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diff --git a/5314-0.txt b/5314-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..72a16f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/5314-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,25491 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Household Tales by Brothers Grimm, by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Household Tales by Brothers Grimm + +Author: Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm + +Translator: Margaret Hunt + +Release Date: March, 2004 [eBook #5314] +[Most recently updated: March 1, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Veronica LeGrow, Katie Nicholson, Erin Shea, David Baird, David Skinner, all undergraduates at Memorial University of Newfoundland, William Barker and Leon Kuperman + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOUSEHOLD TALES BY BROTHERS GRIMM *** + + + + +Household Tales by Brothers Grimm + +by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm + +Translated by Margaret Hunt + + + + +CONTENTS + + + 1 The Frog King, or Iron Henry (Der Froschkönig oder der eiserne Heinrich) + 2 Cat and Mouse in Partnership (Katze und Maus in Gesellschaft) + 3 Our Lady’s Child (Marienkind) + 4 The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was (Märchen von einem, der auszog, das Fürchten zu lernen) + 5 The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids (Der Wolf und die sieben jungen Geißlein) + 6 Faithful John (Der treue Johannes) + 7 The Good Bargain (Der gute Handel) + 8 The Strange Musician (Der wunderliche Spielmann) + 9 The Twelve Brothers (Die zwölf Brüder) + 10 The Pack of Ragamuffins (Das Lumpengesindel) + 11 Little Brother and Little Sister (Brüderchen und Schwesterchen) + 12 Rapunzel (Rapunzel) + 13 The Three Little Men in the Forest (Die drei Männlein im Walde) + 14 The Three Spinning Women (Die drei Spinnerinnen) + 15 Hansel and Gretel (Hänsel und Gretel) + 16 The Three Snake-Leaves (Die drei Schlangenblätter) + 17 The White Snake (Die weiße Schlange) + 18 Straw, Coal, and Bean (Strohhalm, Kohle und Bohne) + 19 The Fisherman and His Wife (Von dem Fischer un syner Fru) + 20 The Brave Little Tailor (Das tapfere Schneiderlein) + 21 Cinderella (Aschenputtel) + 22 The Riddle (Das Rätsel) + 23 The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage (Von dem Mäuschen, Vögelchen und der Bratwurst) + 24 Frau Holle (Frau Holle) + 25 The Seven Ravens (Die sieben Raben) + 26 Little Red-Cap (Rotkäppchen) + 27 The Bremen Town Musicians (Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten) + 28 The Singing Bone (Der singende Knochen) + 29 The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs (Der Teufel mit den drei goldenen Haaren) + 30 Little Louse and Little Flea (Läuschen und Flöhchen) + 31 The Girl without Hands (Das Mädchen ohne Hände) + 32 Clever Hans (Der gescheite Hans) + 33 The Three Languages (Die drei Sprachen) + 34 Clever Elsie (Die kluge Else) + 35 The Tailor in Heaven (Der Schneider im Himmel) + 36 The Wishing-table, the Gold-ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack (Tischchendeckdich, Goldesel und Knüppel aus dem Sack) + 37 Thumbling (Daumesdick) + 38 The Wedding of Mrs. Fox (Die Hochzeit der Frau Füchsin) + 39 The Elves (Die Wichtelmänner) + 40 The Robber Bridegroom (Der Räuberbräutigam) + 41 Herr Korbes (Herr Korbes) + 42 The Godfather (Der Herr Gevatter) + 43 Frau Trude (Frau Trude) + 44 Godfather Death (Der Gevatter Tod) + 45 Thumbling as Journeyman [Thumbling’s Travels] (Daumerlings Wanderschaft) + 46 Fitcher’s Bird [Fowler’s Fowl] (Fitchers Vogel) + 47 The Juniper-Tree (Von dem Machandelboom) + 48 Old Sultan (Der alte Sultan) + 49 The Six Swans (Die sechs Schwäne) + 50 Little Briar-Rose (Dornröschen) + 51 Foundling-Bird (Fundevogel) + 52 King Thrushbeard (König Drosselbart) + 53 Little Snow-White (Sneewittchen) + 54 The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn (Der Ranzen, das Hütlein und das Hörnlein) + 55 Rumpelstiltskin (Rumpelstilzchen) + 56 Sweetheart Roland (Der Liebste Roland) + 57 The Golden Bird (Der goldene Vogel) + 58 The Dog and the Sparrow (Der Hund und der Sperling) + 59 Frederick and Catherine (Der Frieder und das Catherlieschen) + 60 The Two Brothers (Die zwei Brüder) + 61 The Little Peasant (Das Bürle) + 62 The Queen Bee (Die Bienenkönigin) + 63 The Three Feathers (Die drei Federn) + 64 The Golden Goose (Die goldene Gans) + 65 Allerleirauh [All-Kinds-Of-Fur] (Allerleirauh) + 66 The Hare’s Bride (Häsichenbraut) + 67 The Twelve Huntsmen (Die zwölf Jäger) + 68 The Thief and His Master (De Gaudeif un sien Meester) + 69 Jorinde and Joringel (Jorinde und Joringel) + 70 The Three Children of Fortune (Die drei Glückskinder) + 71 How Six Men Got On in the World (Sechse kommen durch die ganze Welt) + 72 The Wolf and the Man (Der Wolf und der Mensch) + 73 The Wolf and the Fox (Der Wolf und der Fuchs) + 74 The Fox and His Cousin (Der Fuchs und die Frau Gevatterin) + 75 The Fox and the Cat (Der Fuchs und die Katze) + 76 The Pink (Die Nelke) + 77 Clever Grethel (Das kluge Gretel) + 78 The Old Man and His Grandson (Der alte Großvater und der Enkel) + 79 The Water-Nix (Die Wassernixe) + 80 The Death of the Little Hen (Von dem Tode des Hühnchens) + 81 Brother Lustig (Bruder Lustig) + 82 Gambling Hansel (De Spielhansl) + 83 Hans in Luck (Hans im Glück) + 84 Hans Married (Hans heiratet) + 85 The Gold-Children (Die Goldkinder) + 86 The Fox and the Geese (Der Fuchs und die Gänse) + 87 The Poor Man and the Rich Man (Der Arme und der Reiche) + 88 The Singing, Springing Lark (Das singende springende Löweneckerchen) + 89 The Goose-Girl (Die Gänsemagd) + 90 The Young Giant (Der junge Riese) + 91 The Gnome (Dat Erdmänneken) + 92 The King of the Golden Mountain (Der König vom goldenen Berg) + 93 The Raven (Die Rabe) + 94 The Peasant’s Clever Daughter (Die kluge Bauerntochter) + 95 Old Hildebrand (Der alte Hildebrand) + 96 The Three Little Birds (De drei Vügelkens) + 97 The Water of Life (Das Wasser des Lebens) + 98 Dr. Know-All (Doktor Allwissend) + 99 The Spirit in the Bottle (Der Geist im Glas) + 100 The Devil’s Sooty Brother (Des Teufels rußiger Bruder) + 101 Bearskin (Der Bärenhäuter) + 102 The Willow-Wren and the Bear (Der Zaunkönig und der Bär) + 103 Sweet Porridge (Der süße Brei) + 104 Wise Folks (Die klugen Leute) + 105 Stories about Snakes (Märchen von der Unke) + 106 The Poor Miller’s Boy and the Cat (Der arme Müllerbursch und das Kätzchen) + 107 The Two Travellers (Die beiden Wanderer) + 108 Hans the Hedgehog (Hans mein Igel) + 109 The Shroud (Das Totenhemdchen) + 110 The Jew among Thorns (Der Jude im Dorn) + 111 The Skilful Huntsman (Der gelernte Jäger) + 112 The Flail from Heaven (Der Dreschflegel vom Himmel) + 113 The Two Kings’ Children (De beiden Künigeskinner) + 114 The Cunning Little Tailor (Vom klugen Schneiderlein) + 115 The Bright Sun Brings It to Light (Die klare Sonne bringt’s an den Tag) + 116 The Blue Light (Das blaue Licht) + 117 The Wilful Child (Das eigensinnige Kind) + 118 The Three Army Surgeons (Die drei Feldscherer) + 119 The Seven Swabians (Die sieben Schwaben) + 120 The Three Apprentices (Die drei Handwerksburschen) + 121 The King’s Son Who Feared Nothing (Der Königssohn, der sich vor nichts fürchtet) + 122 Donkey Cabbages (Der Krautesel) + 123 The Old Woman in the Wood (Die Alte im Wald) + 124 The Three Brothers (Die drei Brüder) + 125 The Devil and His Grandmother (Der Teufel und seine Großmutter) + 126 Ferdinand the Faithful (Ferenand getrü un Ferenand ungetrü) + 127 The Iron Stove (Der Eisenofen) + 128 The Lazy Spinner (Die faule Spinnerin) + 129 The Four Skilful Brothers (Die vier kunstreichen Brüder) + 130 One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes (Einäuglein, Zweiäuglein und Dreiäuglein) + 131 Fair Katrinelje and Pif Paf Poltrie (Die schöne Katrinelje und Pif Paf Poltrie) + 132 The Fox and the Horse (Der Fuchs und das Pferd) + 133 The Shoes that Were Danced to Pieces (Die zertanzten Schuhe) + 134 The Six Servants (Die sechs Diener) + 135 The White Bride and the Black One (Die weiße und die schwarze Braut) + 136 Iron John (Der Eisenhans) + 137 The Three Black Princesses (De drei schwatten Prinzessinnen) + 138 Knoist and His Three Sons (Knoist un sine dre Sühne) + 139 The Maid of Brakel (Dat Mäken von Brakel) + 140 Domestic Servants (Das Hausgesinde) + 141 The Lambkin and the Little Fish (Das Lämmchen und Fischchen) + 142 Simeli Mountain (Simeliberg) + 143 Going A-Travelling (Up Reisen gohn) + 144 The Donkey (Das Eselein) + 145 The Ungrateful Son (Der undankbare Sohn) + 146 The Turnip (Die Rübe) + 147 The Old Man Made Young Again (Das junggeglühte Männlein) + 148 The Lord’s Animals and the Devil’s (Des Herrn und des Teufels Getier) + 149 The Beam (Der Hahnenbalken) + 150 The Old Beggar-Woman (Die alte Bettelfrau) + 151 The Three Sluggards (Die drei Faulen) + 151* The Twelve Idle Servants (Die zwölf faulen Knechte) + 152 The Shepherd Boy (Das Hirtenbüblein) + 153 The Star-Money (Die Sterntaler) + 154 The Stolen Farthings (Der gestohlene Heller) + 155 Brides on their Trial (Die Brautschau) + 156 Odds and Ends (Die Schlickerlinge) + 157 The Sparrow and His Four Children (Der Sperling und seine vier Kinder) + 158 The Story of Schlauraffen Land [The Tale of Cockaigne] (Das Märchen vom Schlauraffenland) + 159 The Ditmarsh Tale of Wonders (Das Diethmarsische Lügenmärchen) + 160 A Riddling Tale (Rätselmärchen) + 161 Snow-White and Rose-Red (Schneeweißchen und Rosenrot) + 162 The Wise Servant (Der kluge Knecht) + 163 The Glass Coffin (Der gläserne Sarg) + 164 Lazy Harry (Der faule Heinz) + 165 The Griffin (Der Vogel Greif) + 166 Strong Hans (Der starke Hans) + 167 The Peasant in Heaven (Das Bürle im Himmel) + 168 Lean Lisa (Die hagere Liese) + 169 The Hut in the Forest (Das Waldhaus) + 170 Sharing Joy and Sorrow (Lieb und Leid teilen) + 171 The Willow-Wren (Der Zaunkönig) + 172 The Sole [The Flounder] (Die Scholle) + 173 The Bittern and Hoopoe (Rohrdommel und Wiedehopf) + 174 The Owl (Die Eule) + 175 The Moon (Der Mond) + 176 The Duration of Life (Die Lebenszeit) + 177 Death’s Messengers (Die Boten des Todes) + 178 Master Pfriem (Meister Pfriem) + 179 The Goose-Girl at the Well (Die Gänsehirtin am Brunnen) + 180 Eve’s Various Children (Die ungleichen Kinder Evas) + 181 The Nixie of the Mill-Pond (Die Nixe im Teich) + 182 The Little Folks’ Presents (Die Geschenke des kleinen Volkes) + 183 The Giant and the Tailor (Der Riese und der Schneider) + 184 The Nail (Der Nagel) + 185 The Poor Boy in the Grave (Der arme Junge im Grab) + 186 The True Sweetheart [The True Bride] (Die wahre Braut) + 187 The Hare and the Hedgehog (Der Hase und der Igel) + 188 The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle (Spindel, Weberschiffchen und Nadel) + 189 The Peasant and the Devil (Der Bauer und der Teufel) + 190 The Crumbs on the Table (Die Brosamen auf dem Tisch) + 191 The Sea-Hare (Das Meerhäschen) + 192 The Master Thief (Der Meisterdieb) + 193 The Drummer (Der Trommler) + 194 The Ear of Corn (Die Kornähre) + 195 The Grave Mound (Der Grabhügel) + 196 Old Rinkrank (Oll Rinkrank) + 197 The Crystal Ball (Die Kristallkugel) + 198 Maid Maleen (Jungfrau Maleen) + 199 The Boot of Buffalo Leather (Der Stiefel von Büffelleder) + 200 The Golden Key (Der goldene Schlüssel) + Children’s Legends + Legend 1 St. Joseph in the Forest (Der heilige Joseph im Walde) + Legend 2 The Twelve Apostles (Die zwölf Apostel) + Legend 3 The Rose (Die Rose) + Legend 4 Poverty and Humility Lead to Heaven (Armut und Demut führen zum Himmel) + Legend 5 God’s Food (Gottes Speise) + Legend 6 The Three Green Twigs (Die drei grünen Zweige) + Legend 7 Our Lady’s Little Glass (Muttergottesgläschen) + Legend 8 The Aged Mother (Die alte Mütterchen) + Legend 9 The Heavenly Wedding (Die himmlische Hochzeit) + Legend 10 The Hazel Branch (Die Haselrute) + + + +1 The Frog-King, or Iron Henry + +In old times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose +daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that +the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it +shone in her face. Close by the King’s castle lay a great dark forest, +and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when the day +was very warm, the King’s child went out into the forest and sat down +by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was dull she took a +golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was +her favorite plaything. + +Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball did +not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it, but on +to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The King’s +daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the well was +deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. On this she began to +cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted. And as +she thus lamented some one said to her, “What ails thee, King’s +daughter? Thou weepest so that even a stone would show pity.” She +looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a frog +stretching forth its thick, ugly head from the water. “Ah! old +water-splasher, is it thou?” said she; “I am weeping for my golden +ball, which has fallen into the well.” + +“Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered the frog, “I can help thee, but +what wilt thou give me if I bring thy plaything up again?” “Whatever +thou wilt have, dear frog,” said she—“My clothes, my pearls and jewels, +and even the golden crown which I am wearing.” + +The frog answered, “I do not care for thy clothes, thy pearls and +jewels, or thy golden crown, but if thou wilt love me and let me be thy +companion and play-fellow, and sit by thee at thy little table, and eat +off thy little golden plate, and drink out of thy little cup, and sleep +in thy little bed—if thou wilt promise me this I will go down below, +and bring thee thy golden ball up again.” + +“Oh yes,” said she, “I promise thee all thou wishest, if thou wilt but +bring me my ball back again.” She, however, thought, “How the silly +frog does talk! He lives in the water with the other frogs, and croaks, +and can be no companion to any human being!” + +But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the +water and sank down, and in a short while came swimmming up again with +the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s daughter +was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and picked it up, +and ran away with it. “Wait, wait,” said the frog. “Take me with thee. +I can’t run as thou canst.” But what did it avail him to scream his +croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could? She did not listen to +it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was forced to go +back into his well again. + +The next day when she had seated herself at table with the King and all +the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate, something +came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble staircase, +and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and cried, +“Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me.” She ran to see who +was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog in front +of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat down to dinner +again, and was quite frightened. The King saw plainly that her heart +was beating violently, and said, “My child, what art thou so afraid of? +Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to carry thee away?” “Ah, +no,” replied she. “It is no giant but a disgusting frog.” + +“What does a frog want with thee?” “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was +in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into +the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for +me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my +companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his +water! And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.” + +In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried, + +“Princess! youngest princess! +Open the door for me! +Dost thou not know what thou saidst to me +Yesterday by the cool waters of the fountain? +Princess, youngest princess! +Open the door for me!” + + +Then said the King, “That which thou hast promised must thou perform. +Go and let him in.” She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped +in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and +cried, “Lift me up beside thee.” She delayed, until at last the King +commanded her to do it. When the frog was once on the chair he wanted +to be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, “Now, push +thy little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together.” She did +this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog +enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked her. At +length he said, “I have eaten and am satisfied; now I am tired, carry +me into thy little room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we +will both lie down and go to sleep.” + +The King’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog +which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her +pretty, clean little bed. But the King grew angry and said, “He who +helped thee when thou wert in trouble ought not afterwards to be +despised by thee.” So she took hold of the frog with two fingers, +carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. But when she was in bed +he crept to her and said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as thou, +lift me up or I will tell thy father.” Then she was terribly angry, and +took him up and threw him with all her might against the wall. “Now, +thou wilt be quiet, odious frog,” said she. But when he fell down he +was no frog but a King’s son with beautiful kind eyes. He by her +father’s will was now her dear companion and husband. Then he told her +how he had been bewitched by a wicked witch, and how no one could have +delivered him from the well but herself, and that to-morrow they would +go together into his kingdom. Then they went to sleep, and next morning +when the sun awoke them, a carriage came driving up with eight white +horses, which had white ostrich feathers on their heads, and were +harnessed with golden chains, and behind stood the young King’s servant +Faithful Henry. Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was +changed into a frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid +round his heart, lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The +carriage was to conduct the young King into his Kingdom. Faithful Henry +helped them both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of +joy because of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the +way the King’s son heard a cracking behind him as if something had +broken. So he turned round and cried, “Henry, the carriage is +breaking.” + +“No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart, which +was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and imprisoned in +the well.” Again and once again while they were on their way something +cracked, and each time the King’s son thought the carriage was +breaking; but it was only the bands which were springing from the heart +of faithful Henry because his master was set free and was happy. + + + +2 Cat and Mouse in Partnership + +A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so +much to her about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that +at length the mouse agreed that they should live and keep house +together. “But we must make a provision for winter, or else we shall +suffer from hunger,” said the cat, “and you, little mouse, cannot +venture everywhere, or you will be caught in a trap some day.” The good +advice was followed, and a pot of fat was bought, but they did not know +where to put it. At length, after much consideration, the cat said, “I +know no place where it will be better stored up than in the church, for +no one dares take anything away from there. We will set it beneath the +altar, and not touch it until we are really in need of it.” So the pot +was placed in safety, but it was not long before the cat had a great +yearning for it, and said to the mouse, “I want to tell you something, +little mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and +has asked me to be godmother; he is white with brown spots, and I am to +hold him over the font at the christening. Let me go out to-day, and +you look after the house by yourself.” “Yes, yes,” answered the mouse, +“by all means go, and if you get anything very good, think of me, I +should like a drop of sweet red christening wine too.” All this, +however, was untrue; the cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to +be godmother. She went straight to the church, stole to the pot of fat, +began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off. Then she took a +walk upon the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then +stretched herself in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought +of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she return home. +“Well, here you are again,” said the mouse, “no doubt you have had a +merry day.” “All went off well,” answered the cat. “What name did they +give the child?” “Top off!” said the cat quite coolly. “Top off!” cried +the mouse, “that is a very odd and uncommon name, is it a usual one in +your family?” “What does it signify,” said the cat, “it is no worse +than Crumb-stealer, as your god-children are called.” + +Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing. She said to +the mouse, “You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house for +a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a +white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.” The good mouse consented, +but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and devoured +half the pot of fat. “Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to +oneself,” said she, and was quite satisfied with her day’s work. When +she went home the mouse inquired, “And what was this child christened?” +“Half-done,” answered the cat. “Half-done! What are you saying? I never +heard the name in my life, I’ll wager anything it is not in the +calendar!” + +The cat’s mouth soon began to water for some more licking. “All good +things go in threes,” said she, “I am asked to stand godmother again. +The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that +exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only +happens once every few years, you will let me go, won’t you?” “Top-off! +Half-done!” answered the mouse, “they are such odd names, they make me +very thoughtful.” “You sit at home,” said the cat, “in your dark-grey +fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that’s because you +do not go out in the daytime.” During the cat’s absence the mouse +cleaned the house, and put it in order but the greedy cat entirely +emptied the pot of fat. “When everything is eaten up one has some +peace,” said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return +home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been given to +the third child. “It will not please you more than the others,” said +the cat. “He is called All-gone.” “All-gone,” cried the mouse, “that is +the most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print. +All-gone; what can that mean?” and she shook her head, curled herself +up, and lay down to sleep. + +From this time forth no one invited the cat to be god-mother, but when +the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found +outside, the mouse thought of their provision, and said, “Come cat, we +will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves—we +shall enjoy that.” “Yes,” answered the cat, “you will enjoy it as much +as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the +window.” They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of +fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. “Alas!” said +the mouse, “now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You are +a true friend! You have devoured all when you were standing godmother. +First top off, then half done, then—.” “Will you hold your tongue,” +cried the cat, “one word more and I will eat you too.” “All gone” was +already on the poor mouse’s lips; scarcely had she spoken it before the +cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. Verily, that is +the way of the world. + + + +3 Our Lady’s Child + +Hard by a great forest dwelt a wood-cutter with his wife, who had an +only child, a little girl three years old. They were so poor, however, +that they no longer had daily bread, and did not know how to get food +for her. One morning the wood-cutter went out sorrowfully to his work +in the forest, and while he was cutting wood, suddenly there stood +before him a tall and beautiful woman with a crown of shining stars on +her head, who said to him, “I am the Virgin Mary, mother of the child +Jesus. Thou art poor and needy, bring thy child to me, I will take her +with me and be her mother, and care for her.” The wood-cutter obeyed, +brought his child, and gave her to the Virgin Mary, who took her up to +heaven with her. There the child fared well, ate sugar-cakes, and drank +sweet milk, and her clothes were of gold, and the little angels played +with her. And when she was fourteen years of age, the Virgin Mary +called her one day and said, “Dear child, I am about to make a long +journey, so take into thy keeping the keys of the thirteen doors of +heaven. Twelve of these thou mayest open, and behold the glory which is +within them, but the thirteenth, to which this little key belongs, is +forbidden thee. Beware of opening it, or thou wilt bring misery on +thyself.” The girl promised to be obedient, and when the Virgin Mary +was gone, she began to examine the dwellings of the kingdom of heaven. +Each day she opened one of them, until she had made the round of the +twelve. In each of them sat one of the Apostles in the midst of a great +light, and she rejoiced in all the magnificence and splendour, and the +little angels who always accompanied her rejoiced with her. Then the +forbidden door alone remained, and she felt a great desire to know what +could be hidden behind it, and said to the angels, “I will not quite +open it, and I will not go inside it, but I will unlock it so that we +can just see a little through the opening.” “Oh no,” said the little +angels, “that would be a sin. The Virgin Mary has forbidden it, and it +might easily cause thy unhappiness.” Then she was silent, but the +desire in her heart was not stilled, but gnawed there and tormented +her, and let her have no rest. And once when the angels had all gone +out, she thought, “Now I am quite alone, and I could peep in. If I do +it, no one will ever know.” She sought out the key, and when she had +got it in her hand, she put it in the lock, and when she had put it in, +she turned it round as well. Then the door sprang open, and she saw +there the Trinity sitting in fire and splendour. She stayed there +awhile, and looked at everything in amazement; then she touched the +light a little with her finger, and her finger became quite golden. +Immediately a great fear fell on her. She shut the door violently, and +ran away. Her terror too would not quit her, let her do what she might, +and her heart beat continually and would not be still; the gold too +stayed on her finger, and would not go away, let her rub it and wash it +never so much. + +It was not long before the Virgin Mary came back from her journey. She +called the girl before her, and asked to have the keys of heaven back. +When the maiden gave her the bunch, the Virgin looked into her eyes and +said, “Hast thou not opened the thirteenth door also?” “No,” she +replied. Then she laid her hand on the girl’s heart, and felt how it +beat and beat, and saw right well that she had disobeyed her order and +had opened the door. Then she said once again, “Art thou certain that +thou hast not done it?” “Yes,” said the girl, for the second time. Then +she perceived the finger which had become golden from touching the fire +of heaven, and saw well that the child had sinned, and said for the +third time “Hast thou not done it?” “No,” said the girl for the third +time. Then said the Virgin Mary, “Thou hast not obeyed me, and besides +that thou hast lied, thou art no longer worthy to be in heaven.” + +Then the girl fell into a deep sleep, and when she awoke she lay on the +earth below, and in the midst of a wilderness. She wanted to cry out, +but she could bring forth no sound. She sprang up and wanted to run +away, but whithersoever she turned herself, she was continually held +back by thick hedges of thorns through which she could not break. In +the desert, in which she was imprisoned, there stood an old hollow +tree, and this had to be her dwelling-place. Into this she crept when +night came, and here she slept. Here, too, she found a shelter from +storm and rain, but it was a miserable life, and bitterly did she weep +when she remembered how happy she had been in heaven, and how the +angels had played with her. Roots and wild berries were her only food, +and for these she sought as far as she could go. In the autumn she +picked up the fallen nuts and leaves, and carried them into the hole. +The nuts were her food in winter, and when snow and ice came, she crept +amongst the leaves like a poor little animal that she might not freeze. +Before long her clothes were all torn, and one bit of them after +another fell off her. As soon, however, as the sun shone warm again, +she went out and sat in front of the tree, and her long hair covered +her on all sides like a mantle. Thus she sat year after year, and felt +the pain and the misery of the world. One day, when the trees were once +more clothed in fresh green, the King of the country was hunting in the +forest, and followed a roe, and as it had fled into the thicket which +shut in this part of the forest, he got off his horse, tore the bushes +asunder, and cut himself a path with his sword. When he had at last +forced his way through, he saw a wonderfully beautiful maiden sitting +under the tree; and she sat there and was entirely covered with her +golden hair down to her very feet. He stood still and looked at her +full of surprise, then he spoke to her and said, “Who art thou? Why art +thou sitting here in the wilderness?” But she gave no answer, for she +could not open her mouth. The King continued, “Wilt thou go with me to +my castle?” Then she just nodded her head a little. The King took her +in his arms, carried her to his horse, and rode home with her, and when +he reached the royal castle he caused her to be dressed in beautiful +garments, and gave her all things in abundance. Although she could not +speak, she was still so beautiful and charming that he began to love +her with all his heart, and it was not long before he married her. + +After a year or so had passed, the Queen brought a son into the world. +Thereupon the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night when she lay in +her bed alone, and said, “If thou wilt tell the truth and confess that +thou didst unlock the forbidden door, I will open thy mouth and give +thee back thy speech, but if thou perseverest in thy sin, and deniest +obstinately, I will take thy new-born child away with me.” Then the +queen was permitted to answer, but she remained hard, and said, “No, I +did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin Mary took the new-born +child from her arms, and vanished with it. Next morning when the child +was not to be found, it was whispered among the people that the Queen +was a man-eater, and had killed her own child. She heard all this and +could say nothing to the contrary, but the King would not believe it, +for he loved her so much. + +When a year had gone by the Queen again bore a son, and in the night +the Virgin Mary again came to her, and said, “If thou wilt confess that +thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give thee thy child back and +untie thy tongue; but if you continuest in sin and deniest it, I will +take away with me this new child also.” Then the Queen again said, “No, +I did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin took the child out +of her arms, and away with her to heaven. Next morning, when this child +also had disappeared, the people declared quite loudly that the Queen +had devoured it, and the King’s councillors demanded that she should be +brought to justice. The King, however, loved her so dearly that he +would not believe it, and commanded the councillors under pain of death +not to say any more about it. + +The following year the Queen gave birth to a beautiful little daughter, +and for the third time the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night and +said, “Follow me.” She took the Queen by the hand and led her to +heaven, and showed her there her two eldest children, who smiled at +her, and were playing with the ball of the world. When the Queen +rejoiced thereat, the Virgin Mary said, “Is thy heart not yet softened? +If thou wilt own that thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give +thee back thy two little sons.” But for the third time the Queen +answered, “No, I did not open the forbidden door.” Then the Virgin let +her sink down to earth once more, and took from her likewise her third +child. + +Next morning, when the loss was reported abroad, all the people cried +loudly, “The Queen is a man-eater. She must be judged,” and the King +was no longer able to restrain his councillors. Thereupon a trial was +held, and as she could not answer, and defend herself, she was +condemned to be burnt alive. The wood was got together, and when she +was fast bound to the stake, and the fire began to burn round about +her, the hard ice of pride melted, her heart was moved by repentance, +and she thought, “If I could but confess before my death that I opened +the door.” Then her voice came back to her, and she cried out loudly, +“Yes, Mary, I did it;” and straight-way rain fell from the sky and +extinguished the flames of fire, and a light broke forth above her, and +the Virgin Mary descended with the two little sons by her side, and the +new-born daughter in her arms. She spoke kindly to her, and said, “He +who repents his sin and acknowledges it, is forgiven.” Then she gave +her the three children, untied her tongue, and granted her happiness +for her whole life. + + + +4 The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was + +A certain father had two sons, the elder of whom was smart and +sensible, and could do everything, but the younger was stupid and could +neither learn nor understand anything, and when people saw him they +said, “There’s a fellow who will give his father some trouble!” When +anything had to be done, it was always the elder who was forced to do +it; but if his father bade him fetch anything when it was late, or in +the night-time, and the way led through the churchyard, or any other +dismal place, he answered “Oh, no, father, I’ll not go there, it makes +me shudder!” for he was afraid. Or when stories were told by the fire +at night which made the flesh creep, the listeners sometimes said “Oh, +it makes us shudder!” The younger sat in a corner and listened with the +rest of them, and could not imagine what they could mean. “They are +always saying ‘it makes me shudder, it makes me shudder!’ It does not +make me shudder,” thought he. “That, too, must be an art of which I +understand nothing.” + +Now it came to pass that his father said to him one day “Hearken to me, +thou fellow in the corner there, thou art growing tall and strong, and +thou too must learn something by which thou canst earn thy living. Look +how thy brother works, but thou dost not even earn thy salt.” “Well, +father,” he replied, “I am quite willing to learn something—indeed, if +it could but be managed, I should like to learn how to shudder. I don’t +understand that at all yet.” The elder brother smiled when he heard +that, and thought to himself, “Good God, what a blockhead that brother +of mine is! He will never be good for anything as long as he lives. He +who wants to be a sickle must bend himself betimes.” + +The father sighed, and answered him “thou shalt soon learn what it is +to shudder, but thou wilt not earn thy bread by that.” + +Soon after this the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the father +bewailed his trouble, and told him how his younger son was so backward +in every respect that he knew nothing and learnt nothing. “Just think,” +said he, “when I asked him how he was going to earn his bread, he +actually wanted to learn to shudder.” “If that be all,” replied the +sexton, “he can learn that with me. Send him to me, and I will soon +polish him.” The father was glad to do it, for he thought, “It will +train the boy a little.” The sexton therefore took him into his house, +and he had to ring the bell. After a day or two, the sexton awoke him +at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into the church tower and +ring the bell. “Thou shalt soon learn what shuddering is,” thought he, +and secretly went there before him; and when the boy was at the top of +the tower and turned round, and was just going to take hold of the bell +rope, he saw a white figure standing on the stairs opposite the +sounding hole. “Who is there?” cried he, but the figure made no reply, +and did not move or stir. “Give an answer,” cried the boy, “or take thy +self off, thou hast no business here at night.” + +The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that the boy might +think he was a ghost. The boy cried a second time, “What do you want +here?—speak if thou art an honest fellow, or I will throw thee down the +steps!” The sexton thought, “he can’t intend to be as bad as his +words,” uttered no sound and stood as if he were made of stone. Then +the boy called to him for the third time, and as that was also to no +purpose, he ran against him and pushed the ghost down the stairs, so +that it fell down ten steps and remained lying there in a corner. +Thereupon he rang the bell, went home, and without saying a word went +to bed, and fell asleep. The sexton’s wife waited a long time for her +husband, but he did not come back. At length she became uneasy, and +wakened the boy, and asked, “Dost thou not know where my husband is? He +climbed up the tower before thou didst.” “No, I don’t know,” replied +the boy, “but some one was standing by the sounding hole on the other +side of the steps, and as he would neither give an answer nor go away, +I took him for a scoundrel, and threw him downstairs, just go there and +you will see if it was he. I should be sorry if it were.” The woman ran +away and found her husband, who was lying moaning in the corner, and +had broken his leg. + +She carried him down, and then with loud screams she hastened to the +boy’s father. “Your boy,” cried she, “has been the cause of a great +misfortune! He has thrown my husband down the steps and made him break +his leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow away from our house.” The +father was terrified, and ran thither and scolded the boy. “What wicked +tricks are these?” said he, “the devil must have put this into thy +head.” “Father,” he replied, “do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He +was standing there by night like one who is intending to do some evil. +I did not know who it was, and I entreated him three times either to +speak or to go away.” “Ah,” said the father, “I have nothing but +unhappiness with you. Go out of my sight. I will see thee no more.” + +“Yes, father, right willingly, wait only until it is day. Then will I +go forth and learn how to shudder, and then I shall, at any rate, +understand one art which will support me.” “Learn what thou wilt,” +spake the father, “it is all the same to me. Here are fifty thalers for +thee. Take these and go into the wide world, and tell no one from +whence thou comest, and who is thy father, for I have reason to be +ashamed of thee.” “Yes, father, it shall be as you will. If you desire +nothing more than that, I can easily keep it in mind.” + +When day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty thalers into his +pocket, and went forth on the great highway, and continually said to +himself, “If I could but shudder! If I could but shudder!” Then a man +approached who heard this conversation which the youth was holding with +himself, and when they had walked a little farther to where they could +see the gallows, the man said to him, “Look, there is the tree where +seven men have married the ropemaker’s daughter, and are now learning +how to fly. Sit down below it, and wait till night comes, and you will +soon learn how to shudder.” “If that is all that is wanted,” answered +the youth, “it is easily done; but if I learn how to shudder as fast as +that, thou shalt have my fifty thalers. Just come back to me early in +the morning.” Then the youth went to the gallows, sat down below it, +and waited till evening came. And as he was cold, he lighted himself a +fire, but at midnight the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his +fire, he could not get warm. And as the wind knocked the hanged men +against each other, and they moved backwards and forwards, he thought +to himself “Thou shiverest below by the fire, but how those up above +must freeze and suffer!” And as he felt pity for them, he raised the +ladder, and climbed up, unbound one of them after the other, and +brought down all seven. Then he stirred the fire, blew it, and set them +all round it to warm themselves. But they sat there and did not stir, +and the fire caught their clothes. So he said, “Take care, or I will +hang you up again.” The dead men, however, did not hear, but were quite +silent, and let their rags go on burning. On this he grew angry, and +said, “If you will not take care, I cannot help you, I will not be +burnt with you,” and he hung them up again each in his turn. Then he +sat down by his fire and fell asleep, and the next morning the man came +to him and wanted to have the fifty thalers, and said, “Well, dost thou +know how to shudder?” “No,” answered he, “how was I to get to know? +Those fellows up there did not open their mouths, and were so stupid +that they let the few old rags which they had on their bodies get +burnt.” Then the man saw that he would not get the fifty thalers that +day, and went away saying, “One of this kind has never come my way +before.” + +The youth likewise went his way, and once more began to mutter to +himself, “Ah, if I could but shudder! Ah, if I could but shudder!” A +waggoner who was striding behind him heard that and asked, “Who are +you?” “I don’t know,” answered the youth. Then the waggoner asked, +“From whence comest thou?” “I know not.” “Who is thy father?” “That I +may not tell thee.” “What is it that thou art always muttering between +thy teeth.” “Ah,” replied the youth, “I do so wish I could shudder, but +no one can teach me how to do it.” “Give up thy foolish chatter,” said +the waggoner. “Come, go with me, I will see about a place for thee.” +The youth went with the waggoner, and in the evening they arrived at an +inn where they wished to pass the night. Then at the entrance of the +room the youth again said quite loudly, “If I could but shudder! If I +could but shudder!” The host who heard this, laughed and said, “If that +is your desire, there ought to be a good opportunity for you here.” +“Ah, be silent,” said the hostess, “so many inquisitive persons have +already lost their lives, it would be a pity and a shame if such +beautiful eyes as these should never see the daylight again.” + +But the youth said, “However difficult it may be, I will learn it and +for this purpose indeed have I journeyed forth.” He let the host have +no rest, until the latter told him, that not far from thence stood a +haunted castle where any one could very easily learn what shuddering +was, if he would but watch in it for three nights. The King had +promised that he who would venture should have his daughter to wife, +and she was the most beautiful maiden the sun shone on. Great treasures +likewise lay in the castle, which were guarded by evil spirits, and +these treasures would then be freed, and would make a poor man rich +enough. Already many men had gone into the castle, but as yet none had +come out again. Then the youth went next morning to the King and said +if he were allowed he would watch three nights in the haunted castle. +The King looked at him, and as the youth pleased him, he said, “Thou +mayest ask for three things to take into the castle with thee, but they +must be things without life.” Then he answered, “Then I ask for a fire, +a turning lathe, and a cutting-board with the knife.” The King had +these things carried into the castle for him during the day. When night +was drawing near, the youth went up and made himself a bright fire in +one of the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife beside it, and +seated himself by the turning-lathe. “Ah, if I could but shudder!” said +he, “but I shall not learn it here either.” Towards midnight he was +about to poke his fire, and as he was blowing it, something cried +suddenly from one corner, “Au, miau! how cold we are!” “You +simpletons!” cried he, “what are you crying about? If you are cold, +come and take a seat by the fire and warm yourselves.” And when he had +said that, two great black cats came with one tremendous leap and sat +down on each side of him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery +eyes. After a short time, when they had warmed themselves, they said, +“Comrade, shall we have a game at cards?” “Why not?” he replied, “but +just show me your paws.” Then they stretched out their claws. “Oh,” +said he, “what long nails you have! Wait, I must first cut them for +you.” Thereupon he seized them by the throats, put them on the +cutting-board and screwed their feet fast. “I have looked at your +fingers,” said he, “and my fancy for card-playing has gone,” and he +struck them dead and threw them out into the water. But when he had +made away with these two, and was about to sit down again by his fire, +out from every hole and corner came black cats and black dogs with +red-hot chains, and more and more of them came until he could no longer +stir, and they yelled horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to +pieces, and tried to put it out. He watched them for a while quietly, +but at last when they were going too far, he seized his cutting-knife, +and cried, “Away with ye, vermin,” and began to cut them down. Part of +them ran away, the others he killed, and threw out into the fish-pond. +When he came back he fanned the embers of his fire again and warmed +himself. And as he thus sat, his eyes would keep open no longer, and he +felt a desire to sleep. Then he looked round and saw a great bed in the +corner. “That is the very thing for me,” said he, and got into it. When +he was just going to shut his eyes, however, the bed began to move of +its own accord, and went over the whole of the castle. “That’s right,” +said he, “but go faster.” Then the bed rolled on as if six horses were +harnessed to it, up and down, over thresholds and steps, but suddenly +hop, hop, it turned over upside down, and lay on him like a mountain. +But he threw quilts and pillows up in the air, got out and said, “Now +any one who likes, may drive,” and lay down by his fire, and slept till +it was day. In the morning the King came, and when he saw him lying +there on the ground, he thought the evil spirits had killed him and he +was dead. Then said he, “After all it is a pity,—he is a handsome man.” +The youth heard it, got up, and said, “It has not come to that yet.” +Then the King was astonished, but very glad, and asked how he had +fared. “Very well indeed,” answered he; “one night is past, the two +others will get over likewise.” Then he went to the innkeeper, who +opened his eyes very wide, and said, “I never expected to see thee +alive again! Hast thou learnt how to shudder yet?” “No,” said he, “it +is all in vain. If some one would but tell me.” + +The second night he again went up into the old castle, sat down by the +fire, and once more began his old song, “If I could but shudder.” When +midnight came, an uproar and noise of tumbling about was heard; at +first it was low, but it grew louder and louder. Then it was quiet for +awhile, and at length with a loud scream, half a man came down the +chimney and fell before him. “Hollo!” cried he, “another half belongs +to this. This is too little!” Then the uproar began again, there was a +roaring and howling, and the other half fell down likewise. “Wait,” +said he, “I will just blow up the fire a little for thee.” When he had +done that and looked round again, the two pieces were joined together, +and a frightful man was sitting in his place. “That is no part of our +bargain,” said the youth, “the bench is mine.” The man wanted to push +him away; the youth, however, would not allow that, but thrust him off +with all his strength, and seated himself again in his own place. Then +still more men fell down, one after the other; they brought nine dead +men’s legs and two skulls, and set them up and played at nine-pins with +them. The youth also wanted to play and said “Hark you, can I join +you?” “Yes, if thou hast any money.” “Money enough,” replied he, “but +your balls are not quite round.” Then he took the skulls and put them +in the lathe and turned them till they were round. “There, now, they +will roll better!” said he. “Hurrah! Now it goes merrily!” He played +with them and lost some of his money, but when it struck twelve, +everything vanished from his sight. He lay down and quietly fell +asleep. Next morning the King came to inquire after him. “How has it +fared with you this time?” asked he. “I have been playing at +nine-pins,” he answered, “and have lost a couple of farthings.” “Hast +thou not shuddered then?” “Eh, what?” said he, “I have made merry. If I +did but know what it was to shudder!” + +The third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly, +“If I could but shudder.” When it grew late, six tall men came in and +brought a coffin. Then said he, “Ha, ha, that is certainly my little +cousin, who died only a few days ago,” and he beckoned with his finger, +and cried “Come, little cousin, come.” They placed the coffin on the +ground, but he went to it and took the lid off, and a dead man lay +therein. He felt his face, but it was cold as ice. “Stop,” said he, “I +will warm thee a little,” and went to the fire and warmed his hand and +laid it on the dead man’s face, but he remained cold. Then he took him +out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his +arms that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good, he +thought to himself “When two people lie in bed together, they warm each +other,” and carried him to the bed, covered him over and lay down by +him. After a short time the dead man became warm too, and began to +move. Then said the youth, “See, little cousin, have I not warmed +thee?” The dead man, however, got up and cried, “Now will I strangle +thee.” + +“What!” said he, “is that the way thou thankest me? Thou shalt at once +go into thy coffin again,” and he took him up, threw him into it, and +shut the lid. Then came the six men and carried him away again. “I +cannot manage to shudder,” said he. “I shall never learn it here as +long as I live.” + +Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and looked terrible. +He was old, however, and had a long white beard. “Thou wretch,” cried +he, “thou shalt soon learn what it is to shudder, for thou shalt die.” +“Not so fast,” replied the youth. “If I am to die, I shall have to have +a say in it.” “I will soon seize thee,” said the fiend. “Softly, +softly, do not talk so big. I am as strong as thou art, and perhaps +even stronger.” “We shall see,” said the old man. “If thou art +stronger, I will let thee go—come, we will try.” Then he led him by +dark passages to a smith’s forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck +an anvil into the ground. “I can do better than that,” said the youth, +and went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near and wanted +to look on, and his white beard hung down. Then the youth seized the +axe, split the anvil with one blow, and struck the old man’s beard in +with it. “Now I have thee,” said the youth. “Now it is thou who will +have to die.” Then he seized an iron bar and beat the old man till he +moaned and entreated him to stop, and he would give him great riches. +The youth drew out the axe and let him go. The old man led him back +into the castle, and in a cellar showed him three chests full of gold. +“Of these,” said he, “one part is for the poor, the other for the king, +the third is thine.” In the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit +disappeared; the youth, therefore, was left in darkness. “I shall still +be able to find my way out,” said he, and felt about, found the way +into the room, and slept there by his fire. Next morning the King came +and said “Now thou must have learnt what shuddering is?” “No,” he +answered; “what can it be? My dead cousin was here, and a bearded man +came and showed me a great deal of money down below, but no one told me +what it was to shudder.” “Then,” said the King, “thou hast delivered +the castle, and shalt marry my daughter.” “That is all very well,” said +he, “but still I do not know what it is to shudder.” + +Then the gold was brought up and the wedding celebrated; but howsoever +much the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still +said always “If I could but shudder—if I could but shudder.” And at +last she was angry at this. Her waiting-maid said, “I will find a cure +for him; he shall soon learn what it is to shudder.” She went out to +the stream which flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful +of gudgeons brought to her. At night when the young king was sleeping, +his wife was to draw the clothes off him and empty the bucketful of +cold water with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes +would sprawl about him. When this was done, he woke up and cried “Oh, +what makes me shudder so?—what makes me shudder so, dear wife? Ah! now +I know what it is to shudder!” + + + +5 The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids + +There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and +loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she +wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all +seven to her and said, “Dear children, I have to go into the forest, be +on your guard against the wolf; if he come in, he will devour you +all—skin, hair, and all. The wretch often disguises himself, but you +will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.” The kids +said, “Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves; you may go +away without any anxiety.” Then the old one bleated, and went on her +way with an easy mind. + +It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and called, +“Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought +something back with her for each of you.” But the little kids knew that +it was the wolf, by the rough voice; “We will not open the door,” cried +they, “thou art not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but thy +voice is rough; thou art the wolf!” Then the wolf went away to a +shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made +his voice soft with it. The he came back, knocked at the door of the +house, and cried, “Open the door, dear children, your mother is here +and has brought something back with her for each of you.” But the wolf +had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw them +and cried, “We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet +like thee; thou art the wolf.” Then the wolf ran to a baker and said, +“I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them for me.” And when the +baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said, “Strew +some white meal over my feet for me.” The miller thought to himself, +“The wolf wants to deceive someone,” and refused; but the wolf said, +“If thou wilt not do it, I will devour thee.” Then the miller was +afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly men are like that. + +So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at +it and said, “Open the door for me, children, your dear little mother +has come home, and has brought every one of you something back from the +forest with her.” The little kids cried, “First show us thy paws that +we may know if thou art our dear little mother.” Then he put his paws +in through the window, and when the kids saw that they were white, they +believed that all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should +come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted to hide +themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the +third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the +cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the +clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great ceremony; +one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The youngest, +who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not find. When the +wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off, laid himself down +under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon +afterwards the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah! What a +sight she saw there! The house-door stood wide open. The table, chairs, +and benches were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, +and the quilts and pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her +children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called them one after +another by name, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the +youngest, a soft voice cried, “Dear mother, I am in the clock-case.” +She took the kid out, and it told her that the wolf had come and had +eaten all the others. Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor +children. + +At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with her. +When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree and snored +so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on every side and +saw that something was moving and struggling in his gorged belly. “Ah, +heavens,” said she, “is it possible that my poor children whom he has +swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?” Then the kid had to +run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut +open the monster’s stomach, and hardly had she make one cut, than one +little kid thrust its head out, and when she cut farther, all six +sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and had +suffered no injury whatever, for in his greediness the monster had +swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing there was! They embraced +their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor at his wedding. The mother, +however, said, “Now go and look for some big stones, and we will fill +the wicked beast’s stomach with them while he is still asleep.” Then +the seven kids dragged the stones thither with all speed, and put as +many of them into his stomach as they could get in; and the mother +sewed him up again in the greatest haste, so that he was not aware of +anything and never once stirred. + +When the wolf at length had had his sleep out, he got on his legs, and +as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to go to +a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move about, the stones +in his stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then cried he, + +“What rumbles and tumbles +Against my poor bones? +I thought ’t was six kids, +But it’s naught but big stones.” + + +And when he got to the well and stooped over the water and was just +about to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in, and there was no +help, but he had to drown miserably. When the seven kids saw that, they +came running to the spot and cried aloud, “The wolf is dead! The wolf +is dead!” and danced for joy round about the well with their mother. + + + +6 Faithful John + +There was once on a time an old king who was ill, and thought to +himself, “I am lying on what must be my death-bed.” Then said he, “Tell +Faithful John to come to me.” Faithful John was his favourite servant, +and was so called, because he had for his whole life long been so true +to him. When therefore he came beside the bed, the King said to him, +“Most faithful John, I feel my end approaching, and have no anxiety +except about my son. He is still of tender age, and cannot always know +how to guide himself. If thou dost not promise me to teach him +everything that he ought to know, and to be his foster-father, I cannot +close my eyes in peace.” Then answered Faithful John, “I will not +forsake him, and will serve him with fidelity, even if it should cost +me my life.” On this, the old King said, “Now I die in comfort and +peace.” Then he added, “After my death, thou shalt show him the whole +castle: all the chambers, halls, and vaults, and all the treasures +which lie therein, but the last chamber in the long gallery, in which +is the picture of the princess of the Golden Dwelling, shalt thou not +show. If he sees that picture, he will fall violently in love with her, +and will drop down in a swoon, and go through great danger for her +sake, therefore thou must preserve him from that.” And when Faithful +John had once more given his promise to the old King about this, the +King said no more, but laid his head on his pillow, and died. + +When the old King had been carried to his grave, Faithful John told the +young King all that he had promised his father on his deathbed, and +said, “This will I assuredly perform, and will be faithful to thee as I +have been faithful to him, even if it should cost me my life.” When the +mourning was over, Faithful John said to him, “It is now time that thou +shouldst see thine inheritance. I will show thee thy father’s palace.” +Then he took him about everywhere, up and down, and let him see all the +riches, and the magnificent apartments, only there was one room which +he did not open, that in which hung the dangerous picture. The picture +was, however, so placed that when the door was opened you looked +straight on it, and it was so admirably painted that it seemed to +breathe and live, and there was nothing more charming or more beautiful +in the whole world. The young King, however, plainly remarked that +Faithful John always walked past this one door, and said, “Why dost +thou never open this one for me?” “There is something within it,” he +replied, “which would terrify thee.” But the King answered, “I have +seen all the palace, and I will know what is in this room also,” and he +went and tried to break open the door by force. Then Faithful John held +him back and said, “I promised thy father before his death that thou +shouldst not see that which is in this chamber, it might bring the +greatest misfortune on thee and on me.” “Ah, no,” replied the young +King, “if I do not go in, it will be my certain destruction. I should +have no rest day or night until I had seen it with my own eyes. I shall +not leave the place now until thou hast unlocked the door.” + +Then Faithful John saw that there was no help for it now, and with a +heavy heart and many sighs, sought out the key from the great bunch. +When he had opened the door, he went in first, and thought by standing +before him he could hide the portrait so that the King should not see +it in front of him, but what availed that? The King stood on tip-toe +and saw it over his shoulder. And when he saw the portrait of the +maiden, which was so magnificent and shone with gold and precious +stones, he fell fainting to the ground. Faithful John took him up, +carried him to his bed, and sorrowfully thought, “The misfortune has +befallen us, Lord God, what will be the end of it?” Then he +strengthened him with wine, until he came to himself again. The first +words the King said were, “Ah, the beautiful portrait! whose it it?” +“That is the princess of the Golden Dwelling,” answered Faithful John. +Then the King continued, “My love for her is so great, that if all the +leaves on all the trees were tongues, they could not declare it. I will +give my life to win her. Thou art my most Faithful John, thou must help +me.” + +The faithful servant considered within himself for a long time how to +set about the matter, for it was difficult even to obtain a sight of +the King’s daughter. At length he thought of a way, and said to the +King, “Everything which she has about her is of gold—tables, chairs, +dishes, glasses, bowls, and household furniture. Among thy treasures +are five tons of gold; let one of the goldsmiths of the Kingdom work +these up into all manner of vessels and utensils, into all kinds of +birds, wild beasts and strange animals, such as may please her, and we +will go there with them and try our luck.” + +The King ordered all the goldsmiths to be brought to him, and they had +to work night and day until at last the most splendid things were +prepared. When everything was stowed on board a ship, Faithful John put +on the dress of a merchant, and the King was forced to do the same in +order to make himself quite unrecognizable. Then they sailed across the +sea, and sailed on until they came to the town wherein dwelt the +princess of the Golden Dwelling. + +Faithful John bade the King stay behind on the ship, and wait for him. +“Perhaps I shall bring the princess with me,” said he, “therefore see +that everything is in order; have the golden vessels set out and the +whole ship decorated.” Then he gathered together in his apron all kinds +of gold things, went on shore and walked straight to the royal palace. +When he entered the courtyard of the palace, a beautiful girl was +standing there by the well with two golden buckets in her hand, drawing +water with them. And when she was just turning round to carry away the +sparkling water she saw the stranger, and asked who he was. So he +answered, “I am a merchant,” and opened his apron, and let her look in. +Then she cried, “Oh, what beautiful gold things!” and put her pails +down and looked at the golden wares one after the other. Then said the +girl, “The princess must see these, she has such great pleasure in +golden things, that she will buy all you have.” She took him by the +hand and led him upstairs, for she was the waiting-maid. When the +King’s daughter saw the wares, she was quite delighted and said, “They +are so beautifully worked, that I will buy them all of thee.” But +Faithful John said, “I am only the servant of a rich merchant. The +things I have here are not to be compared with those my master has in +his ship. They are the most beautiful and valuable things that have +ever been made in gold.” She wanted to have everything brought to her +there, but he said, “There are so many of them that it would take a +great many days to do that, and so many rooms would be required to +exhibit them, that your house is not big enough.” Then her curiosity +and longing were still more excited, until at last she said, “Conduct +me to the ship, I will go there myself, and behold the treasures of +thine master.” + +On this Faithful John was quite delighted, and led her to the ship, and +when the King saw her, he perceived that her beauty was even greater +than the picture had represented it to be, and thought no other than +that his heart would burst in twain. Then she got into the ship, and +the King led her within. Faithful John, however, remained behind with +the pilot, and ordered the ship to be pushed off, saying, “Set all +sail, till it fly like a bird in air.” Within, however, the King showed +her the golden vessels, every one of them, also the wild beasts and +strange animals. Many hours went by whilst she was seeing everything, +and in her delight she did not observe that the ship was sailing away. +After she had looked at the last, she thanked the merchant and wanted +to go home, but when she came to the side of the ship, she saw that it +was on the deep sea far from land, and hurrying onwards with all sail +set. “Ah,” cried she in her alarm, “I am betrayed! I am carried away +and have fallen into the power of a merchant—I would die rather!” The +King, however, seized her hand, and said, “I am not a merchant. I am a +king, and of no meaner origin than thou art, and if I have carried thee +away with subtlety, that has come to pass because of my exceeding great +love for thee. The first time that I looked on thy portrait, I fell +fainting to the ground.” When the princess of the Golden Dwelling heard +that, she was comforted, and her heart was inclined unto him, so that +she willingly consented to be his wife. + +It so happened, however, while they were sailing onwards over the deep +sea, that Faithful John, who was sitting on the fore part of the +vessel, making music, saw three ravens in the air, which came flying +towards them. On this he stopped playing and listened to what they were +saying to each other, for that he well understood. One cried, “Oh, +there he is carrying home the princess of the Golden Dwelling.” “Yes,” +replied the second, “but he has not got her yet.” Said the third, “But +he has got her, she is sitting beside him in the ship.” Then the first +began again, and cried, “What good will that do him? When they reach +land a chestnut horse will leap forward to meet him, and the prince +will want to mount it, but if he does that, it will run away with him, +and rise up into the air with him, and he will never see his maiden +more.” Spake the second, “But is there no escape?” + +“Oh, yes, if any one else gets on it swiftly, and takes out the pistol +which must be in its holster, and shoots the horse dead with it, the +young King is saved. But who knows that? And whosoever does know it, +and tells it to him, will be turned to stone from the toe to the knee.” +Then said the second, “I know more than that; even if the horse be +killed, the young King will still not keep his bride. When they go into +the castle together, a wrought bridal garment will be lying there in a +dish, and looking as if it were woven of gold and silver; it is, +however, nothing but sulphur and pitch, and if he put it on, it will +burn him to the very bone and marrow.” Said the third, “Is there no +escape at all?” + +“Oh, yes,” replied the second, “if any one with gloves on seizes the +garment and throws it into the fire and burns it, the young King will +be saved. “But what avails that?” “Whosoever knows it and tells it to +him, half his body will become stone from the knee to the heart.” + +Then said the third, “I know still more; even if the bridal garment be +burnt, the young King will still not have his bride. After the wedding, +when the dancing begins and the young queen is dancing, she will +suddenly turn pale and fall down as if dead, and if some one does not +lift her up and draw three drops of blood from her right breast and +spit them out again, she will die. But if any one who knows that were +to declare it, he would become stone from the crown of his head to the +sole of his foot.” When the ravens had spoken of this together, they +flew onwards, and Faithful John had well understood everything, but +from that time forth he became quiet and sad, for if he concealed what +he had heard from his master, the latter would be unfortunate, and if +he discovered it to him, he himself must sacrifice his life. At length, +however, he said to himself, “I will save my master, even if it bring +destruction on myself.” + +When therefore they came to shore, all happened as had been foretold by +the ravens, and a magnificent chestnut horse sprang forward. “Good,” +said the King, “he shall carry me to my palace,” and was about to mount +it when Faithful John got before him, jumped quickly on it, drew the +pistol out of the holster, and shot the horse. Then the other +attendants of the King, who after all were not very fond of Faithful +John, cried, “How shameful to kill the beautiful animal, that was to +have carried the King to his palace.” But the King said, “Hold your +peace and leave him alone, he is my most faithful John, who knows what +may be the good of that!” They went into the palace, and in the hall +there stood a dish, and therein lay the bridal garment looking no +otherwise than as if it were made of gold and silver. The young King +went towards it and was about to take hold of it, but Faithful John +pushed him away, seized it with gloves on, carried it quickly to the +fire and burnt it. The other attendants again began to murmur, and +said, “Behold, now he is even burning the King’s bridal garment!” But +the young King said, “Who knows what good he may have done, leave him +alone, he is my most faithful John.” + +And now the wedding was solemnized: the dance began, and the bride also +took part in it; then Faithful John was watchful and looked into her +face, and suddenly she turned pale and fell to the ground, as if she +were dead. On this he ran hastily to her, lifted her up and bore her +into a chamber—then he laid her down, and knelt and sucked the three +drops of blood from her right breast, and spat them out. Immediately +she breathed again and recovered herself, but the young King had seen +this, and being ignorant why Faithful John had done it, was angry and +cried, “Throw him into a dungeon.” Next morning Faithful John was +condemned, and led to the gallows, and when he stood on high, and was +about to be executed, he said, “Every one who has to die is permitted +before his end to make one last speech; may I too claim the right?” +“Yes,” answered the King, “it shall be granted unto thee.” Then said +Faithful John, “I am unjustly condemned, and have always been true to +thee,” and he related how he had hearkened to the conversation of the +ravens when on the sea, and how he had been obliged to do all these +things in order to save his master. Then cried the King, “Oh, my most +Faithful John. Pardon, pardon—bring him down.” But as Faithful John +spoke the last word he had fallen down lifeless and become a stone. + +Thereupon the King and the Queen suffered great anguish, and the King +said, “Ah, how ill I have requited great fidelity!” and ordered the +stone figure to be taken up and placed in his bedroom beside his bed. +And as often as he looked on it he wept and said, “Ah, if I could bring +thee to life again, my most faithful John.” Some time passed and the +Queen bore twins, two sons who grew fast and were her delight. Once +when the Queen was at church and the two children were sitting playing +beside their father, the latter full of grief again looked at the stone +figure, sighed and said, “Ah, if I could but bring thee to life again, +my most faithful John.” Then the stone began to speak and said, “Thou +canst bring me to life again if thou wilt use for that purpose what is +dearest to thee.” Then cried the King, “I will give everything I have +in the world for thee.” The stone continued, “If thou wilt will cut off +the heads of thy two children with thine own hand, and sprinkle me with +their blood, I shall be restored to life.” + +The King was terrified when he heard that he himself must kill his +dearest children, but he thought of faithful John’s great fidelity, and +how he had died for him, drew his sword, and with his own hand cut off +the children’s heads. And when he had smeared the stone with their +blood, life returned to it, and Faithful John stood once more safe and +healthy before him. He said to the King, “Thy truth shall not go +unrewarded,” and took the heads of the children, put them on again, and +rubbed the wounds with their blood, on which they became whole again +immediately, and jumped about, and went on playing as if nothing had +happened. Then the King was full of joy, and when he saw the Queen +coming he hid Faithful John and the two children in a great cupboard. +When she entered, he said to her, “Hast thou been praying in the +church?” “Yes,” answered she, “but I have constantly been thinking of +Faithful John and what misfortune has befallen him through us.” Then +said he, “Dear wife, we can give him his life again, but it will cost +us our two little sons, whom we must sacrifice.” The Queen turned pale, +and her heart was full of terror, but she said, “We owe it to him, for +his great fidelity.” Then the King was rejoiced that she thought as he +had thought, and went and opened the cupboard, and brought forth +Faithful John and the children, and said, “God be praised, he is +delivered, and we have our little sons again also,” and told her how +everything had occurred. Then they dwelt together in much happiness +until their death. + + + +7 The Good Bargain + +There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold +her for seven thalers. On the way home he had to pass a pond, and +already from afar he heard the frogs crying, “Aik, aik, aik, aik.” +“Well,” said he to himself, “they are talking without rhyme or reason, +it is seven that I have received, not eight.” When he got to the water, +he cried to them, “Stupid animals that you are! Don’t you know better +than that? It is seven thalers and not eight.” The frogs, however, +stood to their, “aik aik, aik, aik.” “Come, then, if you won’t believe +it, I can count it out to you.” And he took his money out of his pocket +and counted out the seven thalers, always reckoning four and twenty +groschen to a thaler. The frogs, however, paid no attention to his +reckoning, but still cried, “aik, aik, aik, aik.” “What,” cried the +peasant, quite angry, “since you are determined to know better than I, +count it yourselves,” and threw all the money into the water to them. +He stood still and wanted to wait until they were done and had brought +him his own again, but the frogs maintained their opinion and cried +continually, “aik, aik, aik, aik,” and besides that, did not throw the +money out again. He still waited a long while until evening came on and +he was forced to go home. Then he abused the frogs and cried, “You +water-splashers, you thick-heads, you goggle-eyes, you have great +mouths and can screech till you hurt one’s ears, but you cannot count +seven thalers! Do you think I’m going to stand here till you get done?” +And with that he went away, but the frogs still cried, “aik, aik, aik, +aik,” after him till he went home quite angry. + +After a while he bought another cow, which he killed, and he made the +calculation that if he sold the meat well he might gain as much as the +two cows were worth, and have the skin into the bargain. When therefore +he got to the town with the meat, a great troop of dogs were gathered +together in front of the gate, with a large greyhound at the head of +them, which jumped at the meat, snuffed at it, and barked, “Wow, wow, +wow.” As there was no stopping him, the peasant said to him, “Yes, yes, +I know quite well that thou art saying, ‘wow, wow, wow,’ because thou +wantest some of the meat; but I should fare badly if I were to give it +to thee.” The dog, however, answered nothing but “wow, wow.” “Wilt thou +promise not to devour it all then, and wilt thou go bail for thy +companions?” “Wow, wow, wow,” said the dog. “Well, if thou insistest on +it, I will leave it for thee; I know thee well, and know who is thy +master; but this I tell thee, I must have my money in three days or +else it will go ill with thee; thou must just bring it out to me.” +Thereupon he unloaded the meat and turned back again, the dogs fell +upon it and loudly barked, “wow, wow.” + +The countryman, who heard them from afar, said to himself, “Hark, now +they all want some, but the big one is responsible to me for it.” + +When three days had passed, the countryman thought, “To-night my money +will be in my pocket,” and was quite delighted. But no one would come +and pay it. “There is no trusting any one now,” said he; and at last he +lost patience, and went into the town to the butcher and demanded his +money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but the peasant said, +“Jesting apart, I will have my money! Did not the great dog bring you +the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago?” Then the butcher grew +angry, snatched a broomstick and drove him out. “Wait a while,” said +the peasant, “there is still some justice in the world!” and went to +the royal palace and begged for an audience. He was led before the +King, who sat there with his daughter, and asked him what injury he had +suffered. “Alas!” said he, “the frogs and the dogs have taken from me +what is mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with the stick,” and +he related at full length all that had happened. Thereupon the King’s +daughter began to laugh heartily, and the King said to him, “I cannot +give you justice in this, but you shall have my daughter to wife for +it,—in her whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done at +thee, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh. Thou +mayst thank God for thy good fortune!” + +“Oh,” answered the peasant, “I will not have her, I have a wife +already, and she is one too many for me; when I go home, it is just as +bad as if I had a wife standing in every corner.” Then the King grew +angry, and said, “Thou art a boor.” “Ah, Lord King,” replied the +peasant, “what can you expect from an ox, but beef?” “Stop,” answered +the King, “thou shalt have another reward. Be off now, but come back in +three days, and then thou shalt have five hundred counted out in full.” + +When the peasant went out by the gate, the sentry said, “Thou hast made +the King’s daughter laugh, so thou wilt certainly receive something +good.” “Yes, that is what I think,” answered the peasant; “five hundred +are to be counted out to me.” “Hark thee,” said the soldier, “give me +some of it. What canst thou do with all that money?” “As it is thou,” +said the peasant, “thou shalt have two hundred; present thyself in +three days’ time before the King, and let it be paid to thee.” A Jew, +who was standing by and had heard the conversation, ran after the +peasant, held him by the coat, and said, “Oh, wonder! what a luck-child +thou art! I will change it for thee, I will change it for thee into +small coins, what dost thou want with the great thalers?” “Jew,” said +the countryman, “three hundred canst thou still have; give it to me at +once in coin, in three days from this, thou wilt be paid for it by the +King.” The Jew was delighted with the profit, and brought the sum in +bad groschen, three of which were worth two good ones. After three days +had passed, according to the King’s command, the peasant went before +the King. “Pull his coat off,” said the latter, “and he shall have his +five hundred.” “Ah!” said the peasant, “they no longer belong to me; I +presented two hundred of them to the sentinel, and three hundred the +Jew has changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me.” In +the meantime the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they had +gained from the peasant, and they received the blows strictly counted +out. The soldier bore it patiently and knew already how it tasted, but +the Jew said sorrowfully, “Alas, alas, are these the heavy thalers?” +The King could not help laughing at the peasant, and as all his anger +was gone, he said, “As thou hast already lost thy reward before it fell +to thy lot, I will give thee something in the place of it. Go into my +treasure chamber and get some money for thyself, as much as thou wilt.” +The peasant did not need to be told twice, and stuffed into his big +pockets whatsoever would go in. Afterwards he went to an inn and +counted out his money. The Jew had crept after him and heard how he +muttered to himself, “That rogue of a King has cheated me after all, +why could he not have given me the money himself, and then I should +have known what I had? How can I tell now if what I have had the luck +to put in my pockets is right or not?” “Good heavens!” said the Jew to +himself, “that man is speaking disrespectfully of our lord the King, I +will run and inform, and then I shall get a reward, and he will be +punished as well.” + +When the King heard of the peasant’s words he fell into a passion, and +commanded the Jew to go and bring the offender to him. The Jew ran to +the peasant, “You are to go at once to the lord King in the very +clothes you have on.” “I know what’s right better than that,” answered +the peasant, “I shall have a new coat made first. Dost thou think that +a man with so much money in his pocket is to go there in his ragged old +coat?” The Jew, as he saw that the peasant would not stir without +another coat, and as he feared that if the King’s anger cooled, he +himself would lose his reward, and the peasant his punishment, said, “I +will out of pure friendship lend thee a coat for the short time. What +will people not do for love!” The peasant was contented with this, put +the Jew’s coat on, and went off with him. + +The King reproached the countryman because of the evil speaking of +which the Jew had informed him. “Ah,” said the peasant, “what a Jew +says is always false—no true word ever comes out of his mouth! That +rascal there is capable of maintaining that I have his coat on.” + +“What is that?” shrieked the Jew. “Is the coat not mine? Have I not +lent it to thee out of pure friendship, in order that thou might appear +before the lord King?” When the King heard that, he said, “The Jew has +assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or the +peasant,” and again he ordered something to be counted out to him in +hard thalers. The peasant, however, went home in the good coat, with +the good money in his pocket, and said to himself, “This time I have +hit it!” + + + +8 The Wonderful Musician + +There was once a wonderful musician, who went quite alone through a +forest and thought of all manner of things, and when nothing was left +for him to think about, he said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass +heavily with me here in the forest, I will fetch hither a good +companion for myself.” Then he took his fiddle from his back, and +played so that it echoed through the trees. It was not long before a +wolf came trotting through the thicket towards him. “Ah, here is a wolf +coming! I have no desire for him!” said the musician; but the wolf came +nearer and said to him, “Ah, dear musician, how beautifully thou dost +play. I should like to learn that, too.” “It is soon learnt,” the +musician replied, “thou hast only to do all that I bid thee.” “Oh, +musician,” said the wolf, “I will obey thee as a scholar obeys his +master.” The musician bade him follow, and when they had gone part of +the way together, they came to an old oak-tree which was hollow inside, +and cleft in the middle. “Look,” said the musician, “if thou wilt learn +to fiddle, put thy fore paws into this crevice.” The wolf obeyed, but +the musician quickly picked up a stone and with one blow wedged his two +paws so fast that he was forced to stay there like a prisoner. “Stay +there until I come back again,” said the musician, and went his way. + +After a while he again said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass +heavily with me here in the forest, I will fetch hither another +companion,” and took his fiddle and again played in the forest. It was +not long before a fox came creeping through the trees towards him. “Ah, +there’s a fox coming!” said the musician. “I have no desire for him.” +The fox came up to him and said, “Oh, dear musician, how beautifully +thou dost play! I should like to learn that too.” “That is soon +learnt,” said the musician. “Thou hast only to do everything that I bid +thee.” “Oh, musician,” then said the fox, “I will obey thee as a +scholar obeys his master.” “Follow me,” said the musician; and when +they had walked a part of the way, they came to a footpath, with high +bushes on both sides of it. There the musician stood still, and from +one side bent a young hazel-bush down to the ground, and put his foot +on the top of it, then he bent down a young tree from the other side as +well, and said, “Now little fox, if thou wilt learn something, give me +thy left front paw.” The fox obeyed, and the musician fastened his paw +to the left bough. “Little fox,” said he, “now reach me thy right paw” +and he tied it to the right bough. When he had examined whether they +were firm enough, he let go, and the bushes sprang up again, and jerked +up the little fox, so that it hung struggling in the air. “Wait there +till I come back again,” said the musician, and went his way. + +Again he said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass heavily with me +here in the forest, I will fetch hither another companion,” so he took +his fiddle, and the sound echoed through the forest. Then a little hare +came springing towards him. “Why, a hare is coming,” said the musician, +“I do not want him.” “Ah, dear musician,” said the hare, “how +beautifully thou dost fiddle; I too, should like to learn that.” “That +is soon learnt,” said the musician, “thou hast only to do everything +that I bid thee.” + +“Oh, musician,” replied the little hare, “I will obey thee as a scholar +obeys his master.” They went a part of the way together until they came +to an open space in the forest, where stood an aspen tree. The musician +tied a long string round the little hare’s neck, the other end of which +he fastened to the tree. “Now briskly, little hare, run twenty times +round the tree!” cried the musician, and the little hare obeyed, and +when it had run round twenty times, it had twisted the string twenty +times round the trunk of the tree, and the little hare was caught, and +let it pull and tug as it liked, it only made the string cut into its +tender neck. “Wait there till I come back,” said the musician, and went +onwards. + +The wolf, in the meantime, had pushed and pulled and bitten at the +stone, and had worked so long that he had set his feet at liberty and +had drawn them once more out of the cleft. Full of anger and rage he +hurried after the musician and wanted to tear him to pieces. When the +fox saw him running, he began to lament, and cried with all his might, +“Brother wolf, come to my help, the musician has betrayed me!” The wolf +drew down the little tree, bit the cord in two, and freed the fox, who +went with him to take revenge on the musician. They found the tied-up +hare, whom likewise they delivered, and then they all sought the enemy +together. + +The musician had once more played his fiddle as he went on his way, and +this time he had been more fortunate. The sound reached the ears of a +poor wood-cutter, who instantly, whether he would or no, gave up his +work and came with his hatchet under his arm to listen to the music. +“At last comes the right companion,” said the musician, “for I was +seeking a human being, and no wild beast.” And he began and played so +beautifully and delightfully that the poor man stood there as if +bewitched, and his heart leaped with gladness. And as he thus stood, +the wolf, the fox, and the hare came up, and he saw well that they had +some evil design. So he raised his glittering axe and placed himself +before the musician, as if to say, “Whoso wishes to touch him let him +beware, for he will have to do with me!” Then the beasts were terrified +and ran back into the forest. The musician, however, played once more +to the man out of gratitude, and then went onwards. + + + +9 The Twelve Brothers + +There were once on a time a king and a queen who lived happily together +and had twelve children, but they were all boys. Then said the King to +his wife, “If the thirteenth child which thou art about to bring into +the world, is a girl, the twelve boys shall die, in order that her +possessions may be great, and that the kingdom may fall to her alone.” +He caused likewise twelve coffins to be made, which were already filled +with shavings, and in each lay the little pillow for the dead, and he +had them taken into a locked-up room, and then he gave the Queen the +key of it, and bade her not to speak of this to any one. + +The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day long, until the +youngest son, who was always with her, and whom she had named Benjamin, +from the Bible, said to her, “Dear mother, why art thou so sad?” + +“Dearest child,” she answered, “I may not tell thee.” But he let her +have no rest until she went and unlocked the room, and showed him the +twelve coffins ready filled with shavings. Then she said, “my dearest +Benjamin, thy father has had these coffins made for thee and for thy +eleven brothers, for if I bring a little girl into the world, you are +all to be killed and buried in them.” And as she wept while she was +saying this, the son comforted her and said, “Weep not, dear mother, we +will save ourselves, and go hence.” But she said, “Go forth into the +forest with thy eleven brothers, and let one sit constantly on the +highest tree which can be found, and keep watch, looking towards the +tower here in the castle. If I give birth to a little son, I will put +up a white flag, and then you may venture to come back, but if I bear a +daughter, I will hoist a red flag, and then fly hence as quickly as you +are able, and may the good God protect you. And every night I will rise +up and pray for you—in winter that you may be able to warm yourself at +a fire, and in summer that you may not faint away in the heat.” + +After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went forth into the +forest. They each kept watch in turn, and sat on the highest oak and +looked towards the tower. When eleven days had passed and the turn came +to Benjamin, he saw that a flag was being raised. It was, however, not +the white, but the blood-red flag which announced that they were all to +die. When the brothers heard that, they were very angry and said, “Are +we all to suffer death for the sake of a girl? We swear that we will +avenge ourselves!—wheresoever we find a girl, her red blood shall +flow.” + +Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the midst of it, +where it was the darkest, they found a little bewitched hut, which was +standing empty. Then said they, “Here we will dwell, and thou Benjamin, +who art the youngest and weakest, thou shalt stay at home and keep +house, we others will go out and get food.” Then they went into the +forest and shot hares, wild deer, birds and pigeons, and whatsoever +there was to eat; this they took to Benjamin, who had to dress it for +them in order that they might appease their hunger. They lived together +ten years in the little hut, and the time did not appear long to them. + +The little daughter which their mother the Queen had given birth to, +was now grown up; she was good of heart, and fair of face, and had a +golden star on her forehead. Once, when it was the great washing, she +saw twelve men’s shirts among the things, and asked her mother, “To +whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are far too small for +father?” Then the Queen answered with a heavy heart, “Dear child, these +belong to thy twelve brothers.” Said the maiden, “Where are my twelve +brothers, I have never yet heard of them?” She replied, “God knows +where they are, they are wandering about the world.” Then she took the +maiden and opened the chamber for her, and showed her the twelve +coffins with the shavings, and pillows for the head. “These coffins,” +said she, “were destined for thy brothers, but they went away secretly +before thou wert born,” and she related to her how everything had +happened; then said the maiden, “Dear mother, weep not, I will go and +seek my brothers.” + +So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and straight into the +great forest. She walked the whole day, and in the evening she came to +the bewitched hut. Then she entered it and found a young boy, who +asked, “From whence comest thou, and whither art thou bound?” and was +astonished that she was so beautiful, and wore royal garments, and had +a star on her forehead. And she answered, “I am a king’s daughter, and +am seeking my twelve brothers, and I will walk as far as the sky is +blue until I find them.” She likewise showed him the twelve shirts +which belonged to them. Then Benjamin saw that she was his sister, and +said, “I am Benjamin, thy youngest brother.” And she began to weep for +joy, and Benjamin wept also, and they kissed and embraced each other +with the greatest love. But after this he said, “Dear sister, there is +still one difficulty. We have agreed that every maiden whom we meet +shall die, because we have been obliged to leave our kingdom on account +of a girl.” Then said she, “I will willingly die, if by so doing I can +deliver my twelve brothers.” + +“No,” answered he, “thou shalt not die, seat thyself beneath this tub +until our eleven brothers come, and then I will soon come to an +agreement with them.” + +She did so, and when it was night the others came from hunting, and +their dinner was ready. And as they were sitting at table, and eating, +they asked, “What news is there?” Said Benjamin, “Don’t you know +anything?” “No,” they answered. He continued, “You have been in the +forest and I have stayed at home, and yet I know more than you do.” +“Tell us then,” they cried. He answered, “But promise me that the first +maiden who meets us shall not be killed.” “Yes,” they all cried, “she +shall have mercy, only do tell us.” + +Then said he, “Our sister is here,” and he lifted up the tub, and the +King’s daughter came forth in her royal garments with the golden star +on her forehead, and she was beautiful, delicate and fair. Then they +were all rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and kissed and loved her with +all their hearts. + +Now she stayed at home with Benjamin and helped him with the work. The +eleven went into the forest and caught game, and deer, and birds, and +wood-pigeons that they might have food, and the little sister and +Benjamin took care to make it ready for them. She sought for the wood +for cooking and herbs for vegetables, and put the pans on the fire so +that the dinner was always ready when the eleven came. She likewise +kept order in the little house, and put beautifully white clean +coverings on the little beds, and the brothers were always contented +and lived in great harmony with her. + +Once on a time the two at home had prepared a beautiful entertainment, +and when they were all together, they sat down and ate and drank and +were full of gladness. There was, however, a little garden belonging to +the bewitched house wherein stood twelve lily flowers, which are +likewise called students. She wished to give her brothers pleasure, and +plucked the twelve flowers, and thought she would present each brother +with one while at dinner. But at the self-same moment that she plucked +the flowers the twelve brothers were changed into twelve ravens, and +flew away over the forest, and the house and garden vanished likewise. +And now the poor maiden was alone in the wild forest, and when she +looked around, an old woman was standing near her who said, “My child, +what hast thou done? Why didst thou not leave the twelve white flowers +growing? They were thy brothers, who are now for evermore changed into +ravens.” The maiden said, weeping, “Is there no way of delivering +them?” + +“No,” said the woman, “there is but one in the whole world, and that is +so hard that thou wilt not deliver them by it, for thou must be dumb +for seven years, and mayst not speak or laugh, and if thou speakest one +single word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all is in +vain, and thy brothers will be killed by the one word.” + +Then said the maiden in her heart, “I know with certainty that I shall +set my brothers free,” and went and sought a high tree and seated +herself in it and span, and neither spoke nor laughed. Now it so +happened that a king was hunting in the forest, who had a great +greyhound which ran to the tree on which the maiden was sitting, and +sprang about it, whining, and barking at her. Then the King came by and +saw the beautiful King’s daughter with the golden star on her brow, and +was so charmed with her beauty that he called to ask her if she would +be his wife. She made no answer, but nodded a little with her head. So +he climbed up the tree himself, carried her down, placed her on his +horse, and bore her home. Then the wedding was solemnized with great +magnificence and rejoicing, but the bride neither spoke nor smiled. +When they had lived happily together for a few years, the King’s +mother, who was a wicked woman, began to slander the young Queen, and +said to the King, “This is a common beggar girl whom thou hast brought +back with thee. Who knows what impious tricks she practises secretly! +Even if she be dumb, and not able to speak, she still might laugh for +once; but those who do not laugh have bad consciences.” At first the +King would not believe it, but the old woman urged this so long, and +accused her of so many evil things, that at last the King let himself +be persuaded and sentenced her to death. + +And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in which she was to +be burnt, and the King stood above at the window and looked on with +tearful eyes, because he still loved her so much. And when she was +bound fast to the stake, and the fire was licking at her clothes with +its red tongue, the last instant of the seven years expired. Then a +whirring sound was heard in the air, and twelve ravens came flying +towards the place, and sank downwards, and when they touched the earth +they were her twelve brothers, whom she had delivered. They tore the +fire asunder, extinguished the flames, set their dear sister free, and +kissed and embraced her. And now as she dared to open her mouth and +speak, she told the King why she had been dumb, and had never laughed. +The King rejoiced when he heard that she was innocent, and they all +lived in great unity until their death. The wicked step-mother was +taken before the judge, and put into a barrel filled with boiling oil +and venomous snakes, and died an evil death. + + + +10 The Pack of Ragamuffins + +The cock once said to the hen, “It is now the time when our nuts are +ripe, so let us go to the hill together and for once eat our fill +before the squirrel takes them all away.” “Yes,” replied the hen, +“come, we will have some pleasure together.” Then they went away to the +hill, and on it was a bright day they stayed till evening. Now I do not +know whether it was that they had eaten till they were too fat, or +whether they had become proud, but they would not go home on foot, and +the cock had to build a little carriage of nut-shells. When it was +ready, the little hen seated herself in it and said to the cock, “Thou +canst just harness thyself to it.” “I like that!” said the cock, “I +would rather go home on foot than let myself be harnessed to it; no, +that is not our bargain. I do not mind being coachman and sitting on +the box, but drag it myself I will not.” + +As they were thus disputing, a duck quacked to them, “You thieving +folks, who bade you go to my nut-hill? Well, you shall suffer for it!” +and ran with open beak at the cock. But the cock also was not idle, and +fell boldly on the duck, and at last wounded her so with his spurs that +she also begged for mercy, and willingly let herself be harnessed to +the carriage as a punishment. The little cock now seated himself on the +box and was coachman, and thereupon they went off in a gallop, with +“Duck, go as fast as thou canst.” When they had driven a part of the +way they met two foot-passengers, a pin and a needle. They cried, +“Stop! stop!” and said that it would soon be as dark as pitch, and then +they could not go a step further, and that it was so dirty on the road, +and asked if they could not get into the carriage for a while. They had +been at the tailor’s public-house by the gate, and had stayed too long +over the beer. As they were thin people, who did not take up much room, +the cock let them both get in, but they had to promise him and his +little hen not to step on their feet. Late in the evening they came to +an inn, and as they did not like to go further by night, and as the +duck also was not strong on her feet, and fell from one side to the +other, they went in. The host at first made many objections, his house +was already full, besides he thought they could not be very +distinguished persons; but at last, as they made pleasant speeches, and +told him that he should have the egg which the little hen has laid on +the way, and should likewise keep the duck, which laid one every day, +he at length said that they might stay the night. And now they had +themselves well served, and feasted and rioted. Early in the morning, +when day was breaking, and every one was asleep, the cock awoke the +hen, brought the egg, pecked it open, and they ate it together, but +they threw the shell on the hearth. Then they went to the needle which +was still asleep, took it by the head and stuck it into the cushion of +the landlord’s chair, and put the pin in his towel, and at the last +without more ado they flew away over the heath. The duck who liked to +sleep in the open air and had stayed in the yard, heard them going +away, made herself merry and found a stream, down which she swam, which +was a much quicker way of travelling than being harnessed to a +carriage. The host did not get out of bed for two hours after this; he +washed himself and wanted to dry himself, then the pin went over his +face and made a red streak from one ear to the other. After this he +went into the kitchen and wanted to light a pipe, but when he came to +the hearth the egg-shell darted into his eyes. “This morning everything +attacks my head,” said he, and angrily sat down on his grandfather’s +chair, but he quickly started up again and cried, “Woe is me,” for the +needle had pricked him still worse than the pin, and not in the head. +Now he was thoroughly angry, and suspected the guests who had come so +late the night before, and when he went and looked about for them, they +were gone. Then he made a vow to take no more ragamuffins into his +house, for they consume much, pay for nothing, and play mischievous +tricks into the bargain by way of gratitude. + + + +11 Little Brother and Little Sister + +Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, “Since our +mother died we have had no happiness; our step-mother beats us every +day, and if we come near her she kicks us away with her foot. Our meals +are the hard crusts of bread that are left over; and the little dog +under the table is better off, for she often throws it a nice bit. May +Heaven pity us. If our mother only knew! Come, we will go forth +together into the wide world.” + +They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony places; and +when it rained the little sister said, “Heaven and our hearts are +weeping together.” In the evening they came to a large forest, and they +were so weary with sorrow and hunger and the long walk, that they lay +down in a hollow tree and fell asleep. + +The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, and +shone down hot into the tree. Then the brother said, “Sister, I am +thirsty; if I knew of a little brook I would go and just take a drink; +I think I hear one running.” The brother got up and took the little +sister by the hand, and they set off to find the brook. + +But the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen how the two +children had gone away, and had crept after them privily, as witches do +creep, and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest. + +Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the stones, +the brother was going to drink out of it, but the sister heard how it +said as it ran, “Who drinks of me will be a tiger; who drinks of me +will be a tiger.” Then the sister cried, “Pray, dear brother, do not +drink, or you will become a wild beast, and tear me to pieces.” The +brother did not drink, although he was so thirsty, but said, “I will +wait for the next spring.” + +When they came to the next brook the sister heard this also say, “Who +drinks of me will be a wolf; who drinks of me will be a wolf.” Then the +sister cried out, “Pray, dear brother, do not drink, or you will become +a wolf, and devour me.” The brother did not drink, and said, “I will +wait until we come to the next spring, but then I must drink, say what +you like; for my thirst is too great.” + +And when they came to the third brook the sister heard how it said as +it ran, “Who drinks of me will be a roebuck; who drinks of me will be a +roebuck.” The sister said, “Oh, I pray you, dear brother, do not drink, +or you will become a roebuck, and run away from me.” But the brother +had knelt down at once by the brook, and had bent down and drunk some +of the water, and as soon as the first drops touched his lips he lay +there a young roebuck. + +And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched brother, and the little +roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at last the girl +said, “Be quiet, dear little roe, I will never, never leave you.” + +Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the roebuck’s neck, +and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. With this she +tied the little beast and led it on, and she walked deeper and deeper +into the forest. + +And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a little +house, and the girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, “We +can stay here and live.” Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a +soft bed for the roe; and every morning she went out and gathered roots +and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender grass for the roe, +who ate out of her hand, and was content and played round about her. In +the evening, when the sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she +laid her head upon the roebuck’s back: that was her pillow, and she +slept softly on it. And if only the brother had had his human form it +would have been a delightful life. + +For some time they were alone like this in the wilderness. But it +happened that the King of the country held a great hunt in the forest. +Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs, and the merry shouts +of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the roebuck heard all, and +was only too anxious to be there. “Oh,” said he, to his sister, “let me +be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any longer;” and he begged so much +that at last she agreed. “But,” said she to him, “come back to me in +the evening; I must shut my door for fear of the rough huntsmen, so +knock and say, ‘My little sister, let me in!’ that I may know you; and +if you do not say that, I shall not open the door.” Then the young +roebuck sprang away; so happy was he and so merry in the open air. + +The King and the huntsmen saw the pretty creature, and started after +him, but they could not catch him, and when they thought that they +surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and could not be +seen. When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, “My +little sister, let me in.” Then the door was opened for him, and he +jumped in, and rested himself the whole night through upon his soft +bed. + +The next day the hunt went on afresh, and when the roebuck again heard +the bugle-horn, and the ho! ho! of the huntsmen, he had no peace, but +said, “Sister, let me out, I must be off.” His sister opened the door +for him, and said, “But you must be here again in the evening and say +your pass-word.” + +When the King and his huntsmen again saw the young roebuck with the +golden collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick and nimble for +them. This went on for the whole day, but at last by the evening the +huntsmen had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a little in +the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a hunter crept after +him to the cottage and heard how he said, “My little sister, let me +in,” and saw that the door was opened for him, and was shut again at +once. The huntsman took notice of it all, and went to the King and told +him what he had seen and heard. Then the King said, “To-morrow we will +hunt once more.” + +The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she saw that +her fawn was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid herbs on the +wound, and said, “Go to your bed, dear roe, that you may get well +again.” But the wound was so slight that the roebuck, next morning, did +not feel it any more. And when he again heard the sport outside, he +said, “I cannot bear it, I must be there; they shall not find it so +easy to catch me.” The sister cried, and said, “This time they will +kill you, and here am I alone in the forest and forsaken by all the +world. I will not let you out.” “Then you will have me die of grief,” +answered the roe; “when I hear the bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump +out of my skin.” Then the sister could not do otherwise, but opened the +door for him with a heavy heart, and the roebuck, full of health and +joy, bounded into the forest. + +When the King saw him, he said to his huntsmen, “Now chase him all day +long till night-fall, but take care that no one does him any harm.” + +As soon as the sun had set, the King said to the huntsman, “Now come +and show me the cottage in the wood;” and when he was at the door, he +knocked and called out, “Dear little sister, let me in.” Then the door +opened, and the King walked in, and there stood a maiden more lovely +than any he had ever seen. The maiden was frightened when she saw, not +her little roe, but a man come in who wore a golden crown upon his +head. But the King looked kindly at her, stretched out his hand, and +said, “Will you go with me to my palace and be my dear wife?” “Yes, +indeed,” answered the maiden, “but the little roe must go with me, I +cannot leave him.” The King said, “It shall stay with you as long as +you live, and shall want nothing.” Just then he came running in, and +the sister again tied him with the cord of rushes, took it in her own +hand, and went away with the King from the cottage. + +The King took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried her to his +palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp. She was now the +Queen, and they lived for a long time happily together; the roebuck was +tended and cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden. + +But the wicked step-mother, because of whom the children had gone out +into the world, thought all the time that the sister had been torn to +pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the brother had been +shot for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when she heard that they were +so happy, and so well off, envy and hatred rose in her heart and left +her no peace, and she thought of nothing but how she could bring them +again to misfortune. Her own daughter, who was ugly as night, and had +only one eye, grumbled at her and said, “A Queen! that ought to have +been my luck.” “Only be quiet,” answered the old woman, and comforted +her by saying, “when the time comes I shall be ready.” + +As time went on, the Queen had a pretty little boy, and it happened +that the King was out hunting; so the old witch took the form of the +chamber-maid, went into the room where the Queen lay, and said to her, +“Come, the bath is ready; it will do you good, and give you fresh +strength; make haste before it gets cold.” + +The daughter also was close by; so they carried the weakly Queen into +the bath-room, and put her into the bath; then they shut the door and +ran away. But in the bath-room they had made a fire of such deadly heat +that the beautiful young Queen was soon suffocated. + +When this was done the old woman took her daughter, put a nightcap on +her head, and laid her in bed in place of the Queen. She gave her too +the shape and the look of the Queen, only she could not make good the +lost eye. But in order that the King might not see it, she was to lie +on the side on which she had no eye. + +In the evening when he came home and heard that he had a son he was +heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to see how she +was. But the old woman quickly called out, “For your life leave the +curtains closed; the Queen ought not to see the light yet, and must +have rest.” The King went away, and did not find out that a false Queen +was lying in the bed. + +But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the +nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw the door +open and the true Queen walk in. She took the child out of the cradle, +laid it on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook up its pillow, laid +the child down again, and covered it with the little quilt. And she did +not forget the roebuck, but went into the corner where it lay, and +stroked its back. Then she went quite silently out of the door again. +The next morning the nurse asked the guards whether anyone had come +into the palace during the night, but they answered, “No, we have seen +no one.” + +She came thus many nights and never spoke a word: the nurse always saw +her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it. + +When some time had passed in this manner, the Queen began to speak in +the night, and said— + +“How fares my child, how fares my roe? +Twice shall I come, then never more.” + + +The nurse did not answer, but when the Queen had gone again, went to +the King and told him all. The King said, “Ah, heavens! what is this? +To-morrow night I will watch by the child.” In the evening he went into +the nursery, and at midnight the Queen again appeared and said— + +“How fares my child, how fares my roe? +Once will I come, then never more.” + + +And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she disappeared. +The King dared not speak to her, but on the next night he watched +again. Then she said— + +“How fares my child, how fares my roe? +This time I come, then never more.” + + +Then the King could not restrain himself; he sprang towards her, and +said, “You can be none other than my dear wife.” She answered, “Yes, I +am your dear wife,” and at the same moment she received life again, and +by God’s grace became fresh, rosy, and full of health. + +Then she told the King the evil deed which the wicked witch and her +daughter had been guilty of towards her. The King ordered both to be +led before the judge, and judgment was delivered against them. The +daughter was taken into the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild +beasts, but the witch was cast into the fire and miserably burnt. And +as soon as she was burnt the roebuck changed his shape, and received +his human form again, so the sister and brother lived happily together +all their lives. + + + +12 Rapunzel + +There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a +child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her +desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house +from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most +beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high +wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an +enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world. One +day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the +garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful +rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and green that she longed +for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased +every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite +pined away, and looked pale and miserable. Then her husband was +alarmed, and asked, “What aileth thee, dear wife?” “Ah,” she replied, +“if I can’t get some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our +house, to eat, I shall die.” The man, who loved her, thought, “Sooner +than let thy wife die, bring her some of the rampion thyself, let it +cost thee what it will.” In the twilight of the evening, he clambered +down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched +a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself +a salad of it, and ate it with much relish. She, however, liked it so +much—so very much, that the next day she longed for it three times as +much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more +descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let +himself down again; but when he had clambered down the wall he was +terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him. “How +canst thou dare,” said she with angry look, “to descend into my garden +and steal my rampion like a thief? Thou shalt suffer for it!” “Ah,” +answered he, “let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my +mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the +window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she +had not got some to eat.” Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be +softened, and said to him, “If the case be as thou sayest, I will allow +thee to take away with thee as much rampion as thou wilt, only I make +one condition, thou must give me the child which thy wife will bring +into the world; it shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a +mother.” The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the +woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the +child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her. + +Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. When she +was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay +in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was +a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed +herself beneath it and cried, + +“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, +Let down thy hair to me.” + + +Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she +heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, +wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the +hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it. + +After a year or two, it came to pass that the King’s son rode through +the forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so +charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in +her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The +King’s son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the +tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so +deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest +and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he +saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried, + +“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, +Let down thy hair.” + + +Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress +climbed up to her. “If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will +for once try my fortune,” said he, and the next day when it began to +grow dark, he went to the tower and cried, + +“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, +Let down thy hair.” + + +Immediately the hair fell down and the King’s son climbed up. + +At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as her eyes +had never yet beheld, came to her; but the King’s son began to talk to +her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so +stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see +her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would +take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, +she thought, “He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does;” and she +said yes, and laid her hand in his. She said, “I will willingly go away +with thee, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with thee a skein +of silk every time that thou comest, and I will weave a ladder with it, +and when that is ready I will descend, and thou wilt take me on thy +horse.” They agreed that until that time he should come to her every +evening, for the old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked +nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, “Tell me, Dame +Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up +than the young King’s son—he is with me in a moment.” “Ah! thou wicked +child,” cried the enchantress “What do I hear thee say! I thought I had +separated thee from all the world, and yet thou hast deceived me.” In +her anger she clutched Rapunzel’s beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice +round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and +snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. +And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where +she had to live in great grief and misery. + +On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the enchantress +in the evening fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off, to +the hook of the window, and when the King’s son came and cried, + +“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, +Let down thy hair,” + + +she let the hair down. The King’s son ascended, but he did not find his +dearest Rapunzel above, but the enchantress, who gazed at him with +wicked and venomous looks. “Aha!” she cried mockingly, “Thou wouldst +fetch thy dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the +nest; the cat has got it, and will scratch out thy eyes as well. +Rapunzel is lost to thee; thou wilt never see her more.” The King’s son +was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the +tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell, +pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate +nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over +the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some +years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins +to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. +He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards +it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and +wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and +he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he +was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy +and contented. + + + +13 The Three Little Men in the Wood + +There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman whose husband died, +and the man had a daughter, and the woman also had a daughter. The +girls were acquainted with each other, and went out walking together, +and afterwards came to the woman in her house. Then said she to the +man’s daughter, “Listen, tell thy father that I would like to marry +him, and then thou shalt wash thyself in milk every morning, and drink +wine, but my own daughter shall wash herself in water and drink water.” +The girl went home, and told her father what the woman had said. The +man said, “What shall I do? Marriage is a joy and also a torment.” At +length as he could come to no decision, he pulled off his boot, and +said, “Take this boot, it has a hole in the sole of it. Go with it up +to the loft, hang it on the big nail, and then pour water into it. If +it hold the water, then I will again take a wife, but if it run +through, I will not.” The girl did as she was ordered, but the water +drew the hole together, and the boot became full to the top. She +informed her father how it had turned out. Then he himself went up, and +when he saw that she was right, he went to the widow and wooed her, and +the wedding was celebrated. + +The next morning, when the two girls got up, there stood before the +man’s daughter milk for her to wash in and wine for her to drink, but +before the woman’s daughter stood water to wash herself with and water +for drinking. On the second morning, stood water for washing and water +for drinking before the man’s daughter as well as before the woman’s +daughter. And on the third morning stood water for washing and water +for drinking before the man’s daughter, and milk for washing and wine +for drinking, before the woman’s daughter, and so it continued. The +woman became bitterly unkind to her step-daughter, and day by day did +her best to treat her still worse. She was also envious because her +step-daughter was beautiful and lovable, and her own daughter ugly and +repulsive. + +Once, in winter, when everything was frozen as hard as a stone, and +hill and vale lay covered with snow, the woman made a frock of paper, +called her step-daughter, and said, “Here, put on this dress and go out +into the wood, and fetch me a little basketful of strawberries,—I have +a fancy for some.” “Good heavens!” said the girl, “no strawberries grow +in winter! The ground is frozen, and besides the snow has covered +everything. And why am I to go in this paper frock? It is so cold +outside that one’s very breath freezes! The wind will blow through the +frock, and the thorns will tear it off my body.” “Wilt thou contradict +me again?” said the stepmother, “See that thou goest, and do not show +thy face again until thou hast the basketful of strawberries!” Then she +gave her a little piece of hard bread, and said, “This will last thee +the day,” and thought, “Thou wilt die of cold and hunger outside, and +wilt never be seen again by me.” + +Then the maiden was obedient, and put on the paper frock, and went out +with the basket. Far and wide there was nothing but snow, and not a +green blade to be seen. When she got into the wood she saw a small +house out of which peeped three dwarfs. She wished them good day, and +knocked modestly at the door. They cried, “Come in,” and she entered +the room and seated herself on the bench by the stove, where she began +to warm herself and eat her breakfast. The elves said, “Give us, too, +some of it.” “Willingly,” she said, and divided her bit of bread in two +and gave them the half. They asked, “What dost thou here in the forest +in the winter time, in thy thin dress?” “Ah,” she answered, “I am to +look for a basketful of strawberries, and am not to go home until I can +take them with me.” When she had eaten her bread, they gave her a broom +and said, “Sweep away the snow at the back door with it.” But when she +was outside, the three little men said to each other, “What shall we +give her as she is so good, and has shared her bread with us?” Then +said the first, “My gift is, that she shall every day grow more +beautiful.” The second said, “My gift is, that gold pieces shall fall +out of her mouth every time she speaks.” The third said, “My gift is, +that a king shall come and take her to wife.” + +The girl, however, did as the little men had bidden her, swept away the +snow behind the little house with the broom, and what did she find but +real ripe strawberries, which came up quite dark-red out of the snow! +In her joy she hastily gathered her basket full, thanked the little +men, shook hands with each of them, and ran home to take her +step-mother what she had longed for so much. When she went in and said +good-evening, a piece of gold at once fell from her mouth. Thereupon +she related what had happened to her in the wood, but with every word +she spoke, gold pieces fell from her mouth, until very soon the whole +room was covered with them. “Now look at her arrogance,” cried the +step-sister, “to throw about gold in that way!” but she was secretly +envious of it, and wanted to go into the forest also to seek +strawberries. The mother said, “No, my dear little daughter, it is too +cold, thou mightest die of cold.” However, as her daughter let her have +no peace, the mother at last yielded, made her a magnificent dress of +fur, which she was obliged to put on, and gave her bread-and-butter and +cake with her. + +The girl went into the forest and straight up to the little house. The +three little elves peeped out again, but she did not greet them, and +without looking round at them and without speaking to them, she went +awkwardly into the room, seated herself by the stove, and began to eat +her bread-and-butter and cake. “Give us some of it,” cried the little +men; but she replied, “There is not enough for myself, so how can I +give it away to other people?” When she had done eating, they said, +“There is a broom for thee, sweep all clean for us outside by the +back-door.” “Humph! Sweep for yourselves,” she answered, “I am not your +servant.” When she saw that they were not going to give her anything, +she went out by the door. Then the little men said to each other, “What +shall we give her as she is so naughty, and has a wicked envious heart, +that will never let her do a good turn to any one?” The first said, “I +grant that she may grow uglier every day.” The second said, “I grant +that at every word she says, a toad shall spring out of her mouth.” The +third said, “I grant that she may die a miserable death.” The maiden +looked for strawberries outside, but as she found none, she went +angrily home. And when she opened her mouth, and was about to tell her +mother what had happened to her in the wood, with every word she said, +a toad sprang out of her mouth, so that every one was seized with +horror of her. + +Then the step-mother was still more enraged, and thought of nothing but +how to do every possible injury to the man’s daughter, whose beauty, +however, grew daily greater. At length she took a cauldron, set it on +the fire, and boiled yarn in it. When it was boiled, she flung it on +the poor girl’s shoulder, and gave her an axe in order that she might +go on the frozen river, cut a hole in the ice, and rinse the yarn. She +was obedient, went thither and cut a hole in the ice; and while she was +in the midst of her cutting, a splendid carriage came driving up, in +which sat the King. The carriage stopped, and the King asked,”My child, +who are thou, and what art thou doing here?” “I am a poor girl, and I +am rinsing yarn.” Then the King felt compassion, and when he saw that +she was so very beautiful, he said to her, “Wilt thou go away with me?” +“Ah, yes, with all my heart,” she answered, for she was glad to get +away from the mother and sister. + +So she got into the carriage and drove away with the King, and when +they arrived at his palace, the wedding was celebrated with great pomp, +as the little men had granted to the maiden. When a year was over, the +young Queen bore a son, and as the step-mother had heard of her great +good-fortune, she came with her daughter to the palace and pretended +that she wanted to pay her a visit. Once, however, when the King had +gone out, and no one else was present, the wicked woman seized the +Queen by the head, and her daughter seized her by the feet, and they +lifted her out of the bed, and threw her out of the window into the +stream which flowed by. Then the ugly daughter laid herself in the bed, +and the old woman covered her up over her head. When the King came home +again and wanted to speak to his wife, the old woman cried, “Hush, +hush, that can’t be now, she is lying in a violent perspiration; you +must let her rest to-day.” The King suspected no evil, and did not come +back again till next morning; and as he talked with his wife and she +answered him, with every word a toad leaped out, whereas formerly a +piece of gold had fallen out. Then he asked what that could be, but the +old woman said that she had got that from the violent perspiration, and +would soon lose it again. During the night, however, the scullion saw a +duck come swimming up the gutter, and it said, + +“King, what art thou doing now? +Sleepest thou, or wakest thou?” + + +And as he returned no answer, it said, + +“And my guests, What may they do?” + + +The scullion said, + +“They are sleeping soundly, too.” + + +Then it asked again, + +“What does little baby mine?” + + +He answered, + +“Sleepeth in her cradle fine.” + + +Then she went upstairs in the form of the Queen, nursed the baby, shook +up its little bed, covered it over, and then swam away again down the +gutter in the shape of a duck. She came thus for two nights; on the +third, she said to the scullion, “Go and tell the King to take his +sword and swing it three times over me on the threshold.” Then the +scullion ran and told this to the King, who came with his sword and +swung it thrice over the spirit, and at the third time, his wife stood +before him strong, living, and healthy as she had been before. +Thereupon the King was full of great joy, but he kept the Queen hidden +in a chamber until the Sunday, when the baby was to be christened. And +when it was christened he said, “What does a person deserve who drags +another out of bed and throws him in the water?” “The wretch deserves +nothing better,” answered the old woman, “than to be taken and put in a +barrel stuck full of nails, and rolled down hill into the water.” +“Then,” said the King, “Thou hast pronounced thine own sentence;” and +he ordered such a barrel to be brought, and the old woman to be put +into it with her daughter, and then the top was hammered on, and the +barrel rolled down hill until it went into the river. + + + +14 The Three Spinners + +There was once a girl who was idle and would not spin, and let her +mother say what she would, she could not bring her to it. At last the +mother was once so overcome with anger and impatience, that she beat +her, on which the girl began to weep loudly. Now at this very moment +the Queen drove by, and when she heard the weeping she stopped her +carriage, went into the house and asked the mother why she was beating +her daughter so that the cries could be heard out on the road? Then the +woman was ashamed to reveal the laziness of her daughter and said, “I +cannot get her to leave off spinning. She insists on spinning for ever +and ever, and I am poor, and cannot procure the flax.” Then answered +the Queen, “There is nothing that I like better to hear than spinning, +and I am never happier than when the wheels are humming. Let me have +your daughter with me in the palace. I have flax enough, and there she +shall spin as much as she likes.” The mother was heartily satisfied +with this, and the Queen took the girl with her. When they had arrived +at the palace, she led her up into three rooms which were filled from +the bottom to the top with the finest flax. “Now spin me this flax,” +said she, “and when thou hast done it, thou shalt have my eldest son +for a husband, even if thou art poor. I care not for that, thy +indefatigable industry is dowry enough.” The girl was secretly +terrified, for she could not have spun the flax, no, not if she had +lived till she was three hundred years old, and had sat at it every day +from morning till night. When therefore she was alone, she began to +weep, and sat thus for three days without moving a finger. On the third +day came the Queen, and when she saw that nothing had been spun yet, +she was surprised; but the girl excused herself by saying that she had +not been able to begin because of her great distress at leaving her +mother’s house. The queen was satisfied with this, but said when she +was going away, “To-morrow thou must begin to work.” + +When the girl was alone again, she did not know what to do, and in her +distress went to the window. Then she saw three women coming towards +her, the first of whom had a broad flat foot, the second had such a +great underlip that it hung down over her chin, and the third had a +broad thumb. They remained standing before the window, looked up, and +asked the girl what was amiss with her? She complained of her trouble, +and then they offered her their help and said, “If thou wilt invite us +to the wedding, not be ashamed of us, and wilt call us thine aunts, and +likewise wilt place us at thy table, we will spin up the flax for thee, +and that in a very short time.” “With all my heart,” she replied, “do +but come in and begin the work at once.” Then she let in the three +strange women, and cleared a place in the first room, where they seated +themselves and began their spinning. The one drew the thread and trod +the wheel, the other wetted the thread, the third twisted it, and +struck the table with her finger, and as often as she struck it, a +skein of thread fell to the ground that was spun in the finest manner +possible. The girl concealed the three spinners from the Queen, and +showed her whenever she came the great quantity of spun thread, until +the latter could not praise her enough. When the first room was empty +she went to the second, and at last to the third, and that too was +quickly cleared. Then the three women took leave and said to the girl, +“Do not forget what thou hast promised us,—it will make thy fortune.” + +When the maiden showed the Queen the empty rooms, and the great heap of +yarn, she gave orders for the wedding, and the bridegroom rejoiced that +he was to have such a clever and industrious wife, and praised her +mightily. “I have three aunts,” said the girl, “and as they have been +very kind to me, I should not like to forget them in my good fortune; +allow me to invite them to the wedding, and let them sit with us at +table.” The Queen and the bridegroom said, “Why should we not allow +that?” Therefore when the feast began, the three women entered in +strange apparel, and the bride said, “Welcome, dear aunts.” “Ah,” said +the bridegroom, “how comest thou by these odious friends?” Thereupon he +went to the one with the broad flat foot, and said, “How do you come by +such a broad foot?” “By treading,” she answered, “by treading.” Then +the bridegroom went to the second, and said, “How do you come by your +falling lip?” “By licking,” she answered, “by licking.” Then he asked +the third, “How do you come by your broad thumb?” “By twisting the +thread,” she answered, “by twisting the thread.” On this the King’s son +was alarmed and said, “Neither now nor ever shall my beautiful bride +touch a spinning-wheel.” And thus she got rid of the hateful +flax-spinning. + + + +15 Hansel and Grethel + +Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his +two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Grethel. He had +little to bite and to break, and once when great scarcity fell on the +land, he could no longer procure daily bread. Now when he thought over +this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned +and said to his wife, “What is to become of us? How are we to feed our +poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?” +“I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman, “Early to-morrow +morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is +the thickest, there we will light a fire for them, and give each of +them one piece of bread more, and then we will go to our work and leave +them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid +of them.” “No, wife,” said the man, “I will not do that; how can I bear +to leave my children alone in the forest?—the wild animals would soon +come and tear them to pieces.” “O, thou fool!” said she, “Then we must +all four die of hunger, thou mayest as well plane the planks for our +coffins,” and she left him no peace until he consented. “But I feel +very sorry for the poor children, all the same,” said the man. + +The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had +heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Grethel wept +bitter tears, and said to Hansel, “Now all is over with us.” “Be quiet, +Grethel,” said Hansel, “do not distress thyself, I will soon find a way +to help us.” And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put +on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon +shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house +glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and put as many of +them in the little pocket of his coat as he could possibly get in. Then +he went back and said to Grethel, “Be comforted, dear little sister, +and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us,” and he lay down again in +his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came +and awoke the two children, saying “Get up, you sluggards! we are going +into the forest to fetch wood.” She gave each a little piece of bread, +and said, “There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up +before then, for you will get nothing else.” Grethel took the bread +under her apron, as Hansel had the stones in his pocket. Then they all +set out together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short +time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again +and again. His father said, “Hansel, what art thou looking at there and +staying behind for? Mind what thou art about, and do not forget how to +use thy legs.” “Ah, father,” said Hansel, “I am looking at my little +white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say good-bye +to me.” The wife said, “Fool, that is not thy little cat, that is the +morning sun which is shining on the chimneys.” Hansel, however, had not +been looking back at the cat, but had been constantly throwing one of +the white pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road. + +When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said, “Now, +children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not +be cold.” Hansel and Grethel gathered brushwood together, as high as a +little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were +burning very high, the woman said, “Now, children, lay yourselves down +by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood. +When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away.” + +Hansel and Grethel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a +little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe +they believed that their father was near. It was not, however, the axe, +it was a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind +was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had been sitting such a +long time, their eyes shut with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. +When at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Grethel began to +cry and said, “How are we to get out of the forest now?” But Hansel +comforted her and said, “Just wait a little, until the moon has risen, +and then we will soon find the way.” And when the full moon had risen, +Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles +which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way. + +They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more to +their father’s house. They knocked at the door, and when the woman +opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Grethel, she said, “You +naughty children, why have you slept so long in the forest?—we thought +you were never coming back at all!” The father, however, rejoiced, for +it had cut him to the heart to leave them behind alone. + +Not long afterwards, there was once more great scarcity in all parts, +and the children heard their mother saying at night to their father, +“Everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left, and after that +there is an end. The children must go, we will take them farther into +the wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no +other means of saving ourselves!” The man’s heart was heavy, and he +thought “it would be better for thee to share the last mouthful with +thy children.” The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had +to say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B, +likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a +second time also. + +The children were, however, still awake and had heard the conversation. +When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go +out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked +the door, and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his +little sister, and said, “Do not cry, Grethel, go to sleep quietly, the +good God will help us.” + +Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their +beds. Their bit of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller +than the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in +his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. +“Hansel, why dost thou stop and look round?” said the father, “go on.” +“I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, +and wants to say good-bye to me,” answered Hansel. “Simpleton!” said +the woman, “that is not thy little pigeon, that is the morning sun that +is shining on the chimney.” Hansel, however, little by little, threw +all the crumbs on the path. + +The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had +never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and +the mother said, “Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired +you may sleep a little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and +in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away.” When +it was noon, Grethel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had +scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening came and +went, but no one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it +was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister and said, “Just +wait, Grethel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs +of bread which I have strewn about, they will show us our way home +again.” When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for +the many thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had +picked them all up. Hansel said to Grethel, “We shall soon find the +way,” but they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the +next day too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the +forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or +three berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that +their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and +fell asleep. + +It was now three mornings since they had left their father’s house. +They began to walk again, but they always got deeper into the forest, +and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness. +When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a +bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to +it. And when it had finished its song, it spread its wings and flew +away before them, and they followed it until they reached a little +house, on the roof of which it alighted; and when they came quite up to +little house they saw that it was built of bread and covered with +cakes, but that the windows were of clear sugar. “We will set to work +on that,” said Hansel, “and have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the +roof, and thou, Grethel, canst eat some of the window, it will taste +sweet.” Hansel reached up above, and broke off a little of the roof to +try how it tasted, and Grethel leant against the window and nibbled at +the panes. Then a soft voice cried from the room, + +“Nibble, nibble, gnaw, +Who is nibbling at my little house?” + + +The children answered, + +“The wind, the wind, +The heaven-born wind,” + + +and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who thought +the roof tasted very nice, tore down a great piece of it, and Grethel +pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed +herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a very, very old woman, +who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and +Grethel were so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in +their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, “Oh, +you dear children, who has brought you here? Do come in, and stay with +me. No harm shall happen to you.” She took them both by the hand, and +led them into her little house. Then good food was set before them, +milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty +little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Grethel +lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven. + +The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality a +wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the +little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell +into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast +day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have +a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw +near. When Hansel and Grethel came into her neighborhood, she laughed +maliciously, and said mockingly, “I have them, they shall not escape me +again!” Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was +already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so +pretty, with their plump red cheeks, she muttered to herself, “That +will be a dainty mouthful!” Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled +hand, carried him into a little stable, and shut him in with a grated +door. He might scream as he liked, that was of no use. Then she went to +Grethel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, “Get up, lazy thing, +fetch some water, and cook something good for thy brother, he is in the +stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.” +Grethel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain, she was forced +to do what the wicked witch ordered her. + +And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grethel got +nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little +stable, and cried, “Hansel, stretch out thy finger that I may feel if +thou wilt soon be fat.” Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to +her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought +it was Hansel’s finger, and was astonished that there was no way of +fattening him. When four weeks had gone by, and Hansel still continued +thin, she was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer. +“Hola, Grethel,” she cried to the girl, “be active, and bring some +water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook +him.” Ah, how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch +the water, and how her tears did flow down over her cheeks! “Dear God, +do help us,” she cried. “If the wild beasts in the forest had but +devoured us, we should at any rate have died together.” “Just keep thy +noise to thyself,” said the old woman, “all that won’t help thee at +all.” + +Early in the morning, Grethel had to go out and hang up the cauldron +with the water, and light the fire. “We will bake first,” said the old +woman, “I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough.” She +pushed poor Grethel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were +already darting. “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it is properly +heated, so that we can shut the bread in.” And when once Grethel was +inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then +she would eat her, too. But Grethel saw what she had in her mind, and +said, “I do not know how I am to do it; how do you get in?” “Silly +goose,” said the old woman, “The door is big enough; just look, I can +get in myself!” and she crept up and thrust her head into the oven. +Then Grethel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the +iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh! then she began to howl quite +horribly, but Grethel ran away, and the godless witch was miserably +burnt to death. + +Grethel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little +stable, and cried, “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!” Then +Hansel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door is opened for +it. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and +kiss each other! And as they had no longer any need to fear her, they +went into the witch’s house, and in every corner there stood chests +full of pearls and jewels. “These are far better than pebbles!” said +Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever could be got in, and +Grethel said, “I, too, will take something home with me,” and filled +her pinafore full. “But now we will go away.” said Hansel, “that we may +get out of the witch’s forest.” + +When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great piece of +water. “We cannot get over,” said Hansel, “I see no foot-plank, and no +bridge.” “And no boat crosses either,” answered Grethel, “but a white +duck is swimming there; if I ask her, she will help us over.” Then she +cried, + +“Little duck, little duck, dost thou see, +Hansel and Grethel are waiting for thee? +There’s never a plank, or bridge in sight, +Take us across on thy back so white.” + + +The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back, and told +his sister to sit by him. “No,” replied Grethel, “that will be too +heavy for the little duck; she shall take us across, one after the +other.” The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely +across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more +and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from afar their +father’s house. Then they began to run, rushed into the parlour, and +threw themselves into their father’s arms. The man had not known one +happy hour since he had left the children in the forest; the woman, +however, was dead. Grethel emptied her pinafore until pearls and +precious stones ran about the room, and Hansel threw one handful after +another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all anxiety was at an +end, and they lived together in perfect happiness. My tale is done, +there runs a mouse, whosoever catches it, may make himself a big fur +cap out of it. + + + +16 The Three Snake-Leaves + +There was once on a time a poor man, who could no longer support his +only son. Then said the son, “Dear father, things go so badly with us +that I am a burden to you. I would rather go away and see how I can +earn my bread.” So the father gave him his blessing, and with great +sorrow took leave of him. At this time the King of a mighty empire was +at war, and the youth took service with him, and with him went out to +fight. And when he came before the enemy, there was a battle, and great +danger, and it rained shot until his comrades fell on all sides, and +when the leader also was killed, those left were about to take flight, +but the youth stepped forth, spoke boldly to them, and cried, “We will +not let our fatherland be ruined!” Then the others followed him, and he +pressed on and conquered the enemy. When the King heard that he owed +the victory to him alone, he raised him above all the others, gave him +great treasures, and made him the first in the kingdom. + +The King had a daughter who was very beautiful, but she was also very +strange. She had made a vow to take no one as her lord and husband who +did not promise to let himself be buried alive with her if she died +first. “If he loves me with all his heart,” said she, “of what use will +life be to him afterwards?” On her side she would do the same, and if +he died first, would go down to the grave with him. This strange oath +had up to this time frightened away all wooers, but the youth became so +charmed with her beauty that he cared for nothing, but asked her father +for her. “But dost thou know what thou must promise?” said the King. “I +must be buried with her,” he replied, “if I outlive her, but my love is +so great that I do not mind the danger.” Then the King consented, and +the wedding was solemnized with great splendour. + +They lived now for a while happy and contented with each other, and +then it befell that the young Queen was attacked by a severe illness, +and no physician could save her. And as she lay there dead, the young +King remembered what he had been obliged to promise, and was horrified +at having to lie down alive in the grave, but there was no escape. The +King had placed sentries at all the gates, and it was not possible to +avoid his fate. When the day came when the corpse was to be buried, he +was taken down into the royal vault with it and then the door was shut +and bolted. + +Near the coffin stood a table on which were four candles, four loaves +of bread, and four bottles of wine, and when this provision came to an +end, he would have to die of hunger. And now he sat there full of pain +and grief, ate every day only a little piece of bread, drank only a +mouthful of wine, and nevertheless saw death daily drawing nearer. +Whilst he thus gazed before him, he saw a snake creep out of a corner +of the vault and approach the dead body. And as he thought it came to +gnaw at it, he drew his sword and said, “As long as I live, thou shalt +not touch her,” and hewed the snake in three pieces. After a time a +second snake crept out of the hole, and when it saw the other lying +dead and cut in pieces, it went back, but soon came again with three +green leaves in its mouth. Then it took the three pieces of the snake, +laid them together, as they ought to go, and placed one of the leaves +on each wound. Immediately the severed parts joined themselves +together, the snake moved, and became alive again, and both of them +hastened away together. The leaves were left lying on the ground, and a +desire came into the mind of the unhappy man who had been watching all +this, to know if the wondrous power of the leaves which had brought the +snake to life again, could not likewise be of service to a human being. +So he picked up the leaves and laid one of them on the mouth of his +dead wife, and the two others on her eyes. And hardly had he done this +than the blood stirred in her veins, rose into her pale face, and +coloured it again. Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and said, +“Ah, God, where am I?” “Thou art with me, dear wife,” he answered, and +told her how everything had happened, and how he had brought her back +again to life. Then he gave her some wine and bread, and when she had +regained her strength, he raised her up and they went to the door and +knocked, and called so loudly that the sentries heard it, and told the +King. The King came down himself and opened the door, and there he +found both strong and well, and rejoiced with them that now all sorrow +was over. The young King, however, took the three snake-leaves with +him, gave them to a servant and said, “Keep them for me carefully, and +carry them constantly about thee; who knows in what trouble they may +yet be of service to us!” + +A change had, however, taken place in his wife; after she had been +restored to life, it seemed as if all love for her husband had gone out +of her heart. After some time, when he wanted to make a voyage over the +sea, to visit his old father, and they had gone on board a ship, she +forgot the great love and fidelity which he had shown her, and which +had been the means of rescuing her from death, and conceived a wicked +inclination for the skipper. And once when the young King lay there +asleep, she called in the skipper and seized the sleeper by the head, +and the skipper took him by the feet, and thus they threw him down into +the sea. When the shameful deed was done, she said, “Now let us return +home, and say that he died on the way. I will extol and praise thee so +to my father that he will marry me to thee, and make thee the heir to +his crown.” But the faithful servant who had seen all that they did, +unseen by them, unfastened a little boat from the ship, got into it, +sailed after his master, and let the traitors go on their way. He +fished up the dead body, and by the help of the three snake-leaves +which he carried about with him, and laid on the eyes and mouth, he +fortunately brought the young King back to life. + +They both rowed with all their strength day and night, and their little +boat flew so swiftly that they reached the old King before the others +did. He was astonished when he saw them come alone, and asked what had +happened to them. When he learnt the wickedness of his daughter he +said, “I cannot believe that she has behaved so ill, but the truth will +soon come to light,” and bade both go into a secret chamber and keep +themselves hidden from every one. Soon afterwards the great ship came +sailing in, and the godless woman appeared before her father with a +troubled countenance. He said, “Why dost thou come back alone? Where is +thy husband?” “Ah, dear father,” she replied, “I come home again in +great grief; during the voyage, my husband became suddenly ill and +died, and if the good skipper had not given me his help, it would have +gone ill with me. He was present at his death, and can tell you all.” +The King said, “I will make the dead alive again,” and opened the +chamber, and bade the two come out. When the woman saw her husband, she +was thunderstruck, and fell on her knees and begged for mercy. The King +said, “There is no mercy. He was ready to die with thee and restored +thee to life again, but thou hast murdered him in his sleep, and shalt +receive the reward that thou deservest.” Then she was placed with her +accomplice in a ship which had been pierced with holes, and sent out to +sea, where they soon sank amid the waves. + + + +17 The White Snake + +A long time ago there lived a king who was famed for his wisdom through +all the land. Nothing was hidden from him, and it seemed as if news of +the most secret things was brought to him through the air. But he had a +strange custom; every day after dinner, when the table was cleared, and +no one else was present, a trusty servant had to bring him one more +dish. It was covered, however, and even the servant did not know what +was in it, neither did anyone know, for the King never took off the +cover to eat of it until he was quite alone. + +This had gone on for a long time, when one day the servant, who took +away the dish, was overcome with such curiosity that he could not help +carrying the dish into his room. When he had carefully locked the door, +he lifted up the cover, and saw a white snake lying on the dish. But +when he saw it he could not deny himself the pleasure of tasting it, so +he cut off a little bit and put it into his mouth. No sooner had it +touched his tongue than he heard a strange whispering of little voices +outside his window. He went and listened, and then noticed that it was +the sparrows who were chattering together, and telling one another of +all kinds of things which they had seen in the fields and woods. Eating +the snake had given him power of understanding the language of animals. + +Now it so happened that on this very day the Queen lost her most +beautiful ring, and suspicion of having stolen it fell upon this trusty +servant, who was allowed to go everywhere. The King ordered the man to +be brought before him, and threatened with angry words that unless he +could before the morrow point out the thief, he himself should be +looked upon as guilty and executed. In vain he declared his innocence; +he was dismissed with no better answer. + +In his trouble and fear he went down into the courtyard and took +thought how to help himself out of his trouble. Now some ducks were +sitting together quietly by a brook and taking their rest; and, whilst +they were making their feathers smooth with their bills, they were +having a confidential conversation together. The servant stood by and +listened. They were telling one another of all the places where they +had been waddling about all the morning, and what good food they had +found, and one said in a pitiful tone, “Something lies heavy on my +stomach; as I was eating in haste I swallowed a ring which lay under +the Queen’s window.” The servant at once seized her by the neck, +carried her to the kitchen, and said to the cook, “Here is a fine duck; +pray, kill her.” “Yes,” said the cook, and weighed her in his hand; +“she has spared no trouble to fatten herself, and has been waiting to +be roasted long enough.” So he cut off her head, and as she was being +dressed for the spit, the Queen’s ring was found inside her. + +The servant could now easily prove his innocence; and the King, to make +amends for the wrong, allowed him to ask a favor, and promised him the +best place in the court that he could wish for. The servant refused +everything, and only asked for a horse and some money for traveling, as +he had a mind to see the world and go about a little. + +When his request was granted he set out on his way, and one day came to +a pond, where he saw three fishes caught in the reeds and gasping for +water. Now, though it is said that fishes are dumb, he heard them +lamenting that they must perish so miserably, and, as he had a kind +heart, he got off his horse and put the three prisoners back into the +water. They quivered with delight, put out their heads, and cried to +him, “We will remember you and repay you for saving us!” + +He rode on, and after a while it seemed to him that he heard a voice in +the sand at his feet. He listened, and heard an ant-king complain, “Why +cannot folks, with their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies? That +stupid horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my people +without mercy!” So he turned on to a side path and the ant-king cried +out to him, “We will remember you—one good turn deserves another!” + +The path led him into a wood, and here he saw two old ravens standing +by their nest, and throwing out their young ones. “Out with you, you +idle, good-for-nothing creatures!” cried they; “we cannot find food for +you any longer; you are big enough, and can provide for yourselves.” +But the poor young ravens lay upon the ground, flapping their wings, +and crying, “Oh, what helpless chicks we are! We must shift for +ourselves, and yet we cannot fly! What can we do, but lie here and +starve?” So the good young fellow alighted and killed his horse with +his sword, and gave it to them for food. Then they came hopping up to +it, satisfied their hunger, and cried, “We will remember you—one good +turn deserves another!” + +And now he had to use his own legs, and when he had walked a long way, +he came to a large city. There was a great noise and crowd in the +streets, and a man rode up on horseback, crying aloud, “The King’s +daughter wants a husband; but whoever sues for her hand must perform a +hard task, and if he does not succeed he will forfeit his life.” Many +had already made the attempt, but in vain; nevertheless when the youth +saw the King’s daughter he was so overcome by her great beauty that he +forgot all danger, went before the King, and declared himself a suitor. + +So he was led out to the sea, and a gold ring was thrown into it, in +his sight; then the King ordered him to fetch this ring up from the +bottom of the sea, and added, “If you come up again without it you will +be thrown in again and again until you perish amid the waves.” All the +people grieved for the handsome youth; then they went away, leaving him +alone by the sea. + +He stood on the shore and considered what he should do, when suddenly +he saw three fishes come swimming towards him, and they were the very +fishes whose lives he had saved. The one in the middle held a mussel in +its mouth, which it laid on the shore at the youth’s feet, and when he +had taken it up and opened it, there lay the gold ring in the shell. +Full of joy he took it to the King, and expected that he would grant +him the promised reward. + +But when the proud princess perceived that he was not her equal in +birth, she scorned him, and required him first to perform another task. +She went down into the garden and strewed with her own hands ten +sacks-full of millet-seed on the grass; then she said, “To-morrow +morning before sunrise these must be picked up, and not a single grain +be wanting.” + +The youth sat down in the garden and considered how it might be +possible to perform this task, but he could think of nothing, and there +he sat sorrowfully awaiting the break of day, when he should be led to +death. But as soon as the first rays of the sun shone into the garden +he saw all the ten sacks standing side by side, quite full, and not a +single grain was missing. The ant-king had come in the night with +thousands and thousands of ants, and the grateful creatures had by +great industry picked up all the millet-seed and gathered them into the +sacks. + +Presently the King’s daughter herself came down into the garden, and +was amazed to see that the young man had done the task she had given +him. But she could not yet conquer her proud heart, and said, “Although +he has performed both the tasks, he shall not be my husband until he +has brought me an apple from the Tree of Life.” + +The youth did not know where the Tree of Life stood, but he set out, +and would have gone on for ever, as long as his legs would carry him, +though he had no hope of finding it. After he had wandered through +three kingdoms, he came one evening to a wood, and lay down under a +tree to sleep. But he heard a rustling in the branches, and a golden +apple fell into his hand. At the same time three ravens flew down to +him, perched themselves upon his knee, and said, “We are the three +young ravens whom you saved from starving; when we had grown big, and +heard that you were seeking the Golden Apple, we flew over the sea to +the end of the world, where the Tree of Life stands, and have brought +you the apple.” The youth, full of joy, set out homewards, and took the +Golden Apple to the King’s beautiful daughter, who had no more excuses +left to make. They cut the Apple of Life in two and ate it together; +and then her heart became full of love for him, and they lived in +undisturbed happiness to a great age. + + + +18 The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean + +In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a dish +of beans and wanted to cook them. So she made a fire on her hearth, and +that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw. +When she was emptying the beans into the pan, one dropped without her +observing it, and lay on the ground beside a straw, and soon afterwards +a burning coal from the fire leapt down to the two. Then the straw +began and said, “Dear friends, from whence do you come here?” The coal +replied, “I fortunately sprang out of the fire, and if I had not +escaped by main force, my death would have been certain,—I should have +been burnt to ashes.” The bean said, “I too have escaped with a whole +skin, but if the old woman had got me into the pan, I should have been +made into broth without any mercy, like my comrades.” “And would a +better fate have fallen to my lot?” said the straw. “The old woman has +destroyed all my brethren in fire and smoke; she seized sixty of them +at once, and took their lives. I luckily slipped through her fingers.” + +“But what are we to do now?” said the coal. + +“I think,” answered the bean, “that as we have so fortunately escaped +death, we should keep together like good companions, and lest a new +mischance should overtake us here, we should go away together, and +repair to a foreign country.” + +The proposition pleased the two others, and they set out on their way +in company. Soon, however, they came to a little brook, and as there +was no bridge or foot-plank, they did not know how they were to get +over it. The straw hit on a good idea, and said, “I will lay myself +straight across, and then you can walk over on me as on a bridge.” The +straw therefore stretched itself from one bank to the other, and the +coal, who was of an impetuous disposition, tripped quite boldly on to +the newly-built bridge. But when she had reached the middle, and heard +the water rushing beneath her, she was, after all, afraid, and stood +still, and ventured no farther. The straw, however, began to burn, +broke in two pieces, and fell into the stream. The coal slipped after +her, hissed when she got into the water, and breathed her last. The +bean, who had prudently stayed behind on the shore, could not but laugh +at the event, was unable to stop, and laughed so heartily that she +burst. It would have been all over with her, likewise, if, by good +fortune, a tailor who was traveling in search of work, had not sat down +to rest by the brook. As he had a compassionate heart he pulled out his +needle and thread, and sewed her together. The bean thanked him most +prettily, but as the tailor used black thread, all beans since then +have a black seam. + + + +19 The Fisherman and His Wife + +There was once on a time a Fisherman who lived with his wife in a +miserable hovel close by the sea, and every day he went out fishing. +And once as he was sitting with his rod, looking at the clear water, +his line suddenly went down, far down below, and when he drew it up +again he brought out a large Flounder. Then the Flounder said to him, +“Hark, you Fisherman, I pray you, let me live, I am no Flounder really, +but an enchanted prince. What good will it do you to kill me? I should +not be good to eat, put me in the water again, and let me go.” “Come,” +said the Fisherman, “there is no need for so many words about it—a fish +that can talk I should certainly let go, anyhow,” with that he put him +back again into the clear water, and the Flounder went to the bottom, +leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the Fisherman got up +and went home to his wife in the hovel. + +“Husband,” said the woman, “have you caught nothing to-day?” “No,” said +the man, “I did catch a Flounder, who said he was an enchanted prince, +so I let him go again.” “Did you not wish for anything first?” said the +woman. “No,” said the man; “what should I wish for?” “Ah,” said the +woman, “it is surely hard to have to live always in this dirty hovel; +you might have wished for a small cottage for us. Go back and call him. +Tell him we want to have a small cottage, he will certainly give us +that.” “Ah,” said the man, “why should I go there again?” “Why,” said +the woman, “you did catch him, and you let him go again; he is sure to +do it. Go at once.” The man still did not quite like to go, but did not +like to oppose his wife, and went to the sea. + +When he got there the sea was all green and yellow, and no longer so +smooth; so he stood still and said, + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me; +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will.” + + +Then the Flounder came swimming to him and said, “Well what does she +want, then?” “Ah,” said the man, “I did catch you, and my wife says I +really ought to have wished for something. She does not like to live in +a wretched hovel any longer. She would like to have a cottage.” “Go, +then,” said the Flounder, “she has it already.” + +When the man went home, his wife was no longer in the hovel, but +instead of it there stood a small cottage, and she was sitting on a +bench before the door. Then she took him by the hand and said to him, +“Just come inside, look, now isn’t this a great deal better?” So they +went in, and there was a small porch, and a pretty little parlor and +bedroom, and a kitchen and pantry, with the best of furniture, and +fitted up with the most beautiful things made of tin and brass, +whatsoever was wanted. And behind the cottage there was a small yard, +with hens and ducks, and a little garden with flowers and fruit. +“Look,” said the wife, “is not that nice!” “Yes,” said the husband, +“and so we must always think it,—now we will live quite contented.” “We +will think about that,” said the wife. With that they ate something and +went to bed. + +Everything went well for a week or a fortnight, and then the woman +said, “Hark you, husband, this cottage is far too small for us, and the +garden and yard are little; the Flounder might just as well have given +us a larger house. I should like to live in a great stone castle; go to +the Flounder, and tell him to give us a castle.” “Ah, wife,” said the +man, “the cottage is quite good enough; why should we live in a +castle?” “What!” said the woman; “just go there, the Flounder can +always do that.” “No, wife,” said the man, “the Flounder has just given +us the cottage, I do not like to go back so soon, it might make him +angry.” “Go,” said the woman, “he can do it quite easily, and will be +glad to do it; just you go to him.” + +The man’s heart grew heavy, and he would not go. He said to himself, +“It is not right,” and yet he went. And when he came to the sea the +water was quite purple and dark-blue, and grey and thick, and no longer +so green and yellow, but it was still quiet. And he stood there and +said— + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me; +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will.” + + +“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the +man, half scared, “she wants to live in a great stone castle.” “Go to +it, then, she is standing before the door,” said the Flounder. + +Then the man went away, intending to go home, but when he got there, he +found a great stone palace, and his wife was just standing on the steps +going in, and she took him by the hand and said, “Come in.” So he went +in with her, and in the castle was a great hall paved with marble, and +many servants, who flung wide the doors; And the walls were all bright +with beautiful hangings, and in the rooms were chairs and tables of +pure gold, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and all the +rooms and bed-rooms had carpets, and food and wine of the very best +were standing on all the tables, so that they nearly broke down beneath +it. Behind the house, too, there was a great court-yard, with stables +for horses and cows, and the very best of carriages; there was a +magnificent large garden, too, with the most beautiful flowers and +fruit-trees, and a park quite half a mile long, in which were stags, +deer, and hares, and everything that could be desired. “Come,” said the +woman, “isn’t that beautiful?” “Yes, indeed,” said the man, “now let it +be; and we will live in this beautiful castle and be content.” “We will +consider about that,” said the woman, “and sleep upon it;” thereupon +they went to bed. + +Next morning the wife awoke first, and it was just daybreak, and from +her bed she saw the beautiful country lying before her. Her husband was +still stretching himself, so she poked him in the side with her elbow, +and said, “Get up, husband, and just peep out of the window. Look you, +couldn’t we be the King over all that land? Go to the Flounder, we will +be the King.” “Ah, wife,” said the man, “why should we be King? I do +not want to be King.” “Well,” said the wife, “if you won’t be King, I +will; go to the Flounder, for I will be King.” “Ah, wife,” said the +man, “why do you want to be King? I do not like to say that to him.” +“Why not?” said the woman; “go to him this instant; I must be King!” So +the man went, and was quite unhappy because his wife wished to be King. +“It is not right; it is not right,” thought he. He did not wish to go, +but yet he went. + +And when he came to the sea, it was quite dark-grey, and the water +heaved up from below, and smelt putrid. Then he went and stood by it, +and said, + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me; +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will” + + +“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the +man, “she wants to be King.” “Go to her; she is King already.” + +So the man went, and when he came to the palace, the castle had become +much larger, and had a great tower and magnificent ornaments, and the +sentinel was standing before the door, and there were numbers of +soldiers with kettle-drums and trumpets. And when he went inside the +house, everything was of real marble and gold, with velvet covers and +great golden tassels. Then the doors of the hall were opened, and there +was the court in all its splendour, and his wife was sitting on a high +throne of gold and diamonds, with a great crown of gold on her head, +and a sceptre of pure gold and jewels in her hand, and on both sides of +her stood her maids-in-waiting in a row, each of them always one head +shorter than the last. + +Then he went and stood before her, and said, “Ah, wife, and now you are +King.” “Yes,” said the woman, “now I am King.” So he stood and looked +at her, and when he had looked at her thus for some time, he said, “And +now that you are King, let all else be, now we will wish for nothing +more.” “Nay, husband,” said the woman, quite anxiously, “I find time +pass very heavily, I can bear it no longer; go to the Flounder—I am +King, but I must be Emperor, too.” “Alas, wife, why do you wish to be +Emperor?” “Husband,” said she, “go to the Flounder. I will be Emperor.” +“Alas, wife,” said the man, “he cannot make you Emperor; I may not say +that to the fish. There is only one Emperor in the land. An Emperor the +Flounder cannot make you! I assure you he cannot.” + +“What!” said the woman, “I am the King, and you are nothing but my +husband; will you go this moment? go at once! If he can make a King he +can make an emperor. I will be Emperor; go instantly.” So he was forced +to go. As the man went, however, he was troubled in mind, and thought +to himself, “It will not end well; it will not end well! Emperor is too +shameless! The Flounder will at last be tired out.” + +With that he reached the sea, and the sea was quite black and thick, +and began to boil up from below, so that it threw up bubbles, and such +a sharp wind blew over it that it curdled, and the man was afraid. Then +he went and stood by it, and said, + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me; +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will.” + + +“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas, Flounder,” +said he, “my wife wants to be Emperor.” “Go to her,” said the Flounder; +“she is Emperor already.” + +So the man went, and when he got there the whole palace was made of +polished marble with alabaster figures and golden ornaments, and +soldiers were marching before the door blowing trumpets, and beating +cymbals and drums; and in the house, barons, and counts, and dukes were +going about as servants. Then they opened the doors to him, which were +of pure gold. And when he entered, there sat his wife on a throne, +which was made of one piece of gold, and was quite two miles high; and +she wore a great golden crown that was three yards high, and set with +diamonds and carbuncles, and in one hand she had the sceptre, and in +the other the imperial orb; and on both sides of her stood the yeomen +of the guard in two rows, each being smaller than the one before him, +from the biggest giant, who was two miles high, to the very smallest +dwarf, just as big as my little finger. And before it stood a number of +princes and dukes. + +Then the man went and stood among them, and said, “Wife, are you +Emperor now?” “Yes,” said she, “now I am Emperor.” Then he stood and +looked at her well, and when he had looked at her thus for some time, +he said, “Ah, wife, be content, now that you are Emperor.” “Husband,” +said she, “why are you standing there? Now, I am Emperor, but I will be +Pope too; go to the Flounder.” “Alas, wife,” said the man, “what will +you not wish for? You cannot be Pope. There is but one in Christendom. +He cannot make you Pope.” “Husband,” said she, “I will be Pope; go +immediately, I must be Pope this very day.” “No, wife,” said the man, +“I do not like to say that to him; that would not do, it is too much; +the Flounder can’t make you Pope.” “Husband,” said she, “what nonsense! +If he can make an emperor he can make a pope. Go to him directly. I am +Emperor, and you are nothing but my husband; will you go at once?” + +Then he was afraid and went; but he was quite faint, and shivered and +shook, and his knees and legs trembled. And a high wind blew over the +land, and the clouds flew, and towards evening all grew dark, and the +leaves fell from the trees, and the water rose and roared as if it were +boiling, and splashed upon the shore. And in the distance he saw ships +which were firing guns in their sore need, pitching and tossing on the +waves. And yet in the midst of the sky there was still a small bit of +blue, though on every side it was as red as in a heavy storm. So, full +of despair, he went and stood in much fear and said, + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me;” +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will. + + +“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the +man, “she wants to be Pope.” “Go to her then,” said the Flounder; “she +is Pope already.” + +So he went, and when he got there, he saw what seemed to be a large +church surrounded by palaces. He pushed his way through the crowd. +Inside, however, everything was lighted up with thousands and thousands +of candles, and his wife was clad in gold, and she was sitting on a +much higher throne, and had three great golden crowns on, and round +about her there was much ecclesiastical splendour; and on both sides of +her was a row of candles the largest of which was as tall as the very +tallest tower, down to the very smallest kitchen candle, and all the +emperors and kings were on their knees before her, kissing her shoe. +“Wife,” said the man, and looked attentively at her, “are you now +Pope?” “Yes,” said she, “I am Pope.” So he stood and looked at her, and +it was just as if he was looking at the bright sun. When he had stood +looking at her thus for a short time, he said, “Ah, wife, if you are +Pope, do let well alone!” But she looked as stiff as a post, and did +not move or show any signs of life. Then said he, “Wife, now that you +are Pope, be satisfied, you cannot become anything greater now.” “I +will consider about that,” said the woman. Thereupon they both went to +bed, but she was not satisfied, and greediness let her have no sleep, +for she was continually thinking what there was left for her to be. + +The man slept well and soundly, for he had run about a great deal +during the day; but the woman could not fall asleep at all, and flung +herself from one side to the other the whole night through, thinking +always what more was left for her to be, but unable to call to mind +anything else. At length the sun began to rise, and when the woman saw +the red of dawn, she sat up in bed and looked at it. And when, through +the window, she saw the sun thus rising, she said, “Cannot I, too, +order the sun and moon to rise?” “Husband,” she said, poking him in the +ribs with her elbows, “wake up! go to the Flounder, for I wish to be +even as God is.” The man was still half asleep, but he was so horrified +that he fell out of bed. He thought he must have heard amiss, and +rubbed his eyes, and said, “Alas, wife, what are you saying?” +“Husband,” said she, “if I can’t order the sun and moon to rise, and +have to look on and see the sun and moon rising, I can’t bear it. I +shall not know what it is to have another happy hour, unless I can make +them rise myself.” Then she looked at him so terribly that a shudder +ran over him, and said, “Go at once; I wish to be like unto God.” +“Alas, wife,” said the man, falling on his knees before her, “the +Flounder cannot do that; he can make an emperor and a pope; I beseech +you, go on as you are, and be Pope.” Then she fell into a rage, and her +hair flew wildly about her head, and she cried, “I will not endure +this, I’ll not bear it any longer; wilt thou go?” Then he put on his +trousers and ran away like a madman. But outside a great storm was +raging, and blowing so hard that he could scarcely keep his feet; +houses and trees toppled over, the mountains trembled, rocks rolled +into the sea, the sky was pitch black, and it thundered and lightened, +and the sea came in with black waves as high as church-towers and +mountains, and all with crests of white foam at the top. Then he cried, +but could not hear his own words, + +“Flounder, flounder in the sea, +Come, I pray thee, here to me; +For my wife, good Ilsabil, +Wills not as I’d have her will.” + + +“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said he, +“she wants to be like unto God.” “Go to her, and you will find her back +again in the dirty hovel.” And there they are living still at this very +time. + + + +20 The Valiant Little Tailor + +One summer’s morning a little tailor was sitting on his table by the +window; he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his might. Then came +a peasant woman down the street crying, “Good jams, cheap! Good jams, +cheap!” This rang pleasantly in the tailor’s ears; he stretched his +delicate head out of the window, and called, “Come up here, dear woman; +here you will get rid of your goods.” The woman came up the three steps +to the tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack the whole +of the pots for him. He inspected all of them, lifted them up, put his +nose to them, and at length said, “The jam seems to me to be good, so +weigh me out four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound +that is of no consequence.” The woman who had hoped to find a good +sale, gave him what he desired, but went away quite angry and +grumbling. “Now, God bless the jam to my use,” cried the little tailor, +“and give me health and strength;” so he brought the bread out of the +cupboard, cut himself a piece right across the loaf and spread the jam +over it. “This won’t taste bitter,” said he, “but I will just finish +the jacket before I take a bite.” He laid the bread near him, sewed on, +and in his joy, made bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the +smell of the sweet jam ascended so to the wall, where the flies were +sitting in great numbers, that they were attracted and descended on it +in hosts. “Hola! who invited you?” said the little tailor, and drove +the unbidden guests away. The flies, however, who understood no German, +would not be turned away, but came back again in ever-increasing +companies. The little tailor at last lost all patience, and got a bit +of cloth from the hole under his work-table, and saying, “Wait, and I +will give it to you,” struck it mercilessly on them. When he drew it +away and counted, there lay before him no fewer than seven, dead and +with legs stretched out. “Art thou a fellow of that sort?” said he, and +could not help admiring his own bravery. “The whole town shall know of +this!” And the little tailor hastened to cut himself a girdle, stitched +it, and embroidered on it in large letters, “Seven at one stroke!” +“What, the town!” he continued, “The whole world shall hear of it!” and +his heart wagged with joy like a lamb’s tail. The tailor put on the +girdle, and resolved to go forth into the world, because he thought his +workshop was too small for his valour. Before he went away, he sought +about in the house to see if there was anything which he could take +with him; however, he found nothing but an old cheese, and that he put +in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a bird which had caught +itself in the thicket. It had to go into his pocket with the cheese. +Now he took to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, he felt +no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and when he had reached the +highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking about him quite +comfortably. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said, +“Good day, comrade, so thou art sitting there overlooking the +wide-spread world! I am just on my way thither, and want to try my +luck. Hast thou any inclination to go with me?” The giant looked +contemptuously at the tailor, and said, “Thou ragamuffin! Thou +miserable creature!” + +“Oh, indeed?” answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and +showed the giant the girdle, “There mayst thou read what kind of a man +I am!” The giant read, “Seven at one stroke,” and thought that they had +been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a little respect +for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to try him first, and took +a stone in his hand and squeezed it together so that water dropped out +of it. “Do that likewise,” said the giant, “if thou hast strength?” “Is +that all?” said the tailor, “that is child’s play with us!” and put his +hand into his pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until +the liquid ran out of it. “Faith,” said he, “that was a little better, +wasn’t it?” The giant did not know what to say, and could not believe +it of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so +high that the eye could scarcely follow it. “Now, little mite of a man, +do that likewise.” “Well thrown,” said the tailor, “but after all the +stone came down to earth again; I will throw you one which shall never +come back at all.” And he put his hand into his pocket, took out the +bird, and threw it into the air. The bird, delighted with its liberty, +rose, flew away and did not come back. “How does that shot please you, +comrade?” asked the tailor. “Thou canst certainly throw,” said the +giant, “but now we will see if thou art able to carry anything +properly.” He took the little tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay +there felled on the ground, and said, “If thou art strong enough, help +me to carry the tree out of the forest.” “Readily,” answered the little +man; “take thou the trunk on thy shoulders, and I will raise up the +branches and twigs; after all, they are the heaviest.” The giant took +the trunk on his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, +and the giant who could not look round, had to carry away the whole +tree, and the little tailor into the bargain: he behind, was quite +merry and happy, and whistled the song, “Three tailors rode forth from +the gate,” as if carrying the tree were child’s play. The giant, after +he had dragged the heavy burden part of the way, could go no further, +and cried, “Hark you, I shall have to let the tree fall!” The tailor +sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with both arms as if he had been +carrying it, and said to the giant, “Thou art such a great fellow, and +yet canst not even carry the tree!” + +They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant laid +hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it +down, gave it into the tailor’s hand, and bade him eat. But the little +tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it +go, it sprang back again, and the tailor was hurried into the air with +it. When he had fallen down again without injury, the giant said, “What +is this? Hast thou not strength enough to hold the weak twig?” “There +is no lack of strength,” answered the little tailor. “Dost thou think +that could be anything to a man who has struck down seven at one blow? +I leapt over the tree because the huntsmen are shooting down there in +the thicket. Jump as I did, if thou canst do it.” The giant made the +attempt, but could not get over the tree, and remained hanging in the +branches, so that in this also the tailor kept the upper hand. + +The giant said, “If thou art such a valiant fellow, come with me into +our cavern and spend the night with us.” The little tailor was willing, +and followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were +sitting there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep in his +hand and was eating it. The little tailor looked round and thought, “It +is much more spacious here than in my workshop.” The giant showed him a +bed, and said he was to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was +too big for the little tailor; he did not lie down in it, but crept +into a corner. When it was midnight, and the giant thought that the +little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great iron +bar, cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had given the +grasshopper his finishing stroke. With the earliest dawn the giants +went into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when +all at once he walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The giants +were terrified, they were afraid that he would strike them all dead, +and ran away in a great hurry. + +The little tailor went onwards, always following his own pointed nose. +After he had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a +royal palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell +asleep. Whilst he lay there, the people came and inspected him on all +sides, and read on his girdle, “Seven at one stroke.” “Ah,” said they, +“What does the great warrior here in the midst of peace? He must be a +mighty lord.” They went and announced him to the King, and gave it as +their opinion that if war should break out, this would be a weighty and +useful man who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The counsel +pleased the King, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor +to offer him military service when he awoke. The ambassador remained +standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and opened +his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. “For this very reason +have I come here,” the tailor replied, “I am ready to enter the King’s +service.” He was therefore honorably received and a special dwelling +was assigned him. + +The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and wished +him a thousand miles away. “What is to be the end of this?” they said +amongst themselves. “If we quarrel with him, and he strikes about him, +seven of us will fall at every blow; not one of us can stand against +him.” They came therefore to a decision, betook themselves in a body to +the King, and begged for their dismissal. “We are not prepared,” said +they, “to stay with a man who kills seven at one stroke.” The King was +sorry that for the sake of one he should lose all his faithful +servants, wished that he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would +willingly have been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give +him his dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all his +people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about it +for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He sent to the little +tailor and caused him to be informed that as he was such a great +warrior, he had one request to make to him. In a forest of his country +lived two giants who caused great mischief with their robbing, +murdering, ravaging, and burning, and no one could approach them +without putting himself in danger of death. If the tailor conquered and +killed these two giants, he would give him his only daughter to wife, +and half of his kingdom as a dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen +should go with him to assist him. “That would indeed be a fine thing +for a man like me!” thought the little tailor. “One is not offered a +beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one’s life!” “Oh, +yes,” he replied, “I will soon subdue the giants, and do not require +the help of the hundred horsemen to do it; he who can hit seven with +one blow has no need to be afraid of two.” + +The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed him. +When he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to his followers, +“Just stay waiting here, I alone will soon finish off the giants.” Then +he bounded into the forest and looked about right and left. After a +while he perceived both giants. They lay sleeping under a tree, and +snored so that the branches waved up and down. The little tailor, not +idle, gathered two pocketsful of stones, and with these climbed up the +tree. When he was half-way up, he slipped down by a branch, until he +sat just above the sleepers, and then let one stone after another fall +on the breast of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt +nothing, but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, “Why art +thou knocking me?” “Thou must be dreaming,” said the other, “I am not +knocking thee.” They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the +tailor threw a stone down on the second. “What is the meaning of this?” +cried the other. “Why art thou pelting me?” “I am not pelting thee,” +answered the first, growling. They disputed about it for a time, but as +they were weary they let the matter rest, and their eyes closed once +more. The little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest +stone, and threw it with all his might on the breast of the first +giant. “That is too bad!” cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and +pushed his companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid +him back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore +up trees and belabored each other so long, that at last they both fell +down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt +down. “It is a lucky thing,” said he, “that they did not tear up the +tree on which I was sitting, or I should have had to spring on to +another like a squirrel; but we tailors are nimble.” He drew out his +sword and gave each of them a couple of thrusts in the breast, and then +went out to the horsemen and said, “The work is done; I have given both +of them their finishing stroke, but it was hard work! They tore up +trees in their sore need, and defended themselves with them, but all +that is to no purpose when a man like myself comes, who can kill seven +at one blow.” “But are you not wounded?” asked the horsemen. “You need +not concern yourself about that,” answered the tailor, “They have not +bent one hair of mine.” The horsemen would not believe him, and rode +into the forest; there they found the giants swimming in their blood, +and all round about lay the torn-up trees. + +The little tailor demanded of the King the promised reward; he, +however, repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how he +could get rid of the hero. “Before thou receivest my daughter, and the +half of my kingdom,” said he to him, “thou must perform one more heroic +deed. In the forest roams a unicorn which does great harm, and thou +must catch it first.” “I fear one unicorn still less than two giants. +Seven at one blow, is my kind of affair.” He took a rope and an axe +with him, went forth into the forest, and again bade those who were +sent with him to wait outside. He had to seek long. The unicorn soon +came towards him, and rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would +spit him on his horn without more ceremony. “Softly, softly; it can’t +be done as quickly as that,” said he, and stood still and waited until +the animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The +unicorn ran against the tree with all its strength, and struck its horn +so fast in the trunk that it had not strength enough to draw it out +again, and thus it was caught. “Now, I have got the bird,” said the +tailor, and came out from behind the tree and put the rope round its +neck, and then with his axe he hewed the horn out of the tree, and when +all was ready he led the beast away and took it to the King. + +The King still would not give him the promised reward, and made a third +demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a wild boar that +made great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen should give him their +help. “Willingly,” said the tailor, “that is child’s play!” He did not +take the huntsmen with him into the forest, and they were well pleased +that he did not, for the wild boar had several times received them in +such a manner that they had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When +the boar perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and +whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the active +hero sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to the window at once, +and in one bound out again. The boar ran in after him, but the tailor +ran round outside and shut the door behind it, and then the raging +beast, which was much too heavy and awkward to leap out of the window, +was caught. The little tailor called the huntsmen thither that they +might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however went to +the King, who was now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep his +promise, and gave him his daughter and the half of his kingdom. Had he +known that it was no warlike hero, but a little tailor who was standing +before him, it would have gone to his heart still more than it did. The +wedding was held with great magnificence and small joy, and out of a +tailor a king was made. + +After some time the young Queen heard her husband say in his dreams at +night, “Boy, make me the doublet, and patch the pantaloons, or else I +will rap the yard-measure over thine ears.” Then she discovered in what +state of life the young lord had been born, and next morning complained +of her wrongs to her father, and begged him to help her to get rid of +her husband, who was nothing else but a tailor. The King comforted her +and said, “Leave thy bed-room door open this night, and my servants +shall stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in, bind +him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him into the wide +world.” The woman was satisfied with this; but the King’s +armour-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young lord, and +informed him of the whole plot. “I’ll put a screw into that business,” +said the little tailor. At night he went to bed with his wife at the +usual time, and when she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up, +opened the door, and then lay down again. The little tailor, who was +only pretending to be asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, “Boy, +make me the doublet and patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the +yard-measure over thine ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two +giants, I brought away one unicorn and caught a wild boar, and am I to +fear those who are standing outside the room.” When these men heard the +tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by a great dread, and ran as +if the wild huntsman were behind them, and none of them would venture +anything further against him. So the little tailor was a king and +remained one, to the end of his life. + + + +21 Cinderella + +The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end was +drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said, +“Dear child, be good and pious, and then the good God will always +protect thee, and I will look down on thee from heaven and be near +thee.” Thereupon she closed her eyes and departed. Every day the maiden +went out to her mother’s grave, and wept, and she remained pious and +good. When winter came the snow spread a white sheet over the grave, +and when the spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken +another wife. + +The woman had brought two daughters into the house with her, who were +beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of heart. Now began a +bad time for the poor step-child. “Is the stupid goose to sit in the +parlour with us?” said they. “He who wants to eat bread must earn it; +out with the kitchen-wench.” They took her pretty clothes away from +her, put an old grey bedgown on her, and gave her wooden shoes. “Just +look at the proud princess, how decked out she is!” they cried, and +laughed, and led her into the kitchen. There she had to do hard work +from morning till night, get up before daybreak, carry water, light +fires, cook and wash. Besides this, the sisters did her every +imaginable injury—they mocked her and emptied her peas and lentils into +the ashes, so that she was forced to sit and pick them out again. In +the evening when she had worked till she was weary she had no bed to go +to, but had to sleep by the fireside in the ashes. And as on that +account she always looked dusty and dirty, they called her Cinderella. +It happened that the father was once going to the fair, and he asked +his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them. “Beautiful +dresses,” said one, “Pearls and jewels,” said the second. “And thou, +Cinderella,” said he, “what wilt thou have?” “Father, break off for me +the first branch which knocks against your hat on your way home.” So he +bought beautiful dresses, pearls and jewels for his two step-daughters, +and on his way home, as he was riding through a green thicket, a hazel +twig brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the +branch and took it with him. When he reached home he gave his +step-daughters the things which they had wished for, and to Cinderella +he gave the branch from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him, went to +her mother’s grave and planted the branch on it, and wept so much that +the tears fell down on it and watered it. And it grew, however, and +became a handsome tree. Thrice a day Cinderella went and sat beneath +it, and wept and prayed, and a little white bird always came on the +tree, and if Cinderella expressed a wish, the bird threw down to her +what she had wished for. + +It happened, however, that the King appointed a festival which was to +last three days, and to which all the beautiful young girls in the +country were invited, in order that his son might choose himself a +bride. When the two step-sisters heard that they too were to appear +among the number, they were delighted, called Cinderella and said, +“Comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten our buckles, for we +are going to the festival at the King’s palace.” Cinderella obeyed, but +wept, because she too would have liked to go with them to the dance, +and begged her step-mother to allow her to do so. “Thou go, +Cinderella!” said she; “Thou art dusty and dirty and wouldst go to the +festival? Thou hast no clothes and shoes, and yet wouldst dance!” As, +however, Cinderella went on asking, the step-mother at last said, “I +have emptied a dish of lentils into the ashes for thee, if thou hast +picked them out again in two hours, thou shalt go with us.” The maiden +went through the back-door into the garden, and called, “You tame +pigeons, you turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and +help me to pick + +“The good into the pot, +The bad into the crop.” + + +Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards +the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds beneath the sky, came +whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the +pigeons nodded with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and +the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good +grains into the dish. Hardly had one hour passed before they had +finished, and all flew out again. Then the girl took the dish to her +step-mother, and was glad, and believed that now she would be allowed +to go with them to the festival. But the step-mother said, “No, +Cinderella, thou hast no clothes and thou canst not dance; thou wouldst +only be laughed at.” And as Cinderella wept at this, the step-mother +said, “If thou canst pick two dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me +in one hour, thou shalt go with us.” And she thought to herself, “That +she most certainly cannot do.” When the step-mother had emptied the two +dishes of lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the +back-door into the garden and cried, You tame pigeons, you +turtle-doves, and all you birds under heaven, come and help me to pick + +“The good into the pot, +The bad into the crop.” + + +Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards +the turtle-doves, and at length all the birds beneath the sky, came +whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the doves +nodded with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and the +others began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good +seeds into the dishes, and before half an hour was over they had +already finished, and all flew out again. Then the maiden carried the +dishes to the step-mother and was delighted, and believed that she +might now go with them to the festival. But the step-mother said, “All +this will not help thee; thou goest not with us, for thou hast no +clothes and canst not dance; we should be ashamed of thee!” On this she +turned her back on Cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud +daughters. + +As no one was now at home, Cinderella went to her mother’s grave +beneath the hazel-tree, and cried, + +“Shiver and quiver, little tree, +Silver and gold throw down over me.” + + +Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and slippers +embroidered with silk and silver. She put on the dress with all speed, +and went to the festival. Her step-sisters and the step-mother however +did not know her, and thought she must be a foreign princess, for she +looked so beautiful in the golden dress. They never once thought of +Cinderella, and believed that she was sitting at home in the dirt, +picking lentils out of the ashes. The prince went to meet her, took her +by the hand and danced with her. He would dance with no other maiden, +and never left loose of her hand, and if any one else came to invite +her, he said, “This is my partner.” + +She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home. But the +King’s son said, “I will go with thee and bear thee company,” for he +wished to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. She escaped from +him, however, and sprang into the pigeon-house. The King’s son waited +until her father came, and then he told him that the stranger maiden +had leapt into the pigeon-house. The old man thought, “Can it be +Cinderella?” and they had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he +might hew the pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it. And +when they got home Cinderella lay in her dirty clothes among the ashes, +and a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the mantle-piece, for +Cinderella had jumped quickly down from the back of the pigeon-house +and had run to the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken off her +beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken +them away again, and then she had placed herself in the kitchen amongst +the ashes in her grey gown. + +Next day when the festival began afresh, and her parents and the +step-sisters had gone once more, Cinderella went to the hazel-tree and +said— + +“Shiver and quiver, my little tree, +Silver and gold throw down over me.” + + +Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on the +preceding day. And when Cinderella appeared at the festival in this +dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The King’s son had +waited until she came, and instantly took her by the hand and danced +with no one but her. When others came and invited her, he said, “She is +my partner.” When evening came she wished to leave, and the King’s son +followed her and wanted to see into which house she went. But she +sprang away from him, and into the garden behind the house. Therein +stood a beautiful tall tree on which hung the most magnificent pears. +She clambered so nimbly between the branches like a squirrel that the +King’s son did not know where she was gone. He waited until her father +came, and said to him, “The stranger-maiden has escaped from me, and I +believe she has climbed up the pear-tree.” The father thought, “Can it +be Cinderella?” and had an axe brought and cut the tree down, but no +one was on it. And when they got into the kitchen, Cinderella lay there +amongst the ashes, as usual, for she had jumped down on the other side +of the tree, had taken the beautiful dress to the bird on the little +hazel-tree, and put on her grey gown. + +On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away, +Cinderella went once more to her mother’s grave and said to the little +tree— + +“Shiver and quiver, my little tree, +Silver and gold throw down over me.” + + +And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was more splendid and +magnificent than any she had yet had, and the slippers were golden. And +when she went to the festival in the dress, no one knew how to speak +for astonishment. The King’s son danced with her only, and if any one +invited her to dance, he said, “She is my partner.” + +When evening came, Cinderella wished to leave, and the King’s son was +anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so quickly that he +could not follow her. The King’s son had, however, used a strategem, +and had caused the whole staircase to be smeared with pitch, and there, +when she ran down, had the maiden’s left slipper remained sticking. The +King’s son picked it up, and it was small and dainty, and all golden. +Next morning, he went with it to the father, and said to him, “No one +shall be my wife but she whose foot this golden slipper fits.” Then +were the two sisters glad, for they had pretty feet. The eldest went +with the shoe into her room and wanted to try it on, and her mother +stood by. But she could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe was +too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, “Cut the +toe off; when thou art Queen thou wilt have no more need to go on +foot.” The maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the shoe, +swallowed the pain, and went out to the King’s son. Then he took her on +his horse as his bride and rode away with her. They were, however, +obliged to pass the grave, and there, on the hazel-tree, sat the two +pigeons and cried, + +“Turn and peep, turn and peep, +There’s blood within the shoe, +The shoe it is too small for her, +The true bride waits for you.” + + +Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from it. +He turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, and said +she was not the true one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe +on. Then this one went into her chamber and got her toes safely into +the shoe, but her heel was too large. So her mother gave her a knife +and said, “Cut a bit off thy heel; when thou art Queen thou wilt have +no more need to go on foot.” The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced +her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the King’s +son. He took her on his horse as his bride, and rode away with her, but +when they passed by the hazel-tree, two little pigeons sat on it and +cried, + +“Turn and peep, turn and peep, +There’s blood within the shoe +The shoe it is too small for her, +The true bride waits for you.” + + +He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running out of her +shoe, and how it had stained her white stocking. Then he turned his +horse and took the false bride home again. “This also is not the right +one,” said he, “have you no other daughter?” “No,” said the man, “There +is still a little stunted kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind +her, but she cannot possibly be the bride.” The King’s son said he was +to send her up to him; but the mother answered, “Oh, no, she is much +too dirty, she cannot show herself!” He absolutely insisted on it, and +Cinderella had to be called. She first washed her hands and face clean, +and then went and bowed down before the King’s son, who gave her the +golden shoe. Then she seated herself on a stool, drew her foot out of +the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted like a +glove. And when she rose up and the King’s son looked at her face he +recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with him and cried, +“That is the true bride!” The step-mother and the two sisters were +terrified and became pale with rage; he, however, took Cinderella on +his horse and rode away with her. As they passed by the hazel-tree, the +two white doves cried— + +“Turn and peep, turn and peep, +No blood is in the shoe, +The shoe is not too small for her, +The true bride rides with you,” + + +and when they had cried that, the two came flying down and placed +themselves on Cinderella’s shoulders, one on the right, the other on +the left, and remained sitting there. + +When the wedding with the King’s son had to be celebrated, the two +false sisters came and wanted to get into favour with Cinderella and +share her good fortune. When the betrothed couple went to church, the +elder was at the right side and the younger at the left, and the +pigeons pecked out one eye of each of them. Afterwards as they came +back, the elder was at the left, and the younger at the right, and then +the pigeons pecked out the other eye of each. And thus, for their +wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness as long as +they lived. + + + +22 The Riddle + +There was once a King’s son who was seized with a desire to travel +about the world, and took no one with him but a faithful servant. One +day he came to a great forest, and when darkness overtook him he could +find no shelter, and knew not where to pass the night. Then he saw a +girl who was going towards a small house, and when he came nearer, he +saw that the maiden was young and beautiful. He spoke to her, and said, +“Dear child, can I and my servant find shelter for the night in the +little house?” “Oh, yes,” said the girl in a sad voice, “that you +certainly can, but I do not advise you to venture it. Do not go in.” +“Why not?” asked the King’s son. The maiden sighed and said, “My +step-mother practises wicked arts; she is ill-disposed toward +strangers.” Then he saw very well that he had come to the house of a +witch, but as it was dark, and he could not go farther, and also was +not afraid, he entered. The old woman was sitting in an armchair by the +fire, and looked at the stranger with her red eyes. “Good evening,” +growled she, and pretended to be quite friendly. “Take a seat and rest +yourselves.” She blew up the fire on which she was cooking something in +a small pot. The daughter warned the two to be prudent, to eat nothing, +and drink nothing, for the old woman brewed evil drinks. They slept +quietly until early morning. When they were making ready for their +departure, and the King’s son was already seated on his horse, the old +woman said, “Stop a moment, I will first hand you a parting draught.” +Whilst she fetched it, the King’s son rode away, and the servant who +had to buckle his saddle tight, was the only one present when the +wicked witch came with the drink. “Take that to your master,” said she. +But at that instant the glass broke and the poison spirted on the +horse, and it was so strong that the animal immediately fell down dead. +The servant ran after his master and told him what had happened, but +would not leave his saddle behind him, and ran back to fetch it. When, +however, he came to the dead horse a raven was already sitting on it +devouring it. “Who knows whether we shall find anything better to-day?” +said the servant; so he killed the raven, and took it with him. And now +they journeyed onwards into the forest the whole day, but could not get +out of it. By nightfall they found an inn and entered it. The servant +gave the raven to the innkeeper to make ready for supper. They had, +however, stumbled on a den of murderers, and during the darkness twelve +of these came, intending to kill the strangers and rob them. Before +they set about this work, they sat down to supper, and the innkeeper +and the witch sat down with them, and together they ate a dish of soup +in which was cut up the flesh of the raven. Hardly, however, had they +swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, before they all fell down dead, for +the raven had communicated to them the poison from the horse-flesh. +There was no no one else left in the house but the innkeeper’s +daughter, who was honest, and had taken no part in their godless deeds. +She opened all doors to the stranger and showed him the heaped-up +treasures. But the King’s son said she might keep everything, he would +have none of it, and rode onwards with his servant. + +After they had traveled about for a long time, they came to a town in +which was a beautiful but proud princess, who had caused it to be +proclaimed that whosoever should set her a riddle which she could not +guess, that man should be her husband; but if she guessed it, his head +must be cut off. She had three days to guess it in, but was so clever +that she always found the answer to the riddle given her, before the +appointed time. Nine suitors had already perished in this manner, when +the King’s son arrived, and blinded by her great beauty, was willing to +stake his life for it. Then he went to her and laid his riddle before +her. “What is this?” said he, “One slew none, and yet slew twelve.” She +did not know what that was, she thought and thought, but she could not +find out, she opened her riddle-books, but it was not in them—in short, +her wisdom was at an end. As she did not know how to help herself, she +ordered her maid to creep into the lord’s sleeping-chamber, and listen +to his dreams, and thought that he would perhaps speak in his sleep and +discover the riddle. But the clever servant had placed himself in the +bed instead of his master, and when the maid came there, he tore off +from her the mantle in which she had wrapped herself, and chased her +out with rods. The second night the King’s daughter sent her +maid-in-waiting, who was to see if she could succeed better in +listening, but the servant took her mantle also away from her, and +hunted her out with rods. Now the master believed himself safe for the +third night, and lay down in his own bed. Then came the princess +herself, and she had put on a misty-grey mantle, and she seated herself +near him. And when she thought that he was asleep and dreaming, she +spoke to him, and hoped that he would answer in his sleep, as many do, +but he was awake, and understood and heard everything quite well. Then +she asked, “One slew none, what is that?” He replied, “A raven, which +ate of a dead and poisoned horse, and died of it.” She inquired +further, “And yet slew twelve, what is that?” He answered, “That means +twelve murderers, who ate the raven and died of it.” + +When she knew the answer to the riddle she wanted to steal away, but he +held her mantle so fast that she was forced to leave it behind her. +Next morning, the King’s daughter announced that she had guessed the +riddle, and sent for the twelve judges and expounded it before them. +But the youth begged for a hearing, and said, “She stole into my room +in the night and questioned me, otherwise she could not have discovered +it.” The judges said, “Bring us a proof of this.” Then were the three +mantles brought thither by the servant, and when the judges saw the +misty-grey one which the King’s daughter usually wore, they said, “Let +the mantle be embroidered with gold and silver, and then it will be +your wedding-mantle. + + + +23 The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage + +Once on a time a mouse, a bird, and a sausage became companions, kept +house together, lived well and happily with each other, and wonderfully +increased their possessions. The bird’s work was to fly every day into +the forest and bring back wood. The mouse had to carry water, light the +fire, and lay the table, but the sausage had to cook. + +He who is too well off is always longing for something new. One day, +therefore, the bird met with another bird, on the way, to whom it +related its excellent circumstances and boasted of them. The other +bird, however, called it a poor simpleton for his hard work, but said +that the two at home had good times. For when the mouse had made her +fire and carried her water, she went into her little room to rest until +they called her to lay the table. The sausage stayed by the pot, saw +that the food was cooking well, and, when it was nearly time for +dinner, it rolled itself once or twice through the broth or vegetables +and then they were buttered, salted, and ready. When the bird came home +and laid his burden down, they sat down to dinner, and after they had +had their meal, they slept their fill till next morning, and that was a +splendid life. + +Next day the bird, prompted by the other bird, would go no more into +the wood, saying that he had been servant long enough, and had been +made a fool of by them, and that they must change about for once, and +try to arrange it in another way. And, though the mouse and the sausage +also begged most earnestly, the bird would have his way, and said it +must be tried. They cast lots about it, and the lot fell on the sausage +who was to carry wood, the mouse became cook, and the bird was to fetch +water. + +What happened? The little sausage went out towards the wood, the little +bird lighted the fire, the mouse stayed by the pot and waited alone +until little sausage came home and brought wood for next day. But the +little sausage stayed so long on the road that they both feared +something was amiss, and the bird flew out a little way in the air to +meet it. Not far off, however, it met a dog on the road who had fallen +on the poor sausage as lawful booty, and had seized and swallowed it. +The bird charged the dog with an act of barefaced robbery, but it was +in vain to speak, for the dog said he had found forged letters on the +sausage, on which account its life was forfeited to him. + +The bird sadly took up the wood, flew home, and related what he had +seen and heard. They were much troubled, but agreed to do their best +and remain together. The bird therefore laid the cloth, and the mouse +made ready the food, and wanted to dress it, and to get into the pot as +the sausage used to do, and roll and creep amongst the vegetables to +mix them; but before she got into the midst of them she was stopped, +and lost her skin and hair and life in the attempt. + +When the bird came to carry up the dinner, no cook was there. In its +distress the bird threw the wood here and there, called and searched, +but no cook was to be found! Owing to his carelessness the wood caught +fire, so that a conflagration ensued, the bird hastened to fetch water, +and then the bucket dropped from his claws into the well, and he fell +down with it, and could not recover himself, but had to drown there. + + + +24 Mother Holle + +There was once a widow who had two daughters—one of whom was pretty and +industrious, whilst the other was ugly and idle. But she was much +fonder of the ugly and idle one, because she was her own daughter; and +the other, who was a step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and +be the Cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a +well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled. + +Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her blood, so +she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off; but it dropped out of +her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her +step-mother and told her of the mishap. But she scolded her sharply, +and was so merciless as to say, “Since you have let the shuttle fall +in, you must fetch it out again.” + +So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do; and in +the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the shuttle. +She lost her senses; and when she awoke and came to herself again, she +was in a lovely meadow where the sun was shining and many thousands of +flowers were growing. Along this meadow she went, and at last came to a +baker’s oven full of bread, and the bread cried out, “Oh, take me out! +take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long time!” So she +went up to it, and took out all the loaves one after another with the +bread-shovel. After that she went on till she came to a tree covered +with apples, which called out to her, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we +apples are all ripe!” So she shook the tree till the apples fell like +rain, and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had +gathered them into a heap, she went on her way. + +At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman peeped; +but she had such large teeth that the girl was frightened, and was +about to run away. + +But the old woman called out to her, “What are you afraid of, dear +child? Stay with me; if you will do all the work in the house properly, +you shall be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed +well, and shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly—for then there is +snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle. + +As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage and +agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the +satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously +that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a pleasant +life with her; never an angry word; and boiled or roast meat every day. + +She stayed some time with Mother Holle, and then she became sad. At +first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found at +length that it was home-sickness: although she was many thousand times +better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be there. At +last she said to the old woman, “I have a longing for home; and however +well off I am down here, I cannot stay any longer; I must go up again +to my own people.” Mother Holle said, “I am pleased that you long for +your home again, and as you have served me so truly, I myself will take +you up again.” Thereupon she took her by the hand, and led her to a +large door. The door was opened, and just as the maiden was standing +beneath the doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the +gold remained sticking to her, so that she was completely covered over +with it. + +“You shall have that because you have been so industrious,” said Mother +Holle, and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle which she had +let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed, and the maiden found +herself up above upon the earth, not far from her mother’s house. + +And as she went into the yard the cock was standing by the well-side, +and cried— + +“Cock-a-doodle-doo! +Your golden girl’s come back to you!” + + +So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with +gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister. + +The girl told all that had happened to her; and as soon as the mother +heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very anxious to +obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter. She had to +seat herself by the well and spin; and in order that her shuttle might +be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn bush and pricked +her finger. Then she threw her shuttle into the well, and jumped in +after it. + +She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked along the +very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again cried, “Oh, +take me out! take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long +time!” But the lazy thing answered, “As if I had any wish to make +myself dirty?” and on she went. Soon she came to the apple-tree, which +cried, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples are all ripe!” But she +answered, “I like that! one of you might fall on my head,” and so went +on. + +When she came to Mother Holle’s house she was not afraid, for she had +already heard of her big teeth, and she hired herself to her +immediately. + +The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed Mother +Holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking of all the +gold that she would give her. But on the second day she began to be +lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then she would not get up +in the morning at all. Neither did she make Mother Holle’s bed as she +ought, and did not shake it so as to make the feathers fly up. Mother +Holle was soon tired of this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy +girl was willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden rain +would come. Mother Holle led her also to the great door; but while she +was standing beneath it, instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch +was emptied over her. “That is the reward for your service,” said +Mother Holle, and shut the door. + +So the lazy girl went home; but she was quite covered with pitch, and +the cock by the well-side, as soon as he saw her, cried out— + +“Cock-a-doodle-doo! +Your pitchy girl’s come back to you!” + + +But the pitch stuck fast to her, and could not be got off as long as +she lived. + + + +25 The Seven Ravens + +There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had no daughter, +however much he wished for one. At length his wife again gave him hope +of a child, and when it came into the world it was a girl. The joy was +great, but the child was sickly and small, and had to be privately +baptized on account of its weakness. The father sent one of the boys in +haste to the spring to fetch water for the baptism. The other six went +with him, and as each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug +fell into the well. There they stood and did not know what to do, and +none of them dared to go home. As they still did not return, the father +grew impatient, and said, “They have certainly forgotten it for some +game, the wicked boys!” He became afraid that the girl would have to +die without being baptized, and in his anger cried, “I wish the boys +were all turned into ravens.” Hardly was the word spoken before he +heard a whirring of wings over his head in the air, looked up and saw +seven coal-black ravens flying away. The parents could not recall the +curse, and however sad they were at the loss of their seven sons, they +still to some extent comforted themselves with their dear little +daughter, who soon grew strong and every day became more beautiful. For +a long time she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents +were careful not to mention them before her, but one day she +accidentally heard some people saying of herself, “that the girl was +certainly beautiful, but that in reality she was to blame for the +misfortune which had befallen her seven brothers.” Then she was much +troubled, and went to her father and mother and asked if it was true +that she had had brothers, and what had become of them? The parents now +dared keep the secret no longer, but said that what had befallen her +brothers was the will of Heaven, and that her birth had only been the +innocent cause. But the maiden took it to heart daily, and thought she +must deliver her brothers. She had no rest or peace until she set out +secretly, and went forth into the wide world to trace out her brothers +and set them free, let it cost what it might. She took nothing with her +but a little ring belonging to her parents as a keepsake, a loaf of +bread against hunger, a little pitcher of water against thirst, and a +little chair as a provision against weariness. + +And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of the +world. Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and +devoured little children. Hastily she ran away, and ran to the moon, +but it was far too cold, and also awful and malicious, and when it saw +the child, it said, “I smell, I smell the flesh of men.” On this she +ran swiftly away, and came to the stars, which were kind and good to +her, and each of them sat on its own particular little chair. But the +morning star arose, and gave her the drumstick of a chicken, and said, +“If you thou hast not that drumstick thou canst not open the Glass +mountain, and in the Glass mountain are thy brothers.” + +The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a cloth, and +went onwards again until she came to the Glass mountain. The door was +shut, and she thought she would take out the drumstick; but when she +undid the cloth, it was empty, and she had lost the good star’s +present. What was she now to do? She wished to rescue her brothers, and +had no key to the Glass mountain. The good sister took a knife, cut off +one of her little fingers, put it in the door, and succeeded in opening +it. When she had gone inside, a little dwarf came to meet her, who +said, “My child, what are you looking for?” “I am looking for my +brothers, the seven ravens,” she replied. The dwarf said, “The lord +ravens are not at home, but if you will wait here until they come, step +in.” Thereupon the little dwarf carried the ravens’ dinner in, on seven +little plates, and in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a +morsel from each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip, but +in the last little glass she dropped the ring which she had brought +away with her. + +Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing through the air, +and then the little dwarf said, “Now the lord ravens are flying home.” +Then they came, and wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their +little plates and glasses. Then said one after the other, “Who has +eaten something from my plate? Who has drunk out of my little glass? It +was a human mouth.” And when the seventh came to the bottom of the +glass, the ring rolled against his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw +that it was a ring belonging to his father and mother, and said, “God +grant that our sister may be here, and then we shall be free.” When the +maiden, who was standing behind the door watching, heard that wish, she +came forth, and on this all the ravens were restored to their human +form again. And they embraced and kissed each other, and went joyfully +home. + + + +26 Little Red-Cap + +Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by every +one who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there +was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave +her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would +never wear anything else; so she was always called “Little Red-Cap.” + +One day her mother said to her, “Come, Little Red-Cap, here is a piece +of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill +and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and +when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the +path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother +will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don’t forget to say, +‘Good-morning,’ and don’t peep into every corner before you do it.” + +“I will take great care,” said Little Red-Cap to her mother, and gave +her hand on it. + +The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, +and just as Little Red-Cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-Cap +did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid +of him. + +“Good-day, Little Red-Cap,” said he. + +“Thank you kindly, wolf.” + +“Whither away so early, Little Red-Cap?” + +“To my grandmother’s.” + +“What have you got in your apron?” + +“Cake and wine; yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is +to have something good, to make her stronger.” + +“Where does your grandmother live, Little Red-Cap?” + +“A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands +under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below; you +surely must know it,” replied Little Red-Cap. + +The wolf thought to himself, “What a tender young creature! what a nice +plump mouthful—she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act +craftily, so as to catch both.” So he walked for a short time by the +side of Little Red-Cap, and then he said, “See Little Red-Cap, how +pretty the flowers are about here—why do you not look round? I believe, +too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing; you +walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything +else out here in the wood is merry.” + +Little Red-Cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing +here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers growing +everywhere, she thought, “Suppose I take grandmother a fresh nosegay; +that would please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still +get there in good time;” and so she ran from the path into the wood to +look for flowers. And whenever she had picked one, she fancied that she +saw a still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got +deeper and deeper into the wood. + +Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and knocked +at the door. + +“Who is there?” + +“Little Red-Cap,” replied the wolf. “She is bringing cake and wine; +open the door.” + +“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and +cannot get up.” + +The wolf lifted the latch, the door flew open, and without saying a +word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then +he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed +and drew the curtains. + +Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and +when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she +remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her. + +She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she +went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to +herself, “Oh dear! how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like +being with grandmother so much.” She called out, “Good morning,” but +received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. +There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and +looking very strange. + +“Oh! grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have!” + +“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply. + +“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said. + +“The better to see you with, my dear.” + +“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!” + +“The better to hug you with.” + +“Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!” + +“The better to eat you with!” + +And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of +bed and swallowed up Red-Cap. + +When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, +fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing +the house, and thought to himself, “How the old woman is snoring! I +must just see if she wants anything.” So he went into the room, and +when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. “Do I +find thee here, thou old sinner!” said he. “I have long sought thee!” +Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the +wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be +saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to +cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips, +he saw the little Red-Cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and +the little girl sprang out, crying, “Ah, how frightened I have been! +How dark it was inside the wolf;” and after that the aged grandmother +came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red-Cap, however, +quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s body, +and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy +that he fell down at once, and fell dead. + +Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s skin +and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine +which Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to herself, +“As long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into +the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.” + + * * * * * * * + +It is also related that once when Red-Cap was again taking cakes to the +old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her +from the path. Red-Cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight +forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the wolf, +and that he had said “good-morning” to her, but with such a wicked look +in his eyes, that if they had not been on the public road she was +certain he would have eaten her up. “Well,” said the grandmother, “we +will shut the door, that he may not come in.” Soon afterwards the wolf +knocked, and cried, “Open the door, grandmother, I am little Red-Cap, +and am fetching you some cakes.” But they did not speak, or open the +door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at +last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until Red-Cap went home in +the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the +darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In front of +the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the child, “Take the +pail, Red-Cap; I made some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in +which I boiled them to the trough.” Red-Cap carried until the great +trough was quite full. Then the smell of the sausages reached the wolf, +and he sniffed and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck so +far that he could no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and +slipped down from the roof straight into the great trough, and was +drowned. But Red-Cap went joyously home, and never did anything to harm +any one. + + + +27 The Bremen Town-Musicians + +A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the +mill indefatigably for many a long year; but his strength was going, +and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began +to consider how he might best save his keep; but the donkey, seeing +that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to +Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely be town-musician.” When he +had walked some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping +like one who had run till he was tired. “What are you gasping so for, +you big fellow?” asked the donkey. + +“Ah,” replied the hound, “as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no +longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to flight; but +now how am I to earn my bread?” + +“I tell you what,” said the donkey, “I am going to Bremen, and shall be +town-musician there; go with me and engage yourself also as a musician. +I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.” + +The hound agreed, and on they went. + +Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like +three rainy days! “Now then, old shaver, what has gone askew with you?” +asked the donkey. + +“Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat. +“Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I +prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice, +my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is +scarce. Where am I to go?” + +“Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a +town-musician.” + +The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three +fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting upon the +gate, crowing with all his might. “Your crow goes through and through +one,” said the donkey. “What is the matter?” + +“I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on which +Our Lady washes the Christ-child’s little shirts, and wants to dry +them,” said the cock; “but guests are coming for Sunday, so the +housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that she intends to eat me +in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off. +Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can.” + +“Ah, but red-comb,” said the donkey, “you had better come away with us. +We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death +everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it +must have some quality!” + +The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could +not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening +they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey +and the hound laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the +cock settled themselves in the branches; but the cock flew right to the +top, where he was most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on +all four sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark +burning; so he called out to his companions that there must be a house +not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, “If so, we had better +get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad.” The hound thought that +a few bones with some meat on would do him good too! + +So they made their way to the place where the light was, and soon saw +it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to a well-lighted +robber’s house. The donkey, as the biggest, went to the window and +looked in. + +“What do you see, my grey-horse?” asked the cock. “What do I see?” +answered the donkey; “a table covered with good things to eat and +drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.” “That would be +the sort of thing for us,” said the cock. “Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we +were there!” said the donkey. + +Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage to drive +away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan. The donkey was to +place himself with his fore-feet upon the window-ledge, the hound was +to jump on the donkey’s back, the cat was to climb upon the dog, and +lastly the cock was to fly up and perch upon the head of the cat. + +When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform their +music together: the donkey brayed, the hound barked, the cat mewed, and +the cock crowed; then they burst through the window into the room, so +that the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers sprang up, +thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had come in, and fled in a +great fright out into the forest. The four companions now sat down at +the table, well content with what was left, and ate as if they were +going to fast for a month. + +As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light, and +each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his nature and to +what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the +yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near the warm +ashes, and the cock perched himself upon a beam of the roof; and being +tired from their long walk, they soon went to sleep. + +When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that the light +was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared quiet, the +captain said, “We ought not to have let ourselves be frightened out of +our wits;” and ordered one of them to go and examine the house. + +The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light a +candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for live +coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But the cat did not +understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He +was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door, but the dog, who +lay there sprang up and bit his leg; and as he ran across the yard by +the straw-heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. +The cock, too, who had been awakened by the noise, and had become +lively, cried down from the beam, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” + +Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and said, +“Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who spat on me and +scratched my face with her long claws; and by the door stands a man +with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg; and in the yard there lies a +black monster, who beat me with a wooden club; and above, upon the +roof, sits the judge, who called out, ‘Bring the rogue here to me!’ so +I got away as well as I could.” + +After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the house again; but +it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care +to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who last told this story is +still warm. + + + +28 The Singing Bone + +In a certain country there was once great lamentation over a wild boar +that laid waste the farmer’s fields, killed the cattle, and ripped up +people’s bodies with his tusks. The King promised a large reward to +anyone who would free the land from this plague; but the beast was so +big and strong that no one dared to go near the forest in which it +lived. At last the King gave notice that whosoever should capture or +kill the wild boar should have his only daughter to wife. + +Now there lived in the country two brothers, sons of a poor man, who +declared themselves willing to undertake the hazardous enterprise; the +elder, who was crafty and shrewd, out of pride; the younger, who was +innocent and simple, from a kind heart. The King said, “In order that +you may be the more sure of finding the beast, you must go into the +forest from opposite sides.” So the elder went in on the west side, and +the younger on the east. + +When the younger had gone a short way, a little man stepped up to him. +He held in his hand a black spear and said, “I give you this spear +because your heart is pure and good; with this you can boldly attack +the wild boar, and it will do you no harm.” + +He thanked the little man, shouldered the spear, and went on +fearlessly. + +Before long he saw the beast, which rushed at him; but he held the +spear towards it, and in its blind fury it ran so swiftly against it +that its heart was cloven in twain. Then he took the monster on his +back and went homewards with it to the King. + +As he came out at the other side of the wood, there stood at the +entrance a house where people were making merry with wine and dancing. +His elder brother had gone in here, and, thinking that after all the +boar would not run away from him, was going to drink until he felt +brave. But when he saw his young brother coming out of the wood laden +with his booty, his envious, evil heart gave him no peace. He called +out to him, “Come in, dear brother, rest and refresh yourself with a +cup of wine.” + +The youth, who suspected no evil, went in and told him about the good +little man who had given him the spear wherewith he had slain the boar. + +The elder brother kept him there until the evening, and then they went +away together, and when in the darkness they came to a bridge over a +brook, the elder brother let the other go first; and when he was +half-way across he gave him such a blow from behind that he fell down +dead. He buried him beneath the bridge, took the boar, and carried it +to the King, pretending that he had killed it; whereupon he obtained +the King’s daughter in marriage. And when his younger brother did not +come back he said, “The boar must have killed him,” and every one +believed it. + +But as nothing remains hidden from God, so this black deed also was to +come to light. + +Years afterwards a shepherd was driving his herd across the bridge, and +saw lying in the sand beneath, a snow-white little bone. He thought +that it would make a good mouth-piece, so he clambered down, picked it +up, and cut out of it a mouth-piece for his horn. But when he blew +through it for the first time, to his great astonishment, the bone +began of its own accord to sing: + +“Ah, friend, thou blowest upon my bone! +Long have I lain beside the water; +My brother slew me for the boar, +And took for his wife the King’s young daughter.” + + +“What a wonderful horn!” said the shepherd; “it sings by itself; I must +take it to my lord the King.” And when he came with it to the King the +horn again began to sing its little song. The King understood it all, +and caused the ground below the bridge to be dug up, and then the whole +skeleton of the murdered man came to light. The wicked brother could +not deny the deed, and was sewn up in a sack and drowned. But the bones +of the murdered man were laid to rest in a beautiful tomb in the +churchyard. + + + +29 The Devil With the Three Golden Hairs + +There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son; and as he +came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted that in his +fourteenth year he would have the King’s daughter for his wife. It +happened that soon afterwards the King came into the village, and no +one knew that he was the King, and when he asked the people what news +there was, they answered, “A child has just been born with a caul on; +whatever any one so born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, +too, that in his fourteenth year he will have the King’s daughter for +his wife.” + +The King, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy, went +to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, “You poor people, +let me have your child, and I will take care of it.” At first they +refused, but when the stranger offered them a large amount of gold for +it, and they thought, “It is a luck-child, and everything must turn out +well for it,” they at last consented, and gave him the child. + +The King put it in a box and rode away with it until he came to a deep +piece of water; then he threw the box into it and thought, “I have +freed my daughter from her unlooked-for suitor.” + +The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not a drop +of water made its way into it. And it floated to within two miles of +the King’s chief city, where there was a mill, and it came to a +stand-still at the mill-dam. A miller’s boy, who by good luck was +standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook, thinking that +he had found a great treasure, but when he opened it there lay a pretty +boy inside, quite fresh and lively. He took him to the miller and his +wife, and as they had no children they were glad, and said, “God has +given him to us.” They took great care of the foundling, and he grew up +in all goodness. + +It happened that once in a storm, the King went into the mill, and he +asked the mill-folk if the tall youth was their son. “No,” answered +they, “he’s a foundling. Fourteen years ago he floated down to the +mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled him out of the water.” + +Then the King knew that it was none other than the luck-child which he +had thrown into the water, and he said, “My good people, could not the +youth take a letter to the Queen; I will give him two gold pieces as a +reward?” “Just as the King commands,” answered they, and they told the +boy to hold himself in readiness. Then the King wrote a letter to the +Queen, wherein he said, “As soon as the boy arrives with this letter, +let him be killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home.” + +The boy set out with this letter; but he lost his way, and in the +evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small light; +he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went in, an old woman +was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started when she saw the boy, +and said, “Whence do you come, and whither are you going?” “I come from +the mill,” he answered, “and wish to go to the Queen, to whom I am +taking a letter; but as I have lost my way in the forest I should like +to stay here over night.” “You poor boy,” said the woman, “you have +come into a den of thieves, and when they come home they will kill +you.” “Let them come,” said the boy, “I am not afraid; but I am so +tired that I cannot go any farther:” and he stretched himself upon a +bench and fell asleep. + +Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what strange boy +was lying there? “Ah,” said the old woman, “it is an innocent child who +has lost himself in the forest, and out of pity I have let him come in; +he has to take a letter to the Queen.” The robbers opened the letter +and read it, and in it was written that the boy as soon as he arrived +should be put to death. Then the hard-hearted robbers felt pity, and +their leader tore up the letter and wrote another, saying, that as soon +as the boy came, he should be married at once to the King’s daughter. +Then they let him lie quietly on the bench until the next morning, and +when he awoke they gave him the letter, and showed him the right way. + +And the Queen, when she had received the letter and read it, did as was +written in it, and had a splendid wedding-feast prepared, and the +King’s daughter was married to the luck-child, and as the youth was +handsome and agreeable she lived with him in joy and contentment. + +After some time the King returned to his palace and saw that the +prophecy was fulfilled, and the luck-child married to his daughter. +“How has that come to pass?” said he; “I gave quite another order in my +letter.” + +So the Queen gave him the letter, and said that he might see for +himself what was written in it. The King read the letter and saw quite +well that it had been exchanged for the other. He asked the youth what +had become of the letter entrusted to him, and why he had brought +another instead of it. “I know nothing about it,” answered he; “it must +have been changed in the night, when I slept in the forest.” The King +said in a passion, “You shall not have everything quite so much your +own way; whosoever marries my daughter must fetch me from hell three +golden hairs from the head of the devil; bring me what I want, and you +shall keep my daughter.” In this way the King hoped to be rid of him +for ever. But the luck-child answered, “I will fetch the golden hairs, +I am not afraid of the Devil;” thereupon he took leave of them and +began his journey. + +The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the gates asked +him what his trade was, and what he knew. “I know everything,” answered +the luck-child. “Then you can do us a favour,” said the watchman, “if +you will tell us why our market-fountain, which once flowed with wine +has become dry, and no longer gives even water?” “That you shall know,” +answered he; “only wait until I come back.” + +Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also the +gatekeeper asked him what was his trade, and what he knew. “I know +everything,” answered he. “Then you can do us a favour and tell us why +a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now does not even put +forth leaves?” “You shall know that,” answered he; “only wait until I +come back.” + +Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must go. The +ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. “I know +everything,” answered he. “Then you can do me a favour,” said the +ferryman, “and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards and +forwards, and am never set free?” “You shall know that,” answered he; +“only wait until I come back.” + +When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to Hell. It was +black and sooty within, and the Devil was not at home, but his +grandmother was sitting in a large arm-chair. “What do you want?” said +she to him, but she did not look so very wicked. “I should like to have +three golden hairs from the devil’s head,” answered he, “else I cannot +keep my wife.” “That is a good deal to ask for,” said she; “if the +devil comes home and finds you, it will cost you your life; but as I +pity you, I will see if I cannot help you.” + +She changed him into an ant and said, “Creep into the folds of my +dress, you will be safe there.” “Yes,” answered he, “so far, so good; +but there are three things besides that I want to know: why a fountain +which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no longer gives even +water; why a tree which once bore golden apples does not even put forth +leaves; and why a ferry-man must always be going backwards and +forwards, and is never set free?” + +“Those are difficult questions,” answered she, “but only be silent and +quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull out the +three golden hairs.” + +As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner had he +entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. “I smell man’s +flesh,” said he; “all is not right here.” Then he pried into every +corner, and searched, but could not find anything. His grandmother +scolded him. “It has just been swept,” said she, “and everything put in +order, and now you are upsetting it again; you have always got man’s +flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your supper.” + +When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in his +grandmother’s lap, and before long he was fast asleep, snoring and +breathing heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden hair, +pulled it out, and laid it down near her. “Oh!” cried the devil, “what +are you doing?” “I have had a bad dream,” answered the grandmother, “so +I seized hold of your hair.” “What did you dream then?” said the devil. +“I dreamed that a fountain in a market-place from which wine once +flowed was dried up, and not even water would flow out of it; what is +the cause of it?” “Oh, ho! if they did but know it,” answered the +devil; “there is a toad sitting under a stone in the well; if they +killed it, the wine would flow again.” + +He went to sleep again and snored until the windows shook. Then she +pulled the second hair out. “Ha! what are you doing?” cried the devil +angrily. “Do not take it ill,” said she, “I did it in a dream.” “What +have you dreamt this time?” asked he. “I dreamt that in a certain +kingdom there stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples, +but now would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason?” +“Oh! if they did but know,” answered the devil. “A mouse is gnawing at +the root; if they killed this they would have golden apples again, but +if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither altogether. But leave me +alone with your dreams: if you disturb me in my sleep again you will +get a box on the ear.” + +The grandmother spoke gently to him until he fell asleep again and +snored. Then she took hold of the third golden hair and pulled it out. +The devil jumped up, roared out, and would have treated her ill if she +had not quieted him once more and said, “Who can help bad dreams?” +“What was the dream, then?” asked he, and was quite curious. “I dreamt +of a ferry-man who complained that he must always ferry from one side +to the other, and was never released. What is the cause of it?” “Ah! +the fool,” answered the devil; “when any one comes and wants to go +across he must put the oar in his hand, and the other man will have to +ferry and he will be free.” As the grandmother had plucked out the +three golden hairs, and the three questions were answered, she let the +old serpent alone, and he slept until daybreak. + +When the devil had gone out again the old woman took the ant out of the +folds of her dress, and gave the luck-child his human shape again. +“There are the three golden hairs for you,” said she. “What the Devil +said to your three questions, I suppose you heard?” “Yes,” answered he, +“I heard, and will take care to remember.” “You have what you want,” +said she, “and now you can go your way.” He thanked the old woman for +helping him in his need, and left hell well content that everything had +turned out so fortunately. + +When he came to the ferry-man he was expected to give the promised +answer. “Ferry me across first,” said the luck-child, “and then I will +tell you how you can be set free,” and when he reached the opposite +shore he gave him the devil’s advice: “Next time any one comes, who +wants to be ferried over, just put the oar in his hand.” + +He went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful tree, and +there too the watchman wanted an answer. So he told him what he had +heard from the devil: “Kill the mouse which is gnawing at its root, and +it will again bear golden apples.” Then the watchman thanked him, and +gave him as a reward two asses laden with gold, which followed him. + +At last he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the watchman +what the devil had said: “A toad is in the well beneath a stone; you +must find it and kill it, and the well will again give wine in plenty.” +The watchman thanked him, and also gave him two asses laden with gold. + +At last the luck-child got home to his wife, who was heartily glad to +see him again, and to hear how well he had prospered in everything. To +the King he took what he had asked for, the devil’s three golden hairs, +and when the King saw the four asses laden with gold he was quite +content, and said, “Now all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can +keep my daughter. But tell me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold +come from? this is tremendous wealth!” “I was rowed across a river,” +answered he, “and got it there; it lies on the shore instead of sand.” +“Can I too fetch some of it?” said the King; and he was quite eager +about it. “As much as you like,” answered he. “There is a ferry-man on +the river; let him ferry you over, and you can fill your sacks on the +other side.” The greedy King set out in all haste, and when he came to +the river he beckoned to the ferry-man to put him across. The ferry-man +came and bade him get in, and when they got to the other shore he put +the oar in his hand and sprang out. But from this time forth the King +had to ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying +still? If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from him. + + + +30 The Louse and the Flea + +A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer in an +egg-shell. Then the little louse fell in and burnt herself. On this the +little flea began to scream loudly. Then said the little room-door, +“Little flea, why art thou screaming?” “Because the louse has burnt +herself.” + +Then the little door began to creak. On this a little broom in the +corner said, “Why art thou creaking, little door?” “Have I not reason +to creak?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping.” + + +So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart +passed by and said, “Why art thou sweeping, little broom?” “Have I not +reason to sweep?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping, +The little door is creaking.” + + +So the little cart said, “Then I will run,” and began to run wildly. +Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, “Why art thou running so, +little cart?” “Have I not reason to run?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping, +The little door is creaking, +The little broom is sweeping.” + + +The ash-heap said, “Then I will burn furiously,” and began to burn in +clear flames. A little tree stood near the ash-heap and said, +“Ash-heap, why art thou burning?” “Have I not reason to burn?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping, +The little door is creaking, +The little broom is sweeping, +The little cart is running.” + + +The little tree said, “Then I will shake myself,” and began to shake +herself so that all her leaves fell off; a girl who came up with her +water-pitcher saw that, and said, “Little tree, why art thou shaking +thyself?” “Have I not reason to shake myself?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping, +The little door is creaking, +The little broom is sweeping, +The little cart is running, +The little ash-heap is burning.” + + +On this the girl said, “Then I will break my little water-pitcher,” and +she broke her little water-pitcher. Then said the little spring from +which ran the water, “Girl, why art thou breaking thy water-jug?” “Have +I not reason to break my water-jug?” + +“The little louse has burnt herself, +The little flea is weeping, +The little door is creaking, +The little broom is sweeping, +The little cart is running, +The little ash-heap is burning, +The little tree is shaking itself.” + + +“Oh, ho!” said the spring, “then I will begin to flow,” and began to +flow violently. And in the water everything was drowned, the girl, the +little tree, the little ash-heap, the little cart, the broom, the +little door, the little flea, the little louse, all together. + + + +31 The Girl Without Hands + +A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty, and had +nothing left but his mill and a large apple-tree behind it. Once when +he had gone into the forest to fetch wood, an old man stepped up to him +whom he had never seen before, and said, “Why dost thou plague thyself +with cutting wood, I will make thee rich, if thou wilt promise me what +is standing behind thy mill?” “What can that be but my apple-tree?” +thought the miller, and said, “Yes,” and gave a written promise to the +stranger. He, however, laughed mockingly and said, “When three years +have passed, I will come and carry away what belongs to me,” and then +he went. When the miller got home, his wife came to meet him and said, +“Tell me, miller, from whence comes this sudden wealth into our house? +All at once every box and chest was filled; no one brought it in, and I +know not how it happened.” He answered, “It comes from a stranger who +met me in the forest, and promised me great treasure. I, in return, +have promised him what stands behind the mill; we can very well give +him the big apple-tree for it.” “Ah, husband,” said the terrified wife, +“that must have been the devil! He did not mean the apple-tree, but our +daughter, who was standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.” + +The miller’s daughter was a beautiful, pious girl, and lived through +the three years in the fear of God and without sin. When therefore the +time was over, and the day came when the Evil-one was to fetch her, she +washed herself clean, and made a circle round herself with chalk. The +devil appeared quite early, but he could not come near to her. Angrily, +he said to the miller, “Take all water away from her, that she may no +longer be able to wash herself, for otherwise I have no power over +her.” The miller was afraid, and did so. The next morning the devil +came again, but she had wept on her hands, and they were quite clean. +Again he could not get near her, and furiously said to the miller, “Cut +her hands off, or else I cannot get the better of her.” The miller was +shocked and answered, “How could I cut off my own child’s hands?” Then +the Evil-one threatened him and said, “If thou dost not do it thou art +mine, and I will take thee thyself.” The father became alarmed, and +promised to obey him. So he went to the girl and said, “My child, if I +do not cut off both thine hands, the devil will carry me away, and in +my terror I have promised to do it. Help me in my need, and forgive me +the harm I do thee.” She replied, “Dear father, do with me what you +will, I am your child.” Thereupon she laid down both her hands, and let +them be cut off. The devil came for the third time, but she had wept so +long and so much on the stumps, that after all they were quite clean. +Then he had to give in, and had lost all right over her. + +The miller said to her, “I have by means of thee received such great +wealth that I will keep thee most delicately as long as thou livest.” +But she replied, “Here I cannot stay, I will go forth, compassionate +people will give me as much as I require.” Thereupon she caused her +maimed arms to be bound to her back, and by sunrise she set out on her +way, and walked the whole day until night fell. Then she came to a +royal garden, and by the shimmering of the moon she saw that trees +covered with beautiful fruits grew in it, but she could not enter, for +there was much water round about it. And as she had walked the whole +day and not eaten one mouthful, and hunger tormented her, she thought, +“Ah, if I were but inside, that I might eat of the fruit, else must I +die of hunger!” Then she knelt down, called on God the Lord, and +prayed. And suddenly an angel came towards her, who made a dam in the +water, so that the moat became dry and she could walk through it. And +now she went into the garden and the angel went with her. She saw a +tree covered with beautiful pears, but they were all counted. Then she +went to them, and to still her hunger, ate one with her mouth from the +tree, but no more. The gardener was watching; but as the angel was +standing by, he was afraid and thought the maiden was a spirit, and was +silent, neither did he dare to cry out, or to speak to the spirit. When +she had eaten the pear, she was satisfied, and went and concealed +herself among the bushes. The King to whom the garden belonged, came +down to it next morning, and counted, and saw that one of the pears was +missing, and asked the gardener what had become of it, as it was not +lying beneath the tree, but was gone. Then answered the gardener, “Last +night, a spirit came in, who had no hands, and ate off one of the pears +with its mouth.” The King said, “How did the spirit get over the water, +and where did it go after it had eaten the pear?” The gardener +answered, “Some one came in a snow-white garment from heaven who made a +dam, and kept back the water, that the spirit might walk through the +moat. And as it must have been an angel, I was afraid, and asked no +questions, and did not cry out. When the spirit had eaten the pear, it +went back again.” The King said, “If it be as thou sayest, I will watch +with thee to-night.” + +When it grew dark the King came into the garden and brought a priest +with him, who was to speak to the spirit. All three seated themselves +beneath the tree and watched. At midnight the maiden came creeping out +of the thicket, went to the tree, and again ate one pear off it with +her mouth, and beside her stood the angel in white garments. Then the +priest went out to them and said, “Comest thou from heaven or from +earth? Art thou a spirit, or a human being?” She replied, “I am no +spirit, but an unhappy mortal deserted by all but God.” The King said, +“If thou art forsaken by all the world, yet will I not forsake thee.” +He took her with him into his royal palace, and as she was so beautiful +and good, he loved her with all his heart, had silver hands made for +her, and took her to wife. + +After a year the King had to take the field, so he commended his young +Queen to the care of his mother and said, “If she is brought to bed +take care of her, nurse her well, and tell me of it at once in a +letter.” Then she gave birth to a fine boy. So the old mother made +haste to write and announce the joyful news to him. But the messenger +rested by a brook on the way, and as he was fatigued by the great +distance, he fell asleep. Then came the Devil, who was always seeking +to injure the good Queen, and exchanged the letter for another, in +which was written that the Queen had brought a monster into the world. +When the King read the letter he was shocked and much troubled, but he +wrote in answer that they were to take great care of the Queen and +nurse her well until his arrival. The messenger went back with the +letter, but rested at the same place and again fell asleep. Then came +the Devil once more, and put a different letter in his pocket, in which +it was written that they were to put the Queen and her child to death. +The old mother was terribly shocked when she received the letter, and +could not believe it. She wrote back again to the King, but received no +other answer, because each time the Devil substituted a false letter, +and in the last letter it was also written that she was to preserve the +Queen’s tongue and eyes as a token that she had obeyed. + +But the old mother wept to think such innocent blood was to be shed, +and had a hind brought by night and cut out her tongue and eyes, and +kept them. Then said she to the Queen, “I cannot have thee killed as +the King commands, but here thou mayst stay no longer. Go forth into +the wide world with thy child, and never come here again.” The poor +woman tied her child on her back, and went away with eyes full of +tears. She came into a great wild forest, and then she fell on her +knees and prayed to God, and the angel of the Lord appeared to her and +led her to a little house on which was a sign with the words, “Here all +dwell free.” A snow-white maiden came out of the little house and said, +“Welcome, Lady Queen,” and conducted her inside. Then they unbound the +little boy from her back, and held him to her breast that he might +feed, and laid him in a beautifully-made little bed. Then said the poor +woman, “From whence knowest thou that I was a queen?” The white maiden +answered, “I am an angel sent by God, to watch over thee and thy +child.” The Queen stayed seven years in the little house, and was well +cared for, and by God’s grace, because of her piety, her hands which +had been cut off, grew once more. + +At last the King came home again from the war, and his first wish was +to see his wife and the child. Then his aged mother began to weep and +said, “Thou wicked man, why didst thou write to me that I was to take +those two innocent lives?” and she showed him the two letters which the +Evil-one had forged, and then continued, “I did as thou badest me,” and +she showed the tokens, the tongue and eyes. Then the King began to weep +for his poor wife and his little son so much more bitterly than she was +doing, that the aged mother had compassion on him and said, “Be at +peace, she still lives; I secretly caused a hind to be killed, and took +these tokens from it; but I bound the child to thy wife’s back and bade +her go forth into the wide world, and made her promise never to come +back here again, because thou wert so angry with her.” Then spoke the +King, “I will go as far as the sky is blue, and will neither eat nor +drink until I have found again my dear wife and my child, if in the +meantime they have not been killed, or died of hunger.” + +Thereupon the King travelled about for seven long years, and sought her +in every cleft of the rocks and in every cave, but he found her not, +and thought she had died of want. During the whole of this time he +neither ate nor drank, but God supported him. At length he came into a +great forest, and found therein the little house whose sign was, “Here +all dwell free.” Then forth came the white maiden, took him by the +hand, led him in, and said, “Welcome, Lord King,” and asked him from +whence he came. He answered, “Soon shall I have travelled about for the +space of seven years, and I seek my wife and her child, but cannot find +them.” The angel offered him meat and drink, but he did not take +anything, and only wished to rest a little. Then he lay down to sleep, +and put a handkerchief over his face. + +Thereupon the angel went into the chamber where the Queen sat with her +son, whom she usually called “Sorrowful,” and said to her, “Go out with +thy child, thy husband hath come.” So she went to the place where he +lay, and the handkerchief fell from his face. Then said she, +“Sorrowful, pick up thy father’s handkerchief, and cover his face +again.” The child picked it up, and put it over his face again. The +King in his sleep heard what passed, and had pleasure in letting the +handkerchief fall once more. But the child grew impatient, and said, +“Dear mother, how can I cover my father’s face when I have no father in +this world? I have learnt to say the prayer, ‘Our Father, which art in +Heaven,’ thou hast told me that my father was in Heaven, and was the +good God, and how can I know a wild man like this? He is not my +father.” When the King heard that, he got up, and asked who they were. +Then said she, “I am thy wife, and that is thy son, Sorrowful.” And he +saw her living hands, and said, “My wife had silver hands.” She +answered, “The good God has caused my natural hands to grow again;” and +the angel went into the inner room, and brought the silver hands, and +showed them to him. Hereupon he knew for a certainty that it was his +dear wife and his dear child, and he kissed them, and was glad, and +said, “A heavy stone has fallen from off mine heart.” Then the angel of +God gave them one meal with her, and after that they went home to the +King’s aged mother. There were great rejoicings everywhere, and the +King and Queen were married again, and lived contentedly to their happy +end. + + + +32 Clever Hans + +The mother of Hans said, “Whither away, Hans?” Hans answered, “To +Grethel.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, I’ll behave well. Good-bye, +mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” Hans comes to Grethel, “Good day, Grethel.” +“Good day, Hans. What dost thou bring that is good?” “I bring nothing, +I want to have something given me.” Grethel presents Hans with a +needle. Hans says, “Good-bye, Grethel.” “Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and follows the cart +home. “Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou +been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “Took nothing; had +something given me.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a needle.” +“Where is the needle, Hans?” “Stuck it in the hay-cart.” “That was ill +done, Hans. Thou shouldst have stuck the needle in thy sleeve.” “Never +mind, I’ll do better next time.” + +“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, +I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What dost +thou bring that is good?” “I bring nothing; I want to have something +given to me.” Grethel presents Hans with a knife. “Good-bye, Grethel.” +“Good-bye Hans.” Hans takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and +goes home. “Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou +been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “Took her nothing, +she gave me something.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a +knife.” “Where is the knife, Hans?” “Stuck in my sleeve.” “That’s ill +done, Hans, thou shouldst have put the knife in thy pocket.” “Never +mind, will do better next time.” “Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, +mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.” +“Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good +thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, I want something given me.” +Grethel presents Hans with a young goat. “Good-bye, Grethel.” +“Good-bye, Hans.” Hans takes the goat, ties its legs, and puts it in +his pocket. When he gets home it is suffocated. “Good evening, mother.” +“Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst +thou take her?” “Took nothing, she gave me something.” “What did +Grethel give thee?” “She gave me a goat.” “Where is the goat, Hans?” +“Put it in my pocket.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have put +a rope round the goat’s neck.” “Never mind, will do better next time.” + +“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, +I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” Hans comes to +Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good thing dost +thou +bring?” “I bring nothing, I want something given me.” Grethel presents +Hans with a piece of bacon. “Good-bye, Grethel.” “Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it away behind him. +The dogs come and devour the bacon. When he gets home, he has the rope +in his hand, and there is no longer anything hanging to it. “Good +evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans.” “Where hast thou been?” “With +Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “I took her nothing, she gave me +something.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a bit of bacon.” +“Where is the bacon, Hans?” “I tied it to a rope, brought it home, dogs +took it.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have carried the +bacon on thy head.” “Never mind, will do better next time.” “Whither +away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll behave +well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans.” “What +good thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, but would have something +given.” Grethel presents Hans with a calf. “Good-bye, Grethel.” +“Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans takes the calf, puts it on his head, and the calf kicks his face. +“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?” +“With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “I took nothing, but had +something given me.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “A calf.” “Where +hast thou the calf, Hans?” “I set it on my head and it kicked my face.” +“That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have led the calf, and put it +in the stall.” “Never mind, will do better next time.” + +“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll +behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” + +Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good +thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, but would have something +given.” Grethel says to Hans, “I will go with thee.” + +Hans takes Grethel, ties her to a rope, leads her to the rack and binds +her fast. Then Hans goes to his mother. “Good evening, mother.” “Good +evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou +take her?” “I took her nothing.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “She +gave me nothing, she came with me.” “Where hast thou left Grethel?” “I +led her by the rope, tied her to the rack, and scattered some grass for +her.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have cast friendly eyes +on her.” “Never mind, will do better.” + +Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves’ and sheep’s eyes, +and threw them in Grethel’s face. Then Grethel became angry, tore +herself loose and ran away, and became the bride of Hans. + + + +33 The Three Languages + +An aged count once lived in Switzerland, who had an only son, but he +was stupid, and could learn nothing. Then said the father, “Hark thee, +my son, I can get nothing into thy head, let me try as I will. Thou +must go from hence, I will give thee into the care of a celebrated +master, who shall see what he can do with thee.” The youth was sent +into a strange town, and remained a whole year with the master. At the +end of this time, he came home again, and his father asked, “Now, my +son, what hast thou learnt?” “Father, I have learnt what the dogs say +when they bark.” “Lord have mercy on us!” cried the father; “is that +all thou hast learnt? I will send thee into another town, to another +master.” The youth was taken thither, and stayed a year with this +master likewise. When he came back the father again asked, “My son, +what hast thou learnt?” He answered, “Father, I have learnt what the +birds say.” Then the father fell into a rage and said, “Oh, thou lost +man, thou hast spent the precious time and learnt nothing; art thou not +ashamed to appear before mine eyes? I will send thee to a third master, +but if thou learnest nothing this time also, I will no longer be thy +father.” The youth remained a whole year with the third master also, +and when he came home again, and his father inquired, “My son, what +hast thou learnt?” he answered, “Dear father, I have this year learnt +what the frogs croak.” Then the father fell into the most furious +anger, sprang up, called his people thither, and said, “This man is no +longer my son, I drive him forth, and command you to take him out into +the forest, and kill him.” They took him forth, but when they should +have killed him, they could not do it for pity, and let him go, and +they cut the eyes and the tongue out of a deer that they might carry +them to the old man as a token. + +The youth wandered on, and after some time came to a fortress where he +begged for a night’s lodging. “Yes,” said the lord of the castle, “if +thou wilt pass the night down there in the old tower, go thither; but I +warn thee, it is at the peril of thy life, for it is full of wild dogs, +which bark and howl without stopping, and at certain hours a man has to +be given to them, whom they at once devour.” The whole district was in +sorrow and dismay because of them, and yet no one could do anything to +stop this. The youth, however, was without fear, and said, “Just let me +go down to the barking dogs, and give me something that I can throw to +them; they will do nothing to harm me.” As he himself would have it so, +they gave him some food for the wild animals, and led him down to the +tower. When he went inside, the dogs did not bark at him, but wagged +their tails quite amicably around him, ate what he set before them, and +did not hurt one hair of his head. Next morning, to the astonishment of +everyone, he came out again safe and unharmed, and said to the lord of +the castle, “The dogs have revealed to me, in their own language, why +they dwell there, and bring evil on the land. They are bewitched, and +are obliged to watch over a great treasure which is below in the tower, +and they can have no rest until it is taken away, and I have likewise +learnt, from their discourse, how that is to be done.” Then all who +heard this rejoiced, and the lord of the castle said he would adopt him +as a son if he accomplished it successfully. He went down again, and as +he knew what he had to do, he did it thoroughly, and brought a chest +full of gold out with him. The howling of the wild dogs was henceforth +heard no more; they had disappeared, and the country was freed from the +trouble. + +After some time he took it into his head that he would travel to Rome. +On the way he passed by a marsh, in which a number of frogs were +sitting croaking. He listened to them, and when he became aware of what +they were saying, he grew very thoughtful and sad. At last he arrived +in Rome, where the Pope had just died, and there was great difficulty +as to whom they should appoint as his successor. They at length agreed +that the person should be chosen as pope who should be distinguished by +some divine and miraculous token. And just as that was decided on, the +young count entered into the church, and suddenly two snow-white doves +flew on his shoulders and remained sitting there. The ecclesiastics +recognized therein the token from above, and asked him on the spot if +he would be pope. He was undecided, and knew not if he were worthy of +this, but the doves counselled him to do it, and at length he said yes. +Then was he anointed and consecrated, and thus was fulfilled what he +had heard from the frogs on his way, which had so affected him, that he +was to be his Holiness the Pope. Then he had to sing a mass, and did +not know one word of it, but the two doves sat continually on his +shoulders, and said it all in his ear. + + + +34 Clever Elsie + +There was once a man who had a daughter who was called Clever Elsie. +And when she had grown up her father said, “We will get her married.” +“Yes,” said the mother; “if only any one would come who would have +her.” At length a man came from a distance and wooed her, who was +called Hans; but he stipulated that Clever Elsie should be really wise. +“Oh,” said the father, “she’s sharp enough;” and the mother said, “Oh, +she can see the wind coming up the street, and hear the flies +coughing.” “Well,” said Hans, “if she is not really wise, I won’t have +her.” When they were sitting at dinner and had eaten, the mother said, +“Elsie, go into the cellar and fetch some beer.” Then Clever Elsie took +the pitcher from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped the lid +briskly as she went, so that the time might not appear long. When she +was below she fetched herself a chair, and set it before the barrel so +that she had no need to stoop, and did not hurt her back or do herself +any unexpected injury. Then she placed the can before her, and turned +the tap, and while the beer was running she would not let her eyes be +idle, but looked up at the wall, and after much peering here and there, +saw a pick-axe exactly above her, which the masons had accidentally +left there. + +Then Clever Elsie began to weep, and said, “If I get Hans, and we have +a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar here to draw +beer, then the pick-axe will fall on his head and kill him.” Then she +sat and wept and screamed with all the strength of her body, over the +misfortune which lay before her. Those upstairs waited for the drink, +but Clever Elsie still did not come. Then the woman said to the +servant, “Just go down into the cellar and see where Elsie is.” The +maid went and found her sitting in front of the barrel, screaming +loudly. “Elsie, why weepest thou?” asked the maid. “Ah,” she answered, +“have I not reason to weep? If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he +grows big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on +his head, and kill him.” Then said the maid, “What a clever Elsie we +have!” and sat down beside her and began loudly to weep over the +misfortune. After a while, as the maid did not come back, those +upstairs were thirsty for the beer, the man said to the boy, “Just go +down into the cellar and see where Elsie and the girl are.” The boy +went down, and there sat Clever Elsie and the girl both weeping +together. Then he asked, “Why are ye weeping?” “Ah,” said Elsie, “have +I not reason to weep? If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he grows +big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will fall on his head and +kill him.” Then said the boy, “What a clever Elsie we have!” and sat +down by her, and likewise began to howl loudly. Upstairs they waited +for the boy, but as he still did not return, the man said to the woman, +“Just go down into the cellar and see where Elsie is!” The woman went +down, and found all three in the midst of their lamentations, and +inquired what was the cause; then Elsie told her also that her future +child was to be killed by the pick-axe, when it grew big and had to +draw beer, and the pick-axe fell down. Then said the mother likewise, +“What a clever Elsie we have!” and sat down and wept with them. The man +upstairs waited a short time, but as his wife did not come back and his +thirst grew ever greater, he said, “I must go into the cellar myself +and see where Elsie is.” But when he got into the cellar, and they were +all sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and that Elsie’s +child was the cause, and that Elsie might perhaps bring one into the +world some day, and that it might be killed by the pick-axe, if it +should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing beer just at the very +time when it fell down, he cried, “Oh, what a clever Elsie!” and sat +down, and likewise wept with them. The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone +for a long time; then as no one would come back he thought, “They must +be waiting for me below; I too must go there and see what they are +about.” When he got down, five of them were sitting screaming and +lamenting quite piteously, each out-doing the other. “What misfortune +has happened then?” he asked. “Ah, dear Hans,” said Elsie, “if we marry +each other and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send him +here to draw something to drink, then the pick-axe which has been left +up there might dash his brains out if it were to fall down, so have we +not reason to weep?” “Come,” said Hans, “more understanding than that +is not needed for my household, as thou art such a clever Elsie, I will +have thee,” and he seized her hand, took her upstairs with him, and +married her. + +After Hans had had her some time, he said, “Wife, I am going out to +work and earn some money for us; go into the field and cut the corn +that we may have some bread.” “Yes, dear Hans, I will do that.” After +Hans had gone away, she cooked herself some good broth and took it into +the field with her. When she came to the field she said to herself, +“What shall I do; shall I shear first, or shall I eat first? Oh, I will +eat first.” Then she emptied her basin of broth, and when she was fully +satisfied, she once more said, “What shall I do? Shall I shear first, +or shall I sleep first? I will sleep first.” Then she lay down among +the corn and fell asleep. Hans had been at home for a long time, but +Elsie did not come; then said he, “What a clever Elsie I have; she is +so industrious that she does not even come home to eat.” As, however, +she still stayed away, and it was evening, Hans went out to see what +she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she was lying among the corn +asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought a fowler’s net with little +bells and hung it round about her, and she still went on sleeping. Then +he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat down in his chair and worked. +At length, when it was quite dark, Clever Elsie awoke and when she got +up there was a jingling all round about her, and the bells rang at each +step which she took. Then she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether +she really was Clever Elsie or not, and said, “Is it I, or is it not +I?” But she knew not what answer to make to this, and stood for a time +in doubt; at length she thought, “I will go home and ask if it be I, or +if it be not I, they will be sure to know.” She ran to the door of her +own house, but it was shut; then she knocked at the window and cried, +“Hans, is Elsie within?” “Yes,” answered Hans, “she is within.” +Hereupon she was terrified, and said, “Ah, heavens! Then it is not I,” +and went to another door; but when the people heard the jingling of the +bells they would not open it, and she could get in nowhere. Then she +ran out of the village, and no one has seen her since. + + + +35 The Tailor in Heaven + +One very fine day it came to pass that the good God wished to enjoy +himself in the heavenly garden, and took all the apostles and saints +with him, so that no one stayed in heaven but Saint Peter. The Lord had +commanded him to let no one in during his absence, so Peter stood by +the door and kept watch. Before long some one knocked. Peter asked who +was there, and what he wanted? “I am a poor, honest tailor who prays +for admission,” replied a smooth voice. “Honest indeed,” said Peter, +“like the thief on the gallows! Thou hast been light-fingered and hast +snipped folks’ clothes away. Thou wilt not get into heaven. The Lord +hath forbidden me to let any one in while he is out.” “Come, do be +merciful,” cried the tailor. “Little scraps which fall off the table of +their own accord are not stolen, and are not worth speaking about. +Look, I am lame, and have blisters on my feet with walking here, I +cannot possibly turn back again. Only let me in, and I will do all the +rough work. I will carry the children, and wash their clothes, and wash +and clean the benches on which they have been playing, and patch all +their torn clothes.” Saint Peter let himself be moved by pity, and +opened the door of heaven just wide enough for the lame tailor to slip +his lean body in. He was forced to sit down in a corner behind the +door, and was to stay quietly and peaceably there, in order that the +Lord, when he returned, might not observe him and be angry. The tailor +obeyed, but once when Saint Peter went outside the door, he got up, and +full of curiosity, went round about into every corner of heaven, and +inspected the arrangement of every place. At length he came to a spot +where many beautiful and delightful chairs were standing, and in the +midst was a seat all of gold which was set with shining jewels, +likewise it was much higher than the other chairs, and a footstool of +gold was before it. It was, however, the seat on which the Lord sat +when he was at home, and from which he could see everything which +happened on earth. The tailor stood still, and looked at the seat for a +long time, for it pleased him better than all else. At last he could +master his curiosity no longer, and climbed up and seated himself in +the chair. Then he saw everything which was happening on earth, and +observed an ugly old woman who was standing washing by the side of a +stream, secretly laying two veils on one side for herself. The sight of +this made the tailor so angry that he laid hold of the golden +footstool, and threw it down to earth through heaven, at the old thief. +As, however, he could not bring the stool back again, he slipped +quietly out of the chair, seated himself in his place behind the door, +and behaved as if he had never stirred from the spot. + +When the Lord and master came back again with his heavenly companions, +he did not see the tailor behind the door, but when he seated himself +on his chair the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter what had +become of the stool, but he did not know. Then he asked if he had let +anyone come in. “I know of no one who has been here,” answered Peter, +“but a lame tailor, who is still sitting behind the door.” Then the +Lord had the tailor brought before him, and asked him if he had taken +away the stool, and where he had put it? “Oh, Lord,” answered the +tailor joyously, “I threw it in my anger down to earth at an old woman +whom I saw stealing two veils at the washing.” “Oh, thou knave,” said +the Lord, “were I to judge as thou judgest, how dost thou think thou +couldst have escaped so long? I should long ago have had no chairs, +benches, seats, nay, not even an oven-fork, but should have thrown +everything down at the sinners. Henceforth thou canst stay no longer in +heaven, but must go outside the door again. Then go where thou wilt. No +one shall give punishment here, but I alone, the Lord.” + +Peter was obliged to take the tailor out of heaven again, and as he had +torn shoes, and feet covered with blisters, he took a stick in his +hand, and went to “Wait-a-bit,” where the good soldiers sit and make +merry. + + + +36 The Wishing-Table, the Gold-Ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack + +There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and only one +goat. But as the goat supported the whole of them with her milk, she +was obliged to have good food, and to be taken every day to pasture. +The sons, therefore, did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to the +churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found, and let her eat +and run about there. At night when it was time to go home he asked, +“Goat, hast thou had enough?” The goat answered, + +“I have eaten so much, +Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!” + + +“Come home, then,” said the youth, and took hold of the cord round her +neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely. “Well,” said +the old tailor, “has the goat had as much food as she ought?” “Oh,” +answered the son, “she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she’ll +touch.” But the father wished to satisfy himself, and went down to the +stable, stroked the dear animal and asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?” +The goat answered, + +“Wherewithal should I be satisfied? +Among the graves I leapt about, +And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!” + + +“What do I hear?” cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the +youth, “Hollo, thou liar: thou saidest the goat had had enough, and +hast let her hunger!” and in his anger he took the yard-measure from +the wall, and drove him out with blows. + +Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked out for a place +in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and the +goat cleared them all off. At night when he wanted to go home, he +asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?” The goat answered, + +“I have eaten so much, +Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!” + + +“Come home, then,” said the youth, and led her home, and tied her up in +the stable. “Well,” said the old tailor, “has the goat had as much food +as she ought?” “Oh,” answered the son, “she has eaten so much, not a +leaf more she’ll touch.” The tailor would not rely on this, but went +down to the stable and said, “Goat, hast thou had enough?” The goat +answered, + +“Wherewithal should I be satisfied? +Among the graves I leapt about, +And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!” + + +“The godless wretch!” cried the tailor, “to let such a good animal +hunger,” and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the +yard-measure. + +Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do the thing well, +and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the goat +devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he asked, “Goat, +hast thou had enough?” The goat answered, + +“I have eaten so much, +Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!” + + +“Come home, then,” said the youth, and led her into the stable, and +tied her up. “Well,” said the old tailor, “has the goat had a proper +amount of food?” “She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she’ll touch.” +The tailor did not trust to that, but went down and asked, “Goat, hast +thou had enough?” The wicked beast answered, + +“Wherewithal should I be satisfied? +Among the graves I leapt about, +And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!” + + +“Oh, the brood of liars!” cried the tailor, “each as wicked and +forgetful of his duty as the other! Ye shall no longer make a fool of +me,” and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs and belabored +the poor young fellow so vigorously with the yard-measure that he +sprang out of the house. + +The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he went down +into the stable, caressed the goat and said, “Come, my dear little +animal, I will take thee to feed myself.” He took her by the rope and +conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil, and whatever else +goats like to eat. “There thou mayest for once eat to thy heart’s +content,” said he to her, and let her browse till evening. Then he +asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?” She replied, + +“I have eaten so much, +Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!” + + +“Come home, then,” said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and +tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned round again and said, +“Well, art thou satisfied for once?” But the goat did not behave the +better to him, and cried, + +“Wherewithal should I be satisfied? +Among the graves I leapt about, +And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!” + + +When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that he had +driven away his three sons without cause. “Wait, thou ungrateful +creature,” cried he, “it is not enough to drive thee forth, I will mark +thee so that thou wilt no more dare to show thyself amongst honest +tailors.” In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his razor, lathered +the goat’s head, and shaved her as clean as the palm of his hand. And +as the yard-measure would have been too good for her, he brought the +horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that she ran away in violent +haste. + +When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into +great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no one +knew whither they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed himself to a +joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably, and when the time +came for him to go travelling, his master presented him with a little +table which had no particular appearance, and was made of common wood, +but it had one good property; if anyone set it out, and said, “Little +table, spread thyself,” the good little table was at once covered with +a clean little cloth, and a plate was there, and a knife and fork +beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as +there was room for, and a great glass of red wine shone so that it made +the heart glad. The young journeyman thought, “With this thou hast +enough for thy whole life,” and went joyously about the world and never +troubled himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything +was to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an +inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or wherever +he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it down before +him, and said, “Cover thyself,” and then everything appeared that his +heart desired. At length he took it into his head to go back to his +father, whose anger would now be appeased, and who would now willingly +receive him with his wishing-table. It came to pass that on his way +home, he came one evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They +bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with them, for +otherwise he would have difficulty in getting anything. “No,” answered +the joiner, “I will not take the few bites out of your mouths; rather +than that, you shall be my guests.” They laughed, and thought he was +jesting with them; he, however, placed his wooden table in the middle +of the room, and said, “Little table, cover thyself.” Instantly it was +covered with food, so good that the host could never have procured it, +and the smell of it ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. +“Fall to, dear friends,” said the joiner; and the guests when they saw +that he meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled +out their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the +most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took its +place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and watched +the affair; he did not at all know what to say, but thought, “Thou +couldst easily find a use for such a cook as that in thy kitchen.” The +joiner and his comrades made merry until late into the night; at length +they lay down to sleep, and the young apprentice also went to bed, and +set his magic table against the wall. The host’s thoughts, however, let +him have no rest; it occurred to him that there was a little old table +in his lumber-room which looked just like the apprentice’s and he +brought it out quite softly, and exchanged it for the wishing-table. +Next morning, the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never +thinking that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he +reached his father, who received him with great joy. “Well, my dear +son, what hast thou learnt?” said he to him. “Father, I have become a +joiner.” + +“A good trade,” replied the old man; “but what hast thou brought back +with thee from thy apprenticeship?” “Father, the best thing which I +have brought back with me is this little table.” The tailor inspected +it on all sides and said, “Thou didst not make a masterpiece when thou +mad’st that; it is a bad old table.” “But it is a table which furnishes +itself,” replied the son. “When I set it out, and tell it to cover +itself, the most beautiful dishes stand on it, and a wine also, which +gladdens the heart. Just invite all our relations and friends, they +shall refresh and enjoy themselves for once, for the table will give +them all they require.” When the company was assembled, he put his +table in the middle of the room and said, “Little table, cover +thyself,” but the little table did not bestir itself, and remained just +as bare as any other table which did not understand language. Then the +poor apprentice became aware that his table had been changed, and was +ashamed at having to stand there like a liar. The relations, however, +mocked him, and were forced to go home without having eaten or drunk. +The father brought out his patches again, and went on tailoring, but +the son went to a master in the craft. + +The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself to him. +When his years were over, the master said, “As thou hast conducted +thyself so well, I give thee an ass of a peculiar kind, which neither +draws a cart nor carries a sack.” “To what use is he put, then?” asked +the young apprentice. “He lets gold drop from his mouth,” answered the +miller. “If thou settest him on a cloth and sayest ‘Bricklebrit,’ the +good animal will drop gold pieces for thee.” “That is a fine thing,” +said the apprentice, and thanked the master, and went out into the +world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say “Bricklebrit” to +his ass, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick +them off the ground. Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was +good enough for him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a +full purse. When he had looked about the world for some time, he +thought, “Thou must seek out thy father; if thou goest to him with the +gold-ass he will forget his anger, and receive thee well.” It came to +pass that he came to the same public-house in which his brother’s table +had been exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was +about to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young +apprentice said, “Don’t trouble yourself, I will take my grey horse +into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he +stands.” This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a man who was +forced to look after his ass himself, could not have much to spend; but +when the stranger put his hand in his pocket and brought out two gold +pieces, and said he was to provide something good for him, the host +opened his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he could muster. +After dinner the guest asked what he owed. The host did not see why he +should not double the reckoning, and said the apprentice must give two +more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an +end. “Wait an instant, sir host,” said he, “I will go and fetch some +money;” but he took the table-cloth with him. The host could not +imagine what this could mean, and being curious, stole after him, and +as the guest bolted the stable-door, he peeped through a hole left by a +knot in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under the animal +and cried, “Bricklebrit,” and immediately the beast began to let gold +pieces fall, so that it fairly rained down money on the ground. “Eh, my +word,” said the host, “ducats are quickly coined there! A purse like +that is not amiss.” The guest paid his score, and went to bed, but in +the night the host stole down into the stable, led away the master of +the mint, and tied up another ass in his place. Early next morning the +apprentice travelled away with his ass, and thought that he had his +gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his father, who rejoiced to see him +again, and gladly took him in. “What hast thou made of thyself, my +son?” asked the old man. “A miller,” dear father, he answered. “What +hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?” “Nothing else but +an ass.” “There are asses enough here,” said the father, “I would +rather have had a good goat.” “Yes,” replied the son, “but it is no +common ass, but a gold-ass, when I say ‘Bricklebrit,’ the good beast +opens its mouth and drops a whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon +all our relations hither, and I will make them rich folks.” “That suits +me well,” said the tailor, “for then I shall have no need to torment +myself any longer with the needle,” and ran out himself and called the +relations together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade +them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room. +“Now watch,” said he, and cried, “Bricklebrit,” but no gold pieces +fell, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the art, for +every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor miller pulled +a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged pardon of the +relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There was no help for +it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once more, and the +youth hired himself to a miller. + +The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that is +skilled labour, he was the longest in learning. His brothers, however, +told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them, and how the +innkeeper had cheated them of their beautiful wishing-gifts on the last +evening before they reached home. When the turner had served his time, +and had to set out on his travels, as he had conducted himself so well, +his master presented him with a sack and said, “There is a cudgel in +it.” “I can put on the sack,” said he, “and it may be of good service +to me, but why should the cudgel be in it? It only makes it heavy.” “I +will tell thee why,” replied the master; “if any one has done anything +to injure thee, do but say, ‘Out of the sack, Cudgel!’ and the cudgel +will leap forth among the people, and play such a dance on their backs +that they will not be able to stir or move for a week, and it will not +leave off until thou sayest, ‘Into the sack, Cudgel!’” The apprentice +thanked him, and put the sack on his back, and when any one came too +near him, and wished to attack him, he said, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!” +and instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of +one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had +stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone +was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the young turner +reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated. He laid his sack +on the table before him, and began to talk of all the wonderful things +which he had seen in the world. “Yes,” said he, “people may easily find +a table which will cover itself, a gold-ass, and things of that +kind—extremely good things which I by no means despise—but these are +nothing in comparison with the treasure which I have won for myself, +and am carrying about with me in my sack there.” The inn-keeper pricked +up his ears, “What in the world can that be?” thought he; “the sack +must be filled with nothing but jewels; I ought to get them cheap too, +for all good things go in threes.” When it was time for sleep, the +guest stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for +a pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest was lying in a sound +sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite gently and carefully +at the sack to see if he could possibly draw it away and lay another in +its place. The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a long +time, and now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he +cried, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!” Instantly the little cudgel came +forth, and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing. + +The host cried for mercy; but the louder he cried, so much more heavily +the cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the +ground exhausted. Then the turner said, “If thou dost not give back the +table which covers itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall begin +afresh.” “Oh, no,” cried the host, quite humbly, “I will gladly produce +everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into the sack.” +Then said the apprentice, “I will let mercy take the place of justice, +but beware of getting into mischief again!” So he cried, “Into the +sack, Cudgel!” and let him have rest. + +Next morning the turner went home to his father with the wishing-table, +and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw him once more, and +asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign parts. “Dear father,” +said he, “I have become a turner.” “A skilled trade,” said the father. +“What hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?” + +“A precious thing, dear father,” replied the son, “a cudgel in the +sack.” + +“What!” cried the father, “a cudgel! That’s worth thy trouble, indeed! +From every tree thou can cut thyself one.” “But not one like this, dear +father. If I say, ‘Out of the sack, Cudgel!’ the cudgel springs out and +leads any one who means ill with me a weary dance, and never stops +until he lies on the ground and prays for fair weather. Look you, with +this cudgel have I got back the wishing-table and the gold-ass which +the thievish inn-keeper took away from my brothers. Now let them both +be sent for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to +drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the bargain.” The old +tailor would not quite believe, but nevertheless got the relatives +together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the +gold-ass, and said to his brother, “Now, dear brother, speak to him.” +The miller said, “Bricklebrit,” and instantly the gold pieces fell down +on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop until +every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see +in thy face that thou also wouldst like to be there.) + +Then the turner brought the little table, and said, “Now dear brother, +speak to it.” And scarcely had the carpenter said, “Table, cover +thyself,” than it was spread and amply covered with the most exquisite +dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good tailor had never yet +known in his house, and the whole party of kinsmen stayed together till +far in the night, and were all merry and glad. The tailor locked away +needle and thread, yard-measure and goose, in a press, and lived with +his three sons in joy and splendour. (What, however, has become of the +goat who was to blame for the tailor driving out his three sons? That I +will tell thee. She was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a +fox’s hole and crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two +great eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away. +A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said, “What +is the matter with thee, brother Fox, why dost thou look like that?” +“Ah,” answered Redskin, “a fierce beast is in my cave and stared at me +with its fiery eyes.” “We will soon drive him out,” said the bear, and +went with him to the cave and looked in, but when he saw the fiery +eyes, fear seized on him likewise; he would have nothing to do with the +furious beast, and took to his heels. The bee met him, and as she saw +that he was ill at ease, she said, “Bear, thou art really pulling a +very pitiful face; what has become of all thy gaiety?” “It is all very +well for thee to talk,” replied the bear, “a furious beast with staring +eyes is in Redskin’s house, and we can’t drive him out.” The bee said, +“Bear I pity thee, I am a poor weak creature whom thou wouldst not turn +aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help thee.” She flew into +the fox’s cave, lighted on the goat’s smoothly-shorn head, and stung +her so violently, that she sprang up, crying “Meh, meh,” and ran forth +into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she has +gone.) + + + +37 Thumbling + +There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the hearth and +poked the fire, and his wife sat and span. Then said he, “How sad it is +that we have no children! With us all is so quiet, and in other houses +it is noisy and lively.” + +“Yes,” replied the wife, and sighed, “even if we had only one, and it +were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite +satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.” Now it so +happened that the woman fell ill, and after seven months gave birth to +a child, that was perfect in all its limbs, but no longer than a thumb. +Then said they, “It is as we wished it to be, and it shall be our dear +child;” and because of its size, they called it Thumbling. They did not +let it want for food, but the child did not grow taller, but remained +as it had been at the first, nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its +eyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature, for +everything it did turned out well. + +One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut +wood, when he said as if to himself, “How I wish that there was any one +who would bring the cart to me!” “Oh father,” cried Thumbling, “I will +soon bring the cart, rely on that; it shall be in the forest at the +appointed time.” The man smiled and said, “How can that be done, thou +art far too small to lead the horse by the reins?” “That’s of no +consequence, father, if my mother will only harness it, I shall sit in +the horse’s ear and call out to him how he is to go.” “Well,” answered +the man, “for once we will try it.” + +When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed +Thumbling in its ear, and then the little creature cried, “Gee up, gee +up!” + +Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart went +the right way into the forest. It so happened that just as he was +turning a corner, and the little one was crying, “Gee up,” two strange +men came towards him. “My word!” said one of them, “What is this? There +is a cart coming, and a driver is calling to the horse and still he is +not to be seen!” “That can’t be right,” said the other, “we will follow +the cart and see where it stops.” The cart, however, drove right into +the forest, and exactly to the place where the wood had been cut. When +Thumbling saw his father, he cried to him, “Seest thou, father, here I +am with the cart; now take me down.” The father got hold of the horse +with his left hand and with the right took his little son out of the +ear. Thumbling sat down quite merrily on a straw, but when the two +strange men saw him, they did not know what to say for astonishment. +Then one of them took the other aside and said, “Hark, the little +fellow would make our fortune if we exhibited him in a large town, for +money. We will buy him.” They went to the peasant and said, “Sell us +the little man. He shall be well treated with us.” “No,” replied the +father, “he is the apple of my eye, and all the money in the world +cannot buy him from me.” Thumbling, however, when he heard of the +bargain, had crept up the folds of his father’s coat, placed himself on +his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Father do give me away, I will +soon come back again.” Then the father parted with him to the two men +for a handsome bit of money. “Where wilt thou sit?” they said to him. +“Oh just set me on the rim of your hat, and then I can walk backwards +and forwards and look at the country, and still not fall down.” They +did as he wished, and when Thumbling had taken leave of his father, +they went away with him. They walked until it was dusk, and then the +little fellow said, “Do take me down, I want to come down.” The man +took his hat off, and put the little fellow on the ground by the +wayside, and he leapt and crept about a little between the sods, and +then he suddenly slipped into a mouse-hole which he had sought out. +“Good evening, gentlemen, just go home without me,” he cried to them, +and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their sticks into the +mouse-hole, but it was all lost labour. Thumbling crept still farther +in, and as it soon became quite dark, they were forced to go home with +their vexation and their empty purses. + +When Thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the +subterranean passage. “It is so dangerous to walk on the ground in the +dark,” said he; “how easily a neck or a leg is broken!” Fortunately he +knocked against an empty snail-shell. “Thank God!” said he. “In that I +can pass the night in safety,” and got into it. Not long afterwards, +when he was just going to sleep, he heard two men go by, and one of +them was saying, “How shall we contrive to get hold of the rich +pastor’s silver and gold?” “I could tell thee that,” cried Thumbling, +interrupting them. “What was that?” said one of the thieves in fright, +“I heard some one speaking.” They stood still listening, and Thumbling +spoke again, and said, “Take me with you, and I’ll help you.” + +“But where art thou?” “Just look on the ground, and observe from whence +my voice comes,” he replied. There the thieves at length found him, and +lifted him up. “Thou little imp, how wilt thou help us?” they said. “A +great deal,” said he, “I will creep into the pastor’s room through the +iron bars, and will reach out to you whatever you want to have.” “Come +then,” they said, “and we will see what thou canst do.” When they got +to the pastor’s house, Thumbling crept into the room, but instantly +cried out with all his might, “Do you want to have everything that is +here?” The thieves were alarmed, and said, “But do speak softly, so as +not to waken any one!” Thumbling however, behaved as if he had not +understood this, and cried again, “What do you want? Do you want to +have everything that is here?” The cook, who slept in the next room, +heard this and sat up in bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had +in their fright run some distance away, but at last they took courage, +and thought, “The little rascal wants to mock us.” They came back and +whispered to him, “Come, be serious, and reach something out to us.” +Then Thumbling again cried as loudly as he could, “I really will give +you everything, just put your hands in.” The maid who was listening, +heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed and rushed to the +door. The thieves took flight, and ran as if the Wild Huntsman were +behind them, but as the maid could not see anything, she went to strike +a light. When she came to the place with it, Thumbling, unperceived, +betook himself to the granary, and the maid, after she had examined +every corner and found nothing, lay down in her bed again, and believed +that, after all, she had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears. + +Thumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful place to +sleep in; there he intended to rest until day, and then go home again +to his parents. But he had other things to go through. Truly, there is +much affliction and misery in this world! When day dawned, the maid +arose from her bed to feed the cows. Her first walk was into the barn, +where she laid hold of an armful of hay, and precisely that very one in +which poor Thumbling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so +soundly that he was aware of nothing, and did not awake until he was in +the mouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay. “Ah, +heavens!” cried he, “how have I got into the fulling mill?” but he soon +discovered where he was. Then it was necessary to be careful not to let +himself go between the teeth and be dismembered, but he was +nevertheless forced to slip down into the stomach with the hay. “In +this little room the windows are forgotten,” said he, “and no sun +shines in, neither will a candle be brought.” His quarters were +especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was, more and more hay was +always coming in by the door, and the space grew less and less. Then at +length in his anguish, he cried as loud as he could, “Bring me no more +fodder, bring me no more fodder.” The maid was just milking the cow, +and when she heard some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived +that it was the same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so +terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk. She ran +in great haste to her master, and said, “Oh heavens, pastor, the cow +has been speaking!” “Thou art mad,” replied the pastor; but he went +himself to the byre to see what was there. Hardly, however had he set +his foot inside when Thumbling again cried, “Bring me no more fodder, +bring me no more fodder.” Then the pastor himself was alarmed, and +thought that an evil spirit had gone into the cow, and ordered her to +be killed. She was killed, but the stomach, in which Thumbling was, was +thrown on the midden. Thumbling had great difficulty in working his +way; however, he succeeded so far as to get some room, but just as he +was going to thrust his head out, a new misfortune occurred. A hungry +wolf ran thither, and swallowed the whole stomach at one gulp. +Thumbling did not lose courage. “Perhaps,” thought he, “the wolf will +listen to what I have got to say,” and he called to him from out of his +stomach, “Dear wolf, I know of a magnificent feast for you.” + +“Where is it to be had?” said the wolf. + +“In such and such a house; thou must creep into it through the +kitchen-sink, and wilt find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and as much +of them as thou canst eat,” and he described to him exactly his +father’s house. The wolf did not require to be told this twice, +squeezed himself in at night through the sink, and ate to his heart’s +content in the larder. When he had eaten his fill, he wanted to go out +again, but he had become so big that he could not go out by the same +way. Thumbling had reckoned on this, and now began to make a violent +noise in the wolf’s body, and raged and screamed as loudly as he could. +“Wilt thou be quiet,” said the wolf, “thou wilt waken up the people!” +“Eh, what,” replied the little fellow, “thou hast eaten thy fill, and I +will make merry likewise,” and began once more to scream with all his +strength. At last his father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to +the room and looked in through the opening in the door. When they saw +that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and the husband fetched his axe, +and the wife the scythe. “Stay behind,” said the man, when they entered +the room. “When I have given him a blow, if he is not killed by it, +thou must cut him down and hew his body to pieces.” Then Thumbling +heard his parents, voices and cried, “Dear father, I am here; I am in +the wolf’s body.” Said the father, full of joy, “Thank God, our dear +child has found us again,” and bade the woman take away her scythe, +that Thumbling might not be hurt with it. After that he raised his arm, +and struck the wolf such a blow on his head that he fell down dead, and +then they got knives and scissors and cut his body open and drew the +little fellow forth. “Ah,” said the father, “what sorrow we have gone +through for thy sake.” “Yes father, I have gone about the world a great +deal. Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again!” “Where hast thou been, +then?” “Ah, father, I have been in a mouse’s hole, in a cow’s stomach, +and then in a wolf’s; now I will stay with you.” “And we will not sell +thee again, no, not for all the riches in the world,” said his parents, +and they embraced and kissed their dear Thumbling. They gave him to eat +and to drink, and had some new clothes made for him, for his own had +been spoiled on his journey. + + + +38 The Wedding of Mrs. Fox + +FIRST STORY + + +There was once on a time an old fox with nine tails, who believed that +his wife was not faithful to him, and wished to try her. He stretched +himself out under the bench, did not move a limb, and behaved as if he +were stone dead. Mrs. Fox went up to her room, shut herself in, and her +maid, Miss Cat, sat by the fire, and did the cooking. When it became +known that the old fox was dead, wooers presented themselves. The maid +heard some one standing at the house-door, knocking. She went and +opened it, and it was a young fox, who said, + +“What may you be about, Miss Cat? +Do you sleep or do you wake?” + + +She answered, + +“I am not sleeping, I am waking, +Wouldst thou know what I am making? +I am boiling warm beer with butter so nice, +Will the gentleman enter and drink some likewise?” + + +“No, thank you, miss,” said the fox, “what is Mrs. Fox doing?” The maid +replied, + +“She sits all alone, +And makes her moan, +Weeping her little eyes quite red, +Because old Mr. Fox is dead.” + + +“Do just tell her, miss, that a young fox is here, who would like to +woo her.” “Certainly, young sir.” + +The cat goes up the stairs trip, trap, +The door she knocks at tap, tap, tap, +“Mistress Fox, are you inside?” +“Oh yes, my little cat,” she cried. +“A wooer he stands at the door out there.” +“Tell me what he is like, my dear?” + + +“But has he nine as beautiful tails as the late Mr. Fox?” “Oh, no,” +answered the cat, “he has only one.” + +“Then I will not have him.” Miss Cat went downstairs and sent the wooer +away. Soon afterwards there was another knock, and another fox was at +the door who wished to woo Mrs. Fox. He had two tails, but he did not +fare better than the first. After this still more came, each with one +tail more than the other, but they were all turned away, until at last +one came who had nine tails, like old Mr. Fox. When the widow heard +that, she said joyfully to the cat, + +“Now open the gates and doors all wide, +And carry old Mr. Fox outside.” + + +But just as the wedding was going to be solemnized, old Mr. Fox stirred +under the bench, and cudgelled all the rabble, and drove them and Mrs. +Fox out of the house. + +SECOND STORY + + +When old Mr. Fox was dead, the wolf came as a wooer, and knocked at the +door, and the cat who was servant to Mrs. Fox, opened it for him. The +wolf greeted her, and said, + +“Good day, Mrs. Cat of Kehrewit, +“How comes it that alone you sit? +What are you making good?” + + +The cat replied, + +“In milk I’m breaking bread so sweet, +Will the gentleman please come in and eat?” + + +“No, thank you, Mrs. Cat,” answered the wolf. “Is Mrs. Fox not at +home?” + +The cat said, + +“She sits upstairs in her room, +Bewailing her sorrowful doom, +Bewailing her trouble so sore, +For old Mr. Fox is no more.” + + +The wolf answered, + +“If she’s in want of a husband now, +Then will it please her to step below?” +The cat runs quickly up the stair, +And lets her tail fly here and there, +Until she comes to the parlour door. +With her five gold rings at the door she knocks, +“Are you within, good Mistress Fox? +If you’re in want of a husband now, +Then will it please you to step below? + + +Mrs. Fox asked, “Has the gentleman red stockings on’ and has he a +pointed mouth?” “No,” answered the cat. “Then he won’t do for me.” + +When the wolf was gone, came a dog, a stag, a hare, a bear, a lion, and +all the beasts of the forest, one after the other. But one of the good +points which old Mr. Fox had possessed, was always lacking, and the cat +had continually to send the wooers away. At length came a young fox. +Then Mrs. Fox said, “Has the gentleman red stockings on, and has he a +little pointed mouth?” “Yes,” said the cat, “he has.” “Then let him +come upstairs,” said Mrs. Fox, and ordered the servant to prepare the +wedding-feast. + +“Sweep me the room as clean as you can, +Up with the window, fling out my old man! +For many a fine fat mouse he brought, +Yet of his wife he never thought, +But ate up every one he caught.” + + +Then the wedding was solemnized with young Mr. Fox, and there was much +rejoicing and dancing; and if they have not left off, they are dancing +still. + + + +39 The Elves + +FIRST STORY + + +A shoemaker, by no fault of his own, had become so poor that at last he +had nothing left but leather for one pair of shoes. So in the evening, +he cut out the shoes which he wished to begin to make the next morning, +and as he had a good conscience, he lay down quietly in his bed, +commended himself to God, and fell asleep. In the morning, after he had +said his prayers, and was just going to sit down to work, the two shoes +stood quite finished on his table. He was astounded, and knew not what +to say to it. He took the shoes in his hands to observe them closer, +and they were so neatly made that there was not one bad stitch in them, +just as if they were intended as a masterpiece. Soon after, a buyer +came in, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more for them +than was customary, and, with the money, the shoemaker was able to +purchase leather for two pairs of shoes. He cut them out at night, and +next morning was about to set to work with fresh courage; but he had no +need to do so, for, when he got up, they were already made, and buyers +also were not wanting, who gave him money enough to buy leather for +four pairs of shoes. The following morning, too, he found the four +pairs made; and so it went on constantly, what he cut out in the +evening was finished by the morning, so that he soon had his honest +independence again, and at last became a wealthy man. Now it befell +that one evening not long before Christmas, when the man had been +cutting out, he said to his wife, before going to bed, “What think you +if we were to stay up to-night to see who it is that lends us this +helping hand?” The woman liked the idea, and lighted a candle, and then +they hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind some clothes which +were hanging up there, and watched. When it was midnight, two pretty +little naked men came, sat down by the shoemaker’s table, took all the +work which was cut out before them and began to stitch, and sew, and +hammer so skilfully and so quickly with their little fingers that the +shoemaker could not turn away his eyes for astonishment. They did not +stop until all was done, and stood finished on the table, and they ran +quickly away. + +Next morning the woman said, “The little men have made us rich, and we +really must show that we are grateful for it. They run about so, and +have nothing on, and must be cold. I’ll tell thee what I’ll do: I will +make them little shirts, and coats, and vests, and trousers, and knit +both of them a pair of stockings, and do thou, too, make them two +little pairs of shoes.” The man said, “I shall be very glad to do it;” +and one night, when everything was ready, they laid their presents all +together on the table instead of the cut-out work, and then concealed +themselves to see how the little men would behave. At midnight they +came bounding in, and wanted to get to work at once, but as they did +not find any leather cut out, but only the pretty little articles of +clothing, they were at first astonished, and then they showed intense +delight. They dressed themselves with the greatest rapidity, putting +the pretty clothes on, and singing, + +“Now we are boys so fine to see, +Why should we longer cobblers be?” + + +Then they danced and skipped and leapt over chairs and benches. At last +they danced out of doors. From that time forth they came no more, but +as long as the shoemaker lived all went well with him, and all his +undertakings prospered. + +SECOND STORY + + +There was once a poor servant-girl, who was industrious and cleanly, +and swept the house every day, and emptied her sweepings on the great +heap in front of the door. One morning when she was just going back to +her work, she found a letter on this heap, and as she could not read, +she put her broom in the corner, and took the letter to her master and +mistress, and behold it was an invitation from the elves, who asked the +girl to hold a child for them at its christening. The girl did not know +what to do, but at length, after much persuasion, and as they told her +that it was not right to refuse an invitation of this kind, she +consented. Then three elves came and conducted her to a hollow +mountain, where the little folks lived. Everything there was small, but +more elegant and beautiful than can be described. The baby’s mother lay +in a bed of black ebony ornamented with pearls, the coverlids were +embroidered with gold, the cradle was of ivory, the bath of gold. The +girl stood as godmother, and then wanted to go home again, but the +little elves urgently entreated her to stay three days with them. So +she stayed, and passed the time in pleasure and gaiety, and the little +folks did all they could to make her happy. At last she set out on her +way home. Then first they filled her pockets quite full of money, and +after that they led her out of the mountain again. When she got home, +she wanted to begin her work, and took the broom, which was still +standing in the corner, in her hand and began to sweep. Then some +strangers came out of the house, who asked her who she was, and what +business she had there? And she had not, as she thought, been three +days with the little men in the mountains, but seven years, and in the +meantime her former masters had died. + +THIRD STORY + + +A certain mother’s child had been taken away out of its cradle by the +elves, and a changeling with a large head and staring eyes, which would +do nothing but eat and drink, laid in its place. In her trouble she +went to her neighbour, and asked her advice. The neighbour said that +she was to carry the changeling into the kitchen, set it down on the +hearth, light a fire, and boil some water in two egg-shells, which +would make the changeling laugh, and if he laughed, all would be over +with him. The woman did everything that her neighbour bade her. When +she put the egg-shells with water on the fire, the imp said, “I am as +old now as the Wester forest, but never yet have I seen any one boil +anything in an egg-shell!” And he began to laugh at it. Whilst he was +laughing, suddenly came a host of little elves, who brought the right +child, set it down on the hearth, and took the changeling away with +them. + + + +40 The Robber Bridegroom + +There was once on a time a miller, who had a beautiful daughter, and as +she was grown up, he wished that she was provided for, and well +married. He thought, “If any good suitor comes and asks for her, I will +give her to him.” Not long afterwards, a suitor came, who appeared to +be very rich, and as the miller had no fault to find with him, he +promised his daughter to him. The maiden, however, did not like him +quite so much as a girl should like the man to whom she is engaged, and +had no confidence in him. Whenever she saw, or thought of him, she felt +a secret horror. Once he said to her, “Thou art my betrothed, and yet +thou hast never once paid me a visit.” The maiden replied, “I know not +where thy house is.” Then said the bridegroom, “My house is out there +in the dark forest.” She tried to excuse herself and said she could not +find the way there. The bridegroom said, “Next Sunday thou must come +out there to me; I have already invited the guests, and I will strew +ashes in order that thou mayst find thy way through the forest.” When +Sunday came, and the maiden had to set out on her way, she became very +uneasy, she herself knew not exactly why, and to mark her way she +filled both her pockets full of peas and lentils. Ashes were strewn at +the entrance of the forest, and these she followed, but at every step +she threw a couple of peas on the ground. She walked almost the whole +day until she reached the middle of the forest, where it was the +darkest, and there stood a solitary house, which she did not like, for +it looked so dark and dismal. She went inside it, but no one was +within, and the most absolute stillness reigned. Suddenly a voice +cried, + +“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, +’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.” + + +The maiden looked up, and saw that the voice came from a bird, which +was hanging in a cage on the wall. Again it cried, + +“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, +’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.” + + +Then the young maiden went on farther from one room to another, and +walked through the whole house, but it was entirely empty and not one +human being was to be found. At last she came to the the cellar, and +there sat an extremely aged woman, whose head shook constantly. “Can +you not tell me,” said the maiden, “if my betrothed lives here?” + +“Alas, poor child,” replied the old woman, “whither hast thou come? +Thou art in a murderer’s den. Thou thinkest thou art a bride soon to be +married, but thou wilt keep thy wedding with death. Look, I have been +forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it, and when they +have thee in their power, they will cut thee to pieces without mercy, +will cook thee, and eat thee, for they are eaters of human flesh. If I +do not have compassion on thee, and save thee, thou art lost.” + +Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great hogshead where she could +not be seen. “Be as still as a mouse,” said she, “do not make a sound, +or move, or all will be over with thee. At night, when the robbers are +asleep, we will escape; I have long waited for an opportunity.” Hardly +was this done, than the godless crew came home. They dragged with them +another young girl. They were drunk, and paid no heed to her screams +and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full, one +glass of white wine, one glass of red, and a glass of yellow, and with +this her heart burst in twain. Thereupon they tore off her delicate +raiment, laid her on a table, cut her beautiful body in pieces and +strewed salt thereon. The poor bride behind the cask trembled and +shook, for she saw right well what fate the robbers had destined for +her. One of them noticed a gold ring on the little finger of the +murdered girl, and as it would not come off at once, he took an axe and +cut the finger off, but it sprang up in the air, away over the cask and +fell straight into the bride’s bosom. The robber took a candle and +wanted to look for it, but could not find it. Then another of them +said, “Hast thou looked behind the great hogshead?” But the old woman +cried, “Come and get something to eat, and leave off looking till the +morning, the finger won’t run away from you.” + +Then the robbers said, “The old woman is right,” and gave up their +search, and sat down to eat, and the old woman poured a +sleeping-draught in their wine, so that they soon lay down in the +cellar, and slept and snored. When the bride heard that, she came out +from behind the hogshead, and had to step over the sleepers, for they +lay in rows on the ground, and great was her terror lest she should +waken one of them. But God helped her, and she got safely over. The old +woman went up with her, opened the doors, and they hurried out of the +murderers’ den with all the speed in their power. The wind had blown +away the strewn ashes, but the peas and lentils had sprouted and grown +up, and showed them the way in the moonlight. They walked the whole +night, until in the morning they arrived at the mill, and then the +maiden told her father everything exactly as it had happened. + +When the day came when the wedding was to be celebrated, the bridegroom +appeared, and the Miller had invited all his relations and friends. As +they sat at table, each was bidden to relate something. The bride sat +still, and said nothing. Then said the bridegroom to the bride, “Come, +my darling, dost thou know nothing? Relate something to us like the +rest.” She replied, “Then I will relate a dream. I was walking alone +through a wood, and at last I came to a house, in which no living soul +was, but on the wall there was a bird in a cage which cried, + +“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, +’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.” + + +And this it cried once more. ‘My darling, I only dreamt this. Then I +went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and there was +something so horrible about them! At last I went down into the cellar, +and there sat a very very old woman, whose head shook; I asked her, +‘Does my bridegroom live in this house? She answered, ‘Alas poor child, +thou hast got into a murderer’s den, thy bridegroom does live here, but +he will hew thee in pieces, and kill thee, and then he will cook thee, +and eat thee.’ My darling, I only dreamt this. But the old woman hid me +behind a great hogshead, and, scarcely was I hidden, when the robbers +came home, dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three kinds +of wine to drink, white, red, and yellow, with which her heart broke in +twain. My darling, I only dreamt this. Thereupon they pulled off her +pretty clothes, and hewed her fair body in pieces on a table, and +sprinkled them with salt. My darling, I only dreamt this. And one of +the robbers saw that there was still a ring on her little finger, and +as it was hard to draw off, he took an axe and cut it off, but the +finger sprang up in the air, and sprang behind the great hogshead, and +fell in my bosom. And there is the finger with the ring!” And with +these words she drew it forth, and showed it to those present. + +The robber, who had during this story become as pale as ashes, leapt up +and wanted to escape, but the guests held him fast, and delivered him +over to justice. Then he and his whole troop were executed for their +infamous deeds. + + + +41 Herr Korbes + +There were once a cock and a hen who wanted to take a journey together. +So the cock built a beautiful carriage, which had four red wheels, and +harnessed four mice to it. The hen seated herself in it with the cock, +and they drove away together. Not long afterwards they met a cat who +said, “Where are you going?” The cock replied, “We are going to the +house of Herr Korbes.” “Take me with you,” said the cat. The cock +answered, “Most willingly, get up behind, lest you fall off in front. +Take great care not to dirty my little red wheels. And you little +wheels, roll on, and you little mice pipe out, as we go forth on our +way to the house of Herr Korbes.” + +After this came a millstone, then an egg, then a duck, then a pin, and +at last a needle, who all seated themselves in the carriage, and drove +with them. When, however, they reached the house of Herr Korbes, Herr +Korbes was not there. The mice drew the carriage into the barn, the hen +flew with the cock upon a perch. The cat sat down by the hearth, the +duck on the well-pole. The egg rolled itself into a towel, the pin +stuck itself into the chair-cushion, the needle jumped on to the bed in +the middle of the pillow, and the millstone laid itself over the door. +Then Herr Korbes came home, went to the hearth, and was about to light +the fire, when the cat threw a quantity of ashes in his face. He ran +into the kitchen in a great hurry to wash it off, and the duck splashed +some water in his face. He wanted to dry it with the towel, but the egg +rolled up against him, broke, and glued up his eyes. He wanted to rest, +and sat down in the chair, and then the pin pricked him. He fell in a +passion, and threw himself on his bed, but as soon as he laid his head +on the pillow, the needle pricked him, so that he screamed aloud, and +was just going to run out into the wide world in his rage, but when he +came to the house-door, the millstone leapt down and struck him dead. +Herr Korbes must have been a very wicked man! + + + +42 The Godfather + +A poor man had so many children that he had already asked every one in +the world to be godfather, and when still another child was born, no +one else was left whom he could invite. He knew not what to do, and, in +his perplexity, he lay down and fell asleep. Then he dreamt that he was +to go outside the gate, and ask the first person who met him to be +godfather. When he awoke, he determined to obey his dream, and went +outside the gate, and asked the first person who came up to him to be +godfather. The stranger presented him with a little glass of water, and +said, “This is a wonderful water, with it thou canst heal the sick, +only thou must see where Death is standing. If he is standing by the +patient’s head, give the patient some of the water and he will be +healed, but if Death is standing by his feet, all trouble will be in +vain, for the sick man must die.” From this time forth, the man could +always say whether a patient could be saved or not, and became famous +for his skill, and earned a great deal of money. Once he was called in +to the child of the King, and when he entered, he saw death standing by +the child’s head and cured it with the water, and he did the same a +second time, but the third time Death was standing by its feet, and +then he knew the child was forced to die. + +Once the man thought he would visit the godfather, and tell him how he +had succeeded with the water. But when he entered the house, it was +such a strange establishment! On the first flight of stairs, the broom +and shovel were disputing, and knocking each other about violently. He +asked them, “Where does the godfather live?” The broom replied, “One +flight of stairs higher up.” When he came to the second flight, he saw +a heap of dead fingers lying. He asked, “Where does the godfather +live?” One of the fingers replied, “One flight of stairs higher.” On +the third flight lay a heap of dead heads, which again directed him to +the flight beyond. On the fourth flight, he saw fishes on the fire, +which frizzled in the pans and baked themselves. They, too, said, “One +flight of stairs higher.” And when he had ascended the fifth, he came +to the door of a room and peeped through the keyhole, and there he saw +the godfather who had a pair of long horns. When he opened the door and +went in, the godfather got into bed in a great hurry and covered +himself up. Then said the man, “Sir godfather, what a strange household +you have! When I came to your first flight of stairs, the shovel and +broom were quarreling, and beating each other violently.” + +“How stupid you are!” said the godfather. “That was the boy and the +maid talking to each other.” “But on the second flight I saw dead +fingers lying.” “Oh, how silly you are! Those were some roots of +scorzonera.” “On the third flight lay a heap of dead men’s heads.” +“Foolish man, those were cabbages.” “On the fourth flight, I saw fishes +in a pan, which were hissing and baking themselves.” When he had said +that, the fishes came and served themselves up. “And when I got to the +fifth flight, I peeped through the keyhole of a door, and there, +godfather, I saw you, and you had long, long horns.” “Oh, that is a +lie!” The man became alarmed, and ran out, and if he had not, who knows +what the godfather would have done to him. + + + +43 Frau Trude + +There was once a little girl who was obstinate and inquisitive, and +when her parents told her to do anything, she did not obey them, so how +could she fare well? One day she said to her parents, “I have heard so +much of Frau Trude, I will go to her some day. People say that +everything about her does look so strange, and that there are such odd +things in her house, that I have become quite curious!” Her parents +absolutely forbade her, and said, “Frau Trude is a bad woman, who does +wicked things, and if thou goest to her; thou art no longer our child.” +But the maiden did not let herself be turned aside by her parent’s +prohibition, and still went to Frau Trude. And when she got to her, +Frau Trude said, “Why art thou so pale?” “Ah,” she replied, and her +whole body trembled, “I have been so terrified at what I have seen.” +“What hast thou seen?” “I saw a black man on your steps.” “That was a +collier.” “Then I saw a green man.” “That was a huntsman.” “After that +I saw a blood-red man.” “That was a butcher.” “Ah, Frau Trude, I was +terrified; I looked through the window and saw not you, but, as I +verily believe, the devil himself with a head of fire.” “Oho!” said +she, “then thou hast seen the witch in her proper costume. I have been +waiting for thee, and wanting thee a long time already; thou shalt give +me some light.” Then she changed the girl into a block of wood, and +threw it into the fire. And when it was in full blaze she sat down +close to it, and warmed herself by it, and said, “That shines bright +for once in a way.” + + + +44 Godfather Death + +A poor man had twelve children and was forced to work night and day to +give them even bread. When therefore the thirteenth came into the +world, he knew not what to do in his trouble, but ran out into the +great highway, and resolved to ask the first person whom he met to be +godfather. The first to meet him was the good God who already knew what +filled his heart, and said to him, “Poor man, I pity thee. I will hold +thy child at its christening, and will take charge of it and make it +happy on earth.” The man said, “Who art thou?” “I am God.” “Then I do +not desire to have thee for a godfather,” said the man; “thou givest to +the rich, and leavest the poor to hunger.” Thus spoke the man, for he +did not know how wisely God apportions riches and poverty. He turned +therefore away from the Lord, and went farther. Then the Devil came to +him and said, “What seekest thou? If thou wilt take me as a godfather +for thy child, I will give him gold in plenty and all the joys of the +world as well.” The man asked, “Who art thou?” “I am the Devil.” “Then +I do not desire to have thee for godfather,” said the man; “thou +deceivest men and leadest them astray.” He went onwards, and then came +Death striding up to him with withered legs, and said, “Take me as +godfather.” The man asked, “Who art thou?” “I am Death, and I make all +equal.” Then said the man, “Thou art the right one, thou takest the +rich as well as the poor, without distinction; thou shalt be +godfather.” Death answered, “I will make thy child rich and famous, for +he who has me for a friend can lack nothing.” The man said, “Next +Sunday is the christening; be there at the right time.” Death appeared +as he had promised, and stood godfather quite in the usual way. + +When the boy had grown up, his godfather one day appeared and bade him +go with him. He led him forth into a forest, and showed him a herb +which grew there, and said, “Now shalt thou receive thy godfather’s +present. I make thee a celebrated physician. When thou art called to a +patient, I will always appear to thee. If I stand by the head of the +sick man, thou mayst say with confidence that thou wilt make him well +again, and if thou givest him of this herb he will recover; but if I +stand by the patient’s feet, he is mine, and thou must say that all +remedies are in vain, and that no physician in the world could save +him. But beware of using the herb against my will, or it might fare ill +with thee.” + +It was not long before the youth was the most famous physician in the +whole world. “He had only to look at the patient and he knew his +condition at once, and if he would recover, or must needs die.” So they +said of him, and from far and wide people came to him, sent for him +when they had any one ill, and gave him so much money that he soon +became a rich man. Now it so befell that the King became ill, and the +physician was summoned, and was to say if recovery were possible. But +when he came to the bed, Death was standing by the feet of the sick +man, and the herb did not grow which could save him. “If I could but +cheat Death for once,” thought the physician, “he is sure to take it +ill if I do, but, as I am his godson, he will shut one eye; I will risk +it.” He therefore took up the sick man, and laid him the other way, so +that now Death was standing by his head. Then he gave the King some of +the herb, and he recovered and grew healthy again. But Death came to +the physician, looking very black and angry, threatened him with his +finger, and said, “Thou hast overreached me; this time I will pardon +it, as thou art my godson; but if thou venturest it again, it will cost +thee thy neck, for I will take thee thyself away with me.” + +Soon afterwards the King’s daughter fell into a severe illness. She was +his only child, and he wept day and night, so that he began to lose the +sight of his eyes, and he caused it to be made known that whosoever +rescued her from death should be her husband and inherit the crown. +When the physician came to the sick girl’s bed, he saw Death by her +feet. He ought to have remembered the warning given by his godfather, +but he was so infatuated by the great beauty of the King’s daughter, +and the happiness of becoming her husband, that he flung all thought to +the winds. He did not see that Death was casting angry glances on him, +that he was raising his hand in the air, and threatening him with his +withered fist. He raised up the sick girl, and placed her head where +her feet had lain. Then he gave her some of the herb, and instantly her +cheeks flushed red, and life stirred afresh in her. + +When Death saw that for a second time he was defrauded of his own +property, he walked up to the physician with long strides, and said, +“All is over with thee, and now the lot falls on thee,” and seized him +so firmly with his ice-cold hand, that he could not resist, and led him +into a cave below the earth. There he saw how thousands and thousands +of candles were burning in countless rows, some large, others +half-sized, others small. Every instant some were extinguished, and +others again burnt up, so that the flames seemed to leap hither and +thither in perpetual change. “See,” said Death, “these are the lights +of men’s lives. The large ones belong to children, the half-sized ones +to married people in their prime, the little ones belong to old people; +but children and young folks likewise have often only a tiny candle.” +“Show me the light of my life,” said the physician, and he thought that +it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end which was +just threatening to go out, and said, “Behold, it is there.” “Ah, dear +godfather,” said the horrified physician, “light a new one for me, do +it for love of me, that I may enjoy my life, be King, and the husband +of the King’s beautiful daughter.” “I cannot,” answered Death, “one +must go out before a new one is lighted.” “Then place the old one on a +new one, that will go on burning at once when the old one has come to +an end,” pleaded the physician. Death behaved as if he were going to +fulfill his wish, and took hold of a tall new candle; but as he desired +to revenge himself, he purposely made a mistake in fixing it, and the +little piece fell down and was extinguished. Immediately the physician +fell on the ground, and now he himself was in the hands of Death. + + + +45 Thumbling as Journeyman + +A certain tailor had a son, who happened to be small, and no bigger +than a Thumb, and on this account he was always called Thumbling. He +had, however, some courage in him, and said to his father, “Father, I +must and will go out into the world.” “That’s right, my son,” said the +old man, and took a long darning-needle and made a knob of sealing-wax +on it at the candle, “and there is a sword for thee to take with thee +on the way.” Then the little tailor wanted to have one more meal with +them, and hopped into the kitchen to see what his lady mother had +cooked for the last time. It was, however, just dished up, and the dish +stood on the hearth. Then he said, “Mother, what is there to eat +to-day?” “See for thyself,” said his mother. So Thumbling jumped on to +the hearth, and peeped into the dish, but as he stretched his neck in +too far the steam from the food caught hold of him, and carried him up +the chimney. He rode about in the air on the steam for a while, until +at length he sank down to the ground again. Now the little tailor was +outside in the wide world, and he travelled about, and went to a master +in his craft, but the food was not good enough for him. “Mistress, if +you give us no better food,” said Thumbling, “I will go away, and early +to-morrow morning I will write with chalk on the door of your house, +‘Too many potatoes, too little meat! Farewell, Mr. Potato-King.’” “What +wouldst thou have forsooth, grasshopper?” said the mistress, and grew +angry, and seized a dishcloth, and was just going to strike him; but my +little tailor crept nimbly under a thimble, peeped out from beneath it, +and put his tongue out at the mistress. She took up the thimble, and +wanted to get hold of him, but little Thumbling hopped into the cloth, +and while the mistress was opening it out and looking for him, he got +into a crevice in the table. “Ho, ho, lady mistress,” cried he, and +thrust his head out, and when she began to strike him he leapt down +into the drawer. At last, however, she caught him and drove him out of +the house. + +The little tailor journeyed on and came to a great forest, and there he +fell in with a band of robbers who had a design to steal the King’s +treasure. When they saw the little tailor, they thought, “A little +fellow like that can creep through a key-hole and serve as picklock to +us.” “Hollo,” cried one of them, “thou giant Goliath, wilt thou go to +the treasure-chamber with us? Thou canst slip thyself in and throw out +the money.” Thumbling reflected a while, and at length he said, “yes,” +and went with them to the treasure-chamber. Then he looked at the doors +above and below, to see if there was any crack in them. It was not long +before he espied one which was broad enough to let him in. He was +therefore about to get in at once, but one of the two sentries who +stood before the door, observed him, and said to the other, “What an +ugly spider is creeping there; I will kill it.” “Let the poor creature +alone,” said the other; “it has done thee no harm.” Then Thumbling got +safely through the crevice into the treasure-chamber, opened the window +beneath which the robbers were standing, and threw out to them one +thaler after another. When the little tailor was in the full swing of +his work, he heard the King coming to inspect his treasure-chamber, and +crept hastily into a hiding-place. The King noticed that several solid +thalers were missing, but could not conceive who could have stolen +them, for locks and bolts were in good condition, and all seemed well +guarded. Then he went away again, and said to the sentries, “Be on the +watch, some one is after the money.” When therefore Thumbling +recommenced his labours, they heard the money moving, and a sound of +klink, klink, klink. They ran swiftly in to seize the thief, but the +little tailor, who heard them coming, was still swifter, and leapt into +a corner and covered himself with a thaler, so that nothing could be +seen of him, and at the same time he mocked the sentries and cried, +“Here am I!” The sentries ran thither, but as they got there, he had +already hopped into another corner under a thaler, and was crying, “Ho, +ho, here am I!” The watchmen sprang there in haste, but Thumbling had +long ago got into a third corner, and was crying, “Ho, ho, here am I!” +And thus he made fools of them, and drove them so long round about the +treasure-chamber that they were weary and went away. Then by degrees he +threw all the thalers out, dispatching the last with all his might, +then hopped nimbly upon it, and flew down with it through the window. +The robbers paid him great compliments. “Thou art a valiant hero,” said +they; “wilt thou be our captain?” + +Thumbling, however, declined, and said he wanted to see the world +first. They now divided the booty, but the little tailor only asked for +a kreuzer because he could not carry more. + +Then he once more buckled on his sword, bade the robbers goodbye, and +took to the road. First, he went to work with some masters, but he had +no liking for that, and at last he hired himself as man-servant in an +inn. The maids, however, could not endure him, for he saw all they did +secretly, without their seeing him, and he told their master and +mistress what they had taken off the plates, and carried away out of +the cellar, for themselves. Then said they, “Wait, and we will pay thee +off!” and arranged with each other to play him a trick. Soon afterwards +when one of the maids was mowing in the garden, and saw Thumbling +jumping about and creeping up and down the plants, she mowed him up +quickly with the grass, tied all in a great cloth, and secretly threw +it to the cows. Now amongst them there was a great black one, who +swallowed him down without hurting him. Down below, however, it pleased +him ill, for it was quite dark, neither was any candle burning. When +the cow was being milked he cried, + +“Strip, strap, strull, +Will the pail soon be full?” + + +But the noise of the milking prevented his being understood. After this +the master of the house came into the cow-byre and said, “That cow +shall be killed to-morrow.” Then Thumbling was so alarmed that he cried +out in a clear voice, “Let me out first, for I am shut up inside her.” +The master heard that quite well, but did not know from whence the +voice came. “Where art thou?” asked he. “In the black one,” answered +Thumbling, but the master did not understand what that meant, and went +out. + +Next morning the cow was killed. Happily Thumbling did not meet with +one blow at the cutting up and chopping; he got among the sausage-meat. +And when the butcher came in and began his work, he cried out with all +his might, “Don’t chop too deep, don’t chop too deep, I am amongst it.” +No one heard this because of the noise of the chopping-knife. Now poor +Thumbling was in trouble, but trouble sharpens the wits, and he sprang +out so adroitly between the blows that none of them touched him, and he +escaped with a whole skin. But still he could not get away, there was +nothing for it but to let himself be thrust into a black-pudding with +the bits of bacon. His quarters there were rather confined, and besides +that he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked, and there time did +hang terribly heavy on his hands. + +At length in winter he was taken down again, as the black-pudding had +to be set before a guest. When the hostess was cutting it in slices, he +took care not to stretch out his head too far lest a bit of it should +be cut off; at last he saw his opportunity, cleared a passage for +himself, and jumped out. + +The little tailor, however, would not stay any longer in a house where +he fared so ill, so at once set out on his journey again. But his +liberty did not last long. In the open country he met with a fox who +snapped him up in a fit of absence. “Hollo, Mr. Fox,” cried the little +tailor, “it is I who am sticking in your throat, set me at liberty +again.” “Thou art right,” answered the fox. “Thou art next to nothing +for me, but if thou wilt promise me the fowls in thy father’s yard I +will let thee go.” “With all my heart,” replied Thumbling. “Thou shalt +have all the cocks and hens, that I promise thee.” Then the fox let him +go again, and himself carried him home. When the father once more saw +his dear son, he willingly gave the fox all the fowls which he had. +“For this I likewise bring thee a handsome bit of money,” said +Thumbling, and gave his father the kreuzer which he earned on his +travels. + +“But why did the fox get the poor chickens to eat?” “Oh, you goose, +your father would surely love his child far more than the fowls in the +yard!” + + + +46 Fitcher’s Bird + +There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor man, and +went to houses and begged, and caught pretty girls. No one knew whither +he carried them, for they were never seen more. One day he appeared +before the door of a man who had three pretty daughters; he looked like +a poor weak beggar, and carried a basket on his back, as if he meant to +collect charitable gifts in it. He begged for a little food, and when +the eldest daughter came out and was just reaching him a piece of +bread, he did but touch her, and she was forced to jump into his +basket. Thereupon he hurried away with long strides, and carried her +away into a dark forest to his house, which stood in the midst of it. +Everything in the house was magnificent; he gave her whatsoever she +could possibly desire, and said, “My darling, thou wilt certainly be +happy with me, for thou hast everything thy heart can wish for.” This +lasted a few days, and then he said, “I must journey forth, and leave +thee alone for a short time; there are the keys of the house; thou +mayst go everywhere and look at everything except into one room, which +this little key here opens, and there I forbid thee to go on pain of +death.” He likewise gave her an egg and said, “Preserve the egg +carefully for me, and carry it continually about with thee, for a great +misfortune would arise from the loss of it.” + +She took the keys and the egg, and promised to obey him in everything. +When he was gone, she went all round the house from the bottom to the +top, and examined everything. The rooms shone with silver and gold, and +she thought she had never seen such great splendour. At length she came +to the forbidden door; she wished to pass it by, but curiosity let her +have no rest. She examined the key, it looked just like any other; she +put it in the keyhole and turned it a little, and the door sprang open. +But what did she see when she went in? A great bloody basin stood in +the middle of the room, and therein lay human beings, dead and hewn to +pieces, and hard by was a block of wood, and a gleaming axe lay upon +it. She was so terribly alarmed that the egg which she held in her hand +fell into the basin. She got it out and washed the blood off, but in +vain, it appeared again in a moment. She washed and scrubbed, but she +could not get it out. + +It was not long before the man came back from his journey, and the +first things which he asked for were the key and the egg. She gave them +to him, but she trembled as she did so, and he saw at once by the red +spots that she had been in the bloody chamber. “Since thou hast gone +into the room against my will,” said he, “thou shalt go back into it +against thine own. Thy life is ended.” He threw her down, dragged her +thither by her hair, cut her head off on the block, and hewed her in +pieces so that her blood ran on the ground. Then he threw her into the +basin with the rest. + +“Now I will fetch myself the second,” said the wizard, and again he +went to the house in the shape of a poor man, and begged. Then the +second daughter brought him a piece of bread; he caught her like the +first, by simply touching her, and carried her away. She did not fare +better than her sister. She allowed herself to be led away by her +curiosity, opened the door of the bloody chamber, looked in, and had to +atone for it with her life on the wizard’s return. Then he went and +brought the third sister, but she was clever and crafty. When he had +given her the keys and the egg, and had left her, she first put the egg +away with great care, and then she examined the house, and at last went +into the forbidden room. Alas, what did she behold! Both her sisters +lay there in the basin, cruelly murdered, and cut in pieces. But she +began to gather their limbs together and put them in order, head, body, +arms and legs. And when nothing further was wanting the limbs began to +move and unite themselves together, and both the maidens opened their +eyes and were once more alive. Then they rejoiced and kissed and +caressed each other. + +On his arrival, the man at once demanded the keys and the egg, and as +he could perceive no trace of any blood on it, he said, “Thou hast +stood the test, thou shalt be my bride.” He now had no longer any power +over her, and was forced to do whatsoever she desired. “Oh, very well,” +said she, “thou shalt first take a basketful of gold to my father and +mother, and carry it thyself on thy back; in the meantime I will +prepare for the wedding.” Then she ran to her sisters, whom she had +hidden in a little chamber, and said, “The moment has come when I can +save you. The wretch shall himself carry you home again, but as soon as +you are at home send help to me.” She put both of them in a basket and +covered them quite over with gold, so that nothing of them was to be +seen, then she called in the wizard and said to him, “Now carry the +basket away, but I shall look through my little window and watch to see +if thou stoppest on the way to stand or to rest.” + +The wizard raised the basket on his back and went away with it, but it +weighed him down so heavily that the perspiration streamed from his +face. Then he sat down and wanted to rest awhile, but immediately one +of the girls in the basket cried, “I am looking through my little +window, and I see that thou art resting. Wilt thou go on at once?” He +thought it was his bride who was calling that to him; and got up on his +legs again. Once more he was going to sit down, but instantly she +cried, “I am looking through my little window, and I see that thou art +resting. Wilt thou go on directly?” And whenever he stood still, she +cried this, and then he was forced to go onwards, until at last, +groaning and out of breath, he took the basket with the gold and the +two maidens into their parents’ house. At home, however, the bride +prepared the marriage-feast, and sent invitations to the friends of the +wizard. Then she took a skull with grinning teeth, put some ornaments +on it and a wreath of flowers, carried it upstairs to the +garret-window, and let it look out from thence. When all was ready, she +got into a barrel of honey, and then cut the feather-bed open and +rolled herself in it, until she looked like a wondrous bird, and no one +could recognize her. Then she went out of the house, and on her way she +met some of the wedding-guests, who asked, + +“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?” +“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.” +“And what may the young bride be doing?” +“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean, +And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.” + + +At last she met the bridegroom, who was coming slowly back. He, like +the others, asked, + +“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?” +“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.” +“And what may the young bride be doing? +“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean, +And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.” + + +The bridegroom looked up, saw the decked-out skull, thought it was his +bride, and nodded to her, greeting her kindly. But when he and his +guests had all gone into the house, the brothers and kinsmen of the +bride, who had been sent to rescue her, arrived. They locked all the +doors of the house, that no one might escape, set fire to it, and the +wizard and all his crew had to burn. + + + +47 The Juniper-Tree + +It is now long ago, quite two thousand years, since there was a rich +man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other +dearly. They had, however, no children, though they wished for them +very much, and the woman prayed for them day and night, but still they +had none. Now there was a court-yard in front of their house in which +was a juniper-tree, and one day in winter the woman was standing +beneath it, paring herself an apple, and while she was paring herself +the apple she cut her finger, and the blood fell on the snow. “Ah,” +said the woman, and sighed right heavily, and looked at the blood +before her, and was most unhappy, “ah, if I had but a child as red as +blood and as white as snow!” And while she thus spake, she became quite +happy in her mind, and felt just as if that were going to happen. Then +she went into the house and a month went by and the snow was gone, and +two months, and then everything was green, and three months, and then +all the flowers came out of the earth, and four months, and then all +the trees in the wood grew thicker, and the green branches were all +closely entwined, and the birds sang until the wood resounded and the +blossoms fell from the trees, then the fifth month passed away and she +stood under the juniper-tree, which smelt so sweetly that her heart +leapt, and she fell on her knees and was beside herself with joy, and +when the sixth month was over the fruit was large and fine, and then +she was quite still, and the seventh month she snatched at the +juniper-berries and ate them greedily, then she grew sick and +sorrowful, then the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to +her, and wept and said, “If I die then bury me beneath the +juniper-tree.” Then she was quite comforted and happy until the next +month was over, and then she had a child as white as snow and as red as +blood, and when she beheld it she was so delighted that she died. + +Then her husband buried her beneath the juniper-tree, and he began to +weep sore; after some time he was more at ease, and though he still +wept he could bear it, and after some time longer he took another wife. + +By the second wife he had a daughter, but the first wife’s child was a +little son, and he was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the +woman looked at her daughter she loved her very much, but then she +looked at the little boy and it seemed to cut her to the heart, for the +thought came into her mind that he would always stand in her way, and +she was for ever thinking how she could get all the fortune for her +daughter, and the Evil One filled her mind with this till she was quite +wroth with the little boy, and slapped him here and cuffed him there, +until the unhappy child was in continual terror, for when he came out +of school he had no peace in any place. + +One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, and her little +daughter went up too, and said, “Mother, give me an apple.” “Yes, my +child,” said the woman, and gave her a fine apple out of the chest, but +the chest had a great heavy lid with a great sharp iron lock. “Mother,” +said the little daughter, “is brother not to have one too?” This made +the woman angry, but she said, “Yes, when he comes out of school.” And +when she saw from the window that he was coming, it was just as if the +Devil entered into her, and she snatched at the apple and took it away +again from her daughter, and said, “Thou shalt not have one before thy +brother.” Then she threw the apple into the chest, and shut it. Then +the little boy came in at the door, and the Devil made her say to him +kindly, “My son, wilt thou have an apple?” and she looked wickedly at +him. “Mother,” said the little boy, “how dreadful you look! Yes, give +me an apple.” Then it seemed to her as if she were forced to say to +him, “Come with me,” and she opened the lid of the chest and said, +“Take out an apple for thyself,” and while the little boy was stooping +inside, the Devil prompted her, and crash! she shut the lid down, and +his head flew off and fell among the red apples. Then she was +overwhelmed with terror, and thought, “If I could but make them think +that it was not done by me!” So she went upstairs to her room to her +chest of drawers, and took a white handkerchief out of the top drawer, +and set the head on the neck again, and folded the handkerchief so that +nothing could be seen, and she set him on a chair in front of the door, +and put the apple in his hand. + +After this Marlinchen came into the kitchen to her mother, who was +standing by the fire with a pan of hot water before her which she was +constantly stirring round. “Mother,” said Marlinchen, “brother is +sitting at the door, and he looks quite white and has an apple in his +hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I +was quite frightened.” “Go back to him,” said her mother, “and if he +will not answer thee, give him a box on the ear.” So Marlinchen went to +him and said, “Brother, give me the apple.” But he was silent, and she +gave him a box on the ear, on which his head fell down. Marlinchen was +terrified, and began crying and screaming, and ran to her mother, and +said, “Alas, mother, I have knocked my brother’s head off!” and she +wept and wept and could not be comforted. “Marlinchen,” said the +mother, “what hast thou done? but be quiet and let no one know it; it +cannot be helped now, we will make him into black-puddings.” Then the +mother took the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the +pan and made him into black puddings; but Marlinchen stood by weeping +and weeping, and all her tears fell into the pan and there was no need +of any salt. + +Then the father came home, and sat down to dinner and said, “But where +is my son?” And the mother served up a great dish of black-puddings, +and Marlinchen wept and could not leave off. Then the father again +said, “But where is my son?” “Ah,” said the mother, “he has gone across +the country to his mother’s great uncle; he will stay there awhile.” +“And what is he going to do there? He did not even say good-bye to me.” + +“Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stay six weeks, he is +well taken care of there.” “Ah,” said the man, “I feel so unhappy lest +all should not be right. He ought to have said good-bye to me.” With +that he began to eat and said, “Marlinchen, why art thou crying? Thy +brother will certainly come back.” Then he said, “Ah, wife, how +delicious this food is, give me some more.” And the more he ate the +more he wanted to have, and he said, “Give me some more, you shall have +none of it. It seems to me as if it were all mine.” And he ate and ate +and threw all the bones under the table, until he had finished the +whole. But Marlinchen went away to her chest of drawers, and took her +best silk handkerchief out of the bottom drawer, and got all the bones +from beneath the table, and tied them up in her silk handkerchief, and +carried them outside the door, weeping tears of blood. Then the +juniper-tree began to stir itself, and the branches parted asunder, and +moved together again, just as if some one was rejoicing and clapping +his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to arise from the tree, and +in the centre of this mist it burned like a fire, and a beautiful bird +flew out of the fire singing magnificently, and he flew high up in the +air, and when he was gone, the juniper-tree was just as it had been +before, and the handkerchief with the bones was no longer there. +Marlinchen, however, was as gay and happy as if her brother were still +alive. And she went merrily into the house, and sat down to dinner and +ate. + +But the bird flew away and lighted on a goldsmith’s house, and began to +sing, + +“My mother she killed me, +My father he ate me, +My sister, little Marlinchen, +Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a gold chain, when he +heard the bird which was sitting singing on his roof, and very +beautiful the song seemed to him. He stood up, but as he crossed the +threshold he lost one of his slippers. But he went away right up the +middle of the street with one shoe on and one sock; he had his apron +on, and in one hand he had the gold chain and in the other the pincers, +and the sun was shining brightly on the street. Then he went right on +and stood still, and said to the bird, “Bird,” said he then, “how +beautifully thou canst sing! Sing me that piece again.” “No,” said the +bird, “I’ll not sing it twice for nothing! Give me the golden chain, +and then I will sing it again for thee.” “There,” said the goldsmith, +“there is the golden chain for thee, now sing me that song again.” Then +the bird came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and went and +sat in front of the goldsmith, and sang, + +“My mother she killed me, +My father he ate me, +My sister, little Marlinchen, +Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lighted on his roof and +sang, + +“My mother she killed me, +My father he ate me, +My sister, little Marlinchen, +Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +The shoemaker heard that and ran out of doors in his shirt sleeves, and +looked up at his roof, and was forced to hold his hand before his eyes +lest the sun should blind him. “Bird,” said he, “how beautifully thou +canst sing!” Then he called in at his door, “Wife, just come outside, +there is a bird, look at that bird, he just can sing well.” Then he +called his daughter and children, and apprentices, boys and girls, and +they all came up the street and looked at the bird and saw how +beautiful he was, and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how +like real gold his neck was, and how the eyes in his head shone like +stars. “Bird,” said the shoemaker, “now sing me that song again.” +“Nay,” said the bird, “I do not sing twice for nothing; thou must give +me something.” “Wife,” said the man, “go to the garret, upon the top +shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, bring them down.” Then the wife +went and brought the shoes. “There, bird,” said the man, “now sing me +that piece again.” Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left +claw, and flew back on the roof, and sang, + +“My mother she killed me, +My father he ate me, +My sister, little Marlinchen, +Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +And when he had sung the whole he flew away. In his right claw he had +the chain and the shoes in his left, and he flew far away to a mill, +and the mill went, “klipp klapp, klipp klapp, klipp klapp,” and in the +mill sat twenty miller’s men hewing a stone, and cutting, hick hack, +hick hack, hick hack, and the mill went klipp klapp, klipp klapp, klipp +klapp. Then the bird went and sat on a lime-tree which stood in front +of the mill, and sang, + +“My mother she killed me,” + + +Then one of them stopped working, + +“My father he ate me.” + + +Then two more stopped working and listened to that, + +“My sister, little Marlinchen,” + + +Then four more stopped, + +“Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief,” + + +Now eight only were hewing, + +“Laid them beneath” + + +Now only five, + +“The juniper-tree,” + + +And now only one, + +“Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +Then the last stopped also, and heard the last words. “Bird,” said he, +“how beautifully thou singest! Let me, too, hear that. Sing that once +more for me.” + +“Nay,” said the bird, “I will not sing twice for nothing. Give me the +millstone, and then I will sing it again.” + +“Yes,” said he, “if it belonged to me only, thou shouldst have it.” + +“Yes,” said the others, “if he sings again he shall have it.” Then the +bird came down, and the twenty millers all set to work with a beam and +raised the stone up. And the bird stuck his neck through the hole, and +put the stone on as if it were a collar, and flew on to the tree again, +and sang, + +“My mother she killed me, +My father he ate me, +My sister, little Marlinchen, +Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +And when he had done singing, he spread his wings, and in his right +claw he had the chain, and in his left the shoes, and round his neck +the millstone, and he flew far away to his father’s house. + +In the room sat the father, the mother, and Marlinchen at dinner, and +the father said, “How light-hearted I feel, how happy I am!” “Nay,” +said the mother, “I feel so uneasy, just as if a heavy storm were +coming.” Marlinchen, however, sat weeping and weeping, and then came +the bird flying, and as it seated itself on the roof the father said, +“Ah, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is shining so beautifully +outside, I feel just as if I were about to see some old friend again.” +“Nay,” said the woman, “I feel so anxious, my teeth chatter, and I seem +to have fire in my veins.” And she tore her stays open, but Marlinchen +sat in a corner crying, and held her plate before her eyes and cried +till it was quite wet. Then the bird sat on the juniper tree, and sang, + +“My mother she killed me,” + + +Then the mother stopped her ears, and shut her eyes, and would not see +or hear, but there was a roaring in her ears like the most violent +storm, and her eyes burnt and flashed like lightning, + +“My father he ate me,” + + +“Ah, mother,” says the man, “that is a beautiful bird! He sings so +splendidly, and the sun shines so warm, and there is a smell just like +cinnamon.” + +“My sister, little Marlinchen,” + + +Then Marlinchen laid her head on her knees and wept without ceasing, +but the man said, “I am going out, I must see the bird quite close.” +“Oh, don’t go,” said the woman, “I feel as if the whole house were +shaking and on fire.” But the man went out and looked at the bird: + +“Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief, +Laid them beneath the juniper tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +On this the bird let the golden chain fall, and it fell exactly round +the man’s neck, and so exactly round it that it fitted beautifully. +Then he went in and said, “Just look what a fine bird that is, and what +a handsome gold chain he has given me, and how pretty he is!” But the +woman was terrified, and fell down on the floor in the room, and her +cap fell off her head. Then sang the bird once more, + +“My mother she killed me.” + + +“Would that I were a thousand feet beneath the earth so as not to hear +that!” + +“My father he ate me,” + + +Then the woman fell down again as if dead. + +“My sister, little Marlinchen,” + + +“Ah,” said Marlinchen, “I too will go out and see if the bird will give +me anything,” and she went out. + +“Gathered together all my bones, +Tied them in a silken handkerchief,” + + +Then he threw down the shoes to her. + +“Laid them beneath the juniper-tree, +Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!” + + +Then she was light-hearted and joyous, and she put on the new red +shoes, and danced and leaped into the house. “Ah,” said she, “I was so +sad when I went out and now I am so light-hearted; that is a splendid +bird, he has given me a pair of red shoes!” “Well,” said the woman, and +sprang to her feet and her hair stood up like flames of fire, “I feel +as if the world were coming to an end! I, too, will go out and see if +my heart feels lighter.” And as she went out at the door, crash! the +bird threw down the millstone on her head, and she was entirely crushed +by it. The father and Marlinchen heard what had happened and went out, +and smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and when that +was over, there stood the little brother, and he took his father and +Marlinchen by the hand, and all three were right glad, and they went +into the house to dinner, and ate. + + + +48 Old Sultan + +A farmer once had a faithful dog called Sultan, who had grown old, and +lost all his teeth, so that he could no longer hold anything fast. One +day the farmer was standing with his wife before the house-door, and +said, “To-morrow I intend to shoot Old Sultan, he is no longer of any +use.” + +His wife, who felt pity for the faithful beast, answered, “He has +served us so long, and been so faithful, that we might well give him +his keep.” + +“Eh! what?” said the man. “You are not very sharp. He has not a tooth +left in his mouth, and not a thief is afraid of him; now he may be off. +If he has served us, he has had good feeding for it.” + +The poor dog, who was lying stretched out in the sun not far off, had +heard everything, and was sorry that the morrow was to be his last day. +He had a good friend, the wolf, and he crept out in the evening into +the forest to him, and complained of the fate that awaited him. “Hark +ye, gossip,” said the wolf, “be of good cheer, I will help you out of +your trouble. I have thought of something. To-morrow, early in the +morning, your master is going with his wife to make hay, and they will +take their little child with them, for no one will be left behind in +the house. They are wont, during work-time, to lay the child under the +hedge in the shade; you lay yourself there too, just as if you wished +to guard it. Then I will come out of the wood, and carry off the child. +You must rush swiftly after me, as if you would seize it again from me. +I will let it fall, and you will take it back to its parents, who will +think that you have saved it, and will be far too grateful to do you +any harm; on the contrary, you will be in high favor, and they will +never let you want for anything again.” + +The plan pleased the dog, and it was carried out just as it was +arranged. The father screamed when he saw the Wolf running across the +field with his child, but when Old Sultan brought it back, then he was +full of joy, and stroked him and said, “Not a hair of yours shall be +hurt, you shall eat my bread free as long as you live.” And to his wife +he said, “Go home at once and make Old Sultan some bread-sop that he +will not have to bite, and bring the pillow out of my bed, I will give +him that to lie upon.” + +Henceforth Old Sultan was as well off as he could wish to be. + +Soon afterwards the wolf visited him, and was pleased that everything +had succeeded so well. “But, gossip,” said he, “you will just wink an +eye if when I have a chance, I carry off one of your master’s fat +sheep.” “Do not reckon upon that,” answered the dog; “I will remain +true to my master; I cannot agree to that.” The wolf, who thought that +this could not be spoken in earnest, came creeping about in the night +and was going to take away the sheep. But the farmer, to whom the +faithful Sultan had told the wolf’s plan, caught him and dressed his +hide soundly with the flail. The wolf had to pack off, but he cried out +to the dog, “Wait a bit, you scoundrel, you shall pay for this.” + +The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge the dog to come +out into the forest so that they might settle the affair. Old Sultan +could find no one to stand by him but a cat with only three legs, and +as they went out together the poor cat limped along, and at the same +time stretched out her tail into the air with pain. + +The wolf and his friend were already on the spot appointed, but when +they saw their enemy coming they thought that he was bringing a sabre +with him, for they mistook the outstretched tail of the cat for one. +And when the poor beast hopped on its three legs, they could only think +every time that it was picking up a stone to throw at them. So they +were both afraid; the wild boar crept into the under-wood and the wolf +jumped up a tree. + +The dog and the cat, when they came up, wondered that there was no one +to be seen. The wild boar, however, had not been able to hide himself +altogether; and one of his ears was still to be seen. Whilst the cat +was looking carefully about, the boar moved his ear; the cat, who +thought it was a mouse moving there, jumped upon it and bit it hard. +The boar made a fearful noise and ran away, crying out, “The guilty one +is up in the tree.” The dog and cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was +ashamed of having shown himself so timid, and made friends with the +dog. + + + +49 The Six Swans + +Once upon a time, a certain King was hunting in a great forest, and he +chased a wild beast so eagerly that none of his attendants could follow +him. When evening drew near he stopped and looked around him, and then +he saw that he had lost his way. He sought a way out, but could find +none. Then he perceived an aged woman with a head which nodded +perpetually, who came towards him, but she was a witch. “Good woman,” +said he to her, “Can you not show me the way through the forest?” “Oh, +yes, Lord King,” she answered, “that I certainly can, but on one +condition, and if you do not fulfil that, you will never get out of the +forest, and will die of hunger in it.” + +“What kind of condition is it?” asked the King. + +“I have a daughter,” said the old woman, “who is as beautiful as any +one in the world, and well deserves to be your consort, and if you will +make her your Queen, I will show you the way out of the forest.” In the +anguish of his heart the King consented, and the old woman led him to +her little hut, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She +received the King as if she had been expecting him, and he saw that she +was very beautiful, but still she did not please him, and he could not +look at her without secret horror. After he had taken the maiden up on +his horse, the old woman showed him the way, and the King reached his +royal palace again, where the wedding was celebrated. + +The King had already been married once, and had by his first wife, +seven children, six boys and a girl, whom he loved better than anything +else in the world. As he now feared that the step-mother might not +treat them well, and even do them some injury, he took them to a lonely +castle which stood in the midst of a forest. It lay so concealed, and +the way was so difficult to find that he himself would not have found +it, if a wise woman had not given him a ball of yarn with wonderful +properties. When he threw it down before him, it unrolled itself and +showed him his path. The King, however, went so frequently away to his +dear children that the Queen observed his absence; she was curious and +wanted to know what he did when he was quite alone in the forest. She +gave a great deal of money to his servants, and they betrayed the +secret to her, and told her likewise of the ball which alone could +point out the way. And now she knew no rest until she had learnt where +the King kept the ball of yarn, and then she made little shirts of +white silk, and as she had learnt the art of witchcraft from her +mother, she sewed a charm inside them. And once when the King had +ridden forth to hunt, she took the little shirts and went into the +forest, and the ball showed her the way. The children, who saw from a +distance that some one was approaching, thought that their dear father +was coming to them, and full of joy, ran to meet him. Then she threw +one of the little shirts over each of them, and no sooner had the +shirts touched their bodies than they were changed into swans, and flew +away over the forest. The Queen went home quite delighted, and thought +she had got rid of her step-children, but the girl had not run out with +her brothers, and the Queen knew nothing about her. Next day the King +went to visit his children, but he found no one but the little girl. +“Where are thy brothers?” asked the King. “Alas, dear father,” she +answered, “they have gone away and left me alone!” and she told him +that she had seen from her little window how her brothers had flown +away over the forest in the shape of swans, and she showed him the +feathers, which they had let fall in the courtyard, and which she had +picked up. The King mourned, but he did not think that the Queen had +done this wicked deed, and as he feared that the girl would also be +stolen away from him, he wanted to take her away with him. But she was +afraid of her step-mother, and entreated the King to let her stay just +this one night more in the forest castle. + +The poor girl thought, “I can no longer stay here. I will go and seek +my brothers.” And when night came, she ran away, and went straight into +the forest. She walked the whole night long, and next day also without +stopping, until she could go no farther for weariness. Then she saw a +forest-hut, and went into it, and found a room with six little beds, +but she did not venture to get into one of them, but crept under one, +and lay down on the hard ground, intending to pass the night there. +Just before sunset, however, she heard a rustling, and saw six swans +come flying in at the window. They alighted on the ground and blew at +each other, and blew all the feathers off, and their swan’s skins +stripped off like a shirt. Then the maiden looked at them and +recognized her brothers, was glad and crept forth from beneath the bed. +The brothers were not less delighted to see their little sister, but +their joy was of short duration. “Here canst thou not abide,” they said +to her. “This is a shelter for robbers, if they come home and find +thee, they will kill thee.” “But can you not protect me?” asked the +little sister. “No,” they replied, “only for one quarter of an hour +each evening can we lay aside our swan’s skins and have during that +time our human form; after that, we are once more turned into swans.” +The little sister wept and said, “Can you not be set free?” “Alas, no,” +they answered, “the conditions are too hard! For six years thou mayst +neither speak nor laugh, and in that time thou must sew together six +little shirts of starwort for us. And if one single word falls from thy +lips, all thy work will be lost.” And when the brothers had said this, +the quarter of an hour was over, and they flew out of the window again +as swans. + +The maiden, however, firmly resolved to deliver her brothers, even if +it should cost her her life. She left the hut, went into the midst of +the forest, seated herself on a tree, and there passed the night. Next +morning she went out and gathered starwort and began to sew. She could +not speak to any one, and she had no inclination to laugh; she sat +there and looked at nothing but her work. When she had already spent a +long time there it came to pass that the King of the country was +hunting in the forest, and his huntsmen came to the tree on which the +maiden was sitting. They called to her and said, “Who art thou?” But +she made no answer. “Come down to us,” said they. “We will not do thee +any harm.” She only shook her head. As they pressed her further with +questions she threw her golden necklace down to them, and thought to +content them thus. They, however, did not cease, and then she threw her +girdle down to them, and as this also was to no purpose, her garters, +and by degrees everything that she had on that she could do without +until she had nothing left but her shift. The huntsmen, however, did +not let themselves be turned aside by that, but climbed the tree and +fetched the maiden down and led her before the King. The King asked, +“Who art thou? What art thou doing on the tree?” But she did not +answer. He put the question in every language that he knew, but she +remained as mute as a fish. As she was so beautiful, the King’s heart +was touched, and he was smitten with a great love for her. He put his +mantle on her, took her before him on his horse, and carried her to his +castle. Then he caused her to be dressed in rich garments, and she +shone in her beauty like bright daylight, but no word could be drawn +from her. He placed her by his side at table, and her modest bearing +and courtesy pleased him so much that he said, “She is the one whom I +wish to marry, and no other woman in the world.” And after some days he +united himself to her. + +The King, however, had a wicked mother who was dissatisfied with this +marriage and spoke ill of the young Queen. “Who knows,” said she, “from +whence the creature who can’t speak, comes? She is not worthy of a +king!” After a year had passed, when the Queen brought her first child +into the world, the old woman took it away from her, and smeared her +mouth with blood as she slept. Then she went to the King and accused +the Queen of being a man-eater. The King would not believe it, and +would not suffer any one to do her any injury. She, however, sat +continually sewing at the shirts, and cared for nothing else. The next +time, when she again bore a beautiful boy, the false step-mother used +the same treachery, but the King could not bring himself to give credit +to her words. He said, “She is too pious and good to do anything of +that kind; if she were not dumb, and could defend herself, her +innocence would come to light.” But when the old woman stole away the +newly-born child for the third time, and accused the Queen, who did not +utter one word of defence, the King could do no otherwise than deliver +her over to justice, and she was sentenced to suffer death by fire. + +When the day came for the sentence to be executed, it was the last day +of the six years during which she was not to speak or laugh, and she +had delivered her dear brothers from the power of the enchantment. The +six shirts were ready, only the left sleeve of the sixth was wanting. +When, therefore, she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her +arm, and when she stood on high and the fire was just going to be +lighted, she looked around and six swans came flying through the air +towards her. Then she saw that her deliverance was near, and her heart +leapt with joy. The swans swept towards her and sank down so that she +could throw the shirts over them, and as they were touched by them, +their swan’s skins fell off, and her brothers stood in their own bodily +form before her, and were vigorous and handsome. The youngest only +lacked his left arm, and had in the place of it a swan’s wing on his +shoulder. They embraced and kissed each other, and the Queen went to +the King, who was greatly moved, and she began to speak and said, +“Dearest husband, now I may speak and declare to thee that I am +innocent, and falsely accused.” And she told him of the treachery of +the old woman who had taken away her three children and hidden them. +Then to the great joy of the King they were brought thither, and as a +punishment, the wicked step-mother was bound to the stake, and burnt to +ashes. But the King and the Queen with their six brothers lived many +years in happiness and peace. + + + +50 Briar-Rose + +A long time ago there were a King and Queen who said every day, “Ah, if +only we had a child!” but they never had one. But it happened that once +when the Queen was bathing, a frog crept out of the water on to the +land, and said to her, “Your wish shall be fulfilled; before a year has +gone by, you shall have a daughter.” + +What the frog had said came true, and the Queen had a little girl who +was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and +ordered a great feast. He invited not only his kindred, friends and +acquaintance, but also the Wise Women, in order that they might be kind +and well-disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them in his +kingdom, but, as he had only twelve golden plates for them to eat out +of, one of them had to be left at home. + +The feast was held with all manner of splendour and when it came to an +end the Wise Women bestowed their magic gifts upon the baby: one gave +virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on with everything in +the world that one can wish for. + +When eleven of them had made their promises, suddenly the thirteenth +came in. She wished to avenge herself for not having been invited, and +without greeting, or even looking at any one, she cried with a loud +voice, “The King’s daughter shall in her fifteenth year prick herself +with a spindle, and fall down dead.” And, without saying a word more, +she turned round and left the room. + +They were all shocked; but the twelfth, whose good wish still remained +unspoken, came forward, and as she could not undo the evil sentence, +but only soften it, she said, “It shall not be death, but a deep sleep +of a hundred years, into which the princess shall fall.” + +The King, who would fain keep his dear child from the misfortune, gave +orders that every spindle in the whole kingdom should be burnt. +Meanwhile the gifts of the Wise Women were plenteously fulfilled on the +young girl, for she was so beautiful, modest, good-natured, and wise, +that everyone who saw her was bound to love her. + +It happened that on the very day when she was fifteen years old, the +King and Queen were not at home, and the maiden was left in the palace +quite alone. So she went round into all sorts of places, looked into +rooms and bed-chambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old +tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a +little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the +door sprang open, and there in a little room sat an old woman with a +spindle, busily spinning her flax. + +“Good day, old dame,” said the King’s daughter; “what are you doing +there?” “I am spinning,” said the old woman, and nodded her head. “What +sort of thing is that, that rattles round so merrily?” said the girl, +and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she +touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she +pricked her finger with it. + +And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the +bed that stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep extended +over the whole palace; the King and Queen who had just come home, and +had entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the whole of the +court with them. The horses, too, went to sleep in the stable, the dogs +in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall; even the +fire that was flaming on the hearth became quiet and slept, the roast +meat left off frizzling, and the cook, who was just going to pull the +hair of the scullery boy, because he had forgotten something, let him +go, and went to sleep. And the wind fell, and on the trees before the +castle not a leaf moved again. + +But round about the castle there began to grow a hedge of thorns, which +every year became higher, and at last grew close up round the castle +and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even +the flag upon the roof. But the story of the beautiful sleeping +“Briar-rose,” for so the princess was named, went about the country, so +that from time to time kings’ sons came and tried to get through the +thorny hedge into the castle. + +But they found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if +they had hands, and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose +again, and died a miserable death. + +After long, long years a King’s son came again to that country, and +heard an old man talking about the thorn-hedge, and that a castle was +said to stand behind it in which a wonderfully beautiful princess, +named Briar-rose, had been asleep for a hundred years; and that the +King and Queen and the whole court were asleep likewise. He had heard, +too, from his grandfather, that many kings’ sons had already come, and +had tried to get through the thorny hedge, but they had remained +sticking fast in it, and had died a pitiful death. Then the youth said, +“I am not afraid, I will go and see the beautiful Briar-rose.” The good +old man might dissuade him as he would, he did not listen to his words. + +But by this time the hundred years had just passed, and the day had +come when Briar-rose was to awake again. When the King’s son came near +to the thorn-hedge, it was nothing but large and beautiful flowers, +which parted from each other of their own accord, and let him pass +unhurt, then they closed again behind him like a hedge. In the +castle-yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds lying asleep; on +the roof sat the pigeons with their heads under their wings. And when +he entered the house, the flies were asleep upon the wall, the cook in +the kitchen was still holding out his hand to seize the boy, and the +maid was sitting by the black hen which she was going to pluck. + +He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw the whole of the court +lying asleep, and up by the throne lay the King and Queen. + +Then he went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a breath could +be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into +the little room where Briar-rose was sleeping. There she lay, so +beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away; and he stooped down and +gave her a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her, Briar-rose opened her +eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly. + +Then they went down together, and the King awoke, and the Queen, and +the whole court, and looked at each other in great astonishment. And +the horses in the court-yard stood up and shook themselves; the hounds +jumped up and wagged their tails; the pigeons upon the roof pulled out +their heads from under their wings, looked round, and flew into the +open country; the flies on the wall crept again; the fire in the +kitchen burned up and flickered and cooked the meat; the joint began to +turn and frizzle again, and the cook gave the boy such a box on the ear +that he screamed, and the maid plucked the fowl ready for the spit. + +And then the marriage of the King’s son with Briar-rose was celebrated +with all splendour, and they lived contented to the end of their days. + + + +51 Fundevogel (Bird-foundling) + +There was once a forester who went into the forest to hunt, and as he +entered it he heard a sound of screaming as if a little child were +there. He followed the sound, and at last came to a high tree, and at +the top of this a little child was sitting, for the mother had fallen +asleep under the tree with the child, and a bird of prey had seen it in +her arms, had flown down, snatched it away, and set it on the high +tree. + +The forester climbed up, brought the child down, and thought to +himself, “Thou wilt take him home with thee, and bring him up with thy +Lina.” He took it home, therefore, and the two children grew up +together. The one, however, which he had found on a tree was called +Fundevogel, because a bird had carried it away. Fundevogel and Lina +loved each other so dearly that when they did not see each other they +were sad. + +The forester, however, had an old cook, who one evening took two pails +and began to fetch water, and did not go once only, but many times, out +to the spring. Lina saw this and said, “Hark you, old Sanna, why are +you fetching so much water?” “If thou wilt never repeat it to anyone, I +will tell thee why.” So Lina said, no, she would never repeat it to +anyone, and then the cook said, “Early to-morrow morning, when the +forester is out hunting, I will heat the water, and when it is boiling +in the kettle, I will throw in Fundevogel, and will boil him in it.” + +Betimes next morning the forester got up and went out hunting, and when +he was gone the children were still in bed. Then Lina said to +Fundevogel, “If thou wilt never leave me, I too will never leave thee.” +Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever will I leave thee.” Then said +Lina, “Then I will tell thee. Last night, old Sanna carried so many +buckets of water into the house that I asked her why she was doing +that, and she said that if I would promise not to tell any one she +would tell me, and I said I would be sure not to tell any one, and she +said that early to-morrow morning when father was out hunting, she +would set the kettle full of water, throw thee into it and boil thee; +but we will get up quickly, dress ourselves, and go away together.” + +The two children therefore got up, dressed themselves quickly, and went +away. When the water in the kettle was boiling, the cook went into the +bed-room to fetch Fundevogel and throw him into it. But when she came +in, and went to the beds, both the children were gone. Then she was +terribly alarmed, and she said to herself, “What shall I say now when +the forester comes home and sees that the children are gone? They must +be followed instantly to get them back again.” + +Then the cook sent three servants after them, who were to run and +overtake the children. The children, however, were sitting outside the +forest, and when they saw from afar the three servants running, Lina +said to Fundevogel, “Never leave me, and I will never leave thee.” +Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever.” Then said Lina, “Do thou +become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it.” When the three servants +came to the forest, nothing was there but a rose-tree and one rose on +it, but the children were nowhere. Then said they, “There is nothing to +be done here,” and they went home and told the cook that they had seen +nothing in the forest but a little rose-bush with one rose on it. Then +the old cook scolded and said, “You simpletons, you should have cut the +rose-bush in two, and have broken off the rose and brought it home with +you; go, and do it once.” They had therefore to go out and look for the +second time. The children, however, saw them coming from a distance. +Then Lina said, “Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will never leave +thee.” Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever.” Said Lina, “Then do +thou become a church, and I’ll be the chandelier in it.” So when the +three servants came, nothing was there but a church, with a chandelier +in it. They said therefore to each other, “What can we do here, let us +go home.” When they got home, the cook asked if they had not found +them; so they said no, they had found nothing but a church, and that +there was a chandelier in it. And the cook scolded them and said, “You +fools! why did you not pull the church to pieces, and bring the +chandelier home with you?” And now the old cook herself got on her +legs, and went with the three servants in pursuit of the children. The +children, however, saw from afar that the three servants were coming, +and the cook waddling after them. Then said Lina, “Fundevogel, never +leave me, and I will never leave thee.” Then said Fundevogel, “Neither +now, nor ever.” Said Lina, “Be a fishpond, and I will be the duck upon +it.” The cook, however, came up to them, and when she saw the pond she +lay down by it, and was about to drink it up. But the duck swam quickly +to her, seized her head in its beak and drew her into the water, and +there the old witch had to drown. Then the children went home together, +and were heartily delighted, and if they are not dead, they are living +still. + + + +52 King Thrushbeard + +A King had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure, but so +proud and haughty withal that no suitor was good enough for her. She +sent away one after the other, and ridiculed them as well. + +Once the King made a great feast and invited thereto, from far and +near, all the young men likely to marry. They were all marshalled in a +row according to their rank and standing; first came the kings, then +the grand-dukes, then the princes, the earls, the barons, and the +gentry. Then the King’s daughter was led through the ranks, but to +every one she had some objection to make; one was too fat, “The +wine-cask,” she said. Another was too tall, “Long and thin has little +in.” The third was too short, “Short and thick is never quick.” The +fourth was too pale, “As pale as death.” The fifth too red, “A +fighting-cock.” The sixth was not straight enough, “A green log dried +behind the stove.” + +So she had something to say against every one, but she made herself +especially merry over a good king who stood quite high up in the row, +and whose chin had grown a little crooked. “Well,” she cried and +laughed, “he has a chin like a thrush’s beak!” and from that time he +got the name of King Thrushbeard. + +But the old King, when he saw that his daugher did nothing but mock the +people, and despised all the suitors who were gathered there, was very +angry, and swore that she should have for her husband the very first +beggar that came to his doors. + +A few days afterwards a fiddler came and sang beneath the windows, +trying to earn a small alms. When the King heard him he said, “Let him +come up.” So the fiddler came in, in his dirty, ragged clothes, and +sang before the King and his daughter, and when he had ended he asked +for a trifling gift. The King said, “Your song has pleased me so well +that I will give you my daughter there, to wife.” + +The King’s daughter shuddered, but the King said, “I have taken an oath +to give you to the very first beggar-man, and I will keep it.” All she +could say was in vain; the priest was brought, and she had to let +herself be wedded to the fiddler on the spot. When that was done the +King said, “Now it is not proper for you, a beggar-woman, to stay any +longer in my palace, you may just go away with your husband.” + +The beggar-man led her out by the hand, and she was obliged to walk +away on foot with him. When they came to a large forest she asked, “To +whom does that beautiful forest belong?” “It belongs to King +Thrushbeard; if you had taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah, +unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken King Thrushbeard!” + +Afterwards they came to a meadow, and she asked again, “To whom does +this beautiful green meadow belong?” “It belongs to King Thrushbeard; +if you had taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah, unhappy girl that +I am, if I had but taken King Thrushbeard!” + +Then they came to a large town, and she asked again, “To whom does this +fine large town belong?” “It belongs to King Thrushbeard; if you had +taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I +had but taken King Thrushbeard!” + +“It does not please me,” said the fiddler, “to hear you always wishing +for another husband; am I not good enough for you?” At last they came +to a very little hut, and she said, “Oh goodness! what a small house; +to whom does this miserable, mean hovel belong?” The fiddler answered, +“That is my house and yours, where we shall live together.” + +She had to stoop in order to go in at the low door. “Where are the +servants?” said the King’s daughter. “What servants?” answered the +beggar-man; “you must yourself do what you wish to have done. Just make +a fire at once, and set on water to cook my supper, I am quite tired.” +But the King’s daughter knew nothing about lighting fires or cooking, +and the beggar-man had to lend a hand himself to get anything fairly +done. When they had finished their scanty meal they went to bed; but he +forced her to get up quite early in the morning in order to look after +the house. + +For a few days they lived in this way as well as might be, and came to +the end of all their provisions. Then the man said, “Wife, we cannot go +on any longer eating and drinking here and earning nothing. You weave +baskets.” He went out, cut some willows, and brought them home. Then +she began to weave, but the tough willows wounded her delicate hands. + +“I see that this will not do,” said the man; “you had better spin, +perhaps you can do that better.” She sat down and tried to spin, but +the hard thread soon cut her soft fingers so that the blood ran down. +“See,” said the man, “you are fit for no sort of work; I have made a +bad bargain with you. Now I will try to make a business with pots and +earthenware; you must sit in the market-place and sell the ware.” +“Alas,” thought she, “if any of the people from my father’s kingdom +come to the market and see me sitting there, selling, how they will +mock me?” But it was of no use, she had to yield unless she chose to +die of hunger. + +For the first time she succeeded well, for the people were glad to buy +the woman’s wares because she was good-looking, and they paid her what +she asked; many even gave her the money and left the pots with her as +well. So they lived on what she had earned as long as it lasted, then +the husband bought a lot of new crockery. With this she sat down at the +corner of the market-place, and set it out round about her ready for +sale. But suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping along, and he +rode right amongst the pots so that they were all broken into a +thousand bits. She began to weep, and did now know what to do for fear. +“Alas! what will happen to me?” cried she; “what will my husband say to +this?” + +She ran home and told him of the misfortune. “Who would seat herself at +a corner of the market-place with crockery?” said the man; “leave off +crying, I see very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have +been to our King’s palace and have asked whether they cannot find a +place for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to take you; in +that way you will get your food for nothing.” + +The King’s daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had to be at the cook’s +beck and call, and do the dirtiest work. In both her pockets she +fastened a little jar, in which she took home her share of the +leavings, and upon this they lived. + +It happened that the wedding of the King’s eldest son was to be +celebrated, so the poor woman went up and placed herself by the door of +the hall to look on. When all the candles were lit, and people, each +more beautiful than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and +splendour, she thought of her lot with a sad heart, and cursed the +pride and haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to so great +poverty. + +The smell of the delicious dishes which were being taken in and out +reached her, and now and then the servants threw her a few morsels of +them: these she put in her jars to take home. + +All at once the King’s son entered, clothed in velvet and silk, with +gold chains about his neck. And when he saw the beautiful woman +standing by the door he seized her by the hand, and would have danced +with her; but she refused and shrank with fear, for she saw that it was +King Thrushbeard, her suitor whom she had driven away with scorn. Her +struggles were of no avail, he drew her into the hall; but the string +by which her pockets were hung broke, the pots fell down, the soup ran +out, and the scraps were scattered all about. And when the people saw +it, there arose general laughter and derision, and she was so ashamed +that she would rather have been a thousand fathoms below the ground. +She sprang to the door and would have run away, but on the stairs a man +caught her and brought her back; and when she looked at him it was King +Thrushbeard again. He said to her kindly, “Do not be afraid, I and the +fiddler who has been living with you in that wretched hovel are one. +For love of you I disguised myself so; and I also was the hussar who +rode through your crockery. This was all done to humble your proud +spirit, and to punish you for the insolence with which you mocked me.” + +Then she wept bitterly and said, “I have done great wrong, and am not +worthy to be your wife.” But he said, “Be comforted, the evil days are +past; now we will celebrate our wedding.” Then the maids-in-waiting +came and put on her the most splendid clothing, and her father and his +whole court came and wished her happiness in her marriage with King +Thrushbeard, and the joy now began in earnest. I wish you and I had +been there too. + + + +53 Little Snow-white + +Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were +falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a window sewing, and +the frame of the window was made of black ebony. And whilst she was +sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her +finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. +And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to +herself, “Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, +and as black as the wood of the window-frame.” + +Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as snow, +and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony; and she was +therefore called Little Snow-white. And when the child was born, the +Queen died. + +After a year had passed the King took to himself another wife. She was +a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that +anyone else should surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful +looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself +in it, and said— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +the looking-glass answered— + +“Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!” + + +Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass spoke the +truth. + +But Snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful; and +when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more +beautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her +looking-glass— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +it answered— + +“Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen.” +But more beautiful still is Snow-white, as I ween.” + + +Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From +that hour, whenever she looked at Snow-white, her heart heaved in her +breast, she hated the girl so much. + +And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so +that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said, +“Take the child away into the forest; I will no longer have her in my +sight. Kill her, and bring me back her heart as a token.” The huntsman +obeyed, and took her away; but when he had drawn his knife, and was +about to pierce Snow-white’s innocent heart, she began to weep, and +said, “Ah dear huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the +wild forest, and never come home again.” + +And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and said, “Run +away, then, you poor child.” “The wild beasts will soon have devoured +you,” thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from +his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her. And as a +young boar just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its +heart and took it to the Queen as proof that the child was dead. The +cook had to salt this, and the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had +eaten the heart of Snow-white. + +But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so +terrified that she looked at every leaf of every tree, and did not know +what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp stones and +through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm. + +She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost evening; then +she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself. Everything +in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. +There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates, +and on each plate a little spoon; moreover, there were seven little +knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven +little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes. + +Little Snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some +vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of +each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she +was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none +of them suited her; one was too long, another too short, but at last +she found that the seventh one was right, and so she remained in it, +said a prayer and went to sleep. + +When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back; they were +seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit +their seven candles, and as it was now light within the cottage they +saw that someone had been there, for everything was not in the same +order in which they had left it. + +The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?” + +The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?” + +The third, “Who has been taking some of my bread?” + +The fourth, “Who has been eating my vegetables?” + +The fifth, “Who has been using my fork?” + +The sixth, “Who has been cutting with my knife?” + +The seventh, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?” + +Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole on his +bed, and he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?” The others came +up and each called out, “Somebody has been lying in my bed too.” But +the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-white, who was +lying asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up, +and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little +candles and let the light fall on little Snow-white. “Oh, heavens! oh, +heavens!” cried they, “what a lovely child!” and they were so glad that +they did not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the +seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so got +through the night. + +When it was morning little Snow-white awoke, and was frightened when +she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her +name was. “My name is Snow-white,” she answered. “How have you come to +our house?” said the dwarfs. Then she told them that her step-mother +had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman had spared her +life, and that she had run for the whole day, until at last she had +found their dwelling. The dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our +house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit, and if you will keep +everything neat and clean, you can stay with us and you shall want for +nothing.” “Yes,” said Snow-white, “with all my heart,” and she stayed +with them. She kept the house in order for them; in the mornings they +went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the evenings +they came back, and then their supper had to be ready. The girl was +alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her and said, “Beware of +your step-mother, she will soon know that you are here; be sure to let +no one come in.” + +But the Queen, believing that she had eaten Snow-white’s heart, could +not but think that she was again the first and most beautiful of all; +and she went to her looking-glass and said— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +and the glass answered— + +“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, +But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell, +Snow-white is still alive and well, +And none is so fair as she.” + + +Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass never spoke +falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed her, and that +little Snow-white was still alive. + +And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so +long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her have no +rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she painted +her face, and dressed herself like an old peddler-woman, and no one +could have known her. In this disguise she went over the seven +mountains to the seven dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried, +“Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap.” Little Snow-white +looked out of the window and called out, “Good-day my good woman, what +have you to sell?” “Good things, pretty things,” she answered; +“stay-laces of all colours,” and she pulled out one which was woven of +bright-coloured silk. “I may let the worthy old woman in,” thought +Snow-white, and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces. +“Child,” said the old woman, “what a fright you look; come, I will lace +you properly for once.” Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before +her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman +laced so quickly and so tightly that Snow-white lost her breath and +fell down as if dead. “Now I am the most beautiful,” said the Queen to +herself, and ran away. + +Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home, but +how shocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-white lying +on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be +dead. They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too +tightly, they cut the laces; then she began to breathe a little, and +after a while came to life again. When the dwarfs heard what had +happened they said, “The old peddler-woman was no one else than the +wicked Queen; take care and let no one come in when we are not with +you.” + +But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front of the +glass and asked— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +and it answered as before— + +“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, +But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell, +Snow-white is still alive and well, +And none is so fair as she.” + + +When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for +she saw plainly that little Snow-white was again alive. “But now,” she +said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by +the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous +comb. Then she disguised herself and took the shape of another old +woman. So she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, +knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!” +Little Snow-white looked out and said, “Go away; I cannot let any one +come in.” “I suppose you can look,” said the old woman, and pulled the +poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well that she +let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a +bargain the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.” +Poor little Snow-white had no suspicion, and let the old woman do as +she pleased, but hardly had she put the comb in her hair than the +poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down senseless. “You +paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now,” and +she went away. + +But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs came home. +When they saw Snow-white lying as if dead upon the ground they at once +suspected the step-mother, and they looked and found the poisoned comb. +Scarcely had they taken it out when Snow-white came to herself, and +told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon +her guard and to open the door to no one. + +The Queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +then it answered as before— + +“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, +But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell, +Snow-white is still alive and well, +And none is so fair as she.” + + +When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook with rage. +“Snow-white shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!” + +Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no one ever +came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked +pretty, white with a red cheek, so that everyone who saw it longed for +it; but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die. + +When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself up +as a country-woman, and so she went over the seven mountains to the +seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of +the window and said, “I cannot let any one in; the seven dwarfs have +forbidden me.” “It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall +soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.” + +“No,” said Snow-white, “I dare not take anything.” “Are you afraid of +poison?” said the old woman; “look, I will cut the apple in two pieces; +you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.” The apple was so +cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Snow-white longed +for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman ate part of it she +could resist no longer, and stretched out her hand and took the +poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth than she +fell down dead. Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and +laughed aloud and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as +ebony-wood! this time the dwarfs cannot wake you up again.” + +And when she asked of the Looking-glass at home— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +it answered at last— + +“Oh, Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.” + + +Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have +rest. + +The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found Snow-white lying +upon the ground; she breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted her +up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced +her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was all of +no use; the poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon +a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept +three days long. + +Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she were +living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said, “We could not +bury her in the dark ground,” and they had a transparent coffin of +glass made, so that she could be seen from all sides, and they laid her +in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she was a +king’s daughter. Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain, and +one of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and +wept for Snow-white; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove. + +And now Snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she did not +change, but looked as if she were asleep; for she was as white as snow, +as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony. + +It happened, however, that a king’s son came into the forest, and went +to the dwarfs’ house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the +mountain, and the beautiful Snow-white within it, and read what was +written upon it in golden letters. Then he said to the dwarfs, “Let me +have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it.” But the +dwarfs answered, “We will not part with it for all the gold in the +world.” Then he said, “Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live +without seeing Snow-white. I will honour and prize her as my dearest +possession.” As he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon +him, and gave him the coffin. + +And now the King’s son had it carried away by his servants on their +shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and +with the shock the poisonous piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten +off came out of her throat. And before long she opened her eyes, lifted +up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive. “Oh, +heavens, where am I?” she cried. The King’s son, full of joy, said, +“You are with me,” and told her what had happened, and said, “I love +you more than everything in the world; come with me to my father’s +palace, you shall be my wife.” + +And Snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding was +held with great show and splendour. But Snow-white’s wicked step-mother +was also bidden to the feast. When she had arrayed herself in beautiful +clothes she went before the Looking-glass, and said— + +“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, +Who in this land is the fairest of all?” + + +the glass answered— + +“Oh, Queen, of all here the fairest art thou, +But the young Queen is fairer by far as I trow.” + + +Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched, so utterly +wretched, that she knew not what to do. At first she would not go to +the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and must go to see the young +Queen. And when she went in she knew Snow-white; and she stood still +with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already +been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set +before her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance +until she dropped down dead. + + + +54 The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn + +There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into +poverty, and at last their need was so great that they had to endure +hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then said they, “We cannot go +on thus, we had better go into the world and seek our fortune.” They +therefore set out, and had already walked over many a long road and +many a blade of grass, but had not yet met with good luck. One day they +arrived in a great forest, and in the midst of it was a hill, and when +they came nearer they saw that the hill was all silver. Then spoke the +eldest, “Now I have found the good luck I wished for, and I desire +nothing more.” He took as much of the silver as he could possibly +carry, and then turned back and went home again. But the two others +said, “We want something more from good luck than mere silver,” and did +not touch it, but went onwards. After they had walked for two days +longer without stopping, they came to a hill which was all gold. The +second brother stopped, took thought with himself, and was undecided. +“What shall I do?” said he; “shall I take for myself so much of this +gold, that I have sufficient for all the rest of my life, or shall I go +farther?” At length he made a decision, and putting as much into his +pockets as would go in, said farewell to his brother, and went home. +But the third said, “Silver and gold do not move me, I will not +renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will be +given me.” He journeyed onwards, and when he had walked for three days, +he got into a forest which was still larger than the one before, and +never would come to an end, and as he found nothing to eat or to drink, +he was all but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to find out if +up there he could see the end of the forest, but so far as his eye +could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then he began to +descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he thought to +himself, “If I could but eat my fill once more!” When he got down he +saw with astonishment a table beneath the tree richly spread with food, +the steam of which rose up to meet him. “This time,” said he, “my wish +has been fulfilled at the right moment.” And without inquiring who had +brought the food, or who had cooked it, he approached the table, and +ate with enjoyment until he had appeased his hunger. When he was done, +he thought, “It would after all be a pity if the pretty little +table-cloth were to be spoilt in the forest here,” and folded it up +tidily and put it in his pocket. Then he went onwards, and in the +evening, when hunger once more made itself felt, he wanted to make a +trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and said, “I wish thee to +be covered with good cheer again,” and scarcely had the wish crossed +his lips than as many dishes with the most exquisite food on them stood +on the table as there was room for. “Now I perceive,” said he, “in what +kitchen my cooking is done. Thou shalt be dearer to me than the +mountains of silver and gold.” For he saw plainly that it was a +wishing-cloth. The cloth, however, was still not enough to enable him +to sit down quietly at home; he preferred to wander about the world and +pursue his fortune farther. + +One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black charcoal-burner, who +was burning charcoal there, and had some potatoes by the fire, on which +he was going to make a meal. “Good evening, blackbird!” said the youth. +“How dost thou get on in thy solitude?” + +“One day is like another,” replied the charcoal-burner, “and every +night potatoes! Hast thou a mind to have some, and wilt thou be my +guest?” “Many thanks,” replied the traveler, “I won’t rob thee of thy +supper; thou didst not reckon on a visitor, but if thou wilt put up +with what I have, thou shalt have an invitation.” + +“Who is to prepare it for thee?” said the charcoal-burner. “I see that +thou hast nothing with thee, and there is no one within a two hours’ +walk who could give thee anything.” “And yet there shall be a meal,” +answered the youth, “and better than any thou hast ever tasted.” +Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his knapsack, spread it on the +ground, and said, “Little cloth, cover thyself,” and instantly boiled +meat and baked meat stood there, and as hot as if it had just come out +of the kitchen. The charcoal-burner stared, but did not require much +pressing; he fell to, and thrust larger and larger mouthfuls into his +black mouth. When they had eaten everything, the charcoal-burner smiled +contentedly, and said, “Hark thee, thy table-cloth has my approval; it +would be a fine thing for me in this forest, where no one ever cooks me +anything good. I will propose an exchange to thee; there in the corner +hangs a soldier’s knapsack, which is certainly old and shabby, but in +it lie concealed wonderful powers; but, as I no longer use it, I will +give it to thee for the table-cloth.” + +“I must first know what these wonderful powers are,” answered the +youth. + +“That will I tell thee,” replied the charcoal-burner; “every time thou +tappest it with thy hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head +to foot, and they do whatsoever thou commandest them.” “So far as I am +concerned,” said the youth, “if nothing else can be done, we will +exchange,” and he gave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took the knapsack +from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell. When he had walked a +while, he wished to make a trial of the magical powers of his knapsack +and tapped it. Immediately the seven warriors stepped up to him, and +the corporal said, “What does my lord and ruler wish for?” + +“March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my +wishing-cloth back.” They faced to the left, and it was not long before +they brought what he required, and had taken it from the +charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man bade them +retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more brightly +on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner, who was making +his supper ready by the fire. “If thou wilt eat some potatoes with +salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,” said the sooty +fellow. + +“No, he replied, this time thou shalt be my guest,” and he spread out +his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most beautiful dishes. +They ate and drank together, and enjoyed themselves heartily. After the +meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, “Up there on that shelf lies a +little old worn-out hat which has strange properties: when any one puts +it on, and turns it round on his head, the cannons go off as if twelve +were fired all together, and they shoot down everything so that no one +can withstand them. The hat is of no use to me, and I will willingly +give it for thy table-cloth.” + +“That suits me very well,” he answered, took the hat, put it on, and +left his table-cloth behind him. Hardly, however, had he walked away +than he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth +back again. “One thing comes on the top of another,” thought he, “and I +feel as if my luck had not yet come to an end.” Neither had his +thoughts deceived him. After he had walked on for the whole of one day, +he came to a third charcoal-burner, who like the previous ones, invited +him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine with him +from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so well, that +at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very different +properties from those of the hat. When any one blew it all the walls +and fortifications fell down, and all towns and villages became ruins. +He certainly gave the charcoal-burner the cloth for it, but he +afterwards sent his soldiers to demand it back again, so that at length +he had the knapsack, hat and horn, all three. “Now,” said he, “I am a +made man, and it is time for me to go home and see how my brothers are +getting on.” + +When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a handsome +house with their silver and gold, and were living in clover. He went to +see them, but as he came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on his +head, and his old knapsack on his back, they would not acknowledge him +as their brother. They mocked and said, “Thou givest out that thou art +our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for something +still better for himself. He will come in his carriage in full +splendour like a mighty king, not like a beggar,” and they drove him +out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped his knapsack until a +hundred and fifty men stood before him armed from head to foot. He +commanded them to surround his brothers’ house, and two of them were to +take hazel-sticks with them, and beat the two insolent men until they +knew who he was. A violent disturbance arose, people ran together, and +wanted to lend the two some help in their need, but against the +soldiers they could do nothing. News of this at length came to the +King, who was very angry, and ordered a captain to march out with his +troop, and drive this disturber of the peace out of the town; but the +man with the knapsack soon got a greater body of men together, who +repulsed the captain and his men, so that they were forced to retire +with bloody noses. The King said, “This vagabond is not brought to +order yet,” and next day sent a still larger troop against him, but +they could do even less. The youth set still more men against them, and +in order to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his +head, and heavy guns began to play, and the king’s men were beaten and +put to flight. “And now,” said he, “I will not make peace until the +King gives me his daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in +his name.” He caused this to be announced to the King, and the latter +said to his daughter, “Necessity is a hard nut to crack, what remains +to me but to do what he desires? If I want peace and to keep the crown +on my head, I must give thee away.” + +So the wedding was celebrated, but the King’s daughter was vexed that +her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby hat, and put on +an old knapsack. She wished much to get rid of him, and night and day +studied how she could accomplished this. Then she thought to herself, +“Is it possible that his wonderful powers lie in the knapsack?” and she +dissembled and caressed him, and when his heart was softened, she said, +“If thou wouldst but lay aside that ugly knapsack, it makes disfigures +thee so, that I can’t help being ashamed of thee.” “Dear child,” said +he, “this knapsack is my greatest treasure; as long as I have it, there +is no power on earth that I am afraid of.” And he revealed to her the +wonderful virtue with which it was endowed. Then she threw herself in +his arms as if she were going to kiss him, but dexterously took the +knapsack off his shoulders, and ran away with it. As soon as she was +alone she tapped it, and commanded the warriors to seize their former +master, and take him out of the royal palace. They obeyed, and the +false wife sent still more men after him, who were to drive him quite +out of the country. Then he would have been ruined if he had not had +the little hat. But his hands were scarcely at liberty before he turned +it twice. Immediately the cannon began to thunder, and struck down +everything, and the King’s daughter herself was forced to come and beg +for mercy. As she entreated in such moving terms, and promised +amendment, he allowed himself to be persuaded and granted her peace. +She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she loved him +very much, and after some time managed so to befool him, that he +confided to her that even if someone got the knapsack into his power, +he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat was still his. +When she knew the secret, she waited until he was asleep, and then she +took the hat away from him, and had it thrown out into the street. But +the horn still remained to him, and in great anger he blew it with all +his strength. Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages, +toppled down, and crushed the King and his daughter to death. And had +he not put down the horn and had blown just a little longer, everything +would have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been left +standing on another. Then no one opposed him any longer, and he made +himself King of the whole country. + + + +55 Rumpelstiltskin + +Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. +Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the King, and in order +to make himself appear important he said to him, “I have a daughter who +can spin straw into gold.” The King said to the miller, “That is an art +which pleases me well; if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring +her to-morrow to my palace, and I will try what she can do.” + +And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room which was +quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, +“Now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun +this straw into gold during the night, you must die.” Thereupon he +himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the +poor miller’s daughter, and for the life of her could not tell what to +do; she had no idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew +more and more miserable, until at last she began to weep. + +But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man, and said, +“Good evening, Mistress Miller; why are you crying so?” “Alas!” +answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know +how to do it.” “What will you give me,” said the manikin, “if I do it +for you?” “My necklace,” said the girl. The little man took the +necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and “whirr, whirr, +whirr,” three turns, and the reel was full; then he put another on, and +whirr, whirr, whirr, three times round, and the second was full too. +And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and +all the reels were full of gold. By daybreak the King was already +there, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but +his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller’s daughter taken +into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded +her to spin that also in one night if she valued her life. The girl +knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door again +opened, and the little man appeared, and said, “What will you give me +if I spin that straw into gold for you?” “The ring on my finger,” +answered the girl. The little man took the ring, again began to turn +the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold. + +The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not +gold enough; and he had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger +room full of straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course +of this night; but if you succeed, you shall be my wife.” “Even if she +be a miller’s daughter,” thought he, “I could not find a richer wife in +the whole world.” + +When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third time, and +said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time +also?” “I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl. +“Then promise me, if you should become Queen, your first child.” “Who +knows whether that will ever happen?” thought the miller’s daughter; +and, not knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she promised +the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more span the straw +into gold. + +And when the King came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, +he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller’s daughter became a +Queen. + +A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought +to the manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “Now give +me what you promised.” The Queen was horror-struck, and offered the +manikin all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. +But the manikin said, “No, something that is living is dearer to me +than all the treasures in the world.” Then the Queen began to weep and +cry, so that the manikin pitied her. “I will give you three days’ +time,” said he, “if by that time you find out my name, then shall you +keep your child.” + +So the Queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever +heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and +wide, for any other names that there might be. When the manikin came +the next day, she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and said all +the names she knew, one after another; but to every one the little man +said, “That is not my name.” On the second day she had inquiries made +in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she +repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. “Perhaps your +name is Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg?” but he always answered, +“That is not my name.” + +On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, “I have not +been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a high mountain +at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other +good night, there I saw a little house, and before the house a fire was +burning, and round about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was +jumping: he hopped upon one leg, and shouted— + +“To-day I bake, to-morrow brew, +The next I’ll have the young Queen’s child. +Ha! glad am I that no one knew +That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.” + + +You may think how glad the Queen was when she heard the name! And when +soon afterwards the little man came in, and asked, “Now, Mistress +Queen, what is my name?” at first she said, “Is your name Conrad?” +“No.” “Is your name Harry?” “No.” + +“Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?” + +“The devil has told you that! the devil has told you that!” cried the +little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the +earth that his whole leg went in; and then in rage he pulled at his +left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two. + + + +56 Sweetheart Roland + +There was once on a time a woman who was a real witch and had two +daughters, one ugly and wicked, and this one she loved because she was +her own daughter, and one beautiful and good, and this one she hated, +because she was her step-daughter. The step-daughter once had a pretty +apron, which the other fancied so much that she became envious, and +told her mother that she must and would have that apron. “Be quiet, my +child,” said the old woman, “and thou shalt have it. Thy step-sister +has long deserved death, to-night when she is asleep I will come and +cut her head off. Only be careful that thou art at the far-side of the +bed, and push her well to the front.” It would have been all over with +the poor girl if she had not just then been standing in a corner, and +heard everything. All day long she dared not go out of doors, and when +bed-time had come, the witch’s daughter got into bed first, so as to +lie at the far side, but when she was asleep, the other pushed her +gently to the front, and took for herself the place at the back, close +by the wall. In the night, the old woman came creeping in, she held an +axe in her right hand, and felt with her left to see if anyone was +lying at the outside, and then she grasped the axe with both hands, and +cut her own child’s head off. + +When she had gone away, the girl got up and went to her sweetheart, who +was called Roland, and knocked at his door. When he came out, she said +to him, “Hear me, dearest Roland, we must fly in all haste; my +step-mother wanted to kill me, but has struck her own child. When +daylight comes, and she sees what she has done, we shall be lost.” +“But,” said Roland, “I counsel thee first to take away her magic wand, +or we cannot escape if she pursues us.” The maiden fetched the magic +wand, and she took the dead girl’s head and dropped three drops of +blood on the ground, one in front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and +one on the stairs. Then she hurried away with her lover. When the old +witch got up next morning, she called her daughter, and wanted to give +her the apron, but she did not come. Then the witch cried, “Where art +thou?” “Here, on the stairs, I am sweeping,” answered the first drop of +blood. The old woman went out, but saw no one on the stairs, and cried +again, “Where art thou?” “Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself,” +cried the second drop of blood. She went into the kitchen, but found no +one. Then she cried again, “Where art thou?” “Ah, here in the bed, I am +sleeping.” cried the third drop of blood. She went into the room to the +bed. What did she see there? Her own child, whose head she had cut off, +bathed in her blood. The witch fell into a passion, sprang to the +window, and as she could look forth quite far into the world, she +perceived her step-daughter hurrying away with her sweetheart Roland. +“That shall not serve you,” cried she, “even if you have got a long way +off, you shall still not escape me.” She put on her many league boots, +in which went an hour’s walk at every step, and it was not long before +she overtook them. The girl, however, when she saw the old woman +striding towards her, changed, with her magic wand, her sweetheart +Roland into a lake, and herself into a duck swimming in the middle of +it. The witch placed herself on the shore, threw bread-crumbs in, and +gave herself every possible trouble to entice the duck; but the duck +did not let herself be enticed, and the old woman had to go home at +night as she had come. On this the girl and her sweetheart Roland +resumed their natural shapes again, and they walked on the whole night +until daybreak. Then the maiden changed herself into a beautiful flower +which stood in the midst of a briar hedge, and her sweetheart Roland +into a fiddler. It was not long before the witch came striding up +towards them, and said to the musician, “Dear musician, may I pluck +that beautiful flower for myself?” “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I will play +to you while you do it.” As she was hastily creeping into the hedge and +was just going to pluck the flower, for she well knew who the flower +was, he began to play, and whether she would or not, she was forced to +dance, for it was a magical dance. The quicker he played, the more +violent springs was she forced to make, and the thorns tore her clothes +from her body, and pricked her and wounded her till she bled, and as he +did not stop, she had to dance till she lay dead on the ground. + +When they were delivered, Roland said, “Now I will go to my father and +arrange for the wedding.” “Then in the meantime I will stay here and +wait for thee,” said the girl, “and that no one may recognize me, I +will change myself into a red stone land-mark.” Then Roland went away, +and the girl stood like a red land-mark in the field and waited for her +beloved. But when Roland got home, he fell into the snares of another, +who prevailed on him so far that he forgot the maiden. The poor girl +remained there a long time, but at length, as he did not return at all, +she was sad, and changed herself into a flower, and thought, “Some one +will surely come this way, and trample me down.” + +It befell, however, that a shepherd kept his sheep in the field, and +saw the flower, and as it was so pretty, plucked it, took it with him, +and laid it away in his chest. From that time forth, strange things +happened in the shepherd’s house. When he arose in the morning, all the +work was already done, the room was swept, the table and benches +cleaned, the fire on the hearth was lighted, and the water was fetched, +and at noon, when he came home, the table was laid, and a good dinner +served. He could not conceive how this came to pass, for he never saw a +human being in his house, and no one could have concealed himself in +it. He was certainly pleased with this good attendance, but still at +last he was so afraid that he went to a wise woman and asked for her +advice. The wise woman said, “There is some enchantment behind it, +listen very early some morning if anything is moving in the room, and +if thou seest anything, let it be what it may, throw a white cloth over +it, and then the magic will be stopped.” + +The shepherd did as she bade him, and next morning just as day dawned, +he saw the chest open, and the flower come out. Swiftly he sprang +towards it, and threw a white cloth over it. Instantly the +transformation came to an end, and a beautiful girl stood before him, +who owned to him that she had been the flower, and that up to this time +she had attended to his housekeeping. She told him her story, and as +she pleased him he asked her if she would marry him, but she answered, +“No,” for she wanted to remain faithful to her sweetheart Roland, +although he had deserted her, but she promised not to go away, but to +keep house for the shepherd for the future. + +And now the time drew near when Roland’s wedding was to be celebrated, +and then, according to an old custom in the country, it was announced +that all the girls were to be present at it, and sing in honour of the +bridal pair. When the faithful maiden heard of this, she grew so sad +that she thought her heart would break, and she would not go thither, +but the other girls came and took her. When it came to her turn to +sing, she stepped back, until at last she was the only one left, and +then she could not refuse. But when she began her song, and it reached +Roland’s ears, he sprang up and cried, “I know the voice, that is the +true bride, I will have no other!” Everything he had forgotten, and +which had vanished from his mind, had suddenly come home again to his +heart. Then the faithful maiden held her wedding with her sweetheart +Roland, and grief came to an end and joy began. + + + +57 The Golden Bird + +In the olden time there was a king, who had behind his palace a +beautiful pleasure-garden in which there was a tree that bore golden +apples. When the apples were getting ripe they were counted, but on the +very next morning one was missing. This was told to the King, and he +ordered that a watch should be kept every night beneath the tree. + +The King had three sons, the eldest of whom he sent, as soon as night +came on, into the garden; but when midnight came he could not keep +himself from sleeping, and next morning again an apple was gone. + +The following night the second son had to keep watch, it fared no +better with him; as soon as twelve o’clock had struck he fell asleep, +and in the morning an apple was gone. + +Now it came to the turn of the third son to watch; and he was quite +ready, but the King had not much trust in him, and thought that he +would be of less use even than his brothers; but at last he let him go. +The youth lay down beneath the tree, but kept awake, and did not let +sleep master him. When it struck twelve, something rustled through the +air, and in the moonlight he saw a bird coming whose feathers were all +shining with gold. The bird alighted on the tree, and had just plucked +off an apple, when the youth shot an arrow at him. The bird flew off, +but the arrow had struck his plumage, and one of his golden feathers +fell down. The youth picked it up, and the next morning took it to the +King and told him what he had seen in the night. The King called his +council together, and everyone declared that a feather like this was +worth more than the whole kingdom. “If the feather is so precious,” +declared the King, “one alone will not do for me; I must and will have +the whole bird!” + +The eldest son set out; he trusted to his cleverness, and thought that +he would easily find the Golden Bird. When he had gone some distance he +saw a Fox sitting at the edge of a wood, so he cocked his gun and took +aim at him. The Fox cried, “Do not shoot me! and in return I will give +you some good counsel. You are on the way to the Golden Bird; and this +evening you will come to a village in which stand two inns opposite to +one another. One of them is lighted up brightly, and all goes on +merrily within, but do not go into it; go rather into the other, even +though it seems a bad one.” “How can such a silly beast give wise +advice?” thought the King’s son, and he pulled the trigger. But he +missed the Fox, who stretched out his tail and ran quickly into the +wood. + +So he pursued his way, and by evening came to the village where the two +inns were; in one they were singing and dancing; the other had a poor, +miserable look. “I should be a fool, indeed,” he thought, “if I were to +go into the shabby tavern, and pass by the good one.” So he went into +the cheerful one, lived there in riot and revel, and forgot the bird +and his father, and all good counsels. + +When some time had passed, and the eldest son for month after month did +not come back home, the second set out, wishing to find the Golden +Bird. The Fox met him as he had met the eldest, and gave him the good +advice of which he took no heed. He came to the two inns, and his +brother was standing at the window of the one from which came the +music, and called out to him. He could not resist, but went inside and +lived only for pleasure. + +Again some time passed, and then the King’s youngest son wanted to set +off and try his luck, but his father would not allow it. “It is of no +use,” said he, “he will find the Golden Bird still less than his +brothers, and if a mishap were to befall him he knows not how to help +himself; he is a little wanting at the best.” But at last, as he had no +peace, he let him go. + +Again the Fox was sitting outside the wood, and begged for his life, +and offered his good advice. The youth was good-natured, and said, “Be +easy, little Fox, I will do you no harm.” “You shall not repent it,” +answered the Fox; “and that you may get on more quickly, get up behind +on my tail.” And scarcely had he seated himself when the Fox began to +run, and away he went over stock and stone till his hair whistled in +the wind. When they came to the village the youth got off; he followed +the good advice, and without looking round turned into the little inn, +where he spent the night quietly. + +The next morning, as soon as he got into the open country, there sat +the Fox already, and said, “I will tell you further what you have to +do. Go on quite straight, and at last you will come to a castle, in +front of which a whole regiment of soldiers is lying, but do not +trouble yourself about them, for they will all be asleep and snoring. +Go through the midst of them straight into the castle, and go through +all the rooms, till at last you will come to a chamber where a Golden +Bird is hanging in a wooden cage. Close by, there stands an empty gold +cage for show, but beware of taking the bird out of the common cage and +putting it into the fine one, or it may go badly with you.” With these +words the Fox again stretched out his tail, and the King’s son seated +himself upon it, and away he went over stock and stone till his hair +whistled in the wind. + +When he came to the castle he found everything as the Fox had said. The +King’s son went into the chamber where the Golden Bird was shut up in a +wooden cage, whilst a golden one stood hard by; and the three golden +apples lay about the room. “But,” thought he, “it would be absurd if I +were to leave the beautiful bird in the common and ugly cage,” so he +opened the door, laid hold of it, and put it into the golden cage. But +at the same moment the bird uttered a shrill cry. The soldiers awoke, +rushed in, and took him off to prison. The next morning he was taken +before a court of justice, and as he confessed everything, was +sentenced to death. + +The King, however, said that he would grant him his life on one +condition namely, if he brought him the Golden Horse which ran faster +than the wind; and in that case he should receive, over and above, as a +reward, the Golden Bird. + +The King’s son set off, but he sighed and was sorrowful, for how was he +to find the Golden Horse? But all at once he saw his old friend the Fox +sitting on the road. “Look you,” said the Fox, “this has happened +because you did not give heed to me. However, be of good courage. I +will give you my help, and tell you how to get to the Golden Horse. You +must go straight on, and you will come to a castle, where in the stable +stands the horse. The grooms will be lying in front of the stable; but +they will be asleep and snoring, and you can quietly lead out the +Golden Horse. But of one thing you must take heed; put on him the +common saddle of wood and leather, and not the golden one, which hangs +close by, else it will go ill with you.” Then the Fox stretched out his +tail, the King’s son seated himself upon it, and away he went over +stock and stone until his hair whistled in the wind. + +Everything happened just as the Fox had said; the prince came to the +stable in which the Golden Horse was standing, but just as he was going +to put the common saddle upon him, he thought, “It will be a shame to +such a beautiful beast, if I do not give him the good saddle which +belongs to him by right.” But scarcely had the golden saddle touched +the horse than he began to neigh loudly. The grooms awoke, seized the +youth, and threw him into prison. The next morning he was sentenced by +the court to death; but the King promised to grant him his life, and +the Golden Horse as well, if he could bring back the beautiful princess +from the Golden Castle. + +With a heavy heart the youth set out; yet luckily for him he soon found +the trusty Fox. “I ought only to leave you to your ill-luck,” said the +Fox, “but I pity you, and will help you once more out of your trouble. +This road takes you straight to the Golden Castle, you will reach it by +eventide; and at night when everything is quiet the beautiful princess +goes to the bathing-house to bathe. When she enters it, run up to her +and give her a kiss, then she will follow you, and you can take her +away with you; only do not allow her to take leave of her parents +first, or it will go ill with you.” + +Then the Fox stretched out his tail, the King’s son seated himself upon +it, and away the Fox went, over stock and stone, till his hair whistled +in the wind. + +When he reached the Golden Castle it was just as the Fox had said. He +waited until midnight, when everything lay in deep sleep, and the +beautiful princess was going to the bathing-house. Then he sprang out +and gave her a kiss. She said that she would like to go with him, but +she asked him pitifully, and with tears, to allow her first to take +leave of her parents. At first he withstood her prayer, but when she +wept more and more, and fell at his feet, he at last gave in. But no +sooner had the maiden reached the bedside of her father than he and all +the rest in the castle awoke, and the youth was laid hold of and put +into prison. + +The next morning the King said to him, “Your life is forfeited, and you +can only find mercy if you take away the hill which stands in front of +my windows, and prevents my seeing beyond it; and you must finish it +all within eight days. If you do that you shall have my daughter as +your reward.” + +The King’s son began, and dug and shovelled without leaving off, but +when after seven days he saw how little he had done, and how all his +work was as good as nothing, he fell into great sorrow and gave up all +hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the Fox appeared and said, +“You do not deserve that I should take any trouble about you; but just +go away and lie down to sleep, and I will do the work for you.” + +The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window the hill +had gone. The youth ran, full of joy, to the King, and told him that +the task was fulfilled, and whether he liked it or not, the King had to +hold to his word and give him his daughter. + +So the two set forth together, and it was not long before the trusty +Fox came up with them. “You have certainly got what is best,” said he, +“but the Golden Horse also belongs to the maiden of the Golden Castle.” +“How shall I get it?” asked the youth. “That I will tell you,” answered +the Fox; “first take the beautiful maiden to the King who sent you to +the Golden Castle. There will be unheard-of rejoicing; they will gladly +give you the Golden Horse, and will bring it out to you. Mount it as +soon as possible, and offer your hand to all in farewell; last of all +to the beautiful maiden. And as soon as you have taken her hand swing +her up on to the horse, and gallop away, and no one will be able to +bring you back, for the horse runs faster than the wind.” + +All was carried out successfully, and the King’s son carried off the +beautiful princess on the Golden Horse. + +The Fox did not remain behind, and he said to the youth, “Now I will +help you to get the Golden Bird. When you come near to the castle where +the Golden Bird is to be found, let the maiden get down, and I will +take her into my care. Then ride with the Golden Horse into the +castle-yard; there will be great rejoicing at the sight, and they will +bring out the Golden Bird for you. As soon as you have the cage in your +hand gallop back to us, and take the maiden away again.” + +When the plan had succeeded, and the King’s son was about to ride home +with his treasures, the Fox said, “Now you shall reward me for my +help.” “What do you require for it?” asked the youth. “When you get +into the wood yonder, shoot me dead, and chop off my head and feet.” + +“That would be fine gratitude,” said the King’s son. “I cannot possibly +do that for you.” + +The Fox said, “If you will not do it I must leave you, but before I go +away I will give you a piece of good advice. Be careful about two +things. Buy no gallows’-flesh, and do not sit at the edge of any well.” +And then he ran into the wood. + +The youth thought, “That is a wonderful beast, he has strange whims; +who is going to buy gallows’-flesh? and the desire to sit at the edge +of a well it has never yet seized me.” + +He rode on with the beautiful maiden, and his road took him again +through the village in which his two brothers had remained. There was a +great stir and noise, and, when he asked what was going on, he was told +that two men were going to be hanged. As he came nearer to the place he +saw that they were his brothers, who had been playing all kinds of +wicked pranks, and had squandered all their wealth. He inquired whether +they could not be set free. “If you will pay for them,” answered the +people; “but why should you waste your money on wicked men, and buy +them free.” He did not think twice about it, but paid for them, and +when they were set free they all went on their way together. + +They came to the wood where the Fox had first met them, as it was cool +and pleasant within it, the two brothers said, “Let us rest a little by +the well, and eat and drink.” He agreed, and whilst they were talking +he forgot himself, and sat down upon the edge of the well without +thinking of any evil. But the two brothers threw him backwards into the +well, took the maiden, the Horse, and the Bird, and went home to their +father. “Here we bring you not only the Golden Bird,” said they; “we +have won the Golden Horse also, and the maiden from the Golden Castle.” +Then was there great joy; but the Horse would not eat, the Bird would +not sing, and the maiden sat and wept. + +But the youngest brother was not dead. By good fortune the well was +dry, and he fell upon soft moss without being hurt, but he could not +get out again. Even in this strait the faithful Fox did not leave him: +it came and leapt down to him, and upbraided him for having forgotten +its advice. “But yet I cannot give it up so,” he said; “I will help you +up again into daylight.” He bade him grasp his tail and keep tight hold +of it; and then he pulled him up. + +“You are not out of all danger yet,” said the Fox. “Your brothers were +not sure of your death, and have surrounded the wood with watchers, who +are to kill you if you let yourself be seen.” But a poor man was +sitting upon the road, with whom the youth changed clothes, and in this +way he got to the King’s palace. + +No one knew him, but the Bird began to sing, the Horse began to eat, +and the beautiful maiden left off weeping. The King, astonished, asked, +“What does this mean?” Then the maiden said, “I do not know, but I have +been so sorrowful and now I am so happy! I feel as if my true +bridegroom had come.” She told him all that had happened, although the +other brothers had threatened her with death if she were to betray +anything. + +The King commanded that all people who were in his castle should be +brought before him; and amongst them came the youth in his ragged +clothes; but the maiden knew him at once and fell upon his neck. The +wicked brothers were seized and put to death, but he was married to the +beautiful maiden and declared heir to the King. + +But how did it fare with the poor Fox? Long afterwards the King’s son +was once again walking in the wood, when the Fox met him and said, “You +have everything now that you can wish for, but there is never an end to +my misery, and yet it is in your power to free me,” and again he asked +him with tears to shoot him dead and chop off his head and feet. So he +did it, and scarcely was it done when the Fox was changed into a man, +and was no other than the brother of the beautiful princess, who at +last was freed from the magic charm which had been laid upon him. And +now nothing more was wanting to their happiness as long as they lived. + + + +58 The Dog and the Sparrow + +A sheep-dog had not a good master, but, on the contrary, one who let +him suffer hunger. As he could stay no longer with him, he went quite +sadly away. On the road he met a sparrow who said, “Brother dog, why +art thou so sad?” The dog replied, “I am hungry, and have nothing to +eat.” Then said the sparrow, “Dear brother, come into the town with me, +and I will satisfy thy hunger.” So they went into the town together, +and when they came in front of a butcher’s shop the sparrow said to the +dog, “Stay there, and I will pick a bit of meat down for thee,” and he +alighted on the stall, looked about him to see that no one was +observing him, and pecked and pulled and tore so long at a piece which +lay on the edge, that it slipped down. Then the dog seized it, ran into +a corner, and devoured it. The sparrow said, “Now come with me to +another shop, and then I will get thee one more piece that thou mayst +be satisfied.” When the dog had devoured the second piece as well, the +sparrow asked, “Brother dog, hast thou now had enough?” “Yes, I have +had meat enough,” he answered, “but I have had no bread yet.” Said the +sparrow, “Thou shalt have that also, come with me.” Then he took him to +a baker’s shop, and pecked at a couple of little buns till they rolled +down, and as the dog wanted still more, he led him to another stall, +and again got bread for him. When that was consumed, the sparrow said, +“Brother dog, hast thou now had enough?” “Yes,” he replied, “now we +will walk awhile outside the town.” Then they both went out on to the +highway. It was, however, warm weather, and when they had walked a +little way the dog said, “I am tired, and would like to sleep.” “Well, +do sleep,” answered the sparrow, “and in the meantime I will seat +myself on a branch.” So the dog lay down on the road, and fell fast +asleep. Whilst he lay sleeping there, a waggoner came driving by, who +had a cart with three horses, laden with two barrels of wine. The +sparrow, however, saw that he was not going to turn aside, but was +staying in the wheel track in which the dog was lying, so it cried, +“Waggoner, don’t do it, or I will make thee poor.” The waggoner, +however, growled to himself, “Thou wilt not make me poor,” and cracked +his whip and drove the cart over the dog, and the wheels killed him. +Then the sparrow cried, “Thou hast run over my brother dog and killed +him, it shall cost thee thy cart and horses.” “Cart and horses indeed!” +said the waggoner. “What harm canst thou do me?” and drove onwards. +Then the sparrow crept under the cover of the cart, and pecked so long +at the same bung-hole that he got the bung out, and then all the wine +ran out without the driver noticing it. But once when he was looking +behind him he saw that the cart was dripping, and looked at the barrels +and saw that one of them was empty. “Unfortunate fellow that I am,” +cried he. “Not unfortunate enough yet,” said the sparrow, and flew on +to the head of one of the horses and pecked his eyes out. When the +driver saw that, he drew out his axe and wanted to hit the sparrow, but +the sparrow flew into the air, and he hit his horse on the head, and it +fell down dead. “Oh, what an unfortunate man I am,” cried he. “Not +unfortunate enough yet,” said the sparrow, and when the driver drove on +with the two horses, the sparrow again crept under the cover, and +pecked the bung out of the second cask, so all the wine was spilt. When +the driver became aware of it, he again cried, “Oh, what an unfortunate +man I am,” but the sparrow replied, “Not unfortunate enough yet,” and +seated himself on the head of the second horse, and pecked his eyes +out. The driver ran up to it and raised his axe to strike, but the +sparrow flew into the air and the blow struck the horse, which fell. +“Oh, what an unfortunate man I am.” “Not unfortunate enough yet,” said +the sparrow, and lighted on the third horse’s head, and pecked out his +eyes. The driver, in his rage, struck at the sparrow without looking +round, and did not hit him but killed his third horse likewise. “Oh, +what an unfortunate man I am,” cried he. “Not unfortunate enough yet,” +answered the sparrow. “Now will I make thee unfortunate in thy home,” +and flew away. + +The driver had to leave the waggon standing, and full of anger and +vexation went home. “Ah,” said he to his wife, “what misfortunes I have +had! My wine has run out, and the horses are all three dead!” “Alas, +husband,” she answered, “what a malicious bird has come into the house! +It has gathered together every bird there is in the world, and they +have fallen on our corn up there, and are devouring it.” Then he went +upstairs, and thousands and thousands of birds were sitting in the loft +and had eaten up all the corn, and the sparrow was sitting in the midst +of them. Then the driver cried, “Oh, what an unfortunate man I am?” + +“Not unfortunate enough yet!” answered the sparrow; “waggoner, it shall +cost thee thy life as well,” and flew out. + +Then the waggoner had lost all his property, and he went downstairs +into the room, sat down behind the stove and was quite furious and +bitter. But the sparrow sat outside in front of the window, and cried, +“Waggoner, it shall cost thee thy life.” Then the waggoner snatched the +axe and threw it at the sparrow, but it only broke the window, and did +not hit the bird. The sparrow now hopped in, placed itself on the stove +and cried, “Waggoner, it shall cost thee thy life.” The latter, quite +mad and blind with rage, smote the stove in twain, and as the sparrow +flew from one place to another so it fared with all his household +furniture, looking-glass, benches, table, and at last the walls of his +house, and yet he could not hit the bird. At length, however, he caught +it with his hand. Then his wife said, “Shall I kill it?” “No,” cried +he, “that would be too merciful. It shall die much more cruelly,” and +he took it and swallowed it whole. The sparrow, however, began to +flutter about in his body, and fluttered up again into the man’s mouth; +then it stretched out its head, and cried, “Waggoner, it shall still +cost thee thy life.” The driver gave the axe to his wife, and said, +“Wife, kill the bird in my mouth for me.” The woman struck, but missed +her blow, and hit the waggoner right on his head, so that he fell dead. +But the sparrow flew up and away. + + + +59 Frederick and Catherine + +There was once on a time a man who was called Frederick and a woman +called Catherine, who had married each other and lived together as +young married folks. One day Frederick said, “I will now go and plough, +Catherine; when I come back, there must be some roast meat on the table +for hunger, and a fresh draught for thirst.” “Just go, Frederick,” +answered Kate, “just go, I will have all ready for you.” Therefore when +dinner-time drew near she got a sausage out of the chimney, put it in +the frying-pan, put some butter to it, and set it on the fire. The +sausage began to fry and to hiss, Catherine stood beside it and held +the handle of the pan, and had her own thoughts as she was doing it. +Then it occurred to her, “While the sausage is getting done thou +couldst go into the cellar and draw beer.” So she set the frying-pan +safely on the fire, took a can, and went down into the cellar to draw +beer. The beer ran into the can and Kate watched it, and then she +thought, “Oh, dear! The dog upstairs is not fastened up, it might get +the sausage out of the pan. Well thought of.” And in a trice she was up +the cellar-steps again, but the Spitz had the sausage in its mouth +already, and trailed it away on the ground. But Catherine, who was not +idle, set out after it, and chased it a long way into the field; the +dog, however, was swifter than Catherine and did not let the sausage +journey easily, but skipped over the furrows with it. “What’s gone is +gone!” said Kate, and turned round, and as she had run till she was +weary, she walked quietly and comfortably, and cooled herself. During +this time the beer was still running out of the cask, for Kate had not +turned the tap. And when the can was full and there was no other place +for it, it ran into the cellar and did not stop until the whole cask +was empty. As soon as Kate was on the steps she saw the mischance. +“Good gracious!” she cried. “What shall I do now to stop Frederick +knowing it!” She thought for a while, and at last she remembered that +up in the garret was still standing a sack of the finest wheat flour +from the last fair, and she would fetch that down and strew it over the +beer. “Yes,” said she, “he who saves a thing when he ought, has it +afterwards when he needs it,” and she climbed up to the garret and +carried the sack below, and threw it straight down on the can of beer, +which she knocked over, and Frederick’s draught swam also in the +cellar. “It is all right,” said Kate, “where the one is the other ought +to be also,” and she strewed the meal over the whole cellar. When it +was done she was heartily delighted with her work, and said, “How clean +and wholesome it does look here!” At mid-day home came Frederick: “Now, +wife, what have you ready for me?” “Ah, Freddy,” she answered, “I was +frying a sausage for you, but whilst I was drawing the beer to drink +with it, the dog took it away out of the pan, and whilst I was running +after the dog, all the beer ran out, and whilst I was drying up the +beer with the flour, I knocked over the can as well, but be easy, the +cellar is quite dry again.” Said Frederick, “Kate, Kate, you should not +have done that! to let the sausage be carried off and the beer run out +of the cask, and throw out all our flour into the bargain!” “Indeed, +Frederick, I did not know that, you should have told me.” The man +thought, “If my wife is like this, I must look after things more.” Now +he had got together a good number of thalers which he changed into +gold, and said to Catherine, “Look, these are counters for playing +games; I will put them in a pot and bury them in the stable under the +cow’s manger, but mind you keep away from them, or it will be the worse +for you.” Said she, “Oh, no, Frederick, I certainly will not go.” And +when Frederick was gone some pedlars came into the village who had +cheap earthen-bowls and pots, and asked the young woman if there was +nothing she wanted to bargain with them for? “Oh, dear people,” said +Catherine, “I have no money and can buy nothing, but if you have any +use for yellow counters I will buy of you.” “Yellow counters, why not? +But just let us see them.” “Then go into the stable and dig under the +cow’s manger, and you will find the yellow counters. I am not allowed +to go there.” The rogues went thither, dug and found pure gold. Then +they laid hold of it, ran away, and left their pots and bowls behind in +the house. Catherine thought she must use her new things, and as she +had no lack in the kitchen already without these, she knocked the +bottom out of every pot, and set them all as ornaments on the paling +which went round about the house. When Frederick came and saw the new +decorations, he said, “Catherine, what have you been about?” “I have +bought them, Frederick, for the counters which were under the cow’s +manger. I did not go there myself, the pedlars had to dig them out for +themselves.” “Ah, wife,” said Frederick, “what have you done? Those +were not counters, but pure gold, and all our wealth; you should not +have done that.” “Indeed, Frederick,” said she, “I did not know that, +you should have forewarned me.” + +Catherine stood for a while and bethought to herself; then she said, +“Listen, Frederick, we will soon get the gold back again, we will run +after the thieves.” “Come, then,” said Frederick, “we will try it; but +take with you some butter and cheese that we may have something to eat +on the way.” “Yes, Frederick, I will take them.” They set out, and as +Frederick was the better walker, Catherine followed him. “It is to my +advantage,” thought she, “when we turn back I shall be a little way in +advance.” Then she came to a hill where there were deep ruts on both +sides of the road. “There one can see,” said Catherine, “how they have +torn and skinned and galled the poor earth, it will never be whole +again as long as it lives,” and in her heart’s compassion she took her +butter and smeared the ruts right and left, that they might not be so +hurt by the wheels, and as she was thus bending down in her charity, +one of the cheeses rolled out of her pocket down the hill. Said +Catherine, “I have made my way once up here, I will not go down again; +another may run and fetch it back.” So she took another cheese and +rolled it down. But the cheeses did not come back, so she let a third +run down, thinking. “Perhaps they are waiting for company, and do not +like to walk alone.” As all three stayed away she said, “I do not know +what that can mean, but it may perhaps be that the third has not found +the way, and has gone wrong, I will just send the fourth to call it.” +But the fourth did no better than the third. Then Catherine was angry, +and threw down the fifth and sixth as well, and these were her last. +She remained standing for some time watching for their coming, but when +they still did not come, she said, “Oh, you are good folks to send in +search of death, you stay a fine long time away! Do you think I will +wait any longer for you? I shall go my way, you may run after me; you +have younger legs than I.” Catherine went on and found Frederick, who +was standing waiting for her because he wanted something to eat. “Now +just let us have what you have brought with you,” said he. She gave him +the dry bread. “Where have you the butter and the cheeses?” asked the +man. “Ah, Freddy,” said Catherine, “I smeared the cart-ruts with the +butter and the cheeses will come soon; one ran away from me, so I sent +the others after to call it.” Said Frederick, “You should not have done +that, Catherine, to smear the butter on the road, and let the cheeses +run down the hill!” “Really, Frederick, you should have told me.” Then +they ate the dry bread together, and Frederick said, “Catherine, did +you make the house safe when you came away?” “No, Frederick, you should +have told me to do it before.” “Then go home again, and make the house +safe before we go any farther, and bring with you something else to +eat. I will wait here for you.” Catherine went back and thought, +“Frederick wants something more to eat, he does not like butter and +cheese, so I will take with me a handkerchief full of dried pears and a +pitcher of vinegar for him to drink.” Then she bolted the upper half of +the door fast, but unhinged the lower door, and took it on her back, +believing that when she had placed the door in security the house must +be well taken care of. Catherine took her time on the way, and thought, +“Frederick will rest himself so much the longer.” When she had once +reached him she said, “Here is the house-door for you, Frederick, and +now you can take care of the house yourself.” “Oh, heavens,” said he, +“what a wise wife I have! She takes the under-door off the hinges that +everything may run in, and bolts the upper one. It is now too late to +go back home again, but since you have brought the door here, you shall +just carry it farther.” “I will carry the door, Frederick, but the +dried pears and the vinegar-jug will be too heavy for me, I will hang +them on the door, it may carry them.” + +And now they went into the forest, and sought the rogues, but did not +find them. At length as it grew dark they climbed into a tree and +resolved to spend the night there. Scarcely, however, had they sat down +at the top of it than the rascals came thither who carry away with them +what does not want to go, and find things before they are lost. They +sat down under the very tree in which Frederick and Catherine were +sitting, lighted a fire, and were about to share their booty. Frederick +got down on the other side and collected some stones together. Then he +climbed up again with them, and wished to throw them at the thieves and +kill them. The stones, however, did not hit them, and the knaves cried, +“It will soon be morning, the wind is shaking down the fir-apples.” +Catherine still had the door on her back, and as it pressed so heavily +on her, she thought it was the fault of the dried pears, and said, +“Frederick, I must throw the pears down.” “No, Catherine, not now,” he +replied, “they might betray us.” “Oh, but, Frederick, I must! They +weigh me down far too much.” “Do it, then, and be hanged!” Then the +dried pears rolled down between the branches, and the rascals below +said, “The leaves are falling.” + +A short time afterwards, as the door was still heavy, Catherine said, +“Ah, Frederick, I must pour out the vinegar.” “No, Catherine, you must +not, it might betray us.” “Ah, but, Frederick, I must, it weighs me +down far too much.” “Then do it and be hanged!” So she emptied out the +vinegar, and it besprinkled the robbers. They said amongst themselves, +“The dew is already falling.” At length Catherine thought, “Can it +really be the door which weighs me down so?” and said, “Frederick, I +must throw the door down.” “No, not now, Catherine, it might discover +us.” “Oh, but, Frederick, I must. It weighs me down far too much.” “Oh, +no, Catherine, do hold it fast.” “Ah, Frederick, I am letting it fall!” +“Let it go, then, in the devil’s name.” Then it fell down with a +violent clatter, and the rascals below cried, “The devil is coming down +the tree!” and they ran away and left everything behind them. Early +next morning, when the two came down they found all their gold again, +and carried it home. + +When they were once more at home, Frederick said, “And now, Catherine, +you, too, must be industrious and work.” “Yes, Frederick, I will soon +do that, I will go into the field and cut corn.” When Catherine got +into the field, she said to herself, “Shall I eat before I cut, or +shall I sleep before I cut? Oh, I will eat first.” Then Catherine ate +and eating made her sleepy, and she began to cut, and half in a dream +cut all her clothes to pieces, her apron, her gown, and her shift. When +Catherine awoke again after a long sleep she was standing there +half-naked, and said to herself, “Is it I, or is it not I? Alas, it is +not I.” In the meantime night came, and Catherine ran into the village, +knocked at her husband’s window, and cried, “Frederick.” + +“What is the matter?” “I should very much like to know if Catherine is +in?” “Yes, yes,” replied Frederick, “she must be in and asleep.” + +Said she, “’Tis well, then I am certainly at home already,” and ran +away. + +Outside Catherine found some vagabonds who were going to steal. Then +she went to them and said, “I will help you to steal.” The rascals +thought that she knew the situation of the place, and were willing. +Catherine went in front of the houses, and cried, “Good folks, have you +anything? We want to steal.” The thieves thought to themselves, “That’s +a fine way of doing things,” and wished themselves once more rid of +Catherine. Then they said to her, “Outside the village the pastor has +some turnips in the field. Go there and pull up some turnips for us.” +Catherine went to the ground, and began to pull them up, but was so +idle that she did not gather them together. Then a man came by, saw +her, and stood still and thought that it was the devil who was thus +rooting amongst the turnips. He ran away into the village to the +pastor, and said, “Mr. Pastor, the devil is in your turnip-ground, +rooting up turnips.” “Ah, heavens,” answered the pastor, “I have a lame +foot, I cannot go out and drive him away.” Said the man, “Then I will +carry you on my back,” and he carried him out on his back. And when +they came to the ground, Catherine arose and stood up her full height. +“Ah, the devil!” cried the pastor, and both hurried away, and in his +great fright the pastor could run better with his lame foot than the +man who had carried him on his back could do with his sound one. + + + +60 The Two Brothers + +There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other poor. +The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The poor one supported +himself by making brooms, and was good and honourable. The poor one had +two children, who were twin brothers and as like each other as two +drops of water. The two boys went backwards and forwards to the rich +house, and often got some of the scraps to eat. It happened once when +the poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood, that he saw +a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any he had ever +chanced to meet with. He picked up a small stone, threw it at him, and +was lucky enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell down, and +the bird flew away. The man took the feather and carried it to his +brother, who looked at it and said, “It is pure gold!” and gave him a +great deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into a birch-tree, +and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the same bird flew +out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an egg lay inside +it, which was of gold. He took the egg home with him, and carried it to +his brother, who again said, “It is pure gold,” and gave him what it +was worth. At last the goldsmith said, “I should indeed like to have +the bird itself.” The poor man went into the forest for the third time, +and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree, so he took a stone +and brought it down and carried it to his brother, who gave him a great +heap of gold for it. “Now I can get on,” thought he, and went +contentedly home. + +The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what kind of a +bird it was. He called his wife and said, “Roast me the gold bird, and +take care that none of it is lost. I have a fancy to eat it all +myself.” The bird, however, was no common one, but of so wondrous a +kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver found every morning a piece +of gold beneath his pillow. The woman made the bird ready, put it on +the spit, and let it roast. Now it happened that while it was at the +fire, and the woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on account of +some other work, the two children of the poor broom-maker ran in, stood +by the spit and turned it round once or twice. And as at that very +moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the dripping-tin, one +of the boys said, “We will eat these two little bits; I am so hungry, +and no one will ever miss them.” Then the two ate the pieces, but the +woman came into the kitchen and saw that they were eating something and +said, “What have ye been eating?” “Two little morsels which fell out of +the bird,” answered they. “That must have been the heart and the +liver,” said the woman, quite frightened, and in order that her husband +might not miss them and be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took +out his heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird. When it +was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who consumed it all alone, +and left none of it. Next morning, however, when he felt beneath his +pillow, and expected to bring out the piece of gold, no more gold +pieces were there than there had always been. + +The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune had fallen +to their lot. Next morning when they arose, something fell rattling to +the ground, and when they picked it up there were two gold pieces! They +took them to their father, who was astonished and said, “How can that +have happened?” When next morning they again found two, and so on +daily, he went to his brother and told him the strange story. The +goldsmith at once knew how it had come to pass, and that the children +had eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to +revenge himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said +to the father, “Thy children are in league with the Evil One, do not +take the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in thy house, +for he has them in his power, and may ruin thee likewise.” The father +feared the Evil One, and painful as it was to him, he nevertheless led +the twins forth into the forest, and with a sad heart left them there. + +And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the way home +again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves more and more. +At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, “To whom do you children +belong?” “We are the poor broom-maker’s boys,” they replied, and they +told him that their father would not keep them any longer in the house +because a piece of gold lay every morning under their pillows. “Come,” +said the huntsman, “that is nothing so very bad, if at the same time +you keep honest, and are not idle.” As the good man liked the children, +and had none of his own, he took them home with him and said, “I will +be your father, and bring you up till you are big.” They learnt +huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which each of them found +when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case they should need it in +the future. + +When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took them into the +forest with him, and said, “To-day shall you make your trial shot, so +that I may release you from your apprenticeship, and make you +huntsmen.” They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a long +time, but no game appeared. The huntsman, however, looked above him and +saw a covey of wild geese flying in the form of a triangle, and said to +one of them, “Shoot me down one from each corner.” He did it, and thus +accomplished his trial shot. Soon after another covey came flying by in +the form of the figure two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring +down one from each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful. +“Now,” said the foster-father, “I pronounce you out of your +apprenticeship; you are skilled huntsmen.” Thereupon the two brothers +went forth together into the forest, and took counsel with each other +and planned something. And in the evening when they had sat down to +supper, they said to their foster-father, “We will not touch food, or +take one mouthful, until you have granted us a request.” Said he, +“What, then, is your request?” They replied, “We have now finished +learning, and we must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go +away and travel.” Then spake the old man joyfully, “You talk like brave +huntsmen, that which you desire has been my wish; go forth, all will go +well with you.” Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together. + +When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented each of them +with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them take as many of his +saved-up gold pieces as he chose. Then he accompanied them a part of +the way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright knife, and said, +“If ever you separate, stick this knife into a tree at the place where +you part, and when one of you goes back, he will will be able to see +how his absent brother is faring, for the side of the knife which is +turned in the direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but +will remain bright as long as he is alive.” The two brothers went still +farther onwards, and came to a forest which was so large that it was +impossible for them to get out of it in one day. So they passed the +night in it, and ate what they had put in their hunting-pouches, but +they walked all the second day likewise, and still did not get out. As +they had nothing to eat, one of them said, “We must shoot something for +ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger,” and loaded his gun, and +looked about him. And when an old hare came running up towards them, he +laid his gun on his shoulder, but the hare cried, + +“Dear huntsman, do but let me live, +Two little ones to thee I’ll give,” + + +and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two young ones. But +the little creatures played so merrily, and were so pretty, that the +huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to kill them. They therefore +kept them with them, and the little hares followed on foot. Soon after +this, a fox crept past; they were just going to shoot it, but the fox +cried, + +“Dear hunstman, do but let me live, +Two little ones I’ll also give.” + + +He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did not like to +kill them either, but gave them to the hares for company, and they +followed behind. It was not long before a wolf strode out of the +thicket; the huntsmen made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried, + +“Dear huntsman, do but let me live, +Two little ones I’ll likewise give.” + + +The huntsmen put the two wolves beside the other animals, and they +followed behind them. Then a bear came who wanted to trot about a +little longer, and cried: + +“Dear huntsman, do but let me live, +Two little ones I, too, will give.” + + +The two young bears were added to the others, and there were already +eight of them. At length who came? A lion came, and tossed his mane. +But the huntsmen did not let themselves be frightened and aimed at him +likewise, but the lion also said, + +“Dear huntsman, do but let me live, +Two little ones I, too, will give.” + + +And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen had two +lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares, who followed +them and served them. In thu meantime their hunger was not appeased by +this, and they said to the foxes, “Hark ye, cunning fellows, provide us +with something to eat. You are crafty and deep.” They replied, “Not far +from here lies a village, from which we have already brought many a +fowl; we will show you the way there.” So they went into the village, +bought themselves something to eat, had some food given to their +beasts, and then travelled onwards. The foxes, however, knew their way +very well about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and were +able to guide the huntsmen. + +Now they travelled about for a while, but could find no situations +where they could remain together, so they said, “There is nothing else +for it, we must part.” They divided the animals, so that each of them +had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave of +each other, promised to love each other like brothers till their death, +and stuck the knife which their foster-father had given them, into a +tree, after which one went east, and the other went west. + +The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which was all +hung with black crape. He went into an inn, and asked the host if he +could accommodate his animals. The innkeeper gave him a stable, where +there was a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out and fetched +himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox fetched himself a hen, and +when he had devoured that got the cock as well, but the wolf, the bear, +and the lion could not get out because they were too big. Then the +innkeeper let them be taken to a place where a cow was just then lying +on the grass, that they might eat till they were satisfied. And when +the huntsman had taken care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why +the town was thus hung with black crape? Said the host, “Because our +King’s only daughter is to die to-morrow.” The huntsman inquired if she +was “sick unto death?” “No,” answered the host, “she is vigorous and +healthy, nevertheless she must die!” “How is that?” asked the huntsman. +“There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a dragon who +every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the whole country waste, +and now all the maidens have already been given to him, and there is no +longer anyone left but the King’s daughter, yet there is no mercy for +her; she must be given up to him, and that is to be done to-morrow.” +Said the huntsman, “Why is the dragon not killed?” “Ah,” replied the +host, “so many knights have tried it, but it has cost all of them their +lives. The King has promised that he who conquers the dragon shall have +his daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern the kingdom after his +own death.” + +The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took his +animals, and with them ascended the dragon’s hill. A little church +stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups were standing, +with the inscription, “Whosoever empties the cups will become the +strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the sword which is +buried before the threshold of the door.” The huntsman did not drink, +but went out and sought for the sword in the ground, but was unable to +move it from its place. Then he went in and emptied the cups, and now +he was strong enough to take up the sword, and his hand could quite +easily wield it. When the hour came when the maiden was to be delivered +over to the dragon, the King, the marshal, and courtiers accompanied +her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the dragon’s hill, and thought +it was the dragon standing there waiting for her, and did not want to +go up to him, but at last, because otherwise the whole town would have +been destroyed, she was forced to go the miserable journey. The King +and courtiers returned home full of grief; the King’s marshal, however, +was to stand still, and see all from a distance. + +When the King’s daughter got to the top of the hill, it was not the +dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who comforted her, +and said he would save her, led her into the church, and locked her in. +It was not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither with loud +roaring. When he perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and said, +“What business hast thou here on the hill?” The huntsman answered, “I +want to fight with thee.” Said the dragon, “Many knights have left +their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of thee too,” and he +breathed fire out of seven jaws. The fire was to have lighted the dry +grass, and the huntsman was to have been suffocated in the heat and +smoke, but the animals came running up and trampled out the fire. Then +the dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it +sang through the air, and struck off three of his heads. Then the +dragon grew right furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames +of fire over the huntsman, and was about to plunge down on him, but the +huntsman once more drew out his sword, and again cut off three of his +heads. The monster became faint and sank down, nevertheless it was just +able to rush upon the huntsman, but he with his last strength smote its +tail off, and as he could fight no longer, called up his animals who +tore it in pieces. When the struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked +the church, and found the King’s daughter lying on the floor, as she +had lost her senses with anguish and terror during the contest. He +carried her out, and when she came to herself once more, and opened her +eyes, he showed her the dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she +was now delivered. She rejoiced and said, “Now thou wilt be my dearest +husband, for my father has promised me to him who kills the dragon.” +Thereupon she took off her necklace of coral, and divided it amongst +the animals in order to reward them, and the lion received the golden +clasp. Her pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she +gave to the huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragon’s +seven heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved them +carefully. + +That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the battle, +he said to the maiden, “We are both faint and weary, we will sleep +awhile.” Then she said, “yes,” and they lay down on the ground, and the +huntsman said to the lion, “Thou shalt keep watch, that no one +surprises us in our sleep,” and both fell asleep. The lion lay down +beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the fight, that he +called to the bear and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little: +if anything comes, waken me.” Then the bear lay down beside him, but he +also was tired, and called the wolf and said, “Lie down by me, I must +sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me.” Then the wolf lay +down by him, but he was tired likewise, and called the fox and said, +“Lie down by me, I must sleep a little; if anything comes, waken me.” +Then the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called the +hare and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little, and if +anything should come, waken me.” Then the hare sat down by him, but the +poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he could call there to +keep watch, and fell asleep. And now the King’s daughter, the huntsman, +the lion, the bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare, were all sleeping +a sound sleep. The marshal, however, who was to look on from a +distance, took courage when he did not see the dragon flying away with +the maiden, and finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended +it. There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground, and +not far from it were the King’s daughter and a huntsman with his +animals, and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep. And as he was +wicked and godless he took his sword, cut off the huntsman’s head, and +seized the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill. Then she +awoke and was terrified, but the marshal said, “Thou art in my hands, +thou shalt say that it was I who killed the dragon.” “I cannot do +that,” she replied, “for it was a huntsman with his animals who did +it.” Then he drew his sword, and threatened to kill her if she did not +obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it. Then he took her +to the King, who did not know how to contain himself for joy when he +once more looked on his dear child in life, whom he had believed to +have been torn to pieces by the monster. The marshal said to him, “I +have killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and the whole kingdom +as well, therefore I demand her as my wife, as was promised.” The King +said to the maiden, “Is what he says true?” “Ah, yes,” she answered, +“it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the wedding +celebrated until after a year and a day,” for she thought in that time +she should hear something of her dear huntsman. + +The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their dead +master on the dragon’s hill, and there came a great humble-bee and +lighted on the hare’s nose, but the hare wiped it off with his paw, and +went on sleeping. The humble-bee came a second time, but the hare again +rubbed it off and slept on. Then it came for the third time, and stung +his nose so that he awoke. As soon as the hare was awake, he roused the +fox, and the fox, the wolf, and the wolf the bear, and the bear the +lion. And when the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his +master was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried, “Who has done +that? Bear, why didst thou not waken me?” The bear asked the wolf, “Why +didst thou not waken me?” and the wolf the fox, “Why didst thou not +waken me?” and the fox the hare, “Why didst thou not waken me?” The +poor hare alone did not know what answer to make, and the blame rested +with him. Then they were just going to fall upon him, but he entreated +them and said, “Kill me not, I will bring our master to life again. I +know a mountain on which a root grows which, when placed in the mouth +of any one, cures him of all illness and every wound. But the mountain +lies two hundred hours journey from here.” The lion said, “In +four-and-twenty hours must thou have run thither and have come back, +and have brought the root with thee.” Then the hare sprang away, and in +four-and-twenty hours he was back, and brought the root with him. The +lion put the huntsman’s head on again, and the hare placed the root in +his mouth, and immediately everything united together again, and his +heart beat, and life came back. Then the huntsman awoke, and was +alarmed when he did not see the maiden, and thought, “She must have +gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me.” The lion +in his great haste had put his master’s head on the wrong way round, +but the huntsman did not observe it because of his melancholy thoughts +about the King’s daughter. But at noon, when he was going to eat +something, he saw that his head was turned backwards and could not +understand it, and asked the animals what had happened to him in his +sleep. Then the lion told him that they, too, had all fallen asleep +from weariness, and on awaking, had found him dead with his head cut +off, that the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in +his haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but that he would +repair his mistake. Then he tore the huntsman’s head off again, turned +it round, and the hare healed it with the root. + +The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and travelled about the world, +and made his animals dance before people. It came to pass that +precisely at the end of one year he came back to the same town where he +had delivered the King’s daughter from the dragon, and this time the +town was gaily hung with red cloth. Then he said to the host, “What +does this mean? Last year the town was all hung with black crape, what +means the red cloth to-day?” The host answered, “Last year our King’s +daughter was to have been delivered over to the dragon, but the marshal +fought with it and killed it, and so to-morrow their wedding is to be +solemnized, and that is why the town was then hung with black crape for +mourning, and is to-day covered with red cloth for joy?” + +Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman said at +mid-day to the inn-keeper, “Do you believe, sir host, that I while with +you here to-day shall eat bread from the King’s own table?” “Nay,” said +the host, “I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that will not come +true.” The huntsman accepted the wager, and set against it a purse with +just the same number of gold pieces. Then he called the hare and said, +“Go, my dear runner, and fetch me some of the bread which the King is +eating.” Now the little hare was the lowest of the animals, and could +not transfer this order to any the others, but had to get on his legs +himself. “Alas!” thought he, “if I bound through the streets thus +alone, the butchers’ dogs will all be after me.” It happened as he +expected, and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in his +good skin. But he sprang away, have you have never seen one running? +and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier being aware +of it. Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out, but the soldier +did not understand a jest, and struck them with the butt-end of his +gun, till they ran away yelling and howling. As soon as the hare saw +that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and straight to the +King’s daughter, sat down under her chair, and scratched at her foot. +Then she said, “Wilt thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. The +hare scratched her foot for the second time, and she again said, “Wilt +thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. But the hare did not let +itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched her for the third +time. Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by its collar. She took +him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and said, “Dear Hare, +what dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, +is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread like that which the +King eats.” Then she was full of joy and had the baker summoned, and +ordered him to bring a loaf such as was eaten by the King. The little +hare said, “But the baker must likewise carry it thither for me, that +the butchers’ dogs may do no harm to me.” The baker carried if for him +as far as the door of the inn, and then the hare got on his hind legs, +took the loaf in his front paws, and carried it to his master. Then +said the huntsman, “Behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold are +mine.” The host was astonished, but the huntsman went on to say, “Yes, +sir host, I have the bread, but now I will likewise have some of the +King’s roast meat.” + +The host said, “I should indeed like to see that,” but he would make no +more wagers. The huntsman called the fox and said, “My little fox, go +and fetch me some roast meat, such as the King eats.” The red fox knew +the bye-ways better, and went by holes and corners without any dog +seeing him, seated himself under the chair of the King’s daughter, and +scratched her foot. Then she looked down and recognized the fox by its +collar, took him into her chamber with her and said, “Dear fox, what +dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is +here, and has sent me. I am to ask for some roast meat such as the King +is eating.” Then she made the cook come, who was obliged to prepare a +roast joint, the same as was eaten by the King, and to carry it for the +fox as far as the door. Then the fox took the dish, waved away with his +tail the flies which had settled on the meat, and then carried it to +his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “bread and meat are +here but now I will also have proper vegetables with it, such as are +eaten by the King.” Then he called the wolf, and said, “Dear Wolf, go +thither and fetch me vegetables such as the King eats.” Then the wolf +went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and when he got to +the King’s daughter’s chamber, he twitched at the back of her dress, so +that she was forced to look round. She recognized him by his collar, +and took him into her chamber with her, and said, “Dear Wolf, what dost +thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, I +am to ask for some vegetables, such as the King eats.” Then she made +the cook come, and he had to make ready a dish of vegetables, such as +the King ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and +then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his master. +“Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “now I have bread and meat and +vegetables, but I will also have some pastry to eat like that which the +King eats.” He called the bear, and said, “Dear Bear, thou art fond of +licking anything sweet; go and bring me some confectionery, such as the +King eats.” Then the bear trotted to the palace, and every one got out +of his way, but when he went to the guard, they presented their +muskets, and would not let him go into the royal palace. But he got up +on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears, right and +left, with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up, and then he went +straight to the King’s daughter, placed himself behind her, and growled +a little. Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and bade him go +into her room with her, and said, “Dear Bear, what dost thou want?” He +answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask +for some confectionery, such as the King eats.” Then she summoned her +confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the King ate, and +carry it to the door for the bear; then the bear first licked up the +comfits which had rolled down, and then he stood upright, took the +dish, and carried it to his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the +huntsman, “now I have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery, but I +will drink wine also, and such as the King drinks.” He called his lion +to him and said, “Dear Lion, thou thyself likest to drink till thou art +intoxicated, go and fetch me some wine, such as is drunk by the King.” +Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled from him, +and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way against him, +but he did but roar once, and they all ran away. Then the lion went to +the royal apartment, and knocked at the door with his tail. Then the +King’s daughter came forth, and was almost afraid of the lion, but she +knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace, and bade him go with her +into her chamber, and said, “Dear Lion, what wilt thou have?” He +answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask +for some wine such as is drunk by the King.” Then she bade the +cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine like that +which was drunk by the King. The lion said, “I will go with him, and +see that I get the right wine.” Then he went down with the cup-bearer, +and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted to draw him some of the +common wine that was drunk by the King’s servants, but the lion said, +“Stop, I will taste the wine first,” and he drew half a measure, and +swallowed it down at one draught. “No,” said he, “that is not right.” +The cup-bearer looked at him askance, but went on, and was about to +give him some out of another barrel which was for the King’s marshal. +The lion said, “Stop, let me taste the wine first,” and drew half a +measure and drank it. “That is better, but still not right,” said he. +Then the cup-bearer grew angry and said, “How can a stupid animal like +you understand wine?” But the lion gave him a blow behind the ears, +which made him fall down by no means gently, and when he had got up +again, he conducted the lion quite silently into a little cellar apart, +where the King’s wine lay, from which no one ever drank. The lion first +drew half a measure and tried the wine, and then he said, That may +possibly be the right sort, and bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of +it. And now they went upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the +cellar into the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather +drunk, and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the +door for him, and then the lion took the handle of the basket in his +mouth, and took it to his master. The huntsman said, “Behold, sir host, +here have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as the +King has, and now I will dine with my animals,” and he sat down and ate +and drank, and gave the hare, the fox, the wolf, the bear, and the lion +also to eat and to drink, and was joyful, for he saw that the King’s +daughter still loved him. And when he had finished his dinner, he said, +“Sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the King eats and drinks, and +now I will go to the King’s court and marry the King’s daughter.” Said +the host, “How can that be, when she already has a betrothed husband, +and when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day?” Then the huntsman +drew forth the handkerchief which the King’s daughter had given him on +the dragon’s hill, and in which were folded the monster’s seven +tongues, and said, “That which I hold in my hand shall help me to do +it.” Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and said, “Whatever +I believe, I do not believe that, and I am willing to stake my house +and courtyard on it.” The huntsman, however, took a bag with a thousand +gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, “I stake that on it.” + +Now the King said to his daughter, at the royal table, “What did all +the wild animals want, which have been coming to thee, and going in and +out of my palace?” She replied, “I may not tell you, but send and have +the master of these animals brought, and you will do well.” The King +sent a servant to the inn, and invited the stranger, and the servant +came just as the huntsman had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then +said he, “Behold, sir host, now the King sends his servant and invites +me, but I do not go in this way.” And he said to the servant, “I +request the Lord King to send me royal clothing, and a carriage with +six horses, and servants to attend me.” When the King heard the answer, +he said to his daughter, “What shall I do?” She said, “Cause him to be +fetched as he desires to be, and you will do well.” Then the King sent +royal apparel, a carriage with six horses, and servants to wait on him. +When the huntsman saw them coming, he said, “Behold, sir host, now I am +fetched as I desired to be,” and he put on the royal garments, took the +handkerchief with the dragon’s tongues with him, and drove off to the +King. When the King saw him coming, he said to his daughter, “How shall +I receive him?” She answered, “Go to meet him and you will do well.” +Then the King went to meet him and led him in, and his animals +followed. The King gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and +the marshal, as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew +the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven heads of the +dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and the King said, “The seven +heads were cut off the dragon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give +him my daughter to wife.” The the huntsman stood up, opened the seven +mouths, and said, “Where are the seven tongues of the dragon?” Then was +the marshal terrified, and grew pale and knew not what answer he should +make, and at length in his anguish he said, “Dragons have no tongues.” +The huntsman said, “Liars ought to have none, but the dragon’s tongues +are the tokens of the victor,” and he unfolded the handkerchief, and +there lay all seven inside it. And he put each tongue in the mouth to +which it belonged, and it fitted exactly. Then he took the handkerchief +on which the name of the princess was embroidered, and showed it to the +maiden, and asked to whom she had given it, and she replied, “To him +who killed the dragon.” And then he called his animals, and took the +collar off each of them and the golden clasp from the lion, and showed +them to the maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered, “The +necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided them among the +animals who helped to conquer the dragon.” Then spake the huntsman, +“When I, tired with the fight, was resting and sleeping, the marshal +came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the King’s daughter, and +gave out that it was he who had killed the dragon, but that he lied I +prove with the tongues, the handkerchief, and the necklace.” And then +he related how his animals had healed him by means of a wonderful root, +and how he had travelled about with them for one year, and had at +length again come there and had learnt the treachery of the marshal by +the inn-keeper’s story. Then the King asked his daughter, “Is it true +that this man killed the dragon?” And she answered, “Yes, it is true. +Now can I reveal the wicked deed of the marshal, as it has come to +light without my connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be +silent. For this reason, however, did I make the condition that the +marriage should not be solemnized for a year and a day.” Then the King +bade twelve councillors be summoned who were to pronounce judgment on +the marshal, and they sentenced him to be torn to pieces by four bulls. +The marshal was therefore executed, but the King gave his daughter to +the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the whole kingdom. The +wedding was celebrated with great joy, and the young King caused his +father and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them with +treasures. Neither did he forget the inn-keeper, but sent for him and +said, “Behold, sir host, I have married the King’s daughter, and your +house and yard are mine.” The host said, “Yes, according to justice it +is so.” But the young King said, “It shall be done according to mercy,” +and told him that he should keep his house and yard, and gave him the +thousand pieces of gold as well. + +And now the young King and Queen were thoroughly happy, and lived in +gladness together. He often went out hunting because it was a delight +to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany him. In the +neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which it was reported that +it was haunted, and that whosoever did but enter it did not easily get +out again. The young King, however, had a great inclination to hunt in +it, and let the old King have no peace until he allowed him to do so. +So he rode forth with a great following, and when he came to the +forest, he saw a snow-white hart and said to his people, “Wait here +until I return, I want to chase that beautiful creature,” and he rode +into the forest after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants +halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so they rode +home, and told the young Queen that the young King had followed a white +hart into the enchanted forest, and had not come back again. Then she +was in the greatest concern about him. He, however, had still continued +to ride on and on after the beautiful wild animal, and had never been +able to overtake it; when he thought he was near enough to aim, he +instantly saw it bound away into the far distance, and at length it +vanished altogether. And now he perceived that he had penetrated deep +into the forest, and blew his horn but he received no answer, for his +attendants could not hear it. And as night, too, was falling, he saw +that he could not get home that day, so he dismounted from his horse, +lighted himself a fire near a tree, and resolved to spend the night by +it. While he was sitting by the fire, and his animals also were lying +down beside him, it seemed to him that he heard a human voice. He +looked round, but could perceived nothing. Soon afterwards, he again +heard a groan as if from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old +woman sitting in the tree, who wailed unceasingly, “Oh, oh, oh, how +cold I am!” Said he, “Come down, and warm thyself if thou art cold.” +But she said, “No, thy animals will bite me.” He answered, “They will +do thee no harm, old mother, do come down.” She, however, was a witch, +and said, “I will throw down a wand from the tree, and if thou strikest +them on the back with it, they will do me no harm.” Then she threw him +a small wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they lay still +and were turned into stone. And when the witch was safe from the +animals, she leapt down and touched him also with a wand, and changed +him to stone. Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the animals +into a vault, where many more such stones already lay. + +As, however, the young King did not come back at all, the Queen’s +anguish and care grew constantly greater. And it so happened that at +this very time the other brother who had turned to the east when they +separated, came into the kingdom. He had sought a situation, and had +found none, and had then travelled about here and there, and had made +his animals dance. Then it came into his mind that he would just go and +look at the knife that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at their +parting, that he might learn how his brother was. When he got there his +brother’s side of the knife was half rusted, and half bright. Then he +was alarmed and thought, “A great misfortune must have befallen my +brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the knife is still +bright.” He and his animals travelled towards the west, and when he +entered the gate of the town, the guard came to meet him, and asked if +he was to announce him to his consort the young Queen, who had for a +couple of days been in the greatest sorrow about his staying away, and +was afraid he had been killed in the enchanted forest? The sentries, +indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was the young King himself, +for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running behind him. +Then he saw that they were speaking of his brother, and thought, “It +will be better if I pass myself off for him, and then I can rescue him +more easily.” So he allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by +the guard, and was received with the greatest joy. The young Queen +indeed thought that he was her husband, and asked him why he had stayed +away so long. He answered, “I had lost myself in a forest, and could +not find my way out again any sooner.” At night he was taken to the +royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between him and the young +Queen; she did not know what that could mean, but did not venture to +ask. + +He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the meantime +inquired into everything which related to the enchanted forest, and at +last he said, “I must hunt there once more.” The King and the young +Queen wanted to persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against +them, and went forth with a larger following. When he had got into the +forest, it fared with him as with his brother; he saw a white hart and +said to his people, “Stay here, and wait until I return, I want to +chase the lovely wild beast,” and then he rode into the forest and his +animals ran after him. But he could not overtake the hart, and got so +deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night there. And +when he had lighted a fire, he heard some one wailing above him, “Oh, +oh, oh, how cold I am!” Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was +sitting in the tree. Said he, “If thou art cold, come down, little old +mother, and warm thyself.” She answered, “No, thy animals will bite +me.” But he said, “They will not hurt thee.” Then she cried, “I will +throw down a wand to thee, and if thou smitest them with it they will +do me no harm.” When the huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in +the old woman, and said, “I will not strike my animals. Come down, or I +will fetch thee.” Then she cried, “What dost thou want? Thou shalt not +touch me.” But he replied, “If thou dost not come, I will shoot thee.” +Said she, “Shoot away, I do not fear thy bullets!” Then he aimed, and +fired at her, but the witch was proof against all leaden bullets, and +laughed, and yelled and cried, “Thou shalt not hit me.” The huntsman +knew what to do, tore three silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his +gun with them, for against them her arts were useless, and when he +fired she fell down at once with a scream. Then he set his foot on her +and said, Old witch, if thou dost not instantly confess where my +brother is, I will seize thee with both my hands and throw thee into +the fire. She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and said, He and +his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone. Then he compelled her to +go thither with him, threatened her, and said, Old sea-cat, now shalt +thou make my brother and all the human beings lying here, alive again, +or thou shalt go into the fire! She took a wand and touched the stones, +and then his brother with his animals came to life again, and many +others, merchants, artizans, and shepherds, arose, thanked him for +their deliverance, and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers +saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced with all +their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound her and laid her on the +fire, and when she was burnt the forest opened of its own accord, and +was light and clear, and the King’s palace could be seen at about the +distance of a three hours walk. + +Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way told each +other their histories. And when the youngest said that he was ruler of +the whole country in the King’s stead, the other observed, “That I +remarked very well, for when I came to the town, and was taken for +thee, all royal honours were paid me; the young Queen looked on me as +her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep in thy bed.” When +the other heard that, he became so jealous and angry that he drew his +sword, and struck off his brother’s head. But when he saw him lying +there dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most violently: +“My brother delivered me,” cried he, “and I have killed him for it,” +and he bewailed him aloud. Then his hare came and offered to go and +bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought it while +yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to life again, and +knew nothing about the wound. + +After this they journeyed onwards, and the youngest said, “Thou lookest +like me, hast royal apparel on as I have, and the animals follow thee +as they do me; we will go in by opposite gates, and arrive at the same +time from the two sides in the aged King’s presence.” So they +separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from the one door and +from the other, and announced that the young King and the animals had +returned from the chase. The King said, “It is not possible, the gates +lie quite a mile apart.” In the meantime, however, the two brothers +entered the courtyard of the palace from opposite sides, and both +mounted the steps. Then the King said to the daughter, “Say which is +thy husband. Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell.” +Then she was in great distress, and could not tell; but at last she +remembered the necklace which she had given to the animals, and she +sought for and found her little golden clasp on the lion, and she cried +in her delight, “He who is followed by this lion is my true husband”. +Then the young King laughed and said, “Yes, he is the right one,” and +they sat down together to table, and ate and drank, and were merry. At +night when the young King went to bed, his wife said, “Why hast thou +for these last nights always laid a two-edged sword in our bed? I +thought thou hadst a wish to kill me.” Then he knew how true his +brother had been. + + + +61 The Little Peasant + +There was a certain village wherein no one lived but really rich +peasants, and just one poor one, whom they called the little peasant. +He had not even so much as a cow, and still less money to buy one, and +yet he and his wife did so wish to have one. One day he said to her, +“Hark you, I have a good thought, there is our gossip the carpenter, he +shall make us a wooden calf, and paint it brown, so that it look like +any other, and in time it will certainly get big and be a cow.” The +woman also liked the idea, and their gossip the carpenter cut and +planed the calf, and painted it as it ought to be, and made it with its +head hanging down as if it were eating. + +Next morning when the cows were being driven out, the little peasant +called the cow-herd and said, “Look, I have a little calf there, but it +is still small and has still to be carried.” The cow-herd said, “All +right, and took it in his arms and carried it to the pasture, and set +it among the grass.” The little calf always remained standing like one +which was eating, and the cow-herd said, “It will soon run alone, just +look how it eats already!” At night when he was going to drive the herd +home again, he said to the calf, “If thou canst stand there and eat thy +fill, thou canst also go on thy four legs; I don’t care to drag thee +home again in my arms.” But the little peasant stood at his door, and +waited for his little calf, and when the cow-herd drove the cows +through the village, and the calf was missing, he inquired where it +was. The cow-herd answered, “It is still standing out there eating. It +would not stop and come with us.” But the little peasant said, “Oh, but +I must have my beast back again.” Then they went back to the meadow +together, but some one had stolen the calf, and it was gone. The +cow-herd said, “It must have run away.” The peasant, however, said, +“Don’t tell me that,” and led the cow-herd before the mayor, who for +his carelessness condemned him to give the peasant a cow for the calf +which had run away. + +And now the little peasant and his wife had the cow for which they had +so long wished, and they were heartily glad, but they had no food for +it, and could give it nothing to eat, so it soon had to be killed. They +salted the flesh, and the peasant went into the town and wanted to sell +the skin there, so that he might buy a new calf with the proceeds. On +the way he passed by a mill, and there sat a raven with broken wings, +and out of pity he took him and wrapped him in the skin. As, however, +the weather grew so bad and there was a storm of rain and wind, he +could go no farther, and turned back to the mill and begged for +shelter. The miller’s wife was alone in the house, and said to the +peasant, “Lay thyself on the straw there”, and gave him a slice of +bread with cheese on it. The peasant ate it, and lay down with his skin +beside him, and the woman thought, “He is tired and has gone to sleep.” +In the meantime came the parson; the miller’s wife received him well, +and said, “My husband is out, so we will have a feast.” The peasant +listened, and when he heard about feasting he was vexed that he had +been forced to make shift with a slice of bread with cheese on it. Then +the woman served up four different things, roast meat, salad, cakes, +and wine. + +Just as they were about to sit down and eat, there was a knocking +outside. The woman said, “Oh, heavens! It is my husband!” She quickly +hid the roast meat inside the tiled stove, the wine under the pillow, +the salad on the bed, the cakes under it, and the parson in the +cupboard in the entrance. Then she opened the door for her husband, and +said, “Thank heaven, thou art back again! There is such a storm, it +looks as if the world were coming to an end.” The miller saw the +peasant lying on the straw, and asked, “What is that fellow doing +there?” “Ah,” said the wife, “the poor knave came in the storm and +rain, and begged for shelter, so I gave him a bit of bread and cheese, +and showed him where the straw was.” The man said, “I have no +objection, but be quick and get me something to eat.” The woman said, +“But I have nothing but bread and cheese.” “I am contented with +anything,” replied the husband, “so far as I am concerned, bread and +cheese will do,” and looked at the peasant and said, “Come and eat some +more with me.” The peasant did not require to be invited twice, but got +up and ate. After this the miller saw the skin in which the raven was, +lying on the ground, and asked, “What hast thou there?” The peasant +answered, “I have a soothsayer inside it.” “Can he foretell anything to +me?” said the miller. “Why not?” answered the peasant, “but he only +says four things, and the fifth he keeps to himself.” The miller was +curious, and said, “Let him foretell something for once.” Then the +peasant pinched the raven’s head, so that he croaked and made a noise +like krr, krr. The miller said, “What did he say?” The peasant +answered, “In the first place, he says that there is some wine hidden +under the pillow.” “Bless me!” cried the miller, and went there and +found the wine. “Now go on,” said he. The peasant made the raven croak +again, and said, “In the second place, he says that there is some roast +meat in the tiled stove.” “Upon my word!” cried the miller, and went +thither, and found the roast meat. The peasant made the raven prophesy +still more, and said, “Thirdly, he says that there is some salad on the +bed.” “That would be a fine thing!” cried the miller, and went there +and found the salad. At last the peasant pinched the raven once more +till he croaked, and said, “Fourthly, he says that there are some cakes +under the bed.” “That would be a fine thing!” cried the miller, and +looked there, and found the cakes. + +And now the two sat down to the table together, but the miller’s wife +was frightened to death, and went to bed and took all the keys with +her. The miller would have liked much to know the fifth, but the little +peasant said, “First, we will quickly eat the four things, for the +fifth is something bad.” So they ate, and after that they bargained how +much the miller was to give for the fifth prophesy, until they agreed +on three hundred thalers. Then the peasant once more pinched the +raven’s head till he croaked loudly. The miller asked, “What did he +say?” The peasant replied, “He says that the Devil is hiding outside +there in the cupboard in the entrance.” The miller said, “The Devil +must go out,” and opened the house-door; then the woman was forced to +give up the keys, and the peasant unlocked the cupboard. The parson ran +out as fast as he could, and the miller said, “It was true; I saw the +black rascal with my own eyes.” The peasant, however, made off next +morning by daybreak with the three hundred thalers. + +At home the small peasant gradually launched out; he built a beautiful +house, and the peasants said, “The small peasant has certainly been to +the place where golden snow falls, and people carry the gold home in +shovels.” Then the small peasant was brought before the Mayor, and +bidden to say from whence his wealth came. He answered, “I sold my +cow’s skin in the town, for three hundred thalers.” When the peasants +heard that, they too wished to enjoy this great profit, and ran home, +killed all their cows, and stripped off their skins in order to sell +them in the town to the greatest advantage. The Mayor, however, said, +“But my servant must go first.” When she came to the merchant in the +town, he did not give her more than two thalers for a skin, and when +the others came, he did not give them so much, and said, “What can I do +with all these skins?” + +Then the peasants were vexed that the small peasant should have thus +overreached them, wanted to take vengeance on him, and accused him of +this treachery before the Mayor. The innocent little peasant was +unanimously sentenced to death, and was to be rolled into the water, in +a barrel pierced full of holes. He was led forth, and a priest was +brought who was to say a mass for his soul. The others were all obliged +to retire to a distance, and when the peasant looked at the priest, he +recognized the man who had been with the miller’s wife. He said to him, +“I set you free from the cupboard, set me free from the barrel.” At +this same moment up came, with a flock of sheep, the very shepherd who +as the peasant knew had long been wishing to be Mayor, so he cried with +all his might, “No, I will not do it; if the whole world insists on it, +I will not do it!” The shepherd hearing that, came up to him, and +asked, “What art thou about? What is it that thou wilt not do?” The +peasant said, “They want to make me Mayor, if I will but put myself in +the barrel, but I will not do it.” The shepherd said, “If nothing more +than that is needful in order to be Mayor, I would get into the barrel +at once.” The peasant said, “If thou wilt get in, thou wilt be Mayor.” +The shepherd was willing, and got in, and the peasant shut the top down +on him; then he took the shepherd’s flock for himself, and drove it +away. The parson went to the crowd, and declared that the mass had been +said. Then they came and rolled the barrel towards the water. When the +barrel began to roll, the shepherd cried, “I am quite willing to be +Mayor.” They believed no otherwise than that it was the peasant who was +saying this, and answered, “That is what we intend, but first thou +shalt look about thee a little down below there,” and they rolled the +barrel down into the water. + +After that the peasants went home, and as they were entering the +village, the small peasant also came quietly in, driving a flock of +sheep and looking quite contented. Then the peasants were astonished, +and said, “Peasant, from whence comest thou? Hast thou come out of the +water?” “Yes, truly,” replied the peasant, “I sank deep, deep down, +until at last I got to the bottom; I pushed the bottom out of the +barrel, and crept out, and there were pretty meadows on which a number +of lambs were feeding, and from thence I brought this flock away with +me.” Said the peasants, “Are there any more there?” “Oh, yes,” said he, +“more than I could do anything with.” Then the peasants made up their +minds that they too would fetch some sheep for themselves, a flock +apiece, but the Mayor said, “I come first.” So they went to the water +together, and just then there were some of the small fleecy clouds in +the blue sky, which are called little lambs, and they were reflected in +the water, whereupon the peasants cried, “We already see the sheep down +below!” The Mayor pressed forward and said, “I will go down first, and +look about me, and if things promise well I’ll call you.” So he jumped +in; splash! went the water; he made a sound as if he were calling them, +and the whole crowd plunged in after him as one man. Then the entire +village was dead, and the small peasant, as sole heir, became a rich +man. + + + +62 The Queen Bee + +Two kings’ sons once went out in search of adventures, and fell into a +wild, disorderly way of living, so that they never came home again. The +youngest, who was called Simpleton, set out to seek his brothers, but +when at length he found them they mocked him for thinking that he with +his simplicity could get through the world, when they two could not +make their way, and yet were so much cleverer. They all three travelled +away together, and came to an ant-hill. The two elder wanted to destroy +it, to see the little ants creeping about in their terror, and carrying +their eggs away, but Simpleton said, “Leave the creatures in peace; I +will not allow you to disturb them.” Then they went onwards and came to +a lake, on which a great number of ducks were swimming. The two +brothers wanted to catch a couple and roast them, but Simpleton would +not permit it, and said, “Leave the creatures in peace, I will not +suffer you to kill them.” At length they came to a bee’s nest, in which +there was so much honey that it ran out of the trunk of the tree where +it was. The two wanted to make a fire beneath the tree, and suffocate +the bees in order to take away the honey, but Simpleton again stopped +them and said, “Leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to +burn them.” At length the three brothers arrived at a castle where +stone horses were standing in the stables, and no human being was to be +seen, and they went through all the halls until, quite at the end, they +came to a door in which were three locks. In the middle of the door, +however, there was a little pane, through which they could see into the +room. There they saw a little grey man, who was sitting at a table. +They called him, once, twice, but he did not hear; at last they called +him for the third time, when he got up, opened the locks, and came out. +He said nothing, however, but conducted them to a handsomely-spread +table, and when they had eaten and drunk, he took each of them to a +bedroom. Next morning the little grey man came to the eldest, beckoned +to him, and conducted him to a stone table, on which were inscribed +three tasks, by the performance of which the castle could be delivered. +The first was that in the forest, beneath the moss, lay the princess’s +pearls, a thousand in number, which must be picked up, and if by sunset +one single pearl was wanting, he who had looked for them would be +turned into stone. The eldest went thither, and sought the whole day, +but when it came to an end, he had only found one hundred, and what was +written on the table came to pass, and he was changed into stone. Next +day, the second brother undertook the adventure; it did not, however, +fare much better with him than with the eldest; he did not find more +than two hundred pearls, and was changed to stone. At last the turn +came to Simpleton also, who sought in the moss. It was, however, so +hard to find the pearls, and he got on so slowly, that he seated +himself on a stone, and wept. And while he was thus sitting, the King +of the ants whose life he had once saved, came with five thousand ants, +and before long the little creatures had got all the pearls together, +and laid them in a heap. The second task, however, was to fetch out of +the lake the key of the King’s daughter’s bed-chamber. When Simpleton +came to the lake, the ducks which he had saved, swam up to him, dived +down, and brought the key out of the water. But the third task was the +most difficult; from amongst the three sleeping daughters of the King +was the youngest and dearest to be sought out. They, however, resembled +each other exactly, and were only to be distinguished by their having +eaten different sweetmeats before they fell asleep; the eldest a bit of +sugar; the second a little syrup; and the youngest a spoonful of honey. +Then the Queen of the bees, which Simpleton had protected from the +fire, came and tasted the lips of all three, and at last she remained +sitting on the mouth which had eaten honey, and thus the King’s son +recognized the right princess. Then the enchantment was at an end; +everything was released from sleep, and those who had been turned to +stone received once more their natural forms. Simpleton married the +youngest and sweetest princess, and after her father’s death became +King, and his two brothers received the two other sisters. + + + +63 The Three Feathers + +There was once on a time a King who had three sons, of whom two were +clever and wise, but the third did not speak much, and was simple, and +was called the Simpleton. When the King had become old and weak, and +was thinking of his end, he did not know which of his sons should +inherit the kingdom after him. Then he said to them, “Go forth, and he +who brings me the most beautiful carpet shall be King after my death.” +And that there should be no dispute amongst them, he took them outside +his castle, blew three feathers in the air, and said, “You shall go as +they fly.” One feather flew to the east, the other to the west, but the +third flew straight up and did not fly far, but soon fell to the +ground. And now one brother went to the right, and the other to the +left, and they mocked Simpleton, who was forced to stay where the third +feather had fallen. He sat down and was sad, then all at once he saw +that there was a trap-door close by the feather. He raised it up, found +some steps, and went down them, and then he came to another door, +knocked at it, and heard somebody inside calling, + +“Little green maiden small, +Hopping hither and thither; +Hop to the door, +And quickly see who is there.” + + +The door opened, and he saw a great, fat toad sitting, and round about +her a crowd of little toads. The fat toad asked what he wanted? He +answered, “I should like to have the prettiest and finest carpet in the +world.” Then she called a young one and said, + +“Little green maiden small, +Hopping hither and thither, +Hop quickly and bring me +The great box here.” + + +The young toad brought the box, and the fat toad opened it, and gave +Simpleton a carpet out of it, so beautiful and so fine, that on the +earth above, none could have been woven like it. Then he thanked her, +and ascended again. The two others had, however, looked on their +youngest brother as so stupid that they believed he would find and +bring nothing at all. “Why should we give ourselves a great deal of +trouble to search?” said they, and got some coarse handkerchiefs from +the first shepherds’ wives whom they met, and carried them home to the +King. At the same time Simpleton also came back, and brought his +beautiful carpet, and when the King saw it he was astonished, and said, +“If justice be done, the kingdom belongs to the youngest.” But the two +others let their father have no peace, and said that it was impossible +that Simpleton, who in everything lacked understanding, should be King, +and entreated him to make a new agreement with them. Then the father +said, “He who brings me the most beautiful ring shall inherit the +kingdom,” and led the three brothers out, and blew into the air three +feathers, which they were to follow. Those of the two eldest again went +east and west, and Simpleton’s feather flew straight up, and fell down +near the door into the earth. Then he went down again to the fat toad, +and told her that he wanted the most beautiful ring. She at once +ordered her great box to be brought, and gave him a ring out of it, +which sparkled with jewels, and was so beautiful that no goldsmith on +earth would have been able to make it. The two eldest laughed at +Simpleton for going to seek a golden ring. They gave themselves no +trouble, but knocked the nails out of an old carriage-ring, and took it +to the King; but when Simpleton produced his golden ring, his father +again said, “The kingdom belongs to him.” The two eldest did not cease +from tormenting the King until he made a third condition, and declared +that the one who brought the most beautiful woman home, should have the +kingdom. He again blew the three feathers into the air, and they flew +as before. + +Then Simpleton without more ado went down to the fat toad, and said, “I +am to take home the most beautiful woman!” “Oh,” answered the toad, +“the most beautiful woman! She is not at hand at the moment, but still +thou shalt have her.” She gave him a yellow turnip which had been +hollowed out, to which six mice were harnessed. Then Simpleton said +quite mournfully, “What am I to do with that?” The toad answered, “Just +put one of my little toads into it.” Then he seized one at random out +of the circle, and put her into the yellow coach, but hardly was she +seated inside it than she turned into a wonderfully beautiful maiden, +and the turnip into a coach, and the six mice into horses. So he kissed +her, and drove off quickly with the horses, and took her to the King. +His brothers came afterwards; they had given themselves no trouble at +all to seek beautiful girls, but had brought with them the first +peasant women they chanced to meet. When the King saw them he said, +“After my death the kingdom belongs to my youngest son.” But the two +eldest deafened the King’s ears afresh with their clamour, “We cannot +consent to Simpleton’s being King,” and demanded that the one whose +wife could leap through a ring which hung in the centre of the hall +should have the preference. They thought, “The peasant women can do +that easily; they are strong enough, but the delicate maiden will jump +herself to death.” The aged King agreed likewise to this. Then the two +peasant women jumped, and jumped through the ring, but were so stout +that they fell, and their coarse arms and legs broke in two. And then +the pretty maiden whom Simpleton had brought with him, sprang, and +sprang through as lightly as a deer, and all opposition had to cease. +So he received the crown, and has ruled wisely for a length of time. + + + +64 The Golden Goose + +There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called +Dummling, and was despised, mocked, and put down on every occasion. + +It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood, +and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a +bottle of wine in order that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst. + +When he entered the forest there met him a little grey-haired old man +who bade him good-day, and said, “Do give me a piece of cake out of +your pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine; I am so hungry and +thirsty.” But the prudent youth answered, “If I give you my cake and +wine, I shall have none for myself; be off with you,” and he left the +little man standing and went on. + +But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he made a +false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that he had to go home +and have it bound up. And this was the little grey man’s doing. + +After this the second son went into the forest, and his mother gave +him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine. The little old grey +man met him likewise, and asked him for a piece of cake and a drink of +wine. But the second son, too, said with much reason, “What I give you +will be taken away from myself; be off!” and he left the little man +standing and went on. His punishment, however, was not delayed; when he +had made a few strokes at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so +that he had to be carried home. + +Then Dummling said, “Father, do let me go and cut wood.” The father +answered, “Your brothers have hurt themselves with it, leave it alone, +you do not understand anything about it.” But Dummling begged so long +that at last he said, “Just go then, you will get wiser by hurting +yourself.” His mother gave him a cake made with water and baked in the +cinders, and with it a bottle of sour beer. + +When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him likewise, +and greeting him, said, “Give me a piece of your cake and a drink out +of your bottle; I am so hungry and thirsty.” Dummling answered, “I have +only cinder-cake and sour beer; if that pleases you, we will sit down +and eat.” So they sat down, and when Dummling pulled out his +cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake, and the sour beer had become +good wine. So they ate and drank, and after that the little man said, +“Since you have a good heart, and are willing to divide what you have, +I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut it down, and +you will find something at the roots.” Then the little man took leave +of him. + +Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a goose +sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He lifted her up, and +taking her with him, went to an inn where he thought he would stay the +night. Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose and were +curious to know what such a wonderful bird might be, and would have +liked to have one of its golden feathers. + +The eldest thought, “I shall soon find an opportunity of pulling out a +feather,” and as soon as Dummling had gone out she seized the goose by +the wing, but her finger and hand remained sticking fast to it. + +The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she might get a +feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched her sister than she +was held fast. + +At last the third also came with the like intent, and the others +screamed out, “Keep away; for goodness’ sake keep away!” But she did +not understand why she was to keep away. “The others are there,” she +thought, “I may as well be there too,” and ran to them; but as soon as +she had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her. So they +had to spend the night with the goose. + +The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and set out, +without troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on to +it. They were obliged to run after him continually, now left, now +right, just as he was inclined to go. + +In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he saw the +procession he said, “For shame, you good-for-nothing girls, why are you +running across the fields after this young man? is that seemly?” At the +same time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull her away, +but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck fast, and was himself +obliged to run behind. + +Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the parson, running +behind three girls. He was astonished at this and called out, “Hi, your +reverence, whither away so quickly? do not forget that we have a +christening to-day!” and running after him he took him by the sleeve, +but was also held fast to it. + +Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other, two labourers +came with their hoes from the fields; the parson called out to them and +begged that they would set him and the sexton free. But they had +scarcely touched the sexton when they were held fast, and now there +were seven of them running behind Dummling and the goose. + +Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had a +daughter who was so serious that no one could make her laugh. So he had +put forth a decree that whosoever should be able to make her laugh +should marry her. When Dummling heard this, he went with his goose and +all her train before the King’s daughter, and as soon as she saw the +seven people running on and on, one behind the other, she began to +laugh quite loudly, and as if she would never leave off. Thereupon +Dummling asked to have her for his wife, and the wedding was +celebrated. After the King’s death, Dummling inherited the kingdom and +lived a long time contentedly with his wife. + + + +65 Allerleirauh + +There was once on a time a King who had a wife with golden hair, and +she was so beautiful that her equal was not to be found on earth. It +came to pass that she lay ill, and as she felt that she must soon die, +she called the King and said, “If thou wishest to marry again after my +death, take no one who is not quite as beautiful as I am, and who has +not just such golden hair as I have: this thou must promise me.” And +after the King had promised her this she closed her eyes and died. + +For a long time the King could not be comforted, and had no thought of +taking another wife. At length his councillors said, “There is no help +for it, the King must marry again, that we may have a Queen.” And now +messengers were sent about far and wide, to seek a bride who equalled +the late Queen in beauty. In the whole world, however, none was to be +found, and even if one had been found, still there would have been no +one who had such golden hair. So the messengers came home as they went. + +Now the King had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her dead +mother, and had the same golden hair. When she was grown up the King +looked at her one day, and saw that in every respect she was like his +late wife, and suddenly felt a violent love for her. Then he spake to +his councillors, “I will marry my daughter, for she is the counterpart +of my late wife, otherwise I can find no bride who resembles her.” When +the councillors heard that, they were shocked, and said, “God has +forbidden a father to marry his daughter, no good can come from such a +crime, and the kingdom will be involved in the ruin.” + +The daughter was still more shocked when she became aware of her +father’s resolution, but hoped to turn him from his design. Then she +said to him, “Before I fulfil your wish, I must have three dresses, one +as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as bright as +the stars; besides this, I wish for a mantle of a thousand different +kinds of fur and hair joined together, and one of every kind of animal +in your kingdom must give a piece of his skin for it.” But she thought, +“To get that will be quite impossible, and thus I shall divert my +father from his wicked intentions.” The King, however, did not give it +up, and the cleverest maidens in his kingdom had to weave the three +dresses, one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one +as bright as the stars, and his huntsmen had to catch one of every kind +of animal in the whole of his kingdom, and take from it a piece of its +skin, and out of these was made a mantle of a thousand different kinds +of fur. At length, when all was ready, the King caused the mantle to be +brought, spread it out before her, and said, “The wedding shall be +to-morrow.” + +When, therefore, the King’s daughter saw that there was no longer any +hope of turning her father’s heart, she resolved to run away from him. +In the night whilst every one was asleep, she got up, and took three +different things from her treasures, a golden ring, a golden +spinning-wheel, and a golden reel. The three dresses of the sun, moon, +and stars she put into a nutshell, put on her mantle of all kinds of +fur, and blackened her face and hands with soot. Then she commended +herself to God, and went away, and walked the whole night until she +reached a great forest. And as she was tired, she got into a hollow +tree, and fell asleep. + +The sun rose, and she slept on, and she was still sleeping when it was +full day. Then it so happened that the King to whom this forest +belonged, was hunting in it. When his dogs came to the tree, they +sniffed, and ran barking round about it. The King said to the huntsmen, +“Just see what kind of wild beast has hidden itself in there.” The +huntsmen obeyed his order, and when they came back they said, “A +wondrous beast is lying in the hollow tree; we have never before seen +one like it. Its skin is fur of a thousand different kinds, but it is +lying asleep.” Said the King, “See if you can catch it alive, and then +fasten it to the carriage, and we will take it with us.” When the +huntsmen laid hold of the maiden, she awoke full of terror, and cried +to them, “I am a poor child, deserted by father and mother; have pity +on me, and take me with you.” Then said they, “Allerleirauh, thou wilt +be useful in the kitchen, come with us, and thou canst sweep up the +ashes.” So they put her in the carriage, and took her home to the royal +palace. There they pointed out to her a closet under the stairs, where +no daylight entered, and said, “Hairy animal, there canst thou live and +sleep.” Then she was sent into the kitchen, and there she carried wood +and water, swept the hearth, plucked the fowls, picked the vegetables, +raked the ashes, and did all the dirty work. + +Allerleirauh lived there for a long time in great wretchedness. Alas, +fair princess, what is to become of thee now! It happened, however, +that one day a feast was held in the palace, and she said to the cook, +“May I go up-stairs for a while, and look on? I will place myself +outside the door.” The cook answered, “Yes, go, but you must be back +here in half-an-hour to sweep the hearth.” Then she took her oil-lamp, +went into her den, put off her fur-dress, and washed the soot off her +face and hands, so that her full beauty once more came to light. And +she opened the nut, and took out her dress which shone like the sun, +and when she had done that she went up to the festival, and every one +made way for her, for no one knew her, and thought no otherwise than +that she was a king’s daughter. The King came to meet her, gave his +hand to her, and danced with her, and thought in his heart, “My eyes +have never yet seen any one so beautiful!” When the dance was over she +curtsied, and when the King looked round again she had vanished, and +none knew whither. The guards who stood outside the palace were called +and questioned, but no one had seen her. + +She had, however, run into her little den, had quickly taken off her +dress, made her face and hands black again, put on the fur-mantle, and +again was Allerleirauh. And now when she went into the kitchen, and was +about to get to her work and sweep up the ashes, the cook said, “Leave +that alone till morning, and make me the soup for the King; I, too, +will go upstairs awhile, and take a look; but let no hairs fall in, or +in future thou shalt have nothing to eat.” So the cook went away, and +Allerleirauh made the soup for the king, and made bread soup and the +best she could, and when it was ready she fetched her golden ring from +her little den, and put it in the bowl in which the soup was served. +When the dancing was over, the King had his soup brought and ate it, +and he liked it so much that it seemed to him he had never tasted +better. But when he came to the bottom of the bowl, he saw a golden +ring lying, and could not conceive how it could have got there. Then he +ordered the cook to appear before him. The cook was terrified when he +heard the order, and said to Allerleirauh, “Thou hast certainly let a +hair fall into the soup, and if thou hast, thou shalt be beaten for +it.” When he came before the King the latter asked who had made the +soup? The cook replied, “I made it.” But the King said, “That is not +true, for it was much better than usual, and cooked differently.” He +answered, “I must acknowledge that I did not make it, it was made by +the rough animal.” The King said, “Go and bid it come up here.” + +When Allerleirauh came, the King said, “Who art thou?” “I am a poor +girl who no longer has any father or mother.” He asked further, “Of +what use art thou in my palace?” She answered, “I am good for nothing +but to have boots thrown at my head.” He continued, “Where didst thou +get the ring which was in the soup?” She answered, “I know nothing +about the ring.” So the King could learn nothing, and had to send her +away again. + +After a while, there was another festival, and then, as before, +Allerleirauh begged the cook for leave to go and look on. He answered, +“Yes, but come back again in half-an-hour, and make the King the bread +soup which he so much likes.” Then she ran into her den, washed herself +quickly, and took out of the nut the dress which was as silvery as the +moon, and put it on. Then she went up and was like a princess, and the +King stepped forward to meet her, and rejoiced to see her once more, +and as the dance was just beginning they danced it together. But when +it was ended, she again disappeared so quickly that the King could not +observe where she went. She, however, sprang into her den, and once +more made herself a hairy animal, and went into the kitchen to prepare +the bread soup. When the cook had gone up-stairs, she fetched the +little golden spinning-wheel, and put it in the bowl so that the soup +covered it. Then it was taken to the King, who ate it, and liked it as +much as before, and had the cook brought, who this time likewise was +forced to confess that Allerleirauh had prepared the soup. Allerleirauh +again came before the King, but she answered that she was good for +nothing else but to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew +nothing at all about the little golden spinning-wheel. + +When, for the third time, the King held a festival, all happened just +as it had done before. The cook said, “Faith rough-skin, thou art a +witch, and always puttest something in the soup which makes it so good +that the King likes it better than that which I cook,” but as she +begged so hard, he let her go up at the appointed time. And now she put +on the dress which shone like the stars, and thus entered the hall. +Again the King danced with the beautiful maiden, and thought that she +never yet had been so beautiful. And whilst she was dancing, he +contrived, without her noticing it, to slip a golden ring on her +finger, and he had given orders that the dance should last a very long +time. When it was ended, he wanted to hold her fast by her hands, but +she tore herself loose, and sprang away so quickly through the crowd +that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast as she could into her +den beneath the stairs, but as she had been too long, and had stayed +more than half-an-hour she could not take off her pretty dress, but +only threw over it her fur-mantle, and in her haste she did not make +herself quite black, but one finger remained white. Then Allerleirauh +ran into the kitchen, and cooked the bread soup for the King, and as +the cook was away, put her golden reel into it. When the King found the +reel at the bottom of it, he caused Allerleirauh to be summoned, and +then he espied the white finger, and saw the ring which he had put on +it during the dance. Then he grasped her by the hand, and held her +fast, and when she wanted to release herself and run away, her mantle +of fur opened a little, and the star-dress shone forth. The King +clutched the mantle and tore it off. Then her golden hair shone forth, +and she stood there in full splendour, and could no longer hide +herself. And when she had washed the soot and ashes from her face, she +was more beautiful than anyone who had ever been seen on earth. But the +King said, “Thou art my dear bride, and we will never more part from +each other.” Thereupon the marriage was solemnized, and they lived +happily until their death. + + + +66 The Hare’s Bride + +There was once a woman and her daughter who lived in a pretty garden +with cabbages; and a little hare came into it, and during the winter +time ate all the cabbages. Then says the mother to the daughter, “Go +into the garden, and chase the hare away.” The girl says to the little +hare, “Sh-sh, hare, you are still eating up all our cabbages.” Says the +hare, “Come, maiden, and seat yourself on my little hare’s tail, and +come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The girl will not do it. Next +day the hare comes again and eats the cabbages, then says the mother to +the daughter, “Go into the garden, and drive the hare away.” The girl +says to the hare, “Sh-sh, little hare, you are still eating all the +cabbages.” The little hare says, “Maiden, seat thyself on my little +hare’s tail, and come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The maiden +refuses. The third day the hare comes again, and eats the cabbages. On +this the mother says to the daughter, “Go into the garden, and hunt the +hare away.” Says the maiden, “Sh-sh, little hare, you are still eating +all our cabbages.” Says the little hare, “Come, maiden, seat thyself on +my little hare’s tail, and come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The +girl seats herself on the little hare’s tail, and then the hare takes +her far away to his little hut, and says, “Now cook green cabbage and +millet-seed, and I will invite the wedding-guests.” Then all the +wedding-guests assembled. (Who were the wedding-guests?) That I can +tell you as another told it to me. They were all hares, and the crow +was there as parson to marry the bride and bridegroom, and the fox as +clerk, and the altar was under the rainbow. + +The girl, however, was sad, for she was all alone. The little hare +comes and says, “Open the doors, open the doors, the wedding-guests are +merry.” The bride says nothing, but weeps. The little hare goes away. +The little hare comes back and says, “Take off the lid, take off the +lid, the wedding-guests are hungry.” The bride again says nothing, and +weeps. The little hare goes away. The little hare comes back and says, +“Take off the lid, take off the lid, the wedding-guests are waiting.” +Then the bride says nothing, and the hare goes away, but she dresses a +straw-doll in her clothes, and gives her a spoon to stir with, and sets +her by the pan with the millet-seed, and goes back to her mother. The +little hare comes once more and says, “Take off the lid, take off the +lid,” and gets up, and strikes the doll on the head so that her cap +falls off. + +Then the little hare sees that it is not his bride, and goes away and +is sorrowful. + + + +67 The Twelve Huntsmen + +There was once a King’s son who was betrothed to a maiden whom he loved +very much. And when he was sitting beside her and very happy, news came +that his father lay sick unto death, and desired to see him once again +before his end. Then he said to his beloved, “I must now go and leave +thee, I give thee a ring as a remembrance of me. When I am King, I will +return and fetch thee.” So he rode away, and when he reached his +father, the latter was dangerously ill, and near his death. He said to +him, “Dear son, I wished to see thee once again before my end, promise +me to marry as I wish,” and he named a certain King’s daughter who was +to be his wife. The son was in such trouble that he did not think what +he was doing, and said, “Yes, dear father, your will shall be done,” +and thereupon the King shut his eyes, and died. + +When therefore the son had been proclaimed King, and the time of +mourning was over, he was forced to keep the promise which he had given +his father, and caused the King’s daughter to be asked in marriage, and +she was promised to him. His first betrothed heard of this, and fretted +so much about his faithlessness that she nearly died. Then her father +said to her, “Dearest child, why art thou so sad? Thou shalt have +whatsoever thou wilt.” She thought for a moment and said, “Dear father, +I wish for eleven girls exactly like myself in face, figure, and size.” +The father said, “If it be possible, thy desire shall be fulfilled,” +and he caused a search to be made in his whole kingdom, until eleven +young maidens were found who exactly resembled his daughter in face, +figure, and size. + +When they came to the King’s daughter, she had twelve suits of +huntsmen’s clothes made, all alike, and the eleven maidens had to put +on the huntsmen’s clothes, and she herself put on the twelfth suit. +Thereupon she took leave of her father, and rode away with them, and +rode to the court of her former betrothed, whom she loved so dearly. +Then she inquired if he required any huntsmen, and if he would take the +whole of them into his service. The King looked at her and did not know +her, but as they were such handsome fellows, he said, “Yes,” and that +he would willingly take them, and now they were the King’s twelve +huntsmen. + +The King, however, had a lion which was a wondrous animal, for he knew +all concealed and secret things. It came to pass that one evening he +said to the King, “Thou thinkest thou hast twelve huntsmen?” “Yes,” +said the King, “they are twelve huntsmen.” The lion continued, “Thou +art mistaken, they are twelve girls.” The King said, “That cannot be +true! How wilt thou prove that to me?” “Oh, just let some peas be +strewn in thy ante-chamber,” answered the lion, “and then thou wilt +soon see it. Men have a firm step, and when they walk over the peas +none of them stir, but girls trip and skip, and drag their feet, and +the peas roll about.” The King was well pleased with the counsel, and +caused the peas to be strewn. + +There was, however, a servant of the King’s who favored the huntsmen, +and when he heard that they were going to be put to this test he went +to them and repeated everything, and said, “The lion wants to make the +King believe that you are girls.” Then the King’s daughter thanked him, +and said to her maidens, “Put on some strength, and step firmly on the +peas.” So next morning when the King had the twelve huntsmen called +before him, and they came into the ante-chamber where the peas were +lying, they stepped so firmly on them, and had such a strong, sure +walk, that not one of the peas either rolled or stirred. Then they went +away again, and the King said to the lion, “Thou hast lied to me, they +walk just like men.” The lion said, “They have got to know that they +were going to be put to the test, and have assumed some strength. Just +let twelve spinning-wheels be brought into the ante-chamber some day, +and they will go to them and be pleased with them, and that is what no +man would do.” The King liked the advice, and had the spinning-wheels +placed in the ante-chamber. + +But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen, went to them, +and disclosed the project. Then when they were alone the King’s +daughter said to her eleven girls, “Put some constraint on yourselves, +and do not look round at the spinning-wheels.” And next morning when +the King had his twelve huntsmen summoned, they went through the +ante-chamber, and never once looked at the spinning wheels. Then the +King again said to the lion, “Thou hast deceived me, they are men, for +they have not looked at the spinning-wheels.” The lion replied, “They +have learnt that they were going to be put to the test, and have +restrained themselves.” The King, however, would no longer believe the +lion. + +The twelve huntsmen always followed the King to the chase, and his +liking for them continually increased. Now it came to pass that once +when they were out hunting, news came that the King’s betrothed was +approaching. When the true bride heard that, it hurt her so much that +her heart was almost broken, and she fell fainting to the ground. The +King thought something had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to +him, wanted to help him, and drew his glove off. Then he saw the ring +which he had given to his first bride, and when he looked in her face +he recognized her. Then his heart was so touched that he kissed her, +and when she opened her eyes he said, “Thou art mine, and I am thine, +and no one in the world can alter that.” He sent a messenger to the +other bride, and entreated her to return to her own kingdom, for he had +a wife already, and a man who had just found an old dish did not +require a new one. Thereupon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion +was again taken into favour, because, after all, he had told the truth. + + + +68 The Thief and his Master + +Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went into the church +and prayed to our Lord God to know which would be most advantageous for +him. Then the clerk got behind the altar, and said, “Thieving, +thieving.” On this Hans goes back to his son, and tells him he is to +learn thieving, and that the Lord God had said so. So he goes with his +son to seek a man who is acquainted with thieving. They walk a long +time and come into a great forest, where stands a little house with an +old woman in it. Hans says, “Do you know of a man who is acquainted +with thieving?” “You can learn that here quite well,” says the woman, +“my son is a master of it.” So he speaks with the son, and asks if he +knows thieving really well? The master-thief says, “I will teach him +well. Come back when a year is over, and then if you recognize your +son, I will take no payment at all for teaching him; but if you don’t +know him, you must give me two hundred thalers.” + +The father goes home again, and the son learns witchcraft and thieving, +thoroughly. When the year is out, the father is full of anxiety to know +how he is to contrive to recognize his son. As he is thus going about +in his trouble, he meets a little dwarf, who says, “Man, what ails you, +that you are always in such trouble?” + +“Oh,” says Hans, “a year ago I placed my son with a master-thief who +told me I was to come back when the year was out, and that if I then +did not know my son when I saw him, I was to pay two hundred thalers; +but if I did know him I was to pay nothing, and now I am afraid of not +knowing him and can’t tell where I am to get the money.” Then the dwarf +tells him to take a small basket of bread with him, and to stand +beneath the chimney. “There on the cross-beam is a basket, out of which +a little bird is peeping, and that is your son.” + +Hans goes thither, and throws a little basket full of black bread in +front of the basket with the bird in it, and the little bird comes out, +and looks up. “Hollo, my son, art thou here?” says the father, and the +son is delighted to see his father, but the master-thief says, “The +devil must have prompted you, or how could you have known your son?” +“Father, let us go,” said the youth. + +Then the father and son set out homeward. On the way a carriage comes +driving by. Hereupon the son says to his father, “I will change myself +into a large greyhound, and then you can earn a great deal of money by +me.” Then the gentleman calls from the carriage, “My man, will you sell +your dog?” “Yes,” says the father. “How much do you want for it?” +“Thirty thalers.” “Eh, man, that is a great deal, but as it is such a +very fine dog I will have it.” The gentleman takes it into his +carriage, but when they have driven a little farther the dog springs +out of the carriage through the window, and goes back to his father, +and is no longer a greyhound. + +They go home together. Next day there is a fair in the neighboring +town, so the youth says to his father, “I will now change myself into a +beautiful horse, and you can sell me; but when you have sold me, you +must take off my bridle, or I cannot become a man again.” Then the +father goes with the horse to the fair, and the master-thief comes and +buys the horse for a hundred thalers, but the father forgets, and does +not take off the bridle. So the man goes home with the horse, and puts +it in the stable. When the maid crosses the threshold, the horse says, +“Take off my bridle, take off my bridle.” Then the maid stands still, +and says, “What, canst thou speak?” So she goes and takes the bridle +off, and the horse becomes a sparrow, and flies out at the door, and +the wizard becomes a sparrow also, and flies after him. Then they come +together and cast lots, but the master loses, and betakes himself to +the water and is a fish. Then the youth also becomes a fish, and they +cast lots again, and the master loses. So the master changes himself +into a cock, and the youth becomes a fox, and bites the master’s head +off, and he died and has remained dead to this day. + + + +69 Jorinda and Joringel + +There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and thick forest, +and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone. In the day-time +she changed herself into a cat or a screech-owl, but in the evening she +took her proper shape again as a human being. She could lure wild +beasts and birds to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted +them. If any one came within one hundred paces of the castle he was +obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until she +bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this +circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work +cage, and carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about +seven thousand cages of rare birds in the castle. + +Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer +than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had +promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of betrothal, +and their greatest happiness was being together. One day in order that +they might be able to talk together in quiet they went for a walk in +the forest. “Take care,” said Joringel, “that you do not go too near +the castle.” + +It was a beautiful evening; the sun shone brightly between the trunks +of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the turtle-doves +sang mournfully upon the young boughs of the birch-trees. + +Jorinda wept now and then: she sat down in the sunshine and was +sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too; they were as sad as if they were +about to die. Then they looked around them, and were quite at a loss, +for they did not know by which way they should go home. The sun was +still half above the mountain and half set. + +Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle +close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear. +Jorinda was singing— + +“My little bird, with the necklace red, +Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, +He sings that the dove must soon be dead, +Sings sorrow, sor—jug, jug, jug.” + + +Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and +sang, “jug, jug, jug.” A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times +round about her, and three times cried, “to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo!” + +Joringel could not move: he stood there like a stone, and could neither +weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot. + +The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly +afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, +with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to +her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it +away in her hand. + +Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot; the nightingale +was gone. At last the woman came back, and said in a hollow voice, +“Greet thee, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him +loose at once.” Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before +the woman and begged that she would give him back his Jorinda, but she +said that he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he +wept, he lamented, but all in vain, “Ah, what is to become of me?” + +Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village; there he +kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the castle, +but not too near to it. At last he dreamt one night that he found a +blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a beautiful large pearl; +that he picked the flower and went with it to the castle, and that +everything he touched with the flower was freed from enchantment; he +also dreamt that by means of it he recovered his Jorinda. + +In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and dale if +he could find such a flower. He sought until the ninth day, and then, +early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower. In the middle of +it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest pearl. + +Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When he was +within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but walked on to the +door. Joringel was full of joy; he touched the door with the flower, +and it sprang open. He walked in through the courtyard, and listened +for the sound of the birds. At last he heard it. He went on and found +the room from whence it came, and there the witch was feeding the birds +in the seven thousand cages. + +When she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded and spat +poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him. +He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at the cages +with the birds; but there were many hundred nightingales, how was he to +find his Jorinda again? + +Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with a bird in +it, and go towards the door. + +Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower, and +also the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch any one; and +Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she was as +beautiful as ever! + + + +70 The Three Sons of Fortune + +A father once called his three sons before him, and he gave to the +first a cock, to the second a scythe, and to the third a cat. “I am +already aged,” said he, “my death is nigh, and I have wished to take +thought for you before my end; money I have not, and what I now give +you seems of little worth, but all depends on your making a sensible +use of it. Only seek out a country where such things are still unknown, +and your fortune is made.” + +After the father’s death the eldest went away with his cock, but +wherever he came the cock was already known; in the towns he saw him +from a long distance, sitting upon the steeples and turning round with +the wind, and in the villages he heard more than one crowing; no one +would show any wonder at the creature, so that it did not look as if he +would make his fortune by it. + +At last, however, it happened that he came to an island where the +people knew nothing about cocks, and did not even understand how to +divide their time. They certainly knew when it was morning or evening, +but at night, if they did not sleep through it, not one of them knew +how to find out the time. + +“Look!” said he, “what a proud creature! it has a ruby-red crown upon +its head, and wears spurs like a knight; it calls you three times +during the night, at fixed hours, and when it calls for the last time, +the sun soon rises. But if it crows by broad daylight, then take +notice, for there will certainly be a change of weather.” + +The people were well pleased; for a whole night they did not sleep, and +listened with great delight as the cock at two, four, and six o’clock, +loudly and clearly proclaimed the time. They asked if the creature were +for sale, and how much he wanted for it? “About as much gold as an ass +can carry,” answered he. “A ridiculously small price for such a +precious creature!” they cried unanimously, and willingly gave him what +he had asked. + +When he came home with his wealth his brothers were astonished, and the +second said, “Well, I will go forth and see whether I cannot get rid of +my scythe as profitably.” But it did not look as if he would, for +labourers met him everywhere, and they had scythes upon their shoulders +as well as he. + +At last, however, he chanced upon an island where the people knew +nothing of scythes. When the corn was ripe there, they took cannon out +to the fields and shot it down. Now this was rather an uncertain +affair; many shot right over it, others hit the ears instead of the +stems, and shot them away, whereby much was lost, and besides all this, +it made a terrible noise. So the man set to work and mowed it down so +quietly and quickly that the people opened their mouths with +astonishment. They agreed to give him what he wanted for the scythe, +and he received a horse laden with as much gold as it could carry. + +And now the third brother wanted to take his cat to the right man. He +fared just like the others; so long as he stayed on the mainland there +was nothing to be done. Every place had cats, and there were so many of +them that new-born kittens were generally drowned in the ponds. + +At last he sailed over to an island, and it luckily happened that no +cats had ever yet been seen there, and that the mice had got the upper +hand so much that they danced upon the tables and benches whether the +master were at home or not. The people complained bitterly of the +plague; the King himself in his palace did not know how to secure +himself against them; mice squeaked in every corner, and gnawed +whatever they could lay hold of with their teeth. But now the cat began +her chase, and soon cleared a couple of rooms, and the people begged +the King to buy the wonderful beast for the country. The King willingly +gave what was asked, which was a mule laden with gold, and the third +brother came home with the greatest treasure of all. + +The cat made herself merry with the mice in the royal palace, and +killed so many that they could not be counted. At last she grew warm +with the work and thirsty, so she stood still, lifted up her head and +cried, “Mew. Mew!” When they heard this strange cry, the King and all +his people were frightened, and in their terror ran all at once out of +the palace. Then the King took counsel what was best to be done; at +last it was determined to send a herald to the cat, and demand that she +should leave the palace, or if not, she was to expect that force would +be used against her. The councillors said, “Rather will we let +ourselves be plagued with the mice, for to that misfortune we are +accustomed, than give up our lives to such a monster as this.” A noble +youth, therefore, was sent to ask the cat “whether she would peaceably +quit the castle?” But the cat, whose thirst had become still greater, +merely answered, “Mew! Mew!” The youth understood her to say, “Most +certainly not! most certainly not!” and took this answer to the King. +“Then,” said the councillors, “she shall yield to force.” Cannon were +brought out, and the palace was soon in flames. When the fire reached +the room where the cat was sitting, she sprang safely out of the +window; but the besiegers did not leave off until the whole palace was +shot down to the ground. + + + +71 How Six Men Got on in the World + +There was once a man who understood all kinds of arts; he served in +war, and behaved well and bravely, but when the war was over he +received his dismissal, and three farthings for his expenses on the +way. “Stop,” said he, “I shall not be content with this. If I can only +meet with the right people, the King will yet have to give me all the +treasure of the country.” Then full of anger he went into the forest, +and saw a man standing therein who had plucked up six trees as if they +were blades of corn. He said to him, “Wilt thou be my servant and go +with me?” “Yes,” he answered, “but, first, I will take this little +bundle of sticks home to my mother,” and he took one of the trees, and +wrapped it round the five others, lifted the bundle on his back, and +carried it away. Then he returned and went with his master, who said, +“We two ought to be able to get through the world very well,” and when +they had walked on for a short while they found a huntsman who was +kneeling, had shouldered his gun, and was about to fire. The master +said to him, “Huntsman, what art thou going to shoot?” He answered, +“Two miles from here a fly is sitting on the branch of an oak-tree, and +I want to shoot its left eye out.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man, +“if we three are together, we certainly ought to be able to get on in +the world!” The huntsman was ready, and went with him, and they came to +seven windmills whose sails were turning round with great speed, and +yet no wind was blowing either on the right or the left, and no leaf +was stirring. Then said the man, “I know not what is driving the +windmills, not a breath of air is stirring,” and he went onwards with +his servants, and when they had walked two miles they saw a man sitting +on a tree who was shutting one nostril, and blowing out of the other. +“Good gracious! what are you doing up there?” He answered, “Two miles +from here are seven windmills; look, I am blowing them till they turn +round.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man. “If we four are together, we +shall carry the whole world before us!” Then the blower came down and +went with him, and after a while they saw a man who was standing on one +leg and had taken off the other, and laid it beside him. Then the +master said, “You have arranged things very comfortably to have a +rest.” “I am a runner,” he replied, “and to stop myself running far too +fast, I have taken off one of my legs, for if I run with both, I go +quicker than any bird can fly.” “Oh, go with me. If we five are +together, we shall carry the whole world before us.” So he went with +them, and it was not long before they met a man who wore a cap, but had +put it quite on one ear. Then the master said to him, “Gracefully, +gracefully, don’t stick your cap on one ear, you look just like a +tom-fool!” “I must not wear it otherwise,” said he, “for if I set my +hat straight, a terrible frost comes on, and all the birds in the air +are frozen, and drop dead on the ground.” “Oh, come with me,” said the +master. “If we six are together, we can carry the whole world before +us.” + +Now the six came to a town where the King had proclaimed that whosoever +ran a race with his daughter and won the victory, should be her +husband, but whosoever lost it, must lose his head. Then the man +presented himself and said, “I will, however, let my servant run for +me.” The King replied, “Then his life also must be staked, so that his +head and thine are both set on the victory.” When that was settled and +made secure, the man buckled the other leg on the runner, and said to +him, “Now be nimble, and help us to win.” It was fixed that the one who +was first to bring some water from a far distant well was to be the +victor. The runner received a pitcher, and the King’s daughter one too, +and they began to run at the same time, but in an instant, when the +King’s daughter had got a very little way, the people who were looking +on could see no more of the runner, and it was just as if the wind had +whistled by. In a short time he reached the well, filled his pitcher +with water, and turned back. Half-way home, however, he was overcome +with fatigue, and set his pitcher down, lay down himself, and fell +asleep. He had, however, made a pillow of a horse’s skull which was +lying on the ground, in order that he might lie uncomfortably, and soon +wake up again. In the meantime the King’s daughter, who could also run +very well quite as well as any ordinary mortal can had reached the +well, and was hurrying back with her pitcher full of water, and when +she saw the runner lying there asleep, she was glad and said, “My enemy +is delivered over into my hands,” emptied his pitcher, and ran on. And +now all would have been lost if by good luck the huntsman had not been +standing at the top of the castle, and had not seen everything with his +sharp eyes. Then said he, “The King’s daughter shall still not prevail +against us;” and he loaded his gun, and shot so cleverly, that he shot +the horse’s skull away from under the runner’s head without hurting +him. Then the runner awoke, leapt up, and saw that his pitcher was +empty, and that the King’s daughter was already far in advance. He did +not lose heart, however, but ran back to the well with his pitcher, +again drew some water, and was at home again, ten minutes before the +King’s daughter. “Behold!” said he, “I have not bestirred myself till +now, it did not deserve to be called running before.” + +But it pained the King, and still more his daughter, that she should be +carried off by a common disbanded soldier like that; so they took +counsel with each other how to get rid of him and his companions. Then +said the King to her, “I have thought of a way; don’t be afraid, they +shall not come back again.” And he said to them, “You shall now make +merry together, and eat and drink,” and he conducted them to a room +which had a floor of iron, and the doors also were of iron, and the +windows were guarded with iron bars. There was a table in the room +covered with delicious food, and the King said to them, “Go in, and +enjoy yourselves.” And when they were inside, he ordered the doors to +be shut and bolted. Then he sent for the cook, and commanded him to +make a fire under the room until the iron became red-hot. This the cook +did, and the six who were sitting at table began to feel quite warm, +and they thought the heat was caused by the food; but as it became +still greater, and they wanted to get out, and found that the doors and +windows were bolted, they became aware that the King must have an evil +intention, and wanted to suffocate them. “He shall not succeed, +however,” said the one with the cap. “I will cause a frost to come, +before which the fire shall be ashamed, and creep away.” Then he put +his cap on straight, and immediately there came such a frost that all +heat disappeared, and the food on the dishes began to freeze. When an +hour or two had passed by, and the King believed that they had perished +in the heat, he had the doors opened to behold them himself. But when +the doors were opened, all six were standing there, alive and well, and +said that they should very much like to get out to warm themselves, for +the very food was fast frozen to the dishes with the cold. Then, full +of anger, the King went down to the cook, scolded him, and asked why he +had not done what he had been ordered to do. But the cook replied, +“There is heat enough there, just look yourself.” Then the King saw +that a fierce fire was burning under the iron room, and perceived that +there was no getting the better of the six in this way. + +Again the King considered how to get rid of his unpleasant guests, and +caused their chief to be brought and said, “If thou wilt take gold and +renounce my daughter, thou shalt have as much as thou wilt.” + +“Oh, yes, Lord King,” he answered, “give me as much as my servant can +carry, and I will not ask for your daughter.” + +On this the King was satisfied, and the other continued, “In fourteen +days, I will come and fetch it.” Thereupon he summoned together all the +tailors in the whole kingdom, and they were to sit for fourteen days +and sew a sack. And when it was ready, the strong one who could tear up +trees had to take it on his back, and go with it to the King. Then said +the King, “Who can that strong fellow be who is carrying a bundle of +linen on his back that is as big as a house?” and he was alarmed and +said, “What a lot of gold he can carry away!” Then he commanded a ton +of gold to be brought; it took sixteen of his strongest men to carry +it, but the strong one snatched it up in one hand, put it in his sack, +and said, “Why don’t you bring more at the same time? that hardly +covers the bottom!” Then, little by little, the King caused all his +treasure to be brought thither, and the strong one pushed it into the +sack, and still the sack was not half full with it. “Bring more,” cried +he, “these few crumbs don’t fill it.” Then seven thousand carts with +gold had to be gathered together in the whole kingdom, and the strong +one thrust them and the oxen harnessed to them into his sack. “I will +examine it no longer,” said he, “but will just take what comes, so long +as the sack is but full.” When all that was inside, there was still +room for a great deal more; then he said, “I will just make an end of +the thing; people do sometimes tie up a sack even when it is not full.” +So he took it on his back, and went away with his comrades. When the +King now saw how one single man was carrying away the entire wealth of +the country, he became enraged, and bade his horsemen mount and pursue +the six, and ordered them to take the sack away from the strong one. +Two regiments speedily overtook the six, and called out, “You are +prisoners, put down the sack with the gold, or you will all be cut to +pieces!” “What say you?” cried the blower, “that we are prisoners! +Rather than that should happen, all of you shall dance about in the +air.” And he closed one nostril, and with the other blew on the two +regiments. Then they were driven away from each other, and carried into +the blue sky over all the mountains one here, the other there. One +sergeant cried for mercy; he had nine wounds, and was a brave fellow +who did not deserve ill treatment. The blower stopped a little so that +he came down without injury, and then the blower said to him, “Now go +home to thy King, and tell him he had better send some more horsemen, +and I will blow them all into the air.” When the King was informed of +this he said, “Let the rascals go. They have the best of it.” Then the +six conveyed the riches home, divided it amongst them, and lived in +content until their death. + + + +72 The Wolf and the Man + +Once on a time the fox was talking to the wolf of the strength of man; +how no animal could withstand him, and how all were obliged to employ +cunning in order to preserve themselves from him. Then the wolf +answered, “If I had but the chance of seeing a man for once, I would +set on him notwithstanding.” “I can help thee to do that,” said the +fox. “Come to me early to-morrow morning, and I will show thee one.” +The wolf presented himself betimes, and the fox took him out on the +road by which the huntsmen went daily. First came an old discharged +soldier. “Is that a man?” inquired the wolf. “No,” answered the fox, +“that was one.” Afterwards came a little boy who was going to school. +“Is that a man?” “No, that is going to be one.” At length came a hunter +with his double-barrelled gun at his back, and hanger by his side. Said +the fox to the wolf, “Look, there comes a man, thou must attack him, +but I will take myself off to my hole.” The wolf then rushed on the +man. When the huntsman saw him he said, “It is a pity that I have not +loaded with a bullet,” aimed, and fired his small shot in his face. The +wolf pulled a very wry face, but did not let himself be frightened, and +attacked him again, on which the huntsman gave him the second barrel. +The wolf swallowed his pain, and rushed on the huntsman, but he drew +out his bright hanger, and gave him a few cuts with it right and left, +so that, bleeding everywhere, he ran howling back to the fox. “Well, +brother wolf,” said the fox, “how hast thou got on with man?” “Ah!” +replied the wolf, “I never imagined the strength of man to be what it +is! First, he took a stick from his shoulder, and blew into it, and +then something flew into my face which tickled me terribly; then he +breathed once more into the stick, and it flew into my nose like +lightning and hail; when I was quite close, he drew a white rib out of +his side, and he beat me so with it that I was all but left lying +dead.” “See what a braggart thou art!” said the fox. “Thou throwest thy +hatchet so far that thou canst not fetch it back again!” + + + +73 The Wolf and the Fox + +The wolf had the fox with him, and whatsoever the wolf wished, that the +fox was compelled to do, for he was the weaker, and he would gladly +have been rid of his master. It chanced that once as they were going +through the forest, the wolf said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat, +or else I will eat thee thyself.” Then the fox answered, “I know a +farm-yard where there are two young lambs; if thou art inclined, we +will fetch one of them.” That suited the wolf, and they went thither, +and the fox stole the little lamb, took it to the wolf, and went away. +The wolf devoured it, but was not satisfied with one; he wanted the +other as well, and went to get it. As, however, he did it so awkwardly, +the mother of the little lamb heard him, and began to cry out terribly, +and to bleat so that the farmer came running there. They found the +wolf, and beat him so mercilessly, that he went to the fox limping and +howling. “Thou hast misled me finely,” said he; “I wanted to fetch the +other lamb, and the country folks surprised me, and have beaten me to a +jelly.” The fox replied, “Why art thou such a glutton?” + +Next day they again went into the country, and the greedy wolf once +more said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat, or I will eat thee +thyself.” Then answered the fox, “I know a farm-house where the wife is +baking pancakes to-night; we will get some of them for ourselves.” They +went there, and the fox slipped round the house, and peeped and sniffed +about until he discovered where the dish was, and then drew down six +pancakes and carried them to the wolf. “There is something for thee to +eat,” said he to him, and then went his way. The wolf swallowed down +the pancakes in an instant, and said, “They make one want more,” and +went thither and tore the whole dish down so that it broke in pieces. +This made such a great noise that the woman came out, and when she saw +the wolf she called the people, who hurried there, and beat him as long +as their sticks would hold together, till with two lame legs, and +howling loudly, he got back to the fox in the forest. “How abominably +thou hast misled me!” cried he, “the peasants caught me, and tanned my +skin for me.” But the fox replied, “Why art thou such a glutton?” + +On the third day, when they were out together, and the wolf could only +limp along painfully, he again said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat, +or I will eat thee thyself.” The fox answered, “I know a man who has +been killing, and the salted meat is lying in a barrel in the cellar; +we will get that.” Said the wolf, “I will go when thou dost, that thou +mayest help me if I am not able to get away.” “I am willing,” said the +fox, and showed him the by-paths and ways by which at length they +reached the cellar. There was meat in abundance, and the wolf attacked +it instantly and thought, “There is plenty of time before I need leave +off!” The fox liked it also, but looked about everywhere, and often ran +to the hole by which they had come in, and tried if his body was still +thin enough to slip through it. The wolf said, “Dear fox, tell me why +thou art running here and there so much, and jumping in and out?” + +“I must see that no one is coming,” replied the crafty fellow. “Don’t +eat too much!” Then said the wolf, “I shall not leave until the barrel +is empty.” In the meantime the farmer, who had heard the noise of the +fox’s jumping, came into the cellar. When the fox saw him he was out of +the hole at one bound. The wolf wanted to follow him, but he had made +himself so fat with eating that he could no longer get through, but +stuck fast. Then came the farmer with a cudgel and struck him dead, but +the fox bounded into the forest, glad to be rid of the old glutton. + + + +74 The Fox and His Cousin + +The she-wolf brought forth a young one, and invited the fox to be +godfather. “After all, he is a near relative of ours,” said she, “he +has a good understanding, and much talent; he can instruct my little +son, and help him forward in the world.” The fox, too, appeared quite +honest, and said, “Worthy Mrs. Gossip, I thank you for the honour which +you are doing me; I will, however, conduct myself in such a way that +you shall be repaid for it.” He enjoyed himself at the feast, and made +merry; afterwards he said, “Dear Mrs. Gossip, it is our duty to take +care of the child, it must have good food that it may be strong. I know +a sheep-fold from which we might fetch a nice morsel.” The wolf was +pleased with the ditty, and she went out with the fox to the farm-yard. +He pointed out the fold from afar, and said, “You will be able to creep +in there without being seen, and in the meantime I will look about on +the other side to see if I can pick up a chicken.” He, however, did not +go there, but sat down at the entrance to the forest, stretched his +legs and rested. The she-wolf crept into the stable. A dog was lying +there, and it made such a noise that the peasants came running out, +caught Gossip Wolf, and poured a strong burning mixture, which had been +prepared for washing, over her skin. At last she escaped, and dragged +herself outside. There lay the fox, who pretended to be full of +complaints, and said, “Ah, dear Mistress Gossip, how ill I have fared, +the peasants have fallen on me, and have broken every limb I have; if +you do not want me to lie where I am and perish, you must carry me +away.” The she-wolf herself was only able to go away slowly, but she +was in such concern about the fox that she took him on her back, and +slowly carried him perfectly safe and sound to her house. Then the fox +cried to her, “Farewell, dear Mistress Gossip, may the roasting you +have had do you good,” laughed heartily at her, and bounded off. + + + +75 The Fox and the Cat + +It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to +herself, “He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the +world,” she spoke to him in a friendly way. “Good-day, dear Mr. Fox, +how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting through this dear +season?” The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat +from head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would +give any answer or not. At last he said, “Oh, thou wretched +beard-cleaner, thou piebald fool, thou hungry mouse-hunter, what canst +thou be thinking of? Dost thou venture to ask how I am getting on? What +hast thou learnt? How many arts dost thou understand?” “I understand +but one,” replied the cat, modestly. “What art is that?” asked the fox. +“When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and save +myself.” “Is that all?” said the fox. “I am master of a hundred arts, +and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning. Thou makest me sorry +for thee; come with me, I will teach thee how people get away from the +hounds.” Just then came a hunter with four dogs. The cat sprang nimbly +up a tree, and sat down on top of it, where the branches and foliage +quite concealed her. “Open your sack, Mr. Fox, open your sack,” cried +the cat to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and were holding +him fast. “Ah, Mr. Fox,” cried the cat. “You with your hundred arts are +left in the lurch! Had you been able to climb like me, you would not +have lost your life.” + + + +76 The Pink + +There was once on a time a Queen to whom God had given no children. +Every morning she went into the garden and prayed to God in heaven to +bestow on her a son or a daughter. Then an angel from heaven came to +her and said, “Be at rest, thou shalt have a son with the power of +wishing, so that whatsoever in the world he wishes for, that shall he +have.” Then she went to the King, and told him the joyful tidings, and +when the time was come she gave birth to a son, and the King was filled +with gladness. Every morning she went with the child to the garden +where the wild beasts were kept, and washed herself there in a clear +stream. It happened once when the child was a little older, that it was +lying in her arms and she fell asleep. Then came the old cook, who knew +that the child had the power of wishing, and stole it away, and he took +a hen, and cut it in pieces, and dropped some of its blood on the +Queen’s apron and on her dress. Then he carried the child away to a +secret place, where a nurse was obliged to suckle it, and he ran to the +King and accused the Queen of having allowed her child to be taken from +her by the wild beasts. When the King saw the blood on her apron, he +believed this, fell into such a passion that he ordered a high tower to +be built, in which neither sun nor moon could be seen, and had his wife +put into it, and walled up. Here she was to stay for seven years +without meat or drink, and die of hunger. But God sent two angels from +heaven in the shape of white doves, which flew to her twice a day, and +carried her food until the seven years were over. + +The cook, however, thought to himself, “If the child has the power of +wishing, and I am here, he might very easily get me into trouble.” So +he left the palace and went to the boy, who was already big enough to +speak, and said to him, “Wish for a beautiful palace for thyself with a +garden, and all else that pertains to it.” Scarcely were the words out +of the boy’s mouth, when everything was there that he had wished for. +After a while the cook said to him, “It is not well for thee to be so +alone, wish for a pretty girl as a companion.” Then the King’s son +wished for one, and she immediately stood before him, and was more +beautiful than any painter could have painted her. The two played +together, and loved each other with all their hearts, and the old cook +went out hunting like a nobleman. The thought, however, occurred to him +that the King’s son might some day wish to be with his father, and thus +bring him into great peril. So he went out and took the maiden aside, +and said, “To-night when the boy is asleep, go to his bed and plunge +this knife into his heart, and bring me his heart and tongue, and if +thou dost not do it, thou shalt lose thy life.” Thereupon he went away, +and when he returned next day she had not done it, and said, “Why +should I shed the blood of an innocent boy who has never harmed any +one?” The cook once more said, “If thou dost not do it, it shall cost +thee thy own life.” When he had gone away, she had a little hind +brought to her, and ordered her to be killed, and took her heart and +tongue, and laid them on a plate, and when she saw the old man coming, +she said to the boy, “Lie down in thy bed, and draw the clothes over +thee.” Then the wicked wretch came in and said, “Where are the boy’s +heart and tongue?” The girl reached the plate to him, but the King’s +son threw off the quilt, and said, “Thou old sinner, why didst thou +want to kill me? Now will I pronounce thy sentence. Thou shalt become a +black poodle and have a gold collar round thy neck, and shalt eat +burning coals, till the flames burst forth from thy throat.” And when +he had spoken these words, the old man was changed into a poodle dog, +and had a gold collar round his neck, and the cooks were ordered to +bring up some live coals, and these he ate, until the flames broke +forth from his throat. The King’s son remained there a short while +longer, and he thought of his mother, and wondered if she were still +alive. At length he said to the maiden, “I will go home to my own +country; if thou wilt go with me, I will provide for thee.” “Ah,” she +replied, “the way is so long, and what shall I do in a strange land +where I am unknown?” As she did not seem quite willing, and as they +could not be parted from each other, he wished that she might be +changed into a beautiful pink, and took her with him. Then he went away +to his own country, and the poodle had to run after him. He went to the +tower in which his mother was confined, and as it was so high, he +wished for a ladder which would reach up to the very top. Then he +mounted up and looked inside, and cried, “Beloved mother, Lady Queen, +are you still alive, or are you dead?” She answered, “I have just +eaten, and am still satisfied,” for she thought the angels were there. +Said he, “I am your dear son, whom the wild beasts were said to have +torn from your arms; but I am alive still, and will speedily deliver +you.” Then he descended again, and went to his father, and caused +himself to be announced as a strange huntsman, and asked if he could +give him a place. The King said yes, if he was skilful and could get +game for him, he should come to him, but that deer had never taken up +their quarters in any part of the district or country. Then the +huntsman promised to procure as much game for him as he could possibly +use at the royal table. So he summoned all the huntsmen together, and +bade them go out into the forest with him. And he went with them and +made them form a great circle, open at one end where he stationed +himself, and began to wish. Two hundred deer and more came running +inside the circle at once, and the huntsmen shot them. Then they were +all placed on sixty country carts, and driven home to the King, and for +once he was able to deck his table with game, after having had none at +all for years. + +Now the King felt great joy at this, and commanded that his entire +household should eat with him next day, and made a great feast. When +they were all assembled together, he said to the huntsmen, “As thou art +so clever, thou shalt sit by me.” He replied, “Lord King, your majesty +must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman.” But the King insisted on it, and +said, “Thou shalt sit by me,” until he did it. Whilst he was sitting +there, he thought of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the +King’s principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would ask +how it was faring with the Queen in the tower, and if she were alive +still, or had perished. Hardly had he formed the wish than the marshal +began, and said, “Your majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the +Queen living in the tower? Is she still alive, or has she died?” But +the King replied, “She let my dear son be torn to pieces by wild +beasts; I will not have her named.” Then the huntsman arose and said, +“Gracious lord father, she is alive still, and I am her son, and I was +not carried away by wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who +tore me from her arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled her apron with +the blood of a chicken.” Thereupon he took the dog with the golden +collar, and said, “That is the wretch!” and caused live coals to be +brought, and these the dog was compelled to devour before the sight of +all, until flames burst forth from its throat. On this the huntsman +asked the King if he would like to see the dog in his true shape, and +wished him back into the form of the cook, in the which he stood +immediately, with his white apron, and his knife by his side. When the +King saw him he fell into a passion, and ordered him to be cast into +the deepest dungeon. Then the huntsman spoke further and said, “Father, +will you see the maiden who brought me up so tenderly and who was +afterwards to murder me, but did not do it, though her own life +depended on it?” The King replied, “Yes, I would like to see her.” The +son said, “Most gracious father, I will show her to you in the form of +a beautiful flower,” and he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought +forth the pink, and placed it on the royal table, and it was so +beautiful that the King had never seen one to equal it. Then the son +said, “Now will I show her to you in her own form,” and wished that she +might become a maiden, and she stood there looking so beautiful that no +painter could have made her look more so. + +And the King sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the tower, +to fetch the Queen and bring her to the royal table. But when she was +led in she ate nothing, and said, “The gracious and merciful God who +has supported me in the tower, will speedily deliver me.” She lived +three days more, and then died happily, and when she was buried, the +two white doves which had brought her food to the tower, and were +angels of heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on her grave. +The aged King ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief +consumed the King’s own heart, and he soon died. His son married the +beautiful maiden whom he had brought with him as a flower in his +pocket, and whether they are still alive or not, is known to God. + + + +77 Clever Grethel + +There was once a cook named Grethel, who wore shoes with red rosettes, +and when she walked out with them on, she turned herself this way and +that, and thought, “You certainly are a pretty girl!” And when she came +home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, and as +wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever she was +cooking until she was satisfied, and said, “The cook must know what the +food is like.” + +It came to pass that the master one day said to her, “Grethel, there is +a guest coming this evening; prepare me two fowls very daintily.” “I +will see to it, master,” answered Grethel. She killed two fowls, +scalded them, plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening +set them before the fire, that they might roast. The fowls began to +turn brown, and were nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived. +Then Grethel called out to her master, “If the guest does not come, I +must take the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a +shame if they are not eaten directly, when they are juiciest.” The +master said, “I will run myself, and fetch the guest.” When the master +had turned his back, Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on one side, +and thought, “Standing so long by the fire there, makes one hot and +thirsty; who knows when they will come? Meanwhile, I will run into the +cellar, and take a drink.” She ran down, set a jug, said, “God bless it +to thy use, Grethel,” and took a good drink, and took yet another +hearty draught. + +Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted them, +and drove the spit merrily round. But as the roast meat smelt so good, +Grethel thought, “Something might be wrong, it ought to be tasted!” She +touched it with her finger, and said, “Ah! how good fowls are! It +certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten directly!” She +ran to the window, to see if the master was not coming with his guest, +but she saw no one, and went back to the fowls and thought, “One of the +wings is burning! I had better take it off and eat it.” So she cut it +off, ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she thought, “the +other must go down too, or else master will observe that something is +missing.” When the two wings were eaten, she went and looked for her +master, and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to her, “Who knows? +They are perhaps not coming at all, and have turned in somewhere.” Then +she said, “Hallo, Grethel, enjoy yourself, one fowl has been cut into, +take another drink, and eat it up entirely; when it is eaten you will +have some peace, why should God’s good gifts be spoilt?” So she ran +into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the one +chicken in great glee. When one of the chickens was swallowed down, and +still her master did not come, Grethel looked at the other and said, +“Where one is, the other should be likewise, the two go together; +what’s right for the one is right for the other; I think if I were to +take another draught it would do me no harm.” So she took another +hearty drink, and let the second chicken rejoin the first. + +While she was just in the best of the eating, her master came and +cried, hurry up, “Haste thee, Grethel, the guest is coming directly +after me!” “Yes, sir, I will soon serve up,” answered Grethel. Meantime +the master looked to see that the table was properly laid, and took the +great knife, wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and +sharpened it on the steps. Presently the guest came, and knocked +politely and courteously at the house-door. Grethel ran, and looked to +see who was there, and when she saw the guest, she put her finger to +her lips and said, “Hush! hush! get away as quickly as you can, if my +master catches you it will be the worse for you; he certainly did ask +you to supper, but his intention is to cut off your two ears. Just +listen how he is sharpening the knife for it!” The guest heard the +sharpening, and hurried down the steps again as fast as he could. +Grethel was not idle; she ran screaming to her master, and cried, “You +have invited a fine guest!” “Eh, why, Grethel? What do you mean by +that?” “Yes,” said she, “he has taken the chickens which I was just +going to serve up, off the dish, and has run away with them!” “That’s a +nice trick!” said her master, and lamented the fine chickens. “If he +had but left me one, so that something remained for me to eat.” He +called to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Then he ran +after him with the knife still in his hand, crying, “Just one, just +one,” meaning that the guest should leave him just one chicken, and not +take both. The guest, however, thought no otherwise than that he was to +give up one of his ears, and ran as if fire were burning under him, in +order to take them both home with him. + + + +78 The Old Man and His Grandson + +There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears dull +of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could +hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let +it run out of his mouth. His son and his son’s wife were disgusted at +this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind +the stove, and they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not +even enough of it. And he used to look towards the table with his eyes +full of tears. Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, +and it fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded him, but he +said nothing and only sighed. Then they bought him a wooden bowl for a +few half-pence, out of which he had to eat. + +They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old +began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground. “What are +you doing there?” asked the father. “I am making a little trough,” +answered the child, “for father and mother to eat out of when I am +big.” + +The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently +began to cry. Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and +henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if +he did spill a little of anything. + + + +79 The Water-Nix + +A little brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while they +were thus playing, they both fell in. A water-nix lived down below, who +said, “Now I have got you, now you shall work hard for me!” and carried +them off with her. She gave the girl dirty tangled flax to spin, and +she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it, and the boy had +to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and they got nothing to eat but +dumplings as hard as stones. Then at last the children became so +impatient, that they waited until one Sunday, when the nix was at +church, and ran away. But when church was over, the nix saw that the +birds were flown, and followed them with great strides. The children +saw her from afar, and the girl threw a brush behind her which formed +an immense hill of bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes, +over which the nix was forced to scramble with great difficulty; at +last, however, she got over. When the children saw this, the boy threw +behind him a comb which made a great hill of combs with a thousand +times a thousand teeth, but the nix managed to keep herself steady on +them, and at last crossed over that. Then the girl threw behind her a +looking-glass which formed a hill of mirrors, and was so slippery that +it was impossible for the nix to cross it. Then she thought, “I will go +home quickly and fetch my axe, and cut the hill of glass in half.” Long +before she returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the +children had escaped to a great distance, and the water-nix was obliged +to betake herself to her well again. + + + +80 The Death of the Little Hen + +Once upon a time the little hen went with the little cock to the +nut-hill, and they agreed together that whichsoever of them found a +kernel of a nut should share it with the other. Then the hen found a +large, large nut, but said nothing about it, intending to eat the +kernel herself. The kernel, however, was so large that she could not +swallow it, and it remained sticking in her throat, so that she was +alarmed lest she should be choked. Then she cried, “Cock, I entreat +thee to run as fast thou canst, and fetch me some water, or I shall +choke.” The little cock did run as fast as he could to the spring, and +said, “Stream, thou art to give me some water; the little hen is lying +on the nut-hill, and she has swallowed a large nut, and is choking.” +The well answered, “First run to the bride, and get her to give thee +some red silk.” The little cock ran to the bride and said, “Bride, you +are to give me some red silk; I want to give red silk to the well, the +well is to give me some water, I am to take the water to the little hen +who is lying on the nut-hill and has swallowed a great nut-kernel, and +is choking with it.” The bride answered, “First run and bring me my +little wreath which is hanging to a willow.” So the little cock ran to +the willow, and drew the wreath from the branch and took it to the +bride, and the bride gave him some water for it. Then the little cock +took the water to the hen, but when he got there the hen had choked in +the meantime, and lay there dead and motionless. Then the cock was so +distressed that he cried aloud, and every animal came to lament the +little hen, and six mice built a little carriage to carry her to her +grave, and when the carriage was ready they harnessed themselves to it, +and the cock drove. On the way, however, they met the fox, who said, +“Where art thou going, little cock?” “I am going to bury my little +hen.” “May I drive with thee?” “Yes, but seat thyself at the back of +the carriage, for in the front my little horses could not drag thee.” +Then the fox seated himself at the back, and after that the wolf, the +bear, the stag, the lion, and all the beasts of the forest did the +same. Then the procession went onwards, and they reached the stream. +“How are we to get over?” said the little cock. A straw was lying by +the stream, and it said, “I will lay myself across, and you shall drive +over me.” But when the six mice came to the bridge, the straw slipped +and fell into the water, and the six mice all fell in and were drowned. +Then they were again in difficulty, and a coal came and said, “I am +large enough, I will lay myself across and you shall drive over me.” So +the coal also laid itself across the water, but unhappily just touched +it, on which the coal hissed, was extinguished and died. When a stone +saw that, it took pity on the little cock, wished to help him, and laid +itself over the water. Then the cock drew the carriage himself, but +when he got it over and reached the other shore with the dead hen, and +was about to draw over the others who were sitting behind as well, +there were too many of them, the carriage ran back, and they all fell +into the water together, and were drowned. Then the little cock was +left alone with the dead hen, and dug a grave for her and laid her in +it, and made a mound above it, on which he sat down and fretted until +he died too, and then every one was dead. + + + +81 Brother Lustig + +There was one on a time a great war, and when it came to an end, many +soldiers were discharged. Then Brother Lustig also received his +dismissal, and besides that, nothing but a small loaf of +contract-bread, and four kreuzers in money, with which he departed. St. +Peter had, however, placed himself in his way in the shape of a poor +beggar, and when Brother Lustig came up, he begged alms of him. Brother +Lustig replied, “Dear beggar-man, what am I to give you? I have been a +soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing but this +little loaf of contract-bread, and four kreuzers of money; when that is +gone, I shall have to beg as well as you. Still I will give you +something.” Thereupon he divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the +apostle one of them, and a kreuzer likewise. St. Peter thanked him, +went onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier’s way as a beggar, +but in another shape; and when he came up begged a gift of him as +before. Brother Lustig spoke as he had done before, and again gave him +a quarter of the loaf and one kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and went +onwards, but for the third time placed himself in another shape as a +beggar on the road, and spoke to Brother Lustig. Brother Lustig gave +him also the third quarter of bread and the third kreuzer. St. Peter +thanked him, and Brother Lustig went onwards, and had but a quarter of +the loaf, and one kreuzer. With that he went into an inn, ate the +bread, and ordered one kreuzer’s worth of beer. When he had had it, he +journeyed onwards, and then St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance +of a discharged soldier, met and spoke to him thus: “Good day, comrade, +canst thou not give me a bit of bread, and a kreuzer to get a drink?” +“Where am I to procure it?” answered Brother Lustig; “I have been +discharged, and I got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four +kreuzers in money. I met three beggars on the road, and I gave each of +them a quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer. The last quarter I ate in +the inn, and had a drink with the last kreuzer. Now my pockets are +empty, and if thou also hast nothing we can go a-begging together.” +“No,” answered St. Peter, “we need not quite do that. I know a little +about medicine, and I will soon earn as much as I require by that.” +“Indeed,” said Brother Lustig, “I know nothing of that, so I must go +and beg alone.” “Just come with me,” said St. Peter, “and if I earn +anything, thou shalt have half of it.” “All right,” said Brother +Lustig, so they went away together. + +Then they came to a peasant’s house inside which they heard loud +lamentations and cries; so they went in, and there the husband was +lying sick unto death, and very near his end, and his wife was crying +and weeping quite loudly. “Stop that howling and crying,” said St. +Peter, “I will make the man well again,” and he took a salve out of his +pocket, and healed the sick man in a moment, so that he could get up, +and was in perfect health. In great delight the man and his wife said, +“How can we reward you? What shall we give you?” But St. Peter would +take nothing, and the more the peasant folks offered him, the more he +refused. Brother Lustig, however, nudged St. Peter, and said, “Take +something; sure enough we are in need of it.” At length the woman +brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he really must take that, but +he would not. Then Brother Lustig gave him a poke in the side, and +said, “Do take it, you stupid fool; we are in great want of it!” Then +St. Peter said at last, “Well, I will take the lamb, but I won’t carry +it; if thou wilt insist on having it, thou must carry it.” “That is +nothing,” said Brother Lustig. “I will easily carry it,” and took it on +his shoulder. Then they departed and came to a wood, but Brother Lustig +had begun to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to St. +Peter, “Look, that’s a good place, we might cook the lamb there, and +eat it.” “As you like,” answered St. Peter, “but I can’t have anything +to do with the cooking; if thou wilt cook, there is a kettle for thee, +and in the meantime I will walk about a little until it is ready. Thou +must, however, not begin to eat until I have come back, I will come at +the right time.” “Well, go, then,” said Brother Lustig, “I understand +cookery, I will manage it.” Then St. Peter went away, and Brother +Lustig killed the lamb, lighted a fire, threw the meat into the kettle, +and boiled it. The lamb was, however, quite ready, and the apostle +Peter had not come back, so Brother Lustig took it out of the kettle, +cut it up, and found the heart. “That is said to be the best part,” +said he, and tasted it, but at last he ate it all up. At length St. +Peter returned and said, “Thou mayst eat the whole of the lamb thyself, +I will only have the heart, give me that.” Then Brother Lustig took a +knife and fork, and pretended to look anxiously about amongst the +lamb’s flesh, but not to be able to find the heart, and at last he said +abruptly, “There is none here.” “But where can it be?” said the +apostle. “I don’t know,” replied Brother Lustig, “but look, what fools +we both are, to seek for the lamb’s heart, and neither of us to +remember that a lamb has no heart!” “Oh,” said St. Peter, “that is +something quite new! Every animal has a heart, why is a lamb to have +none?” “No, be assured, my brother,” said Brother Lustig, “that a lamb +has no heart; just consider it seriously, and then you will see that it +really has none.” “Well, it is all right,” said St. Peter, “if there is +no heart, then I want none of the lamb; thou mayst eat it alone.” “What +I can’t eat now, I will carry away in my knapsack,” said Brother +Lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and put the rest in his knapsack. + +They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great stream of water to +flow right across their path, and they were obliged to pass through it. +Said St. Peter, “Do thou go first.” “No,” answered Brother Lustig, +“thou must go first,” and he thought, “if the water is too deep I will +stay behind.” Then St. Peter strode through it, and the water just +reached to his knee. So Brother Lustig began to go through also, but +the water grew deeper and reached to his throat. Then he cried, +“Brother, help me!” St. Peter said, “Then wilt thou confess that thou +hast eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” said he, “I have not eaten it.” +Then the water grew deeper still and rose to his mouth. “Help me, +brother,” cried the soldier. St. Peter said, “Then wilt thou confess +that thou hast eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” he replied, “I have not +eaten it.” St. Peter, however, would not let him be drowned, but made +the water sink and helped him through it. + +Then they journeyed onwards, and came to a kingdom where they heard +that the King’s daughter lay sick unto death. “Hollo, brother!” said +the soldier to St. Peter, “this is a chance for us; if we can heal her +we shall be provided for, for life!” But St. Peter was not half quick +enough for him, “Come, lift your legs, my dear brother,” said he, “that +we may get there in time.” But St. Peter walked slower and slower, +though Brother Lustig did all he could to drive and push him on, and at +last they heard that the princess was dead. “Now we are done for!” said +Brother Lustig; “that comes of thy sleepy way of walking!” “Just be +quiet,” answered St. Peter, “I can do more than cure sick people; I can +bring dead ones to life again.” “Well, if thou canst do that,” said +Brother Lustig, “it’s all right, but thou shouldst earn at least half +the kingdom for us by that.” Then they went to the royal palace, where +every one was in great grief, but St. Peter told the King that he would +restore his daughter to life. He was taken to her, and said, “Bring me +a kettle and some water,” and when that was brought, he bade everyone +go out, and allowed no one to remain with him but Brother Lustig. Then +he cut off all the dead girl’s limbs, and threw them in the water, +lighted a fire beneath the kettle, and boiled them. And when the flesh +had fallen away from the bones, he took out the beautiful white bones, +and laid them on a table, and arranged them together in their natural +order. When he had done that, he stepped forward and said three times, +“In the name of the holy Trinity, dead woman, arise.” And at the third +time, the princess arose, living, healthy and beautiful. Then the King +was in the greatest joy, and said to St. Peter, “Ask for thy reward; +even if it were half my kingdom, I would give it thee.” But St. Peter +said, “I want nothing for it.” “Oh, thou tomfool!” thought Brother +Lustig to himself, and nudged his comrade’s side, and said, “Don’t be +so stupid! If thou hast no need of anything, I have.” St. Peter, +however, would have nothing, but as the King saw that the other would +very much like to have something, he ordered his treasurer to fill +Brother Lustig’s knapsack with gold. Then they went on their way, and +when they came to a forest, St. Peter said to Brother Lustig, “Now, we +will divide the gold.” “Yes,” he replied, “we will.” So St. Peter +divided the gold, and divided it into three heaps. Brother Lustig +thought to himself, “What craze has he got in his head now? He is +making three shares, and there are only two of us!” But St. Peter said, +“I have divided it exactly; there is one share for me, one for thee, +and one for him who ate the lamb’s heart.” + +“Oh, I ate that!” replied Brother Lustig, and hastily swept up the +gold. “You may trust what I say.” “But how can that be true,” said St. +Peter, “when a lamb has no heart?” “Eh, what, brother, what can you be +thinking of? Lambs have hearts like other animals, why should only they +have none?” “Well, so be it,” said St. Peter, “keep the gold to +yourself, but I will stay with you no longer; I will go my way alone.” +“As you like, dear brother,” answered Brother Lustig. “Farewell.” + +Then St. Peter went a different road, but Brother Lustig thought, “It +is a good thing that he has taken himself off, he is certainly a +strange saint, after all.” Then he had money enough, but did not know +how to manage it, squandered it, gave it away, and and when some time +had gone by, once more had nothing. Then he arrived in a certain +country where he heard that a King’s daughter was dead. “Oh, ho!” +thought he, “that may be a good thing for me; I will bring her to life +again, and see that I am paid as I ought to be.” So he went to the +King, and offered to raise the dead girl to life again. Now the King +had heard that a discharged soldier was traveling about and bringing +dead persons to life again, and thought that Brother Lustig was the +man; but as he had no confidence in him, he consulted his councillors +first, who said that he might give it a trial as his daughter was dead. +Then Brother Lustig ordered water to be brought to him in a kettle, +bade every one go out, cut the limbs off, threw them in the water and +lighted a fire beneath, just as he had seen St. Peter do. The water +began to boil, the flesh fell off, and then he took the bones out and +laid them on the table, but he did not know the order in which to lay +them, and placed them all wrong and in confusion. Then he stood before +them and said, “In the name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, I +bid thee arise,” and he said this thrice, but the bones did not stir. +So he said it thrice more, but also in vain: “Confounded girl that you +are, get up!” cried he, “Get up, or it shall be worse for you!” When he +had said that, St. Peter suddenly appeared in his former shape as a +discharged soldier; he entered by the window and said, “Godless man, +what art thou doing? How can the dead maiden arise, when thou hast +thrown about her bones in such confusion?” “Dear brother, I have done +everything to the best of my ability,” he answered. “This once, I will +help thee out of thy difficulty, but one thing I tell thee, and that is +that if ever thou undertakest anything of the kind again, it will be +the worse for thee, and also that thou must neither demand nor accept +the smallest thing from the King for this!” Thereupon St. Peter laid +the bones in their right order, said to the maiden three times, “In the +name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, arise,” and the King’s +daughter arose, healthy and beautiful as before. Then St. Peter went +away again by the window, and Brother Lustig was rejoiced to find that +all had passed off so well, but was very much vexed to think that after +all he was not to take anything for it. “I should just like to know,” +thought he, “what fancy that fellow has got in his head, for what he +gives with one hand he takes away with the other there is no sense +whatever in it!” Then the King offered Brother Lustig whatsoever he +wished to have, but he did not dare to take anything; however, by hints +and cunning, he contrived to make the King order his knapsack to be +filled with gold for him, and with that he departed. When he got out, +St. Peter was standing by the door, and said, “Just look what a man +thou art; did I not forbid thee to take anything, and there thou hast +thy knapsack full of gold!” “How can I help that,” answered Brother +Lustig, “if people will put it in for me?” “Well, I tell thee this, +that if ever thou settest about anything of this kind again thou shalt +suffer for it!” “Eh, brother, have no fear, now I have money, why +should I trouble myself with washing bones?” “Faith,” said St. Peter, +“the gold will last a long time! In order that after this thou mayst +never tread in forbidden paths, I will bestow on thy knapsack this +property, namely, that whatsoever thou wishest to have inside it, shall +be there. Farewell, thou wilt now never see me more.” “Good-bye,” said +Brother Lustig, and thought to himself, “I am very glad that thou hast +taken thyself off, thou strange fellow; I shall certainly not follow +thee.” But of the magical power which had been bestowed on his +knapsack, he thought no more. + +Brother Lustig travelled about with his money, and squandered and +wasted what he had as before. When at last he had no more than four +kreuzers, he passed by an inn and thought, “The money must go,” and +ordered three kreuzers’ worth of wine and one kreuzer’s worth of bread +for himself. As he was sitting there drinking, the smell of roast goose +made its way to his nose. Brother Lustig looked about and peeped, and +saw that the host had two geese standing in the oven. Then he +remembered that his comrade had said that whatsoever he wished to have +in his knapsack should be there, so he said, “Oh, ho! I must try that +with the geese.” So he went out, and when he was outside the door, he +said, “I wish those two roasted geese out of the oven and in my +knapsack,” and when he had said that, he unbuckled it and looked in, +and there they were inside it. “Ah, that’s right!” said he, “now I am a +made man!” and went away to a meadow and took out the roast meat. When +he was in the midst of his meal, two journeymen came up and looked at +the second goose, which was not yet touched, with hungry eyes. Brother +Lustig thought to himself, “One is enough for me,” and called the two +men up and said, “Take the goose, and eat it to my health.” They +thanked him, and went with it to the inn, ordered themselves a half +bottle of wine and a loaf, took out the goose which had been given +them, and began to eat. The hostess saw them and said to her husband, +“Those two are eating a goose; just look and see if it is not one of +ours, out of the oven.” The landlord ran thither, and behold the oven +was empty! “What!” cried he, “you thievish crew, you want to eat goose +as cheap as that? Pay for it this moment; or I will wash you well with +green hazel-sap.” The two said, “We are no thieves, a discharged +soldier gave us the goose, outside there in the meadow.” “You shall not +throw dust in my eyes that way! the soldier was here but he went out by +the door, like an honest fellow. I looked after him myself; you are the +thieves and shall pay!” But as they could not pay, he took a stick, and +cudgeled them out of the house. + +Brother Lustig went his way and came to a place where there was a +magnificent castle, and not far from it a wretched inn. He went to the +inn and asked for a night’s lodging, but the landlord turned him away, +and said, “There is no more room here, the house is full of noble +guests.” “It surprises me that they should come to you and not go to +that splendid castle,” said Brother Lustig. “Ah, indeed,” replied the +host, “but it is no slight matter to sleep there for a night; no one +who has tried it so far, has ever come out of it alive.” + +“If others have tried it,” said Brother Lustig, “I will try it too.” + +“Leave it alone,” said the host, “it will cost you your neck.” “It +won’t kill me at once,” said Brother Lustig, “just give me the key, and +some good food and wine.” So the host gave him the key, and food and +wine, and with this Brother Lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his +supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on the ground, for +there was no bed. He soon fell asleep, but during the night was +disturbed by a great noise, and when he awoke, he saw nine ugly devils +in the room, who had made a circle, and were dancing around him. +Brother Lustig said, “Well, dance as long as you like, but none of you +must come too close.” But the devils pressed continually nearer to him, +and almost stepped on his face with their hideous feet. “Stop, you +devils’ ghosts,” said he, but they behaved still worse. Then Brother +Lustig grew angry, and cried, “Hola! but I will soon make it quiet,” +and got the leg of a chair and struck out into the midst of them with +it. But nine devils against one soldier were still too many, and when +he struck those in front of him, the others seized him behind by the +hair, and tore it unmercifully. “Devils’ crew,” cried he, “it is +getting too bad, but wait. Into my knapsack, all nine of you!” In an +instant they were in it, and then he buckled it up and threw it into a +corner. After this all was suddenly quiet, and Brother Lustig lay down +again, and slept till it was bright day. Then came the inn-keeper, and +the nobleman to whom the castle belonged, to see how he had fared; but +when they perceived that he was merry and well they were astonished, +and asked, “Have the spirits done you no harm, then?” “The reason why +they have not,” answered Brother Lustig, “is because I have got the +whole nine of them in my knapsack! You may once more inhabit your +castle quite tranquilly, none of them will ever haunt it again.” The +nobleman thanked him, made him rich presents, and begged him to remain +in his service, and he would provide for him as long as he lived. “No,” +replied Brother Lustig, “I am used to wandering about, I will travel +farther.” Then he went away, and entered into a smithy, laid the +knapsack, which contained the nine devils on the anvil, and asked the +smith and his apprentices to strike it. So they smote with their great +hammers with all their strength, and the devils uttered howls which +were quite pitiable. When he opened the knapsack after this, eight of +them were dead, but one which had been lying in a fold of it, was still +alive, slipped out, and went back again to hell. Thereupon Brother +Lustig travelled a long time about the world, and those who know them +can tell many a story about him, but at last he grew old, and thought +of his end, so he went to a hermit who was known to be a pious man, and +said to him, “I am tired of wandering about, and want now to behave in +such a manner that I shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” The +hermit replied, “There are two roads, one is broad and pleasant, and +leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough, and leads to heaven.” “I +should be a fool,” thought Brother Lustig, “if I were to take the +narrow, rough road.” So he set out and took the broad and pleasant +road, and at length came to a great black door, which was the door of +Hell. Brother Lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out to see who +was there. But when he saw Brother Lustig, he was terrified, for he was +the very same ninth devil who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had +escaped from it with a black eye. So he pushed the bolt in again as +quickly as he could, ran to the devil’s lieutenant, and said, “There is +a fellow outside with a knapsack, who wants to come in, but as you +value your lives don’t allow him to enter, or he will wish the whole of +hell into his knapsack. He once gave me a frightful hammering when I +was inside it.” So they called out to Brother Lustig that he was to go +away again, for he should not get in there! “If they won’t have me +here,” thought he, “I will see if I can find a place for myself in +heaven, for I must be somewhere.” So he turned about and went onwards +until he came to the door of Heaven, where he knocked. St. Peter was +sitting hard by as door-keeper. Brother Lustig recognised him at once, +and thought, “Here I find an old friend, I shall get on better.” But +St. Peter said, “I really believe that thou wantest to come into +Heaven.” “Let me in, brother; I must get in somewhere; if they would +have taken me into Hell, I should not have come here.” “No,” said St. +Peter, “thou shalt not enter.” “Then if thou wilt not let me in, take +thy knapsack back, for I will have nothing at all from thee.” “Give it +here, then,” said St. Peter. Then Brother Lustig gave him the knapsack +into Heaven through the bars, and St. Peter took it, and hung it beside +his seat. Then said Brother Lustig, “And now I wish myself inside my +knapsack,” and in a second he was in it, and in Heaven, and St. Peter +was forced to let him stay there. + + + +82 Gambling Hansel + +Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but gamble, and for +that reason people never called him anything but Gambling Hansel, and +as he never ceased to gamble, he played away his house and all that he +had. Now the very day before his creditors were to take his house from +him, came the Lord and St. Peter, and asked him to give them shelter +for the night. Then Gambling Hansel said, “For my part, you may stay +the night, but I cannot give you a bed or anything to eat.” So the Lord +said he was just to take them in, and they themselves would buy +something to eat, to which Gambling Hansel made no objection. Thereupon +St. Peter gave him three groschen, and said he was to go to the baker’s +and fetch some bread. So Gambling Hansel went, but when he reached the +house where the other gambling vagabonds were gathered together, they, +although they had won all that he had, greeted him clamorously, and +said, “Hansel, do come in.” “Oh,” said he, “do you want to win the +three groschen too?” On this they would not let him go. So he went in, +and played away the three groschen also. Meanwhile St. Peter and the +Lord were waiting, and as he was so long in coming, they set out to +meet him. When Gambling Hansel came, however, he pretended that the +money had fallen into the gutter, and kept raking about in it all the +while to find it, but our Lord already knew that he had lost it in +play. St. Peter again gave him three groschen, and now he did not allow +himself to be led away once more, but fetched them the loaf. Our Lord +then inquired if he had no wine, and he said, “Alack, sir, the casks +are all empty!” But the Lord said he was to go down into the cellar, +for the best wine was still there. For a long time he would not believe +this, but at length he said, “Well, I will go down, but I know that +there is none there.” When he turned the tap, however, lo and behold, +the best of wine ran out! So he took it to them, and the two passed the +night there. Early next day our Lord told Gambling Hansel that he might +beg three favours. The Lord expected that he would ask to go to Heaven; +but Gambling Hansel asked for a pack of cards with which he could win +everything, for dice with which he would win everything, and for a tree +whereon every kind of fruit would grow, and from which no one who had +climbed up, could descend until he bade him do so. The Lord gave him +all that he had asked, and departed with St. Peter. + +And now Gambling Hansel at once set about gambling in real earnest, and +before long he had gained half the world. Upon this St. Peter said to +the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on, he will win, and thou lose, +the whole world. We must send Death to him.” When Death appeared, +Gambling Hansel had just seated himself at the gaming-table, and Death +said, “Hansel, come out a while.” But Gambling Hansel said, “Just wait +a little until the game is done, and in the meantime get up into that +tree out there, and gather a little fruit that we may have something to +munch on our way.” Thereupon Death climbed up, but when he wanted to +come down again, he could not, and Gambling Hansel left him up there +for seven years, during which time no one died. + +So St. Peter said to the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on. People +no longer die; we must go ourselves.” And they went themselves, and the +Lord commanded Hansel to let Death come down. So Hansel went at once to +Death and said to him, “Come down,” and Death took him directly and put +an end to him. They went away together and came to the next world, and +then Gambling Hansel made straight for the door of Heaven, and knocked +at it. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, we will have nothing to +do with him! Begone!” So he went to the door of Purgatory, and knocked +once more. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, there is quite +enough weeping and wailing here without him. We do not want to gamble, +just go away again.” Then he went to the door of Hell, and there they +let him in. There was, however, no one at home but old Lucifer and the +crooked devils who had just been doing their evil work in the world. +And no sooner was Hansel there than he sat down to gamble again. +Lucifer, however, had nothing to lose, but his mis-shapen devils, and +Gambling Hansel won them from him, as with his cards he could not fail +to do. And now he was off again with his crooked devils, and they went +to Hohenfuert and pulled up a hop-pole, and with it went to Heaven and +began to thrust the pole against it, and Heaven began to crack. So +again St. Peter said, “Lord, this thing cannot go on, we must let him +in, or he will throw us down from Heaven.” And they let him in. But +Gambling Hansel instantly began to play again, and there was such a +noise and confusion that there was no hearing what they themselves were +saying. Therefore St. Peter once more said, “Lord, this cannot go on, +we must throw him down, or he will make all Heaven rebellious.” So they +went to him at once, and threw him down, and his soul broke into +fragments, and went into the gambling vagabonds who are living this +very day. + + + +83 Hans in Luck + +Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him, “Master, +my time is up; now I should be glad to go back home to my mother; give +me my wages.” The master answered, “You have served me faithfully and +honestly; as the service was so shall the reward be;” and he gave Hans +a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his handkerchief out of +his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on his shoulder, and set +out on the way home. + +As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a +horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. “Ah!” said +Hans quite loud, “what a fine thing it is to ride! There you sit as on +a chair; you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and get on, +you don’t know how.” + +The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, “Hollo! Hans, why +do you go on foot, then?” + +“I must,” answered he, “for I have this lump to carry home; it is true +that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it +hurts my shoulder.” + +“I will tell you what,” said the rider, “we will exchange: I will give +you my horse, and you can give me your lump.” + +“With all my heart,” said Hans, “but I can tell you, you will have to +crawl along with it.” + +The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up; then gave him +the bridle tight in his hands and said, “If you want to go at a really +good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!” + +Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so +bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go +faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!” +The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew where he +was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated the field +from the highway. The horse would have gone off too if it had not been +stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road and driving a +cow before him. + +Hans got his limbs together and stood up on his legs again, but he was +vexed, and said to the countryman, “It is a poor joke, this riding, +especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks and +throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one’s neck. Never +again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk quietly +behind her, and have, over and above, one’s milk, butter and cheese +every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a cow.” +“Well,” said the countryman, “if it would give you so much pleasure, I +do not mind giving the cow for the horse.” Hans agreed with the +greatest delight; the countryman jumped upon the horse, and rode +quickly away. + +Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky +bargain. “If only I have a morsel of bread—and that can hardly fail +me—I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like; if I am +thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. Good heart, what more +can I want?” + +When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great content ate up +what he had with him—his dinner and supper—and all he had, and with his +last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove his cow +onwards along the road to his mother’s village. + +As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans found +himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross. He felt it +very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with thirst. “I +can find a cure for this,” thought Hans; “I will milk the cow now and +refresh myself with the milk.” He tied her to a withered tree, and as +he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath; but try as he would, +not a drop of milk came. And as he set himself to work in a clumsy way, +the impatient beast at last gave him such a blow on his head with its +hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and for a long time could not +think where he was. + +By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a +wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig. “What sort of a trick is this?” +cried he, and helped the good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened. +The butcher gave him his flask and said, “Take a drink and refresh +yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old beast; at +the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.” “Well, +well,” said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, “who would +have thought it? Certainly it is a fine thing when one can kill a beast +like that at home; what meat one has! But I do not care much for beef, +it is not juicy enough for me. A young pig like that now is the thing +to have, it tastes quite different; and then there are the sausages!” + +“Hark ye, Hans,” said the butcher, “out of love for you I will +exchange, and will let you have the pig for the cow.” “Heaven repay you +for your kindness!” said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was +unbound from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in +his hand. + +Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as +he wished; if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set +right. Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine white +goose under his arm. They said good morning to each other, and Hans +began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such good +bargains. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a +christening-feast. “Just lift her,” added he, and laid hold of her by +the wings; “how heavy she is—she has been fattened up for the last +eight weeks. Whoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will have to +wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth.” “Yes,” said Hans, as he +weighed her in one hand, “she is a good weight, but my pig is no bad +one.” + +Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and +shook his head. “Look here,” he said at length, “it may not be all +right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the Mayor +himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear—I fear that you +have got hold of it there. They have sent out some people and it would +be a bad business if they caught you with the pig; at the very least, +you would be shut up in the dark hole.” + +The good Hans was terrified. “Goodness!” he said, “help me out of this +fix; you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave me +your goose.” “I shall risk something at that game,” answered the lad, +“but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble.” So he took +the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a by-path. + +The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under his +arm. “When I think over it properly,” said he to himself, “I have even +gained by the exchange; first there is the good roast-meat, then the +quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give me +dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the beautiful +white feathers; I will have my pillow stuffed with them, and then +indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking. How glad my mother will +be!” + +As he was going through the last village, there stood a +scissors-grinder with his barrow; as his wheel whirred he sang— + +“I sharpen scissors and quickly grind, +My coat blows out in the wind behind.” + + +Hans stood still and looked at him; at last he spoke to him and said, +“All’s well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding.” “Yes,” +answered the scissors-grinder, “the trade has a golden foundation. A +real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket +finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?” + +“I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.” + +“And the pig?” + +“That I got for a cow.” + +“And the cow?” + +“I took that instead of a horse.” + +“And the horse?” + +“For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.” + +“And the gold?” + +“Well, that was my wages for seven years’ service.” + +“You have known how to look after yourself each time,” said the +grinder. “If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle in +your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your fortune.” + +“How shall I manage that?” said Hans. “You must be a grinder, as I am; +nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds +itself. I have one here; it is certainly a little worn, but you need +not give me anything for it but your goose; will you do it?” + +“How can you ask?” answered Hans. “I shall be the luckiest fellow on +earth; if I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, what need I +trouble about any longer?” and he handed him the goose and received the +grindstone in exchange. “Now,” said the grinder, as he took up an +ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, “here is a strong stone for you +into the bargain; you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your old +nails. Take it with you and keep it carefully.” + +Hans loaded himself with the stones, and went on with a contented +heart; his eyes shone with joy. “I must have been born with a caul,” he +cried; “everything I want happens to me just as if I were a +Sunday-child.” + +Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel +tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain by +which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once. At +last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced to stop +every minute; the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully. Then he +could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to carry +them just then. + +He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that +he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but in +order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid them +carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down on it, +and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed against the +stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans saw them with +his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt +down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having shown him this +favour also, and delivered him in so good a way, and without his having +any need to reproach himself, from those heavy stones which had been +the only things that troubled him. + +“There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I,” he cried out. With a +light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was with +his mother at home. + + + +84 Hans Married + +There was once upon a time a young peasant named Hans, whose uncle +wanted to find him a rich wife. He therefore seated Hans behind the +stove, and had it made very hot. Then he fetched a pot of milk and +plenty of white bread, gave him a bright newly-coined farthing in his +hand, and said, “Hans, hold that farthing fast, crumble the white bread +into the milk, and stay where you are, and do not stir from that spot +till I come back.” “Yes,” said Hans, “I will do all that.” Then the +wooer put on a pair of old patched trousers, went to a rich peasant’s +daughter in the next village, and said, “Won’t you marry my nephew +Hans—you will get an honest and sensible man who will suit you?” The +covetous father asked, “How is it with regard to his means? Has he +bread to break?” “Dear friend,” replied the wooer, “my young nephew has +a snug berth, a nice bit of money in hand, and plenty of bread to +break, besides he has quite as many patches as I have,” (and as he +spoke, he slapped the patches on his trousers, but in that district +small pieces of land were called patches also.) “If you will give +yourself the trouble to go home with me, you shall see at once that all +is as I have said.” Then the miser did not want to lose this good +opportunity, and said, “If that is the case, I have nothing further to +say against the marriage.” + +So the wedding was celebrated on the appointed day, and when the young +wife went out of doors to see the bridegroom’s property, Hans took off +his Sunday coat and put on his patched smock-frock and said, “I might +spoil my good coat.” Then together they went out and wherever a +boundary line came in sight, or fields and meadows were divided from +each other, Hans pointed with his finger and then slapped either a +large or a small patch on his smock-frock, and said, “That patch is +mine, and that too, my dearest, just look at it,” meaning thereby that +his wife should not stare at the broad land, but look at his garment, +which was his own. + +“Were you indeed at the wedding?” “Yes, indeed I was there, and in full +dress. My head-dress was of snow; then the sun came out, and it was +melted. My coat was of cobwebs, and I had to pass by some thorns which +tore it off me, my shoes were of glass, and I pushed against a stone +and they said, “Klink,” and broke in two. + + + +85 The Gold-Children + +There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a little +cottage, and who earned their bread by fishing, and always lived from +hand to mouth. But it came to pass one day when the man was sitting by +the water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out a fish entirely +of gold. As he was looking at the fish, full of astonishment, it began +to speak and said, “Hark you, fisherman, if you will throw me back +again into the water, I will change your little hut into a splendid +castle.” Then the fisherman answered, “Of what use is a castle to me, +if I have nothing to eat?” The gold fish continued, “That shall be +taken care of, there will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when +you open it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of +them as you can desire.” “If that be true,” said the man, “then I can +well do you a favour.” “Yes,” said the fish, “there is, however, the +condition that you shall disclose to no one in the world, whosoever he +may be, whence your good luck has come, if you speak but one single +word, all will be over.” Then the man threw the wonderful fish back +again into the water, and went home. But where his hovel had formerly +stood, now stood a great castle. He opened wide his eyes, entered, and +saw his wife dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room, +and she was quite delighted, and said, “Husband, how has all this come +to pass? It suits me very well.” “Yes,” said the man, “it suits me too, +but I am frightfully hungry, just give me something to eat.” Said the +wife, “But I have got nothing and don’t know where to find anything in +this new house.” “There is no need of your knowing,” said the man, “for +I see yonder a great cupboard, just unlock it.” When she opened it, +there stood cakes, meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect. + +Then the woman cried joyfully, “What more can you want, my dear?” and +they sat down, and ate and drank together. When they had had enough, +the woman said, “But husband, whence come all these riches?” “Alas,” +answered he, “do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you +anything; if I disclose it to any one, then all our good fortune will +fly.” “Very good,” said she, “if I am not to know anything, then I do +not want to know anything.” However, she was not in earnest; she never +rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience +he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful golden fish which he had +caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty. And as soon as +the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately +disappeared, they were once more in the old fisherman’s hut, and the +man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish. But fortune would +so have it, that he once more drew out the golden fish. “Listen,” said +the fish, “if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once +more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled +meats; only be firm, for your life’s sake don’t reveal from whom you +have it, or you will lose it all again!” “I will take good care,” +answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water. Now at +home everything was once more in its former magnificence, and the wife +was overjoyed at their good fortune, but curiosity left her no peace, +so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come +to pass, and how he had managed to secure it. The man kept silence for +a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out, and +betrayed the secret. In an instant the castle disappeared, and they +were back again in their old hut. “Now you have got what you want,” +said he; “and we can gnaw at a bare bone again.” “Ah,” said the woman, +“I had rather not have riches if I am not to know from whom they come, +for then I have no peace.” + +The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the +gold fish for a third time. “Listen,” said the fish, “I see very well +that I am fated to fall into your hands, take me home and cut me into +six pieces; give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse and +bury two of them in the ground, then they will bring you a blessing.” +The fisherman took the fish home with him, and did as it had bidden +him. It came to pass, however, that from the two pieces that were +buried in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the horse had +two golden foals, and the fisherman’s wife bore two children who were +made entirely of gold. The children grew up, became tall and handsome, +and the lilies and horses grew likewise. Then they said, “Father, we +want to mount our golden steeds and travel out in the world.” But he +answered sorrowfully, “How shall I bear it if you go away, and I know +not how it fares with you?” Then they said, “The two golden lilies +remain here. By them you can see how it is with us; if they are fresh, +then we are in health; if they are withered, we are ill; if they +perish, then we are dead.” So they rode forth and came to an inn, in +which were many people, and when they perceived the gold-children they +began to laugh, and jeer. When one of them heard the mocking he felt +ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went +home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a +great forest. As he was about to enter it, the people said, It is not +safe for you to ride through, the wood is full of robbers who would +treat you badly. You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all +of gold, and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.’ + +But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, “I must and +will ride through it.” Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and +his horse with them, so that the gold was no more to be seen, and rode +fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little he heard +a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together. From one +side came cries of, “There is one,” but from the other, “Let him go, +’tis an idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse, what should we +gain from him?” + +So the gold-child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell +him. One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so +beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she +existed in the world. And as such a mighty love took possession of him, +he went up to her and said, “I love thee with my whole heart, wilt thou +be my wife?” He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and +said, “Yes, I will be thy wife, and be true to thee my whole life +long.” Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest +happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when he saw that his +daughter’s wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said, +“Where is the bridegroom?” They showed him the gold-child, who, +however, still wore his bear-skins. Then the father said wrathfully, “A +vagabond shall never have my daughter!” and was about to kill him. Then +the bride begged as hard as she could, and said, “He is my husband, and +I love him with all my heart!” until at last he allowed himself to be +appeased. Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next +morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter’s husband +was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent +golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground. +Then he went back and thought, “What a good thing it was that I +restrained my anger! I should have committed a great crime.” But the +gold-child dreamed that he rode out to hunt a splendid stag, and when +he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, “I must go out hunting.” +She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, “You might +easily meet with a great misfortune,” but he answered, “I must and will +go.” + +Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest, and it was not +long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his +dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He +gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling +tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when +the gold-child looked round him, he was standing before a little house, +wherein was a witch. He knocked, and a little old woman came out and +asked, “What are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest?” +“Have you not seen a stag?” “Yes,” answered she, “I know the stag +well,” and thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with +her, barked at the man violently. “Wilt thou be silent, thou odious +toad,” said he, “or I will shoot thee dead.” Then the witch cried out +in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately +transformed him, so that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him +in vain and thought, “That which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so +heavily on my heart, has come upon him!” But at home the other brother +was standing by the gold-lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. +“Good heavens!” said he, “my brother has met with some great +misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.” Then the +father said, “Stay here, if I lose you also, what shall I do?” But he +answered, “I must and will go forth!” + +Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and entered the great +forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old witch came out +of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also, but he did not +go near her, and said, “I will shoot you, if you will not bring my +brother to life again.” She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, +with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to his human +shape. But the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw each other +again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of +the forest, the one home to his bride, and the other to his father. The +father then said, “I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for +the golden lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again.” Then they +lived happily, and all prospered with them until their death. + + + +86 The Fox and the Geese + +The fox once came to a meadow in which was a flock of fine fat geese, +on which he smiled and said, “I come in the nick of time, you are +sitting together quite beautifully, so that I can eat you up one after +the other.” The geese cackled with terror, sprang up, and began to wail +and beg piteously for their lives. But the fox would listen to nothing, +and said, “There is no mercy to be had! You must die.” At length one of +them took heart and said, “If we poor geese are to yield up our +vigorous young lives, show us the only possible favour and allow us one +more prayer, that we may not die in our sins, and then we will place +ourselves in a row, so that you can always pick yourself out the +fattest.” “Yes,” said the fox, “that is reasonable, and a pious +request. Pray away, I will wait till you are done.” Then the first +began a good long prayer, for ever saying, “Ga! Ga!” and as she would +make no end, the second did not wait until her turn came, but began +also, “Ga! Ga!” The third and fourth followed her, and soon they were +all cackling together. + +When they have done praying, the story shall be continued further, but +at present they are still praying without stopping.” + + + +87 The Poor Man and the Rich Man + +In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on this +earth amongst men, it once happened that he was tired and overtaken by +the darkness before he could reach an inn. Now there stood on the road +before him two houses facing each other; the one large and beautiful, +the other small and poor. The large one belonged to a rich man, and the +small one to a poor man. + +Then the Lord thought, “I shall be no burden to the rich man, I will +stay the night with him.” When the rich man heard some one knocking at +his door, he opened the window and asked the stranger what he wanted. +The Lord answered, “I only ask for a night’s lodging.” + +Then the rich man looked at the traveler from head to foot, and as the +Lord was wearing common clothes, and did not look like one who had much +money in his pocket, he shook his head, and said, “No, I cannot take +you in, my rooms are full of herbs and seeds; and if I were to lodge +everyone who knocked at my door, I might very soon go begging myself. +Go somewhere else for a lodging,” and with this he shut down the window +and left the Lord standing there. + +So the Lord turned his back on the rich man, and went across to the +small house and knocked. He had hardly done so when the poor man opened +the little door and bade the traveler come in. “Pass the night with me, +it is already dark,” said he; “you cannot go any further to-night.” +This pleased the Lord, and he went in. The poor man’s wife shook hands +with him, and welcomed him, and said he was to make himself at home and +put up with what they had got; they had not much to offer him, but what +they had they would give him with all their hearts. Then she put the +potatoes on the fire, and while they were boiling, she milked the goat, +that they might have a little milk with them. When the cloth was laid, +the Lord sat down with the man and his wife, and he enjoyed their +coarse food, for there were happy faces at the table. When they had had +supper and it was bed-time, the woman called her husband apart and +said, “Hark you, dear husband, let us make up a bed of straw for +ourselves to-night, and then the poor traveler can sleep in our bed and +have a good rest, for he has been walking the whole day through, and +that makes one weary.” “With all my heart,” he answered, “I will go and +offer it to him;” and he went to the stranger and invited him, if he +had no objection, to sleep in their bed and rest his limbs properly. +But the Lord was unwilling to take their bed from the two old folks; +however, they would not be satisfied, until at length he did it and lay +down in their bed, while they themselves lay on some straw on the +ground. + +Next morning they got up before daybreak, and made as good a breakfast +as they could for the guest. When the sun shone in through the little +window, and the Lord had got up, he again ate with them, and then +prepared to set out on his journey. + +But as he was standing at the door he turned round and said, “As you +are so kind and good, you may wish three things for yourselves and I +will grant them.” Then the man said, “What else should I wish for but +eternal happiness, and that we two, as long as we live, may be healthy +and have every day our daily bread; for the third wish, I do not know +what to have.” And the Lord said to him, “Will you wish for a new house +instead of this old one?” “Oh, yes,” said the man; “if I can have that, +too, I should like it very much.” And the Lord fulfilled his wish, and +changed their old house into a new one, again gave them his blessing, +and went on. + +The sun was high when the rich man got up and leaned out of his window +and saw, on the opposite side of the way, a new clean-looking house +with red tiles and bright windows where the old hut used to be. He was +very much astonished, and called his wife and said to her, “Tell me, +what can have happened? Last night there was a miserable little hut +standing there, and to-day there is a beautiful new house. Run over and +see how that has come to pass.” + +So his wife went and asked the poor man, and he said to her, “Yesterday +evening a traveler came here and asked for a night’s lodging, and this +morning when he took leave of us he granted us three wishes—eternal +happiness, health during this life and our daily bread as well, and +besides this, a beautiful new house instead of our old hut.” + +When the rich man’s wife heard this, she ran back in haste and told her +husband how it had happened. The man said, “I could tear myself to +pieces! If I had but known that! That traveler came to our house too, +and wanted to sleep here, and I sent him away.” “Quick!” said his wife, +“get on your horse. You can still catch the man up, and then you must +ask to have three wishes granted to you.” + +The rich man followed the good counsel and galloped away on his horse, +and soon came up with the Lord. He spoke to him softly and pleasantly, +and begged him not to take it amiss that he had not let him in +directly; he was looking for the front-door key, and in the meantime +the stranger had gone away, if he returned the same way he must come +and stay with him. “Yes,” said the Lord; “if I ever come back again, I +will do so.” Then the rich man asked if might not wish for three things +too, as his neighbor had done? “Yes,” said the Lord, he might, but it +would not be to his advantage, and he had better not wish for anything; +but the rich man thought that he could easily ask for something which +would add to his happiness, if he only knew that it would be granted. +So the Lord said to him, “Ride home, then, and three wishes which you +shall form, shall be fulfilled.” + +The rich man had now gained what he wanted, so he rode home, and began +to consider what he should wish for. As he was thus thinking he let the +bridle fall, and the horse began to caper about, so that he was +continually disturbed in his meditations, and could not collect his +thoughts at all. He patted its neck, and said, “Gently, Lisa,” but the +horse only began new tricks. Then at last he was angry, and cried quite +impatiently, “I wish your neck was broken!” Directly he had said the +words, down the horse fell on the ground, and there it lay dead and +never moved again. And thus was his first wish fulfilled. As he was +miserly by nature, he did not like to leave the harness lying there; so +he cut it off, and put it on his back; and now he had to go on foot. “I +have still two wishes left,” said he, and comforted himself with that +thought. + +And now as he was walking slowly through the sand, and the sun was +burning hot at noon-day, he grew quite hot-tempered and angry. The +saddle hurt his back, and he had not yet any idea what to wish for. “If +I were to wish for all the riches and treasures in the world,” said he +to himself, “I should still to think of all kinds of other things later +on, I know that, beforehand. But I will manage so that there is nothing +at all left me to wish for afterwards.” Then he sighed and said, “Ah, +if I were but that Bavarian peasant, who likewise had three wishes +granted to him, and knew quite well what to do, and in the first place +wished for a great deal of beer, and in the second for as much beer as +he was able to drink, and in the third for a barrel of beer into the +bargain.” + +Many a time he thought he had found it, but then it seemed to him to +be, after all, too little. Then it came into his mind, what an easy +life his wife had, for she stayed at home in a cool room and enjoyed +herself. This really did vex him, and before he was aware, he said, “I +just wish she was sitting there on this saddle, and could not get off +it, instead of my having to drag it along on my back.” And as the last +word was spoken, the saddle disappeared from his back, and he saw that +his second wish had been fulfilled. Then he really did feel warm. He +began to run and wanted to be quite alone in his own room at home, to +think of something really large for his last wish. But when he arrived +there and opened the parlour-door, he saw his wife sitting in the +middle of the room on the saddle, crying and complaining, and quite +unable to get off it. So he said, “Do bear it, and I will wish for all +the riches on earth for thee, only stay where thou art.” She, however, +called him a fool, and said, “What good will all the riches on earth do +me, if I am to sit on this saddle? Thou hast wished me on it, so thou +must help me off.” So whether he would or not, he was forced to let his +third wish be that she should be quit of the saddle, and able to get +off it, and immediately the wish was fulfilled. So he got nothing by it +but vexation, trouble, abuse, and the loss of his horse; but the poor +people lived happily, quietly, and piously until their happy death. + + + +88 The Singing, Springing Lark + +There was once on a time a man who was about to set out on a long +journey, and on parting he asked his three daughters what he should +bring back with him for them. Whereupon the eldest wished for pearls, +the second wished for diamonds, but the third said, “Dear father, I +should like a singing, soaring lark.” The father said, “Yes, if I can +get it, you shall have it,” kissed all three, and set out. Now when the +time had come for him to be on his way home again, he had brought +pearls and diamonds for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in +vain for a singing, soaring lark for the youngest, and he was very +unhappy about it, for she was his favorite child. Then his road lay +through a forest, and in the midst of it was a splendid castle, and +near the castle stood a tree, but quite on the top of the tree, he saw +a singing, soaring lark. “Aha, you come just at the right moment!” he +said, quite delighted, and called to his servant to climb up and catch +the little creature. But as he approached the tree, a lion leapt from +beneath it, shook himself, and roared till the leaves on the trees +trembled. “He who tries to steal my singing, soaring lark,” he cried, +“will I devour.” Then the man said, “I did not know that the bird +belonged to thee. I will make amends for the wrong I have done and +ransom myself with a large sum of money, only spare my life.” The lion +said, “Nothing can save thee, unless thou wilt promise to give me for +mine own what first meets thee on thy return home; and if thou wilt do +that, I will grant thee thy life, and thou shalt have the bird for thy +daughter, into the bargain.” But the man hesitated and said, “That +might be my youngest daughter, she loves me best, and always runs to +meet me on my return home.” The servant, however, was terrified and +said, “Why should your daughter be the very one to meet you, it might +as easily be a cat, or dog?” Then the man allowed himself to be +over-persuaded, took the singing, soaring lark, and promised to give +the lion whatsoever should first meet him on his return home. + +When he reached home and entered his house, the first who met him was +no other than his youngest and dearest daughter, who came running up, +kissed and embraced him, and when she saw that he had brought with him +a singing, soaring lark, she was beside herself with joy. The father, +however, could not rejoice, but began to weep, and said, “My dearest +child, I have bought the little bird dear. In return for it, I have +been obliged to promise thee to a savage lion, and when he has thee he +will tear thee in pieces and devour thee,” and he told her all, just as +it had happened, and begged her not to go there, come what might. But +she consoled him and said, “Dearest father, indeed your promise must be +fulfilled. I will go thither and soften the lion, so that I may return +to thee safely.” Next morning she had the road pointed out to her, took +leave, and went fearlessly out into the forest. The lion, however, was +an enchanted prince and was by day a lion, and all his people were +lions with him, but in the night they resumed their natural human +shapes. On her arrival she was kindly received and led into the castle. +When night came, the lion turned into a handsome man, and their wedding +was celebrated with great magnificence. They lived happily together, +remained awake at night, and slept in the daytime. One day he came and +said, “To-morrow there is a feast in thy father’s house, because your +eldest sister is to be married, and if thou art inclined to go there, +my lions shall conduct thee.” She said, “Yes, I should very much like +to see my father again,” and went thither, accompanied by the lions. +There was great joy when she arrived, for they had all believed that +she had been torn in pieces by the lion, and had long ceased to live. +But she told them what a handsome husband she had, and how well off she +was, remained with them while the wedding-feast lasted, and then went +back again to the forest. When the second daughter was about to be +married, and she was again invited to the wedding, she said to the +lion, “This time I will not be alone, thou must come with me.” The +lion, however, said that it was too dangerous for him, for if when +there a ray from a burning candle fell on him, he would be changed into +a dove, and for seven years long would have to fly about with the +doves. She said, “Ah, but do come with me, I will take great care of +thee, and guard thee from all light.” So they went away together, and +took with them their little child as well. She had a chamber built +there, so strong and thick that no ray could pierce through it; in this +he was to shut himself up when the candles were lit for the +wedding-feast. But the door was made of green wood which warped and +left a little crack which no one noticed. The wedding was celebrated +with magnificence, but when the procession with all its candles and +torches came back from church, and passed by this apartment, a ray +about the breadth of a hair fell on the King’s son, and when this ray +touched him, he was transformed in an instant, and when she came in and +looked for him, she did not see him, but a white dove was sitting +there. The dove said to her, “For seven years must I fly about the +world, but at every seventh step that you take I will let fall a drop +of red blood and a white feather, and these will show thee the way, and +if thou followest the trace thou canst release me.” Thereupon the dove +flew out at the door, and she followed him, and at every seventh step a +red drop of blood and a little white feather fell down and showed her +the way. + +So she went continually further and further in the wide world, never +looking about her or resting, and the seven years were almost past; +then she rejoiced and thought that they would soon be delivered, and +yet they were so far from it! Once when they were thus moving onwards, +no little feather and no drop of red blood fell, and when she raised +her eyes the dove had disappeared. And as she thought to herself, “In +this no man can help thee,” she climbed up to the sun, and said to him, +“Thou shinest into every crevice, and over every peak, hast thou not +seen a white dove flying?” “No,” said the sun, “I have seen none, but I +present thee with a casket, open it when thou art in sorest need.” Then +she thanked the sun, and went on until evening came and the moon +appeared; she then asked her, “Thou shinest the whole night through, +and on every field and forest, hast thou not seen a white dove flying?” +“No,” said the moon, “I have seen no dove, but here I give thee an egg, +break it when thou art in great need.” She thanked the moon, and went +on until the night wind came up and blew on her, then she said to it, +“Thou blowest over every tree and under every leaf, hast thou not seen +a white dove flying?” “No,” said the night wind, “I have seen none, but +I will ask the three other winds, perhaps they have seen it.” The east +wind and the west wind came, and had seen nothing, but the south wind +said, “I have seen the white dove, it has flown to the Red Sea, where +it has become a lion again, for the seven years are over, and the lion +is there fighting with a dragon; the dragon, however, is an enchanted +princess.” The night wind then said to her, “I will advise thee; go to +the Red Sea, on the right bank are some tall reeds, count them, break +off the eleventh, and strike the dragon with it, then the lion will be +able to subdue it, and both then will regain their human form. After +that, look round and thou wilt see the griffin which is by the Red Sea; +swing thyself, with thy beloved, on to his back, and the bird will +carry you over the sea to your own home. Here is a nut for thee, when +thou are above the center of the sea, let the nut fall, it will +immediately shoot up, and a tall nut-tree will grow out of the water on +which the griffin may rest; for if he cannot rest, he will not be +strong enough to carry you across, and if thou forgettest to throw down +the nut, he will let you fall into the sea.” + +Then she went thither, and found everything as the night wind had said. +She counted the reeds by the sea, and cut off the eleventh, struck the +dragon therewith, whereupon the lion overcame it, and immediately both +of them regained their human shapes. But when the princess, who had +before been the dragon, was delivered from enchantment, she took the +youth by the arm, seated herself on the griffin, and carried him off +with her. There stood the poor maiden who had wandered so far and was +again forsaken. She sat down and cried, but at last she took courage +and said, “Still I will go as far as the wind blows and as long as the +cock crows, until I find him,” and she went forth by long, long roads, +until at last she came to the castle where both of them were living +together; there she heard that soon a feast was to be held, in which +they would celebrate their wedding, but she said, “God still helps me,” +and opened the casket that the sun had given her. A dress lay therein +as brilliant as the sun itself. So she took it out and put it on, and +went up into the castle, and everyone, even the bride herself, looked +at her with astonishment. The dress pleased the bride so well that she +thought it might do for her wedding-dress, and asked if it was for +sale? “Not for money or land,” answered she, “but for flesh and blood.” +The bride asked her what she meant by that, so she said, “Let me sleep +a night in the chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.” The bride would +not, yet wanted very much to have the dress; at last she consented, but +the page was to give the prince a sleeping-draught. When it was night, +therefore, and the youth was already asleep, she was led into the +chamber; she seated herself on the bed and said, “I have followed after +thee for seven years. I have been to the sun and the moon, and the four +winds, and have enquired for thee, and have helped thee against the +dragon; wilt thou, then quite forget me?” But the prince slept so +soundly that it only seemed to him as if the wind were whistling +outside in the fir-trees. When therefore day broke, she was led out +again, and had to give up the golden dress. And as that even had been +of no avail, she was sad, went out into a meadow, sat down there, and +wept. While she was sitting there, she thought of the egg which the +moon had given her; she opened it, and there came out a clucking hen +with twelve chickens all of gold, and they ran about chirping, and +crept again under the old hen’s wings; nothing more beautiful was ever +seen in the world! Then she arose, and drove them through the meadow +before her, until the bride looked out of the window. The little +chickens pleased her so much that she immediately came down and asked +if they were for sale. “Not for money or land, but for flesh and blood; +let me sleep another night in the chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.” +The bride said, “Yes,” intending to cheat her as on the former evening. +But when the prince went to bed he asked the page what the murmuring +and rustling in the night had been? On this the page told all; that he +had been forced to give him a sleeping-draught, because a poor girl had +slept secretly in the chamber, and that he was to give him another that +night. The prince said, “Pour out the draught by the bed-side.” At +night, she was again led in, and when she began to relate how ill all +had fared with her, he immediately recognized his beloved wife by her +voice, sprang up and cried, “Now I really am released! I have been as +it were in a dream, for the strange princess has bewitched me so that I +have been compelled to forget thee, but God has delivered me from the +spell at the right time.” Then they both left the castle secretly in +the night, for they feared the father of the princess, who was a +sorcerer, and they seated themselves on the griffin which bore them +across the Red Sea, and when they were in the midst of it, she let fall +the nut. Immediately a tall nut-tree grew up, whereon the bird rested, +and then carried them home, where they found their child, who had grown +tall and beautiful, and they lived thenceforth happily until their +death. + + + +89 The Goose-Girl + +There was once upon a time an old Queen whose husband had been dead for +many years, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess grew up +she was betrothed to a prince who lived at a great distance. When the +time came for her to be married, and she had to journey forth into the +distant kingdom, the aged Queen packed up for her many costly vessels +of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and silver; and cups and +jewels, in short, everything which appertained to a royal dowry, for +she loved her child with all her heart. She likewise sent her maid in +waiting, who was to ride with her, and hand her over to the bridegroom, +and each had a horse for the journey, but the horse of the King’s +daughter was called Falada, and could speak. So when the hour of +parting had come, the aged mother went into her bedroom, took a small +knife and cut her finger with it until it bled, then she held a white +handkerchief to it into which she let three drops of blood fall, gave +it to her daughter and said, “Dear child, preserve this carefully, it +will be of service to you on your way.” + +So they took a sorrowful leave of each other; the princess put the +piece of cloth in her bosom, mounted her horse, and then went away to +her bridegroom. After she had ridden for a while she felt a burning +thirst, and said to her waiting-maid, “Dismount, and take my cup which +thou hast brought with thee for me, and get me some water from the +stream, for I should like to drink.” “If you are thirsty,” said the +waiting-maid, “get off your horse yourself, and lie down and drink out +of the water, I don’t choose to be your servant.” So in her great +thirst the princess alighted, bent down over the water in the stream +and drank, and was not allowed to drink out of the golden cup. Then she +said, “Ah, Heaven!” and the three drops of blood answered, “If thy +mother knew, her heart would break.” But the King’s daughter was +humble, said nothing, and mounted her horse again. She rode some miles +further, but the day was warm, the sun scorched her, and she was +thirsty once more, and when they came to a stream of water, she again +cried to her waiting-maid, “Dismount, and give me some water in my +golden cup,” for she had long ago forgotten the girl’s ill words. But +the waiting-maid said still more haughtily, “If you wish to drink, +drink as you can, I don’t choose to be your maid.” Then in her great +thirst the King’s daughter alighted, bent over the flowing stream, wept +and said, “Ah, Heaven!” and the drops of blood again replied, “If thy +mother knew this, her heart would break.” And as she was thus drinking +and leaning right over the stream, the handkerchief with the three +drops of blood fell out of her bosom, and floated away with the water +without her observing it, so great was her trouble. The waiting-maid, +however, had seen it, and she rejoiced to think that she had now power +over the bride, for since the princess had lost the drops of blood, she +had become weak and powerless. So now when she wanted to mount her +horse again, the one that was called Falada, the waiting-maid said, +“Falada is more suitable for me, and my nag will do for thee” and the +princess had to be content with that. Then the waiting-maid, with many +hard words, bade the princess exchange her royal apparel for her own +shabby clothes; and at length she was compelled to swear by the clear +sky above her, that she would not say one word of this to any one at +the royal court, and if she had not taken this oath she would have been +killed on the spot. But Falada saw all this, and observed it well. + +The waiting-maid now mounted Falada, and the true bride the bad horse, +and thus they traveled onwards, until at length they entered the royal +palace. There were great rejoicings over her arrival, and the prince +sprang forward to meet her, lifted the waiting-maid from her horse, and +thought she was his consort. She was conducted upstairs, but the real +princess was left standing below. Then the old King looked out of the +window and saw her standing in the courtyard, and how dainty and +delicate and beautiful she was, and instantly went to the royal +apartment, and asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was +standing down below in the courtyard, and who she was? “I picked her up +on my way for a companion; give the girl something to work at, that she +may not stand idle.” But the old King had no work for her, and knew of +none, so he said, “I have a little boy who tends the geese, she may +help him.” The boy was called Conrad, and the true bride had to help +him to tend the geese. Soon afterwards the false bride said to the +young King, “Dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favour.” He +answered, “I will do so most willingly.” “Then send for the knacker, +and have the head of the horse on which I rode here cut off, for it +vexed me on the way.” In reality, she was afraid that the horse might +tell how she had behaved to the King’s daughter. Then she succeeded in +making the King promise that it should be done, and the faithful Falada +was to die; this came to the ears of the real princess, and she +secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of gold if he would +perform a small service for her. There was a great dark-looking gateway +in the town, through which morning and evening she had to pass with the +geese: would he be so good as to nail up Falada’s head on it, so that +she might see him again, more than once. The knacker’s man promised to +do that, and cut off the head, and nailed it fast beneath the dark +gateway. + +Early in the morning, when she and Conrad drove out their flock beneath +this gateway, she said in passing, + +“Alas, Falada, hanging there!” + + +Then the head answered, + +“Alas, young Queen, how ill you fare! +If this your tender mother knew, +Her heart would surely break in two.” + + +Then they went still further out of the town, and drove their geese +into the country. And when they had come to the meadow, she sat down +and unbound her hair which was like pure gold, and Conrad saw it and +delighted in its brightness, and wanted to pluck out a few hairs. Then +she said, + +“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say, +Blow Conrad’s little hat away, +And make him chase it here and there, +Until I have braided all my hair, +And bound it up again.” + + +And there came such a violent wind that it blew Conrad’s hat far away +across country, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back +she had finished combing her hair and was putting it up again, and he +could not get any of it. Then Conrad was angry, and would not speak to +her, and thus they watched the geese until the evening, and then they +went home. + +Next day when they were driving the geese out through the dark gateway, +the maiden said, + +“Alas, Falada, hanging there!” + + +Falada answered, + +“Alas, young Queen, how ill you fare! +If this your tender mother knew, +Her heart would surely break in two.” + + +And she sat down again in the field and began to comb out her hair, and +Conrad ran and tried to clutch it, so she said in haste, + +“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say, +Blow Conrad’s little hat away, +And make him chase it here and there, +Until I have braided all my hair, +And bound it up again.” + + +Then the wind blew, and blew his little hat off his head and far away, +and Conrad was forced to run after it, and when he came back, her hair +had been put up a long time, and he could get none of it, and so they +looked after their geese till evening came. + +But in the evening after they had got home, Conrad went to the old +King, and said, “I won’t tend the geese with that girl any longer!” +“Why not?” inquired the aged King. “Oh, because she vexes me the whole +day long.” Then the aged King commanded him to relate what it was that +she did to him. And Conrad said, “In the morning when we pass beneath +the dark gateway with the flock, there is a sorry horse’s head on the +wall, and she says to it, + +“Alas, Falada, hanging there!” + + +And the head replies, + +“Alas, young Queen how ill you fare! +If this your tender mother knew, +Her heart would surely break in two.” + + +And Conrad went on to relate what happened on the goose pasture, and +how when there he had to chase his hat. + +The aged King commanded him to drive his flock out again next day, and +as soon as morning came, he placed himself behind the dark gateway, and +heard how the maiden spoke to the head of Falada, and then he too went +into the country, and hid himself in the thicket in the meadow. There +he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and the goose-boy bringing +their flock, and how after a while she sat down and unplaited her hair, +which shone with radiance. And soon she said, + +“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say, +Blow Conrad’s little hat away, +And make him chase it here and there, +Until I have braided all my hair, +And bound it up again.” + + +Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad’s hat, so that he had +to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and plaiting +her hair, all of which the King observed. Then, quite unseen, he went +away, and when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her +aside, and asked why she did all these things. “I may not tell you +that, and I dare not lament my sorrows to any human being, for I have +sworn not to do so by the heaven which is above me; if I had not done +that, I should have lost my life.” He urged her and left her no peace, +but he could draw nothing from her. Then said he, “If thou wilt not +tell me anything, tell thy sorrows to the iron-stove there,” and he +went away. Then she crept into the iron-stove, and began to weep and +lament, and emptied her whole heart, and said, “Here am I deserted by +the whole world, and yet I am a King’s daughter, and a false +waiting-maid has by force brought me to such a pass that I have been +compelled to put off my royal apparel, and she has taken my place with +my bridegroom, and I have to perform menial service as a goose-girl. If +my mother did but know that, her heart would break.” + +The aged King, however, was standing outside by the pipe of the stove, +and was listening to what she said, and heard it. Then he came back +again, and bade her come out of the stove. And royal garments were +placed on her, and it was marvellous how beautiful she was! The aged +King summoned his son, and revealed to him that he had got the false +bride who was only a waiting-maid, but that the true one was standing +there, as the sometime goose-girl. The young King rejoiced with all his +heart when he saw her beauty and youth, and a great feast was made +ready to which all the people and all good friends were invited. At the +head of the table sat the bridegroom with the King’s daughter at one +side of him, and the waiting-maid on the other, but the waiting-maid +was blinded, and did not recognize the princess in her dazzling array. +When they had eaten and drunk, and were merry, the aged King asked the +waiting-maid as a riddle, what a person deserved who had behaved in +such and such a way to her master, and at the same time related the +whole story, and asked what sentence such an one merited? Then the +false bride said, “She deserves no better fate than to be stripped +entirely naked, and put in a barrel which is studded inside with +pointed nails, and two white horses should be harnessed to it, which +will drag her along through one street after another, till she is +dead.” “It is thou,” said the aged King, “and thou hast pronounced +thine own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto thee.” And when the +sentence had been carried out, the young King married his true bride, +and both of them reigned over their kingdom in peace and happiness. + + + +90 The Young Giant + +Once on a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb, and +did not become any bigger, and during several years did not grow one +hair’s breadth. Once when the father was going out to plough, the +little one said, “Father, I will go out with you.” “Thou wouldst go out +with me?” said the father. “Stay here, thou wilt be of no use out +there, besides thou mightest get lost!” Then Thumbling began to cry, +and for the sake of peace his father put him in his pocket, and took +him with him. When he was outside in the field, he took him out again, +and set him in a freshly-cut furrow. Whilst he was there, a great giant +came over the hill. “Do thou see that great bogie?” said the father, +for he wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him good; “he is +coming to fetch thee.” The giant, however, had scarcely taken two steps +with his long legs before he was in the furrow. He took up little +Thumbling carefully with two fingers, examined him, and without saying +one word went away with him. His father stood by, but could not utter a +sound for terror, and he thought nothing else but that his child was +lost, and that as long as he lived he should never set eyes on him +again. + +The giant, however, carried him home, suckled him, and Thumbling grew +and became tall and strong after the manner of giants. When two years +had passed, the old giant took him into the forest, wanted to try him, +and said, “Pull up a stick for thyself.” Then the boy was already so +strong that he tore up a young tree out of the earth by the roots. But +the giant thought, “We must do better than that,” took him back again, +and suckled him two years longer. When he tried him, his strength had +increased so much that he could tear an old tree out of the ground. +That was still not enough for the giant; he again suckled him for two +years, and when he then went with him into the forest and said, “Now +just tear up a proper stick for me,” the boy tore up the strongest +oak-tree from the earth, so that it split, and that was a mere trifle +to him. “Now that will do,” said the giant, “thou art perfect,” and +took him back to the field from whence he had brought him. His father +was there following the plough. The young giant went up to him, and +said, “Does my father see what a fine man his son has grown into?” + +The farmer was alarmed, and said, “No, thou art not my son; I don’t +want thee leave me!” “Truly I am your son; allow me to do your work, I +can plough as well as you, nay better.” “No, no, thou art not my son; +and thou canst not plough go away!” However, as he was afraid of this +great man, he left go of the plough, stepped back and stood at one side +of the piece of land. Then the youth took the plough, and just pressed +it with one hand, but his grasp was so strong that the plough went deep +into the earth. The farmer could not bear to see that, and called to +him, “If thou art determined to plough, thou must not press so hard on +it, that makes bad work.” The youth, however, unharnessed the horses, +and drew the plough himself, saying, “Just go home, father, and bid my +mother make ready a large dish of food, and in the meantime I will go +over the field.” Then the farmer went home, and ordered his wife to +prepare the food; but the youth ploughed the field which was two acres +large, quite alone, and then he harnessed himself to the harrow, and +harrowed the whole of the land, using two harrows at once. When he had +done it, he went into the forest, and pulled up two oak-trees, laid +them across his shoulders, and hung on them one harrow behind and one +before, and also one horse behind and one before, and carried all as if +it had been a bundle of straw, to his parents’ house. When he entered +the yard, his mother did not recognize him, and asked, “Who is that +horrible tall man?” The farmer said, “That is our son.” She said, “No +that cannot be our son, we never had such a tall one, ours was a little +thing.” She called to him, “Go away, we do not want thee!” The youth +was silent, but led his horses to the stable, gave them some oats and +hay, and all that they wanted. When he had done this, he went into the +parlour, sat down on the bench and said, “Mother, now I should like +something to eat, will it soon be ready?” Then she said, “Yes,” and +brought in two immense dishes full of food, which would have been +enough to satisfy herself and her husband for a week. The youth, +however, ate the whole of it himself, and asked if she had nothing more +to set before him. “No,” she replied, “that is all we have.” “But that +was only a taste, I must have more.” She did not dare to oppose him, +and went and put a huge caldron full of food on the fire, and when it +was ready, carried it in. “At length come a few crumbs,” said he, and +ate all there was, but it was still not sufficient to appease his +hunger. Then said he, “Father, I see well that with you I shall never +have food enough; if you will get me an iron staff which is strong, and +which I cannot break against my knees, I will go out into the world.” +The farmer was glad, put his two horses in his cart, and fetched from +the smith a staff so large and thick, that the two horses could only +just bring it away. The youth laid it across his knees, and snap! he +broke it in two in the middle like a bean-stalk, and threw it away. The +father then harnessed four horses, and brought a bar which was so long +and thick, that the four horses could only just drag it. The son +snapped this also in twain against his knees, threw it away, and said, +“Father, this can be of no use to me, you must harness more horses, and +bring a stronger staff.” So the father harnessed eight horses, and +brought one which was so long and thick, that the eight horses could +only just carry it. When the son took it in his hand, he broke off a +bit from the top of it also, and said, “Father, I see that you will not +be able to procure me any such staff as I want, I will remain no longer +with you.” + +So he went away, and gave out that he was a smith’s apprentice. He +arrived at a village, wherein lived a smith who was a greedy fellow, +who never did a kindness to any one, but wanted everything for himself. +The youth went into the smithy and asked if he needed a journeyman. +“Yes,” said the smith, and looked at him, and thought, “That is a +strong fellow who will strike out well, and earn his bread.” So he +asked, “How much wages dost thou want?” “I don’t want any at all,” he +replied, “only every fortnight, when the other journeymen are paid, I +will give thee two blows, and thou must bear them.” The miser was +heartily satisfied, and thought he would thus save much money. Next +morning, the strange journeyman was to begin to work, but when the +master brought the glowing bar, and the youth struck his first blow, +the iron flew asunder, and the anvil sank so deep into the earth, that +there was no bringing it out again. Then the miser grew angry, and +said, “Oh, but I can’t make any use of you, you strike far too +powerfully; what will you have for the one blow?” + +Then said he, “I will only give you quite a small blow, that’s all.” +And he raised his foot, and gave him such a kick that he flew away over +four loads of hay. Then he sought out the thickest iron bar in the +smithy for himself, took it as a stick in his hand and went onwards. + +When he had walked for some time, he came to a small farm, and asked +the bailiff if he did not require a head-servant. “Yes,” said the +bailiff, “I can make use of one; you look a strong fellow who can do +something, how much a year do you want as wages?” He again replied that +he wanted no wages at all, but that every year he would give him three +blows, which he must bear. Then the bailiff was satisfied, for he, too, +was a covetous fellow. Next morning all the servants were to go into +the wood, and the others were already up, but the head-servant was +still in bed. Then one of them called to him, “Get up, it is time; we +are going into the wood, and thou must go with us.” “Ah,” said he quite +roughly and surlily, “you may just go, then; I shall be back again +before any of you.” Then the others went to the bailiff, and told him +that the head-man was still lying in bed, and would not go into the +wood with them. The bailiff said they were to awaken him again, and +tell him to harness the horses. The head-man, however, said as before, +“Just go there, I shall be back again before any of you.” And then he +stayed in bed two hours longer. At length he arose from the feathers, +but first he got himself two bushels of peas from the loft, made +himself some broth with them, ate it at his leisure, and when that was +done, went and harnessed the horses, and drove into the wood. Not far +from the wood was a ravine through which he had to pass, so he first +drove the horses on, and then stopped them, and went behind the cart, +took trees and brushwood, and made a great barricade, so that no horse +could get through. When he was entering the wood, the others were just +driving out of it with their loaded carts to go home; then said he to +them, “Drive on, I will still get home before you do.” He did not drive +far into the wood, but at once tore two of the very largest trees of +all out of the earth, threw them on his cart, and turned round. When he +came to the barricade, the others were still standing there, not able +to get through. “Don’t you see,” said he, “that if you had stayed with +me, you would have got home just as quickly, and would have had another +hour’s sleep?” He now wanted to drive on, but his horses could not work +their way through, so he unharnessed them, laid them on the top of the +cart, took the shafts in his own hands, and pulled it all through, and +he did this just as easily as if it had been laden with feathers. When +he was over, he said to the others, “There, you see, I have got over +quicker than you,” and drove on, and the others had to stay where they +were. In the yard, however, he took a tree in his hand, showed it to +the bailiff, and said, “Isn’t that a fine bundle of wood?” Then said +the bailiff to his wife, “The servant is a good one, if he does sleep +long, he is still home before the others.” So he served the bailiff for +a year, and when that was over, and the other servants were getting +their wages, he said it was time for him to take his too. The bailiff, +however, was afraid of the blows which he was to receive, and earnestly +entreated him to excuse him from having them; for rather than that, he +himself would be head-servant, and the youth should be bailiff. “No,” +said he, “I will not be a bailiff, I am head-servant, and will remain +so, but I will administer that which we agreed on.” The bailiff was +willing to give him whatsoever he demanded, but it was of no use, the +head-servant said no to everything. Then the bailiff did not know what +to do, and begged for a fortnight’s delay, for he wanted to find some +way of escape. The head-servant consented to this delay. The bailiff +summoned all his clerks together, and they were to think the matter +over, and give him advice. The clerks pondered for a long time, but at +last they said that no one was sure of his life with the head-servant, +for he could kill a man as easily as a midge, and that the bailiff +ought to make him get into the well and clean it, and when he was down +below, they would roll up one of the mill-stones which was lying there, +and throw it on his head; and then he would never return to daylight. +The advice pleased the bailiff, and the head-servant was quite willing +to go down the well. When he was standing down below at the bottom, +they rolled down the largest mill-stone and thought they had broken his +skull, but he cried, “Chase away those hens from the well, they are +scratching in the sand up there, and throwing the grains into my eyes, +so that I can’t see.” So the bailiff cried, “Sh-sh,” and pretended to +frighten the hens away. When the head-servant had finished his work, he +climbed up and said, “Just look what a beautiful neck-tie I have on,” +and behold it was the mill-stone which he was wearing round his neck. +The head-servant now wanted to take his reward, but the bailiff again +begged for a fortnight’s delay. The clerks met together and advised him +to send the head-servant to the haunted mill to grind corn by night, +for from thence as yet no man had ever returned in the morning alive. +The proposal pleased the bailiff, he called the head-servant that very +evening, and ordered him to take eight bushels of corn to the mill, and +grind it that night, for it was wanted. So the head-servant went to the +loft, and put two bushels in his right pocket, and two in his left, and +took four in a wallet, half on his back, and half on his breast, and +thus laden went to the haunted mill. The miller told him that he could +grind there very well by day, but not by night, for the mill was +haunted, and that up to the present time whosoever had gone into it at +night had been found in the morning lying dead inside. He said, “I will +manage it, just you go away to bed.” Then he went into the mill, and +poured out the corn. About eleven o’clock he went into the miller’s +room, and sat down on the bench. When he had sat there a while, a door +suddenly opened, and a large table came in, and on the table, wine and +roasted meats placed themselves, and much good food besides, but +everything came of itself, for no one was there to carry it. After this +the chairs pushed themselves up, but no people came, until all at once +he beheld fingers, which handled knives and forks, and laid food on the +plates, but with this exception he saw nothing. As he was hungry, and +saw the food, he, too, place himself at the table, ate with those who +were eating and enjoyed it. When he had had enough, and the others also +had quite emptied their dishes, he distinctly heard all the candles +being suddenly snuffed out, and as it was now pitch dark, he felt +something like a box on the ear. Then he said, “If anything of that +kind comes again, I shall strike out in return.” And when he had +received a second box on the ear, he, too struck out. And so it +continued the whole night. He took nothing without returning it, but +repaid everything with interest, and did not lay about him in vain. At +daybreak, however, everything ceased. When the miller had got up, he +wanted to look after him, and wondered if he were still alive. Then the +youth said, “I have eaten my fill, have received some boxes on the +ears, but I have given some in return.” The miller rejoiced, and said +that the mill was now released from the spell, and wanted to give him +much money as a reward. But he said, “Money, I will not have, I have +enough of it.” So he took his meal on his back, went home, and told the +bailiff that he had done what he had been told to do, and would now +have the reward agreed on. When the bailiff heard that, he was +seriously alarmed and quite beside himself; he walked backwards and +forwards in the room, and drops of perspiration ran down from his +forehead. Then he opened the window to get some fresh air, but before +he was aware, the head-servant had given him such a kick that he flew +through the window out into the air, and so far away that no one ever +saw him again. Then said the head-servant to the bailiff’s wife, “If he +does not come back, you must take the other blow.” She cried, “No, no I +cannot bear it,” and opened the other window, because drops of +perspiration were running down her forehead. Then he gave her such a +kick that she, too, flew out, and as she was lighter she went much +higher than her husband. Her husband cried, “Do come to me,” but she +replied, “Come thou to me, I cannot come to thee.” And they hovered +about there in the air, and could not get to each other, and whether +they are still hovering about, or not, I do not know, but the young +giant took up his iron bar, and went on his way. + + + +91 The Gnome + +There was once upon a time a rich King who had three daughters, who +daily went to walk in the palace garden, and the King was a great lover +of all kinds of fine trees, but there was one for which he had such an +affection, that if anyone gathered an apple from it he wished him a +hundred fathoms underground. And when harvest time came, the apples on +this tree were all as red as blood. The three daughters went every day +beneath the tree, and looked to see if the wind had not blown down an +apple, but they never by any chance found one, and the tree was so +loaded with them that it was almost breaking, and the branches hung +down to the ground. Then the King’s youngest child had a great desire +for an apple, and said to her sisters, “Our father loves us far too +much to wish us underground, it is my belief that he would only do that +to people who were strangers.” And while she was speaking, the child +plucked off quite a large apple, and ran to her sisters, saying, “Just +taste, my dear little sisters, for never in my life have I tasted +anything so delightful.” Then the two other sisters also ate some of +the apple, whereupon all three sank deep down into the earth, where +they could hear no cock crow. + +When mid-day came, the King wished to call them to come to dinner, but +they were nowhere to be found. He sought them everywhere in the palace +and garden, but could not find them. Then he was much troubled, and +made known to the whole land that whosoever brought his daughters back +again should have one of them to wife. Hereupon so many young men went +about the country in search, that there was no counting them, for every +one loved the three children because they were so kind to all, and so +fair of face. Three young huntsmen also went out, and when they had +travelled about for eight days, they arrived at a great castle, in +which were beautiful apartments, and in one room a table was laid on +which were delicate dishes which were still so warm that they were +smoking, but in the whole of the castle no human being was either to be +seen or heard. They waited there for half a day, and the food still +remained warm and smoking, and at length they were so hungry that they +sat down and ate, and agreed with each other that they would stay and +live in that castle, and that one of them, who should be chosen by +casting lots, should remain in the house, and the two others seek the +King’s daughters. They cast lots, and the lot fell on the eldest; so +next day the two younger went out to seek, and the eldest had to stay +home. At mid-day came a small, small mannikin and begged for a piece of +bread, then the huntsman took the bread which he had found there, and +cut a round off the loaf and was about to give it to him, but whilst he +was giving it to the mannikin, the latter let it fall, and asked the +huntsman to be so good as to give him that piece again. The huntsman +was about to do so and stooped, on which the mannikin took a stick, +seized him by the hair, and gave him a good beating. Next day, the +second stayed at home, and he fared no better. When the two others +returned in the evening, the eldest said, “Well, how have you got on?” + +“Oh, very badly,” said he, and then they lamented their misfortune +together, but they said nothing about it to the youngest, for they did +not like him at all, and always called him Stupid Hans, because he did +not exactly belong to the forest. On the third day, the youngest stayed +at home, and again the little mannikin came and begged for a piece of +bread. When the youth gave it to him, the elf let it fall as before, +and asked him to be so good as to give him that piece again. Then said +Hans to the little mannikin, “What! canst thou not pick up that piece +thyself? If thou wilt not take as much trouble as that for thy daily +bread, thou dost not deserve to have it.” Then the mannikin grew very +angry and said he was to do it, but the huntsman would not, and took my +dear mannikin, and gave him a thorough beating. Then the mannikin +screamed terribly, and cried, “Stop, stop, and let me go, and I will +tell thee where the King’s daughters are.” When Hans heard that, he +left off beating him and the mannikin told him that he was an earth +mannikin, and that there were more than a thousand like him, and that +if he would go with him he would show him where the King’s daughters +were. Then he showed him a deep well, but there was no water in it. And +the elf said that he knew well that the companions Hans had with him +did not intend to deal honourably with him, therefore if he wished to +deliver the King’s children, he must do it alone. The two other +brothers would also be very glad to recover the King’s daughters, but +they did not want to have any trouble or danger. Hans was therefore to +take a large basket, and he must seat himself in it with his hanger and +a bell, and be let down. Below were three rooms, and in each of them +was a princess, with a many-headed dragon, whose heads she was to comb +and trim, but he must cut them off. And having said all this, the elf +vanished. When it was evening the two brothers came and asked how he +had got on, and he said, “pretty well so far,” and that he had seen no +one except at mid-day when a little mannikin had come and begged for a +piece of bread, that he had given some to him, but that the mannikin +had let it fall and had asked him to pick it up again; but as he did +not choose to do that, the elf had begun to lose his temper, and that +he had done what he ought not, and had given the elf a beating, on +which he had told him where the King’s daughters were. Then the two +were so angry at this that they grew green and yellow. Next morning +they went to the well together, and drew lots who should first seat +himself in the basket, and again the lot fell on the eldest, and he was +to seat himself in it, and take the bell with him. Then he said, “If I +ring, you must draw me up again immediately.” When he had gone down for +a short distance, he rang, and they at once drew him up again. Then the +second seated himself in the basket, but he did just the same as the +first, and then it was the turn of the youngest, but he let himself be +lowered quite to the bottom. When he had got out of the basket, he took +his hanger, and went and stood outside the first door and listened, and +heard the dragon snoring quite loudly. He opened the door slowly, and +one of the princesses was sitting there, and had nine dragon’s heads +lying upon her lap, and was combing them. Then he took his hanger and +hewed at them, and the nine fell off. The princess sprang up, threw her +arms round his neck, embraced and kissed him repeatedly, and took her +stomacher, which was made of pure gold, and hung it round his neck. +Then he went to the second princess, who had a dragon with five heads +to comb, and delivered her also, and to the youngest, who had a dragon +with four heads, he went likewise. And they all rejoiced, and embraced +him and kissed him without stopping. Then he rang very loud, so that +those above heard him, and he placed the princesses one after the other +in the basket, and had them all drawn up, but when it came to his own +turn he remembered the words of the elf, who had told him that his +comrades did not mean well by him. So he took a great stone which was +lying there, and placed it in the basket, and when it was about half +way up, his false brothers above cut the rope, so that the basket with +the stone fell to the ground, and they thought that he was dead, and +ran away with the three princesses, making them promise to tell their +father that it was they who had delivered them, and then they went to +the King, and each demanded a princess in marriage. + +In the meantime the youngest huntsman was wandering about the three +chambers in great trouble, fully expecting to have to end his days +there, when he saw, hanging on the wall, a flute; then said he, “Why +dost thou hang there, no one can be merry here?” He looked at the +dragons, heads likewise and said, “You too cannot help me now.” He +walked backwards and forwards for such a long time that he made the +surface of the ground quite smooth. But at last other thoughts came to +his mind, and he took the flute from the wall, and played a few notes +on it, and suddenly a number of elves appeared, and with every note +that he sounded one more came. Then he played until the room was +entirely filled. They all asked what he desired, so he said he wished +to get above ground back to daylight, on which they seized him by every +hair that grew on his head, and thus they flew with him onto the earth +again. When he was above ground, he at once went to the King’s palace, +just as the wedding of one princess was about to be celebrated, and he +went to the room where the King and his three daughters were. When the +princesses saw him they fainted. Hereupon the King was angry, and +ordered him to be put in prison at once, because he thought he must +have done some injury to the children. When the princesses came to +themselves, however, they entreated the King to set him free again. The +King asked why, and they said that they were not allowed to tell that, +but their father said that they were to tell it to the stove. And he +went out, listened at the door, and heard everything. Then he caused +the two brothers to be hanged on the gallows, and to the third he gave +his youngest daughter, and on that occasion I wore a pair of glass +shoes, and I struck them against a stone, and they said, “Klink,” and +were broken. + + + +92 The King of the Golden Mountain + +There was a certain merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl; +they were both young, and could not walk. And two richly-laden ships of +his sailed forth to sea with all his property on board, and just as he +was expecting to win much money by them, news came that they had gone +to the bottom, and now instead of being a rich man he was a poor one, +and had nothing left but one field outside the town. In order to drive +his misfortune a little out of his thoughts, he went out to this field, +and as he was walking forwards and backwards in it, a little black +mannikin stood suddenly by his side, and asked why he was so sad, and +what he was taking so much to heart. Then said the merchant, “If thou +couldst help me I would willingly tell thee.” “Who knows?” replied the +black dwarf. “Perhaps, I can help thee.” Then the merchant told him +that all he possessed had gone to the bottom of the sea, and that he +had nothing left but this field. “Do not trouble thyself,” said the +dwarf. “If thou wilt promise to give me the first thing that rubs +itself against thy leg when thou art at home again, and to bring it +here to this place in twelve years’ time, thou shalt have as much money +as thou wilt.” The merchant thought, “What can that be but my dog?” and +did not remember his little boy, so he said yes, gave the black man a +written and sealed promise, and went home. + +When he reached home, his little boy was so delighted that he held by a +bench, tottered up to him and seized him fast by the legs. The father +was shocked, for he remembered his promise, and now knew what he had +pledged himself to do; as however, he still found no money in his +chest, he thought the dwarf had only been jesting. A month afterwards +he went up to the garret, intending to gather together some old tin and +to sell it, and saw a great heap of money lying. Then he was happy +again, made purchases, became a greater merchant than before, and felt +that this world was well-governed. In the meantime the boy grew tall, +and at the same time sharp and clever. But the nearer the twelfth year +approached the more anxious grew the merchant, so that his distress +might be seen in his face. One day his son asked what ailed him, but +the father would not say. The boy, however, persisted so long, that at +last he told him that without being aware of what he was doing, he had +promised him to a black dwarf, and had received much money for doing +so. He said likewise that he had set his hand and seal to this, and +that now when twelve years had gone by he would have to give him up. +Then said the son, “Oh, father, do not be uneasy, all will go well. The +black man has no power over me.” The son had himself blessed by the +priest, and when the time came, father and son went together to the +field, and the son made a circle and placed himself inside it with his +father. Then came the black dwarf and said to the old man, “Hast thou +brought with thee that which thou hast promised me?” He was silent, but +the son asked, “What dost thou want here?” Then said the black dwarf, +“I have to speak with thy father, and not with thee.” The son replied, +“Thou hast betrayed and misled my father, give back the writing.” “No,” +said the black dwarf, “I will not give up my rights.” They spoke +together for a long time after this, but at last they agreed that the +son, as he did not belong to the enemy of mankind, nor yet to his +father, should seat himself in a small boat, which should lie on water +which was flowing away from them, and that the father should push it +off with his own foot, and then the son should remain given up to the +water. So he took leave of his father, placed himself in a little boat, +and the father had to push it off with his own foot. The boat capsized +so that the keel was uppermost, and the father believed his son was +lost, and went home and mourned for him. + +The boat, however, did not sink, but floated quietly away, and the boy +sat safely inside it, and it floated thus for a long time, until at +last it stopped by an unknown shore. Then he landed and saw a beautiful +castle before him, and set out to go to it. But when he entered it, he +found that it was bewitched. He went through every room, but all were +empty until he reached the last, where a snake lay coiled in a ring. +The snake, however, was an enchanted maiden, who rejoiced to see him, +and said, “Hast thou come, oh, my deliverer? I have already waited +twelve years for thee; this kingdom is bewitched, and thou must set it +free.” “How can I do that?” he inquired. “To-night come twelve black +men, covered with chains who will ask what thou art doing here; keep +silent; give them no answer, and let them do what they will with thee; +they will torment thee, beat thee, stab thee; let everything pass, only +do not speak; at twelve o’clock, they must go away again. On the second +night twelve others will come; on the third, four-and-twenty, who will +cut off thy head, but at twelve o’clock their power will be over, and +then if thou hast endured all, and hast not spoken the slightest word, +I shall be released. I will come to thee, and will have, in a bottle, +some of the water of life. I will rub thee with that, and then thou +wilt come to life again, and be as healthy as before.” Then said he, “I +will gladly set thee free.” And everything happened just as she had +said; the black men could not force a single word from him, and on the +third night the snake became a beautiful princess, who came with the +water of life and brought him back to life again. So she threw herself +into his arms and kissed him, and there was joy and gladness in the +whole castle. After this their marriage was celebrated, and he was King +of the Golden Mountain. + +They lived very happily together, and the Queen bore a fine boy. Eight +years had already gone by, when the King bethought him of his father; +his heart was moved, and he wished to visit him. The Queen, however, +would not let him go away, and said, “I know beforehand that it will +cause my unhappiness;” but he suffered her to have no rest until she +consented. At their parting she gave him a wishing-ring, and said, +“Take this ring and put it on thy finger, and then thou wilt +immediately be transported whithersoever thou wouldst be, only thou +must promise me not to use it in wishing me away from this place and +with thy father.” That he promised her, put the ring on his finger, and +wished himself at home, just outside the town where his father lived. +Instantly he found himself there, and made for the town, but when he +came to the gate, the sentries would not let him in, because he wore +such strange and yet such rich and magnificent clothing. Then he went +to a hill where a shepherd was watching his sheep, changed clothes with +him, put on his old shepherd’s-coat, and then entered the town without +hindrance. When he came to his father, he made himself known to him, +but he did not at all believe that the shepherd was his son, and said +he certainly had had a son, but that he was dead long ago; however, as +he saw he was a poor, needy shepherd, he would give him something to +eat. Then the shepherd said to his parents, “I am verily your son. Do +you know of no mark on my body by which you could recognize me?” “Yes,” +said his mother, “our son had a raspberry mark under his right arm.” He +slipped back his shirt, and they saw the raspberry under his right arm, +and no longer doubted that he was their son. Then he told them that he +was King of the Golden Mountain, and a king’s daughter was his wife, +and that they had a fine son of seven years old. Then said the father, +“That is certainly not true; it is a fine kind of a king who goes about +in a ragged shepherd’s-coat.” On this the son fell in a passion, and +without thinking of his promise, turned his ring round, and wished both +his wife and child with him. They were there in a second, but the Queen +wept, and reproached him, and said that he had broken his word, and had +brought misfortune upon her. He said, “I have done it thoughtlessly, +and not with evil intention,” and tried to calm her, and she pretended +to believe this; but she had mischief in her mind. + +Then he led her out of the town into the field, and showed her the +stream where the little boat had been pushed off, and then he said, “I +am tired; sit down, I will sleep awhile on thy lap.” And he laid his +head on her lap, and fell asleep. When he was asleep, she first drew +the ring from his finger, then she drew away the foot which was under +him, leaving only the slipper behind her, and she took her child in her +arms, and wished herself back in her own kingdom. When he awoke, there +he lay quite deserted, and his wife and child were gone, and so was the +ring from his finger, the slipper only was still there as a token. +“Home to thy parents thou canst not return,” thought he, “they would +say that thou wast a wizard; thou must be off, and walk on until thou +arrivest in thine own kingdom.” So he went away and came at length to a +hill by which three giants were standing, disputing with each other +because they did not know how to divide their father’s property. When +they saw him passing by, they called to him and said little men had +quick wits, and that he was to divide their inheritance for them. The +inheritance, however, consisted of a sword, which had this property +that if any one took it in his hand, and said, “All heads off but +mine,” every head would lie on the ground; secondly, of a cloak which +made any one who put it on invisible; thirdly, of a pair of boots which +could transport the wearer to any place he wished in a moment. He said, +“Give me the three things that I may see if they are still in good +condition.” They gave him the cloak, and when he had put it on, he was +invisible and changed into a fly. Then he resumed his own form and +said, “The cloak is a good one, now give me the sword.” They said, “No, +we will not give thee that; if thou were to say, All heads off but +mine,’ all our heads would be off, and thou alone wouldst be left with +thine.” Nevertheless they gave it to him with the condition that he was +only to try it against a tree. This he did, and the sword cut in two +the trunk of a tree as if it had been a blade of straw. Then he wanted +to have the boots likewise, but they said, “No, we will not give them; +if thou hadst them on thy feet and wert to wish thyself at the top of +the hill, we should be left down here with nothing.” “Oh, no,” said he, +“I will not do that.” So they gave him the boots as well. And now when +he had got all these things, he thought of nothing but his wife and his +child, and said as though to himself, “Oh, if I were but on the Golden +Mountain,” and at the same moment he vanished from the sight of the +giants, and thus their inheritance was divided. When he was near his +palace, he heard sounds of joy, and fiddles, and flutes, and the people +told him that his wife was celebrating her wedding with another. Then +he fell into a rage, and said, “False woman, she betrayed and deserted +me whilst I was asleep!” So he put on his cloak, and unseen by all went +into the palace. When he entered the dining-hall a great table was +spread with delicious food, and the guests were eating and drinking, +and laughing, and jesting. She sat on a royal seat in the midst of them +in splendid apparel, with a crown on her head. He placed himself behind +her, and no one saw him. When she put a piece of meat on a plate for +herself, he took it away and ate it, and when she poured out a glass of +wine for herself, he took it away and drank it. She was always helping +herself to something, and yet she never got anything, for plate and +glass disappeared immediately. Then dismayed and ashamed, she arose and +went to her chamber and wept, but he followed her there. She said, “Has +the devil power over me, or did my deliverer never come?” Then he +struck her in the face, and said, “Did thy deliverer never come? It is +he who has thee in his power, thou traitor. Have I deserved this from +thee?” Then he made himself visible, went into the hall, and cried, +“The wedding is at an end, the true King has returned.” The kings, +princes, and councillors who were assembled there, ridiculed and mocked +him, but he did not trouble to answer them, and said, “Will you go +away, or not?” On this they tried to seize him and pressed upon him, +but he drew his sword and said, “All heads off but mine,” and all the +heads rolled on the ground, and he alone was master, and once more King +of the Golden Mountain. + + + +93 The Raven + +There was once upon a time a Queen who had a little daughter who was +still so young that she had to be carried. One day the child was +naughty, and the mother might say what she liked, but the child would +not be quiet. Then she became impatient, and as the ravens were flying +about the palace, she opened the window and said, “I wish you were a +raven and would fly away, and then I should have some rest.” Scarcely +had she spoken the words, before the child was changed into a raven, +and flew from her arms out of the window. It flew into a dark forest, +and stayed in it a long time, and the parents heard nothing of their +child. Then one day a man was on his way through this forest and heard +the raven crying, and followed the voice, and when he came nearer, the +bird said, “I am a king’s daughter by birth, and am bewitched, but thou +canst set me free.” “What am I to do,” asked he. She said, “Go further +into the forest, and thou wilt find a house, wherein sits an aged +woman, who will offer thee meat and drink, but you must accept nothing, +for if you eatest and drinkest anything, thou wilt fall into a sleep, +and then thou wilt not be able to deliver me. In the garden behind the +house there is a great heap of tan, and on this thou shalt stand and +wait for me. For three days I will come every afternoon at two o’clock +in a carriage. On the first day four white horses will be harnessed to +it, then four chestnut horses, and lastly four black ones; but if thou +art not awake, but sleeping, I shall not be set free.” The man promised +to do everything that she desired, but the raven said, alas, “I know +already that thou wilt not deliver me; thou wilt accept something from +the woman.” Then the man once more promised that he would certainly not +touch anything either to eat or to drink. But when he entered the house +the old woman came to him and said, “Poor man, how faint you are; come +and refresh yourself; eat and drink.” “No,” said the man, “I will not +eat or drink.” She, however, let him have no peace, and said, “If you +will not eat, take one drink out of the glass; one is nothing.” Then he +let himself be persuaded, and drank. Shortly before two o’clock in the +afternoon he went into the garden to the tan heap to wait for the +raven. As he was standing there, his weariness all at once became so +great that he could not struggle against it, and lay down for a short +time, but he was determined not to go to sleep. Hardly, however, had he +lain down, than his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell asleep +and slept so soundly that nothing in the world could have aroused him. +At two o’clock the raven came driving up with four white horses, but +she was already in deep grief and said, “I know he is asleep.” And when +she came into the garden, he was indeed lying there asleep on the heap +of tan. She alighted from the carriage, went to him, shook him, and +called him, but he did not awake. Next day about noon, the old woman +came again and brought him food and drink, but he would not take any of +it. But she let him have no rest and persuaded him until at length he +again took one drink out of the glass. Towards two o’clock he went into +the garden to the tan heap to wait for the raven, but all at once felt +such a great weariness that his limbs would no longer support him. He +could not help himself, and was forced to lie down, and fell into a +heavy sleep. When the raven drove up with four brown horses, she was +already full of grief, and said, “I know he is asleep.” She went to +him, but there he lay sleeping, and there was no wakening him. Next day +the old woman asked what was the meaning of this? He was neither eating +nor drinking anything; did he want to die? He replied, “I am not +allowed to eat or drink, and will not do so.” But she set a dish with +food, and a glass with wine before him, and when he smelt it he could +not resist, and swallowed a deep draught. When the time came, he went +out into the garden to the heap of tan, and waited for the King’s +daughter; but he became still more weary than on the day before, and +lay down and slept as soundly as if he had been a stone. At two o’clock +the raven came with four black horses, and the coachman and everything +else was black. She was already in the deepest grief, and said, “I know +that he is asleep and cannot deliver me.” When she came to him, there +he was lying fast asleep. She shook him and called him, but she could +not waken him. Then she laid a loaf beside him, and after that a piece +of meat, and thirdly a bottle of wine, and he might consume as much of +all of them as he liked, but they would never grow less. After this she +took a gold ring from her finger, and put it on his, and her name was +graven on it. Lastly, she laid a letter beside him wherein was written +what she had given him, and that none of the things would ever grow +less; and in it was also written, “I see right well that here you will +never be able to deliver me, but if thou art still willing to deliver +me, come to the golden castle of Stromberg; it lies in thy power, of +that I am certain.” And when she had given him all these things, she +seated herself in her carriage, and drove to the golden castle of +Stromberg. + +When the man awoke and saw that he had slept, he was sad at heart, and +said, “She has certainly driven by, and I have not set her free.” Then +he perceived the things which were lying beside him, and read the +letter wherein was written how everything had happened. So he arose and +went away, intending to go to the golden castle of Stromberg, but he +did not know where it was. After he had walked about the world for a +long time, he entered into a dark forest, and walked for fourteen days, +and still could not find his way out. Then it was once more evening, +and he was so tired that he lay down in a thicket and fell asleep. Next +day he went onwards, and in the evening, as he was again about to lie +down beneath some bushes, he heard such a howling and crying that he +could not go to sleep. And at the time when people light the candles, +he saw one glimmering, and arose and went towards it. Then he came to a +house which seemed very small, for in front of it a great giant was +standing. He thought to himself, “If I go in, and the giant sees me, it +will very likely cost me my life.” + +At length he ventured it and went in. When the giant saw him, he said, +“It is well that thou comest, for it is long since I have eaten; I will +at once eat thee for my supper.” “I’d rather you would leave that +alone,” said the man, “I do not like to be eaten; but if thou hast any +desire to eat, I have quite enough here to satisfy thee.” “If that be +true,” said the giant, “thou mayst be easy, I was only going to devour +thee because I had nothing else.” Then they went, and sat down to the +table, and the man took out the bread, wine, and meat which would never +come to an end. “This pleases me well,” said the giant, and ate to his +heart’s content. Then the man said to him, “Canst thou tell me where +the golden castle of Stromberg is?” The giant said, “I will look at my +map; all the towns, and villages, and houses are to be found on it.” He +brought out the map which he had in the room and looked for the castle, +but it was not to be found on it. “It’s no matter!” said he, “I have +some still larger maps in my cupboard upstairs, and we will look in +them.” But there, too, it was in vain. The man now wanted to go +onwards, but the giant begged him to wait a few days longer until his +brother, who had gone out to bring some provisions, came home. When the +brother came home they inquired about the golden castle of Stromberg. +He replied, “When I have eaten and have had enough, I will look in the +map.” Then he went with them up to his chamber, and they searched in +his map, but could not find it. Then he brought out still older maps, +and they never rested until they found the golden castle of Stromberg, +but it was many thousand miles away. “How am I to get there?” asked the +man. The giant said, “I have two hours’ time, during which I will carry +you into the neighbourhood, but after that I must be at home to suckle +the child that we have.” So the giant carried the man to about a +hundred leagues from the castle, and said, “Thou canst very well walk +the rest of the way alone.” And he turned back, but the man went +onwards day and night, until at length he came to the golden castle of +Stromberg. It stood on a glass-mountain, and the bewitched maiden drove +in her carriage round the castle, and then went inside it. He rejoiced +when he saw her and wanted to climb up to her, but when he began to do +so he always slipped down the glass again. And when he saw that he +could not reach her, he was filled with trouble, and said to himself, +“I will stay down here below, and wait for her.” So he built himself a +hut and stayed in it for a whole year, and every day saw the King’s +daughter driving about above, but never could go to her. Then one day +he saw from his hut three robbers who were beating each other, and +cried to them, “God be with ye!” They stopped when they heard the cry, +but as they saw no one, they once more began to beat each other, and +that too most dangerously. So he again cried, “God be with ye!” Again +they stopped, looked round about, but as they saw no one they went on +beating each other. Then he cried for the third time, “God be with ye,” +and thought, “I must see what these three are about,” and went thither +and asked why they were beating each other so furiously. One of them +said that he found a stick, and that when he struck a door with it, +that door would spring open. The next said that he had found a mantle, +and that whenever he put it on, he was invisible, but the third said he +had found a horse on which a man could ride everywhere, even up the +glass-mountain. And now they did not know whether they ought to have +these things in common, or whether they ought to divide them. Then the +man said, “I will give you something in exchange for these three +things. Money indeed have I not, but I have other things of more value; +but first I must try yours to see if you have told the truth.” Then +they put him on the horse, threw the mantle round him, and gave him the +stick in his hand, and when he had all these things they were no longer +able to see him. So he gave them some vigorous blows and cried, “Now, +vagabonds, you have got what you deserve, are you satisfied?” And he +rode up the glass-mountain, but when he came in front of the castle at +the top, it was shut. Then he struck the door with his stick, and it +sprang open immediately. He went in and ascended the stairs until he +came to the hall where the maiden was sitting with a golden cup full of +wine before her. She, however, could not see him because he had the +mantle on. And when he came up to her, he drew from his finger the ring +which she had given him, and threw it into the cup so that it rang. +Then she cried, “That is my ring, so the man who is to set me free must +be here.” They searched the whole castle and did not find him, but he +had gone out, and had seated himself on the horse and thrown off the +mantle. When they came to the door, they saw him and cried aloud in +their delight.* Then he alighted and took the King’s daughter in his +arms, but she kissed him and said, “Now hast thou set me free, and +to-morrow we will celebrate our wedding.” + + + +94 The Peasant’s Wise Daughter + +There was once a poor peasant who had no land, but only a small house, +and one daughter. Then said the daughter, “We ought to ask our lord the +King for a bit of newly-cleared land.” When the King heard of their +poverty, he presented them with a piece of land, which she and her +father dug up, and intended to sow with a little corn and grain of that +kind. When they had dug nearly the whole of the field, they found in +the earth a mortar made of pure gold. “Listen,” said the father to the +girl, “as our lord the King has been so gracious and presented us with +the field, we ought to give him this mortar in return for it.” The +daughter, however, would not consent to this, and said, “Father, if we +have the mortar without having the pestle as well, we shall have to get +the pestle, so you had much better say nothing about it.” He would, +however, not obey her, but took the mortar and carried it to the King, +said that he had found it in the cleared land, and asked if he would +accept it as a present. The King took the mortar, and asked if he had +found nothing besides that? “No,” answered the countryman. Then the +King said that he must now bring him the pestle. The peasant said they +had not found that, but he might just as well have spoken to the wind; +he was put in prison, and was to stay there until he produced the +pestle. The servants had daily to carry him bread and water, which is +what people get in prison, and they heard how the man cried out +continually, “Ah! if I had but listened to my daughter! Alas, alas, if +I had but listened to my daughter!” and would neither eat nor drink. So +he commanded the servants to bring the prisoner before him, and then +the King asked the peasant why he was always crying, “Ah! if I had but +listened to my daughter!” and what it was that his daughter had said. +“She told me that I ought not to take the mortar to you, for I should +have to produce the pestle as well.” “If you have a daughter who is as +wise as that, let her come here.” She was therefore obliged to appear +before the King, who asked her if she really was so wise, and said he +would set her a riddle, and if she could guess that, he would marry +her. She at once said yes, she would guess it. Then said the King, +“Come to me not clothed, not naked, not riding, not walking, not in the +road, and not out of the road, and if thou canst do that I will marry +thee.” So she went away, put off everything she had on, and then she +was not clothed, and took a great fishing net, and seated herself in it +and wrapped it entirely round and round her, so that she was not naked, +and she hired an ass, and tied the fisherman’s net to its tail, so that +it was forced to drag her along, and that was neither riding nor +walking. The ass had also to drag her in the ruts, so that she only +touched the ground with her great toe, and that was neither being in +the road nor out of the road. And when she arrived in that fashion, the +King said she had guessed the riddle and fulfilled all the conditions. +Then he ordered her father to be released from the prison, took her to +wife, and gave into her care all the royal possessions. + +Now when some years had passed, the King was once drawing up his troops +on parade, when it happened that some peasants who had been selling +wood stopped with their waggons before the palace; some of them had +oxen yoked to them, and some horses. There was one peasant who had +three horses, one of which was delivered of a young foal, and it ran +away and lay down between two oxen which were in front of the waggon. +When the peasants came together, they began to dispute, to beat each +other and make a disturbance, and the peasant with the oxen wanted to +keep the foal, and said one of the oxen had given birth to it, and the +other said his horse had had it, and that it was his. The quarrel came +before the King, and he give the verdict that the foal should stay +where it had been found, and so the peasant with the oxen, to whom it +did not belong, got it. Then the other went away, and wept and lamented +over his foal. Now he had heard how gracious his lady the Queen was +because she herself had sprung from poor peasant folks, so he went to +her and begged her to see if she could not help him to get his foal +back again. Said she, “Yes, I will tell you what to do, if thou wilt +promise me not to betray me. Early to-morrow morning, when the King +parades the guard, place thyself there in the middle of the road by +which he must pass, take a great fishing-net and pretend to be fishing; +go on fishing, too, and empty out the net as if thou hadst got it full” +and then she told him also what he was to say if he was questioned by +the King. The next day, therefore, the peasant stood there, and fished +on dry ground. When the King passed by, and saw that, he sent his +messenger to ask what the stupid man was about? He answered, “I am +fishing.” The messenger asked how he could fish when there was no water +there? The peasant said, “It is as easy for me to fish on dry land as +it is for an ox to have a foal.” The messenger went back and took the +answer to the King, who ordered the peasant to be brought to him and +told him that this was not his own idea, and he wanted to know whose it +was? The peasant must confess this at once. The peasant, however, would +not do so, and said always, God forbid he should! the idea was his own. +They laid him, however, on a heap of straw, and beat him and tormented +him so long that at last he admitted that he had got the idea from the +Queen. + +When the King reached home again, he said to his wife, “Why hast thou +behaved so falsely to me? I will not have thee any longer for a wife; +thy time is up, go back to the place from whence thou camest to thy +peasant’s hut.” One favour, however, he granted her; she might take +with her the one thing that was dearest and best in her eyes; and thus +was she dismissed. She said, “Yes, my dear husband, if you command +this, I will do it,” and she embraced him and kissed him, and said she +would take leave of him. Then she ordered a powerful sleeping draught +to be brought, to drink farewell to him; the King took a long draught, +but she took only a little. He soon fell into a deep sleep, and when +she perceived that, she called a servant and took a fair white linen +cloth and wrapped the King in it, and the servant was forced to carry +him into a carriage that stood before the door, and she drove with him +to her own little house. She laid him in her own little bed, and he +slept one day and one night without awakening, and when he awoke he +looked round and said, “Good God! where am I?” He called his +attendants, but none of them were there. At length his wife came to his +bedside and said, “My dear lord and King, you told me I might bring +away with me from the palace that which was dearest and most precious +in my eyes I have nothing more precious and dear than yourself, so I +have brought you with me.” Tears rose to the King’s eyes and he said, +“Dear wife, thou shalt be mine and I will be thine,” and he took her +back with him to the royal palace and was married again to her, and at +the present time they are very likely still living. + + + +95 Old Hildebrand + +Once upon a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson of the +village had a fancy for the wife, and had wished for a long while to +spend a whole day happily with her. The peasant woman, too, was quite +willing. One day, therefore, he said to the woman, “Listen, my dear +friend, I have now thought of a way by which we can for once spend a +whole day happily together. I’ll tell you what; on Wednesday, you must +take to your bed, and tell your husband you are ill, and if you only +complain and act being ill properly, and go on doing so until Sunday +when I have to preach, I will then say in my sermon that whosoever has +at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father, a +sick mother, a sick brother or whosoever else it may be, and makes a +pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where you can get a peck of +laurel-leaves for a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the sick +wife, the sick father, or sick mother, the sick sister, or whosoever +else it may be, will be restored to health immediately.” + +“I will manage it,” said the woman promptly. Now therefore on the +Wednesday, the peasant woman took to her bed, and complained and +lamented as agreed on, and her husband did everything for her that he +could think of, but nothing did her any good, and when Sunday came the +woman said, “I feel as ill as if I were going to die at once, but there +is one thing I should like to do before my end I should like to hear +the parson’s sermon that he is going to preach to-day.” On that the +peasant said, “Ah, my child, do not do it—thou mightest make thyself +worse if thou wert to get up. Look, I will go to the sermon, and will +attend to it very carefully, and will tell thee everything the parson +says.” + +“Well,” said the woman, “go, then, and pay great attention, and repeat +to me all that thou hearest.” So the peasant went to the sermon, and +the parson began to preach and said, if any one had at home a sick +child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father a sick mother, a sick +sister, brother or any one else, and would make a pilgrimage to the +Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, +the sick child, sick husband, sick wife, sick father, sick mother, sick +sister, brother, or whosoever else it might be, would be restored to +health instantly, and whosoever wished to undertake the journey was to +go to him after the service was over, and he would give him the sack +for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer. + +Then no one was more rejoiced than the peasant, and after the service +was over, he went at once to the parson, who gave him the bag for the +laurel-leaves and the kreuzer. After that he went home, and even at the +house door he cried, “Hurrah! dear wife, it is now almost the same +thing as if thou wert well! The parson has preached to-day that +whosoever had at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick +father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or whoever it might be, +and would make a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck +of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, sick husband, sick +wife, sick father, sick mother, sick sister, brother, or whosoever else +it was, would be cured immediately, and now I have already got the bag +and the kreuzer from the parson, and will at once begin my journey so +that thou mayst get well the faster,” and thereupon he went away. He +was, however, hardly gone before the woman got up, and the parson was +there directly. + +But now we will leave these two for a while, and follow the peasant, +who walked on quickly without stopping, in order to get the sooner to +the Göckerli hill, and on his way he met his gossip. His gossip was an +egg-merchant, and was just coming from the market, where he had sold +his eggs. “May you be blessed,” said the gossip, “where are you off to +so fast?” + +“To all eternity, my friend,” said the peasant, “my wife is ill, and I +have been to-day to hear the parson’s sermon, and he preached that if +any one had in his house a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a +sick father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or any one else, and +made a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of +laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the +sick wife, the sick father, the sick mother, the sick sister, brother +or whosoever else it was, would be cured immediately, and so I have got +the bag for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer from the parson, and now +I am beginning my pilgrimage.” “But listen, gossip,” said the +egg-merchant to the peasant, “are you, then, stupid enough to believe +such a thing as that? Don’t you know what it means? The parson wants to +spend a whole day alone with your wife in peace, so he has given you +this job to do to get you out of the way.” + +“My word!” said the peasant. “How I’d like to know if that’s true!” + +“Come, then,” said the gossip, “I’ll tell you what to do. Get into my +egg-basket and I will carry you home, and then you will see for +yourself.” So that was settled, and the gossip put the peasant into his +egg-basket and carried him home. + +When they got to the house, hurrah! but all was going merry there! The +woman had already had nearly everything killed that was in the +farmyard, and had made pancakes, and the parson was there, and had +brought his fiddle with him. The gossip knocked at the door, and woman +asked who was there. “It is I, gossip,” said the egg-merchant, “give me +shelter this night; I have not sold my eggs at the market, so now I +have to carry them home again, and they are so heavy that I shall never +be able to do it, for it is dark already.” + +“Indeed, my friend,” said the woman, “thou comest at a very +inconvenient time for me, but as thou art here it can’t be helped, come +in, and take a seat there on the bench by the stove.” Then she placed +the gossip and the basket which he carried on his back on the bench by +the stove. The parson, however, and the woman, were as merry as +possible. At length the parson said, “Listen, my dear friend, thou +canst sing beautifully; sing something to me.” “Oh,” said the woman, “I +cannot sing now, in my young days indeed I could sing well enough, but +that’s all over now.” + +“Come,” said the parson once more, “do sing some little song.” + +On that the woman began and sang, + +“I’ve sent my husband away from me +To the Göckerli hill in Italy.” + + +Thereupon the parson sang, + +“I wish ’twas a year before he came back, +I’d never ask him for the laurel-leaf sack.” +Hallelujah. + + +Then the gossip who was in the background began to sing (but I ought to +tell you the peasant was called Hildebrand), so the gossip sang, + +“What art thou doing, my Hildebrand dear, +There on the bench by the stove so near?” +Hallelujah. + + +And then the peasant sang from his basket, + +“All singing I ever shall hate from this day, +And here in this basket no longer I’ll stay.” +Hallelujah. + + +And he got out of the basket, and cudgelled the parson out of the +house. + + + +96 The Three Little Birds + +About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this country nothing +but small kings, and one of them who lived on the Keuterberg was very +fond of hunting. Once on a time when he was riding forth from his +castle with his huntsmen, three girls were watching their cows upon the +mountain, and when they saw the King with all his followers, the eldest +girl pointed to him, and called to the two other girls, “If I do not +get that one, I will have none.” Then the second girl answered from the +other side of the hill, and pointed to the one who was on the King’s +right hand, “Hilloa! hilloa! If I do not get him, I will have no one.” +These, however, were the two ministers. The King heard all this, and +when he had come back from the chase, he caused the three girls to be +brought to him, and asked them what they had said yesterday on the +mountain. This they would not tell him, so the King asked the eldest if +she really would take him for her husband? Then she said, “Yes,” and +the two ministers married the two sisters, for they were all three fair +and beautiful of face, especially the Queen, who had hair like flax. +But the two sisters had no children, and once when the King was obliged +to go from home he invited them to come to the Queen in order to cheer +her, for she was about to bear a child. She had a little boy who +brought a bright red star into the world with him. Then the two sisters +said to each other that they would throw the beautiful boy into the +water. When they had thrown him in (I believe it was into the Weser) a +little bird flew up into the air, which sang, + +“To thy death art thou sped, +Until God’s word be said. +In the white lily bloom, +Brave boy, is thy tomb.” + + +When the two heard that, they were frightened to death, and ran away in +great haste. When the King came home they told him that the Queen had +been delivered of a dog. Then the King said, “What God does, is well +done!” But a fisherman who dwelt near the water fished the little boy +out again while he was still alive, and as his wife had no children, +they reared him. When a year had gone by, the King again went away, and +the Queen had another little boy, whom the false sisters likewise took +and threw into the water. Then up flew a little bird again and sang, + +“To thy death art thou sped, +Until God’s word be said. +In the white lily bloom, +Brave boy, is thy tomb.” + + +And when the King came back, they told him that the Queen had once more +given birth to a dog, and he again said, “What God does, is well done.” +The fisherman, however, fished this one also out of the water, and +reared him. + +Then the King again journeyed forth, and the Queen had a little girl, +whom also the false sisters threw into the water. Then again a little +bird flew up on high and sang, + +“To thy death art thou sped +Until God’s word be said. +In the white lily bloom, +Bonny girl, is thy tomb.” + + +And when the King came home they told him that the Queen had been +delivered of a cat. Then the King grew angry, and ordered his wife to +be cast into prison, and therein was she shut up for many long years. + +In the meantime the children had grown up. Then eldest once went out +with some other boys to fish, but the other boys would not have him +with them, and said, “Go thy way, foundling.” + +Hereupon he was much troubled, and asked the old fisherman if that was +true? The fisherman told him that once when he was fishing he had drawn +him out of the water. So the boy said he would go forth and seek his +father. The fisherman, however, entreated him to stay, but he would not +let himself be hindered, and at last the fisherman consented. Then the +boy went on his way and walked for many days, and at last he came to a +great piece of water by the side of which stood an old woman fishing. +“Good day, mother,” said the boy. + +“Many thanks,” said she. + +“Thou wilt fish long enough before thou catchest anything.” + +“And thou wilt seek long enough before thou findest thy father. How +wilt thou get over the water?” said the woman. + +“God knows.” + +Then the old woman took him up on her back and carried him through it, +and he sought for a long time, but could not find his father. + +When a year had gone by, the second boy set out to seek his brother. He +came to the water, and all fared with him just as with his brother. And +now there was no one at home but the daughter, and she mourned for her +brothers so much that at last she also begged the fisherman to let her +set forth, for she wished to go in search of her brothers. Then she +likewise came to the great piece of water, and she said to the old +woman, “Good day, mother.” + +“Many thanks,” replied the old woman. + +“May God help you with your fishing,” said the maiden. When the old +woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried her over the +water, gave her a wand, and said to her, “Go, my daughter, ever onwards +by this road, and when you come to a great black dog, you must pass it +silently and boldly, without either laughing or looking at it. Then you +will come to a great high castle, on the threshold of which you must +let the wand fall, and go straight through the castle, and out again on +the other side. There you will see an old fountain out of which a large +tree has grown, whereon hangs a bird in a cage which you must take +down. Take likewise a glass of water out of the fountain, and with +these two things go back by the same way. Pick up the wand again from +the threshold and take it with you, and when you again pass by the dog, +strike him in the face with it, but be sure that you hit him, and then +just come back here to me.” The maiden found everything exactly as the +old woman had said, and on her way back she found her two brothers who +had sought each other over half the world. They went together to the +place where the black dog was lying on the road; she struck it in the +face, and it turned into a handsome prince who went with them to the +river. There the old woman was still standing. She rejoiced much to see +them again, and carried them all over the water, and then she too went +away, for now she was freed. The others, however, went to the old +fisherman, and all were glad that they had found each other again, but +they hung the bird on the wall. + +But the second son could not settle at home, and took his cross-bow and +went a-hunting. When he was tired he took his flute, and made music. +The King was hunting too, and heard that and went thither, and when he +met the youth, he said, “Who has given thee leave to hunt here?” + +“Oh, no one.” + +“To whom dost thou belong, then?” + +“I am the fisherman’s son.” + +“But he has no children.” + +“If thou wilt not believe, come with me.” + +That the King did, and questioned the fisherman, who told everything to +him, and the little bird on the wall began to sing, + +“The mother sits alone +There in the prison small, +O King of royal blood, +These are thy children all. +The sisters twain so false, +They wrought the children woe, +There in the waters deep +Where the fishermen come and go.” + + +Then they were all terrified, and the King took the bird, the fisherman +and the three children back with him to the castle, and ordered the +prison to be opened and brought his wife out again. She had, however, +grown quite ill and weak. Then the daughter gave her some of the water +of the fountain to drink, and she became strong and healthy. But the +two false sisters were burnt, and the daughter married the prince. + + + +97 The Water of Life + +There was once a King who had an illness, and no one believed that he +would come out of it with his life. He had three sons who were much +distressed about it, and went down into the palace-garden and wept. +There they met an old man who inquired as to the cause of their grief. +They told him that their father was so ill that he would most certainly +die, for nothing seemed to cure him. Then the old man said, “I know of +one more remedy, and that is the water of life; if he drinks of it he +will become well again; but it is hard to find.” The eldest said, “I +will manage to find it,” and went to the sick King, and begged to be +allowed to go forth in search of the water of life, for that alone +could save him. “No,” said the King, “the danger of it is too great. I +would rather die.” But he begged so long that the King consented. The +prince thought in his heart, “If I bring the water, then I shall be +best beloved of my father, and shall inherit the kingdom.” So he set +out, and when he had ridden forth a little distance, a dwarf stood +there in the road who called to him and said, “Whither away so fast?” +“Silly shrimp,” said the prince, very haughtily, “it is nothing to do +with you,” and rode on. But the little dwarf had grown angry, and had +wished an evil wish. Soon after this the prince entered a ravine, and +the further he rode the closer the mountains drew together, and at last +the road became so narrow that he could not advance a step further; it +was impossible either to turn his horse or to dismount from the saddle, +and he was shut in there as if in prison. The sick King waited long for +him, but he came not. Then the second son said, “Father, let me go +forth to seek the water,” and thought to himself, “If my brother is +dead, then the kingdom will fall to me.” At first the King would not +allow him to go either, but at last he yielded, so the prince set out +on the same road that his brother had taken, and he too met the dwarf, +who stopped him to ask, whither he was going in such haste? “Little +shrimp,” said the prince, “that is nothing to thee,” and rode on +without giving him another look. But the dwarf bewitched him, and he, +like the other, rode into a ravine, and could neither go forwards nor +backwards. So fare haughty people. + +As the second son also remained away, the youngest begged to be allowed +to go forth to fetch the water, and at last the King was obliged to let +him go. When he met the dwarf and the latter asked him whither he was +going in such haste, he stopped, gave him an explanation, and said, “I +am seeking the water of life, for my father is sick unto death.” “Dost +thou know, then, where that is to be found?” “No,” said the prince. “As +thou hast borne thyself as is seemly, and not haughtily like thy false +brothers, I will give thee the information and tell thee how thou mayst +obtain the water of life. It springs from a fountain in the courtyard +of an enchanted castle, but thou wilt not be able to make thy way to +it, if I do not give thee an iron wand and two small loaves of bread. +Strike thrice with the wand on the iron door of the castle and it will +spring open: inside lie two lions with gaping jaws, but if thou +throwest a loaf to each of them, they will be quieted. Then hasten to +fetch some of the water of life before the clock strikes twelve, else +the door will shut again, and thou wilt be imprisoned.” The prince +thanked him, took the wand and the bread, and set out on his way. When +he arrived, everything was as the dwarf had said. The door sprang open +at the third stroke of the wand, and when he had appeased the lions +with the bread, he entered the castle, and came to a large and splendid +hall, wherein sat some enchanted princes whose rings he drew off their +fingers. A sword and a loaf of bread were lying there, which he carried +away. After this, he entered a chamber, in which was a beautiful maiden +who rejoiced when she saw him, kissed him, and told him that he had +delivered her, and should have the whole of her kingdom, and that if he +would return in a year their wedding should be celebrated; likewise she +told him where the spring of the water of life was, and that he was to +hasten and draw some of it before the clock struck twelve. Then he went +onwards, and at last entered a room where there was a beautiful +newly-made bed, and as he was very weary, he felt inclined to rest a +little. So he lay down and fell asleep. When he awoke, it was striking +a quarter to twelve. He sprang up in a fright, ran to the spring, drew +some water in a cup which stood near, and hastened away. But just as he +was passing through the iron door, the clock struck twelve, and the +door fell to with such violence that it carried away a piece of his +heel. He, however, rejoicing at having obtained the water of life, went +homewards, and again passed the dwarf. When the latter saw the sword +and the loaf, he said, “With these thou hast won great wealth; with the +sword thou canst slay whole armies, and the bread will never come to an +end.” But the prince would not go home to his father without his +brothers, and said, “Dear dwarf, canst thou not tell me where my two +brothers are? They went out before I did in search of the water of +life, and have not returned.” “They are imprisoned between two +mountains,” said the dwarf. “I have condemned them to stay there, +because they were so haughty.” Then the prince begged until the dwarf +released them; but he warned him, however, and said, “Beware of them, +for they have bad hearts.” When his brothers came, he rejoiced, and +told them how things had gone with him, that he had found the water of +life and had brought a cupful away with him, and had rescued a +beautiful princess, who was willing to wait a year for him, and then +their wedding was to be celebrated and he would obtain a great kingdom. +After that they rode on together, and chanced upon a land where war and +famine reigned, and the King already thought he must perish, for the +scarcity was so great. Then the prince went to him and gave him the +loaf, wherewith he fed and satisfied the whole of his kingdom, and then +the prince gave him the sword also wherewith he slew the hosts of his +enemies, and could now live in rest and peace. The prince then took +back his loaf and his sword, and the three brothers rode on. But after +this they entered two more countries where war and famine reigned and +each time the prince gave his loaf and his sword to the Kings, and had +now delivered three kingdoms, and after that they went on board a ship +and sailed over the sea. During the passage, the two eldest conversed +apart and said, “The youngest has found the water of life and not we, +for that our father will give him the kingdom the kingdom which belongs +to us, and he will rob us of all our fortune.” They then began to seek +revenge, and plotted with each other to destroy him. They waited until +they found him fast asleep, then they poured the water of life out of +the cup, and took it for themselves, but into the cup they poured salt +sea-water. Now therefore, when they arrived home, the youngest took his +cup to the sick King in order that he might drink out of it, and be +cured. But scarcely had he drunk a very little of the salt sea-water +than he became still worse than before. And as he was lamenting over +this, the two eldest brothers came, and accused the youngest of having +intended to poison him, and said that they had brought him the true +water of life, and handed it to him. He had scarcely tasted it, when he +felt his sickness departing, and became strong and healthy as in the +days of his youth. After that they both went to the youngest, mocked +him, and said, “You certainly found the water of life, but you have had +the pain, and we the gain; you should have been sharper, and should +have kept your eyes open. We took it from you whilst you were asleep at +sea, and when a year is over, one of us will go and fetch the beautiful +princess. But beware that you do not disclose aught of this to our +father; indeed he does not trust you, and if you say a single word, you +shall lose your life into the bargain, but if you keep silent, you +shall have it as a gift.” + +The old King was angry with his youngest son, and thought he had +plotted against his life. So he summoned the court together and had +sentence pronounced upon his son, that he should be secretly shot. And +once when the prince was riding forth to the chase, suspecting no evil, +the King’s huntsman had to go with him, and when they were quite alone +in the forest, the huntsman looked so sorrowful that the prince said to +him, “Dear huntsman, what ails you?” The huntsman said, “I cannot tell +you, and yet I ought.” Then the prince said, “Say openly what it is, I +will pardon you.” “Alas!” said the huntsman, “I am to shoot you dead, +the King has ordered me to do it.” Then the prince was shocked, and +said, “Dear huntsman, let me live; there, I give you my royal garments; +give me your common ones in their stead.” The huntsman said, “I will +willingly do that, indeed I should not have been able to shoot you.” +Then they exchanged clothes, and the huntsman returned home; the +prince, however, went further into the forest. After a time three +waggons of gold and precious stones came to the King for his youngest +son, which were sent by the three Kings who had slain their enemies +with the prince’s sword, and maintained their people with his bread, +and who wished to show their gratitude for it. The old King then +thought, “Can my son have been innocent?” and said to his people, +“Would that he were still alive, how it grieves me that I have suffered +him to be killed!” “He still lives,” said the huntsman, “I could not +find it in my heart to carry out your command,” and told the King how +it had happened. Then a stone fell from the King’s heart, and he had it +proclaimed in every country that his son might return and be taken into +favour again. + +The princess, however, had a road made up to her palace which was quite +bright and golden, and told her people that whosoever came riding +straight along it to her, would be the right wooer and was to be +admitted, and whoever rode by the side of it, was not the right one, +and was not to be admitted. As the time was now close at hand, the +eldest thought he would hasten to go to the King’s daughter, and give +himself out as her deliverer, and thus win her for his bride, and the +kingdom to boot. Therefore he rode forth, and when he arrived in front +of the palace, and saw the splendid golden road, he thought, it would +be a sin and a shame if he were to ride over that, and turned aside, +and rode on the right side of it. But when he came to the door, the +servants told him that he was not the right man, and was to go away +again. Soon after this the second prince set out, and when he came to +the golden road, and his horse had put one foot on it, he thought, it +would be a sin and a shame to tread a piece of it off, and he turned +aside and rode on the left side of it, and when he reached the door, +the attendants told him he was not the right one, and he was to go away +again. When at last the year had entirely expired, the third son +likewise wished to ride out of the forest to his beloved, and with her +forget his sorrows. So he set out and thought of her so incessantly, +and wished to be with her so much, that he never noticed the golden +road at all. So his horse rode onwards up the middle of it, and when he +came to the door, it was opened and the princess received him with joy, +and said he was her deliverer, and lord of the kingdom, and their +wedding was celebrated with great rejoicing. When it was over she told +him that his father invited him to come to him, and had forgiven him. +So he rode thither, and told him everything; how his brothers had +betrayed him, and how he had nevertheless kept silence. The old King +wished to punish them, but they had put to sea, and never came back as +long as they lived. + + + +98 Doctor Knowall + +There was once on a time a poor peasant called Crabb, who drove with +two oxen a load of wood to the town, and sold it to a doctor for two +thalers. When the money was being counted out to him, it so happened +that the doctor was sitting at table, and when the peasant saw how +daintily he ate and drank, his heart desired what he saw, and he would +willingly have been a doctor too. So he remained standing a while, and +at length inquired if he too could not be a doctor. “Oh, yes,” said the +doctor, “that is soon managed.” “What must I do?” asked the peasant. +“In the first place buy thyself an A B C book of the kind which has a +cock on the frontispiece: in the second, turn thy cart and thy two oxen +into money, and get thyself some clothes, and whatsoever else pertains +to medicine; thirdly, have a sign painted for thyself with the words, +“I am Doctor Knowall,” and have that nailed up above thy house-door.” +The peasant did everything that he had been told to do. When he had +doctored people awhile, but not long, a rich and great lord had some +money stolen. Then he was told about Doctor Knowall who lived in such +and such a village, and must know what had become of the money. So the +lord had the horses put in his carriage, drove out to the village, and +asked Crabb if he were Doctor Knowall? Yes, he was, he said. Then he +was to go with him and bring back the stolen money. “Oh, yes, but +Grethe, my wife, must go too.” The lord was willing and let both of +them have a seat in the carriage, and they all drove away together. +When they came to the nobleman’s castle, the table was spread, and +Crabb was told to sit down and eat. “Yes, but my wife, Grethe, too,” +said he, and he seated himself with her at the table. And when the +first servant came with a dish of delicate fare, the peasant nudged his +wife, and said, “Grethe, that was the first,” meaning that was the +servant who brought the first dish. The servant, however, thought he +intended by that to say, “That is the first thief,” and as he actually +was so, he was terrified, and said to his comrade outside, “The doctor +knows all: we shall fare ill, he said I was the first.” The second did +not want to go in at all, but was forced. So when he went in with his +dish, the peasant nudged his wife, and said, “Grethe, that is the +second.” This servant was just as much alarmed, and he got out. The +third did not fare better, for the peasant again said, “Grethe, that is +the third.” The fourth had to carry in a dish that was covered, and the +lord told the doctor that he was to show his skill, and guess what was +beneath the cover. The doctor looked at the dish, had no idea what to +say, and cried, “Ah, poor Crabb.” When the lord heard that, he cried, +“There! he knows it, he knows who has the money!” + +On this the servants looked terribly uneasy, and made a sign to the +doctor that they wished him to step outside for a moment. When +therefore he went out, all four of them confessed to him that they had +stolen the money, and said that they would willingly restore it and +give him a heavy sum into the bargain, if he would not denounce them, +for if he did they would be hanged. They led him to the spot where the +money was concealed. With this the doctor was satisfied, and returned +to the hall, sat down to the table, and said, “My lord, now will I +search in my book where the gold is hidden.” The fifth servant, +however, crept into the stove to hear if the doctor knew still more. +The Doctor, however, sat still and opened his A B C book, turned the +pages backwards and forwards, and looked for the cock. As he could not +find it immediately he said, “I know you are there, so you had better +show yourself.” Then the fellow in the stove thought that the doctor +meant him, and full of terror, sprang out, crying, “That man knows +everything!” Then Dr. Knowall showed the count where the money was, but +did not say who had stolen it, and received from both sides much money +in reward, and became a renowned man. + + + +99 The Spirit in the Bottle + +There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early morning till +late night. When at last he had laid by some money he said to his boy, +“You are my only child, I will spend the money which I have earned with +the sweat of my brow on your education; if you learn some honest trade +you can support me in my old age, when my limbs have grown stiff and I +am obliged to stay at home.” Then the boy went to a High School and +learned diligently so that his masters praised him, and he remained +there a long time. When he had worked through two classes, but was +still not yet perfect in everything, the little pittance which the +father had earned was all spent, and the boy was obliged to return home +to him. “Ah,” said the father, sorrowfully, “I can give you no more, +and in these hard times I cannot earn a farthing more than will suffice +for our daily bread.” “Dear father,” answered the son, “don’t trouble +yourself about it, if it is God’s will, it will turn to my advantage I +shall soon accustom myself to it.” When the father wanted to go into +the forest to earn money by helping to pile and stack wood and also +chop it, the son said, “I will go with you and help you.” “Nay, my +son,” said the father, “that would be hard for you; you are not +accustomed to rough work, and will not be able to bear it, besides I +have only one axe and no money left wherewith to buy another.” “Just go +to the neighbour,” answered the son, “he will lend you his axe until I +have earned one for myself.” The father then borrowed an axe of the +neighbour, and next morning at break of day they went out into the +forest together. The son helped his father and was quite merry and +brisk about it. But when the sun was right over their heads, the father +said, “We will rest, and have our dinner, and then we shall work as +well again.” The son took his bread in his hands, and said, “Just you +rest, father, I am not tired; I will walk up and down a little in the +forest, and look for birds’ nests.” “Oh, you fool,” said the father, +“why should you want to run about there? Afterwards you will be tired, +and no longer able to raise your arm; stay here, and sit down beside +me.” The son, however, went into the forest, ate his bread, was very +merry and peered in among the green branches to see if he could +discover a bird’s nest anywhere. So he went up and down to see if he +could find a bird’s nest until at last he came to a great +dangerous-looking oak, which certainly was already many hundred years +old, and which five men could not have spanned. He stood still and +looked at it, and thought, “Many a bird must have built its nest in +that.” Then all at once it seemed to him that he heard a voice. He +listened and became aware that someone was crying in a very smothered +voice, “Let me out, let me out!” He looked around, but could discover +nothing; nevertheless, he fancied that the voice came out of the +ground. Then he cried, “Where art thou?” The voice answered, “I am down +here amongst the roots of the oak-tree. Let me out! Let me out!” The +scholar began to loosen the earth under the tree, and search among the +roots, until at last he found a glass bottle in a little hollow. He +lifted it up and held it against the light, and then saw a creature +shaped like a frog, springing up and down in it. “Let me out! Let me +out!” it cried anew, and the scholar thinking no evil, drew the cork +out of the bottle. Immediately a spirit ascended from it, and began to +grow, and grew so fast that in a very few moments he stood before the +scholar, a terrible fellow as big as half the tree by which he was +standing. “Knowest thou,” he cried in an awful voice, “what thy wages +are for having let me out?” “No,” replied the scholar fearlessly, “how +should I know that?” “Then I will tell thee,” cried the spirit; “I must +strangle thee for it.” “Thou shouldst have told me that sooner,” said +the scholar, “for I should then have left thee shut up, but my head +shall stand fast for all thou canst do; more persons than one must be +consulted about that.” “More persons here, more persons there,” said +the spirit. “Thou shalt have the wages thou hast earned. Dost thou +think that I was shut up there for such a long time as a favour. No, it +was a punishment for me. I am the mighty Mercurius. Whoso releases me, +him must I strangle.” “Softly,” answered the scholar, “not so fast. I +must first know that thou really wert shut up in that little bottle, +and that thou art the right spirit. If, indeed, thou canst get in +again, I will believe and then thou mayst do as thou wilt with me.” The +spirit said haughtily, “that is a very trifling feat,” drew himself +together, and made himself as small and slender as he had been at +first, so that he crept through the same opening, and right through the +neck of the bottle in again. Scarcely was he within than the scholar +thrust the cork he had drawn back into the bottle, and threw it among +the roots of the oak into its old place, and the spirit was betrayed. + +And now the scolar was about to return to his father, but the spirit +cried very piteously, “Ah, do let me out! ah, do let me out!” “No,” +answered the scholar, “not a second time! He who has once tried to take +my life shall not be set free by me, now that I have caught him again.” +“If thou wilt set me free,” said the spirit, “I will give thee so much +that thou wilt have plenty all the days of thy life.” “No,” answered +the boy, “thou wouldst cheat me as thou didst the first time.” “Thou +art playing away with thy own good luck,” said the spirit; “I will do +thee no harm but will reward thee richly.” The scholar thought, “I will +venture it, perhaps he will keep his word, and anyhow he shall not get +the better of me.” Then he took out the cork, and the spirit rose up +from the bottle as he had done before, stretched himself out and became +as big as a giant. “Now thou shalt have thy reward,” said he, and +handed the scholar a little bag just like a plaster, and said, “If thou +spreadest one end of this over a wound it will heal, and if thou +rubbest steel or iron with the other end it will be changed into +silver.” “I must just try that,” said the scholar, and went to a tree, +tore off the bark with his axe, and rubbed it with one end of the +plaster. It immediately closed together and was healed. “Now, it is all +right,” he said to the spirit, “and we can part.” The spirit thanked +him for his release, and the boy thanked the spirit for his present, +and went back to his father. + +“Where hast thou been racing about?” said the father; “why hast thou +forgotten thy work? I said at once that thou wouldst never get on with +anything.” “Be easy, father, I will make it up.” “Make it up indeed,” +said the father angrily, “there’s no art in that.” “Take care, father, +I will soon hew that tree there, so that it will split.” Then he took +his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and dealt a mighty blow, but as +the iron had changed into silver, the edge turned; “Hollo, father, just +look what a bad axe you’ve given me, it has become quite crooked.” The +father was shocked and said, “Ah, what hast thou done? now I shall have +to pay for that, and have not the wherewithal, and that is all the good +I have got by thy work.” “Don’t get angry,” said the son, “I will soon +pay for the axe.” “Oh, thou blockhead,” cried the father, “wherewith +wilt thou pay for it? Thou hast nothing but what I give thee. These are +students’ tricks that are sticking in thy head, but thou hast no idea +of wood-cutting.” After a while the scholar said, “Father, I can really +work no more, we had better take a holiday.” “Eh, what!” answered he, +“Dost thou think I will sit with my hands lying in my lap like thee? I +must go on working, but thou mayst take thyself off home.” “Father, I +am here in this wood for the first time, I don’t know my way alone. Do +go with me.” As his anger had now abated, the father at last let +himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the son, +“Go and sell thy damaged axe, and see what thou canst get for it, and I +must earn the difference, in order to pay the neighbour.” The son took +the axe, and carried it into town to a goldsmith, who tested it, laid +it in the scales, and said, “It is worth four hundred thalers, I have +not so much as that by me.” The son said, “Give me what thou hast, I +will lend you the rest.” The goldsmith gave him three hundred thalers, +and remained a hundred in his debt. The son thereupon went home and +said, “Father, I have got the money, go and ask the neighbour what he +wants for the axe.” “I know that already,” answered the old man, “one +thaler, six groschen.” “Then give him two thalers, twelve groschen, +that is double and enough; see, I have money in plenty,” and he gave +the father a hundred thalers, and said, “You shall never know want, +live as comfortably as you like.” “Good heavens!” said the father, “how +hast thou come by these riches?” The scholar then told how all had come +to pass, and how he, trusting in his luck, had made such a good hit. +But with the money that was left, he went back to the High School and +went on learning more, and as he could heal all wounds with his +plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world. + + + +100 The Devil’s Sooty Brother + +A disbanded soldier had nothing to live on, and did not know how to get +on. So he went out into the forest and when he had walked for a short +time, he met a little man who was, however, the Devil. The little man +said to him, “What ails you, you seem so very sorrowful?” Then the +soldier said, “I am hungry, but have no money.” The Devil said, “If you +will hire yourself to me, and be my serving-man, you shall have enough +for all your life. You shall serve me for seven years, and after that +you shall again be free. But one thing I must tell you, and that is, +you must not wash, comb, or trim yourself, or cut your hair or nails, +or wipe the water from your eyes.” The soldier said, “All right, if +there is no help for it,” and went off with the little man, who +straightway led him down into hell. Then he told him what he had to do. +He was to poke the fire under the kettles wherein the hell-broth was +stewing, keep the house clean, drive all the sweepings behind the +doors, and see that everything was in order, but if he once peeped into +the kettles, it would go ill with him. The soldier said, “Good, I will +take care.” And then the old Devil went out again on his wanderings, +and the soldier entered upon his new duties, made the fire, and swept +the dirt well behind the doors, just as he had been bidden. When the +old Devil came back again, he looked to see if all had been done, +appeared satisfied, and went forth a second time. The soldier now took +a good look on every side; the kettles were standing all round hell +with a mighty fire below them, and inside they were boiling and +sputtering. He would have given anything to look inside them, if the +Devil had not so particularly forbidden him: at last, he could no +longer restrain himself, slightly raised the lid of the first kettle, +and peeped in, and there he saw his former corporal shut in. “Aha, old +bird!” said he, “Do I meet you here? You once had me in your power, now +I have you,” and he quickly let the lid fall, poked the fire, and added +a fresh log. After that, he went to the second kettle, raised its lid +also a little, and peeped in; his former ensign was in that. “Aha, old +bird, so I find you here! you once had me in your power, now I have +you.” He closed the lid again, and fetched yet another log to make it +really hot. Then he wanted to see who might be sitting up in the third +kettle it was actually be but a general. “Aha, old bird, do I meet you +here? Once you had me in your power, now I have you.” And he fetched +the bellows and made hell-fire blaze right under him. So he did his +work seven years in hell, did not wash, comb, or trim himself, or cut +his hair or nails, or wash the water out of his eyes, and the seven +years seemed so short to him that he thought he had only been half a +year. Now when the time had fully gone by, the Devil came and said, +“Well Hans, what have you done?” “I poked the fire under the kettles, +and I have swept all the dirt well behind the doors.” + +“But you have peeped into the kettles as well; it is lucky for you that +you added fresh logs to them, or else your life would have been +forfeited; now that your time is up, will you go home again?” “Yes,” +said the soldier, “I should very much like to see what my father is +doing at home.” The Devil said, “In order that you may receive the +wages you have earned, go and fill your knapsack full of the sweepings, +and take it home with you. You must also go unwashed and uncombed, with +long hair on your head and beard, and with uncut nails and dim eyes, +and when you are asked whence you come, you must say, “From hell,” and +when you are asked who you are, you are to say, “The Devil’s sooty +brother, and my King as well.” The soldier held his peace, and did as +the Devil bade him, but he was not at all satisfied with his wages. +Then as soon as he was up in the forest again, he took his knapsack +from his back, to empty it, but on opening it, the sweepings had become +pure gold. “I should never have expected that,” said he, and was well +pleased, and entered the town. The landlord was standing in front of +the inn, and when he saw the soldier approaching, he was terrified, +because Hans looked so horrible, worse than a scare-crow. He called to +him and asked, “Whence comest thou?” “From hell.” “Who art thou?” “The +Devil’s sooty brother, and my King as well.” Then the host would not +let him enter, but when Hans showed him the gold, he came and unlatched +the door himself. Hans then ordered the best room and attendance, ate, +and drank his fill, but neither washed nor combed himself as the Devil +had bidden him, and at last lay down to sleep. But the knapsack full of +gold remained before the eyes of the landlord, and left him no peace, +and during the night he crept in and stole it away. Next morning, +however, when Hans got up and wanted to pay the landlord and travel +further, behold his knapsack was gone! But he soon composed himself and +thought, “Thou hast been unfortunate from no fault of thine own,” and +straightway went back again to hell, complained of his misfortune to +the old Devil, and begged for his help. The Devil said, “Seat yourself, +I will wash, comb, and trim you, cut your hair and nails, and wash your +eyes for you,” and when he had done with him, he gave him the knapsack +back again full of sweepings, and said, “Go and tell the landlord that +he must return you your money, or else I will come and fetch him, and +he shall poke the fire in your place.” Hans went up and said to the +landlord, “Thou hast stolen my money; if thou dost not return it, thou +shalt go down to hell in my place, and wilt look as horrible as I.” +Then the landlord gave him the money, and more besides, only begging +him to keep it secret, and Hans was now a rich man. + +He set out on his way home to his father, bought himself a shabby +smock-frock to wear, and strolled about making music, for he had +learned to do that while he was with the Devil in hell. There was +however, an old King in that country, before whom he had to play, and +the King was so delighted with his playing, that he promised him his +eldest daughter in marriage. But when she heard that she was to be +married to a common fellow in a smock-frock, she said, “Rather than do +that, I would go into the deepest water.” Then the King gave him the +youngest, who was quite willing to do it to please her father, and thus +the Devil’s sooty brother got the King’s daughter, and when the aged +King died, the whole kingdom likewise. + + + +101 Bearskin + +There was once a young fellow who enlisted as a soldier, conducted +himself bravely, and was always the foremost when it rained bullets. So +long as the war lasted, all went well, but when peace was made, he +received his dismissal, and the captain said he might go where he +liked. His parents were dead, and he had no longer a home, so he went +to his brothers and begged them to take him in, and keep him until war +broke out again. The brothers, however, were hard-hearted and said, +“What can we do with thee? thou art of no use to us; go and make a +living for thyself.” The soldier had nothing left but his gun; he took +that on his shoulder, and went forth into the world. He came to a wide +heath, on which nothing was to be seen but a circle of trees; under +these he sat sorrowfully down, and began to think over his fate. “I +have no money,” thought he, “I have learnt no trade but that of +fighting, and now that they have made peace they don’t want me any +longer; so I see beforehand that I shall have to starve.” All at once +he heard a rustling, and when he looked round, a strange man stood +before him, who wore a green coat and looked right stately, but had a +hideous cloven foot. “I know already what thou art in need of,” said +the man; “gold and possessions shall thou have, as much as thou canst +make away with do what thou wilt, but first I must know if thou art +fearless, that I may not bestow my money in vain.” “A soldier and +fear—how can those two things go together?” he answered; “thou canst +put me to the proof.” “Very well, then,” answered the man, “look behind +thee.” The soldier turned round, and saw a large bear, which came +growling towards him. “Oho!” cried the soldier, “I will tickle thy nose +for thee, so that thou shalt soon lose thy fancy for growling,” and he +aimed at the bear and shot it through the muzzle; it fell down and +never stirred again. “I see quite well,” said the stranger, “that thou +art not wanting in courage, but there is still another condition which +thou wilt have to fulfil.” “If it does not endanger my salvation,” +replied the soldier, who knew very well who was standing by him. “If it +does, I’ll have nothing to do with it.” “Thou wilt look to that for +thyself,” answered Greencoat; “thou shalt for the next seven years +neither wash thyself, nor comb thy beard, nor thy hair, nor cut thy +nails, nor say one paternoster. I will give thee a coat and a cloak, +which during this time thou must wear. If thou diest during these seven +years, thou art mine; if thou remainest alive, thou art free, and rich +to boot, for all the rest of thy life.” The soldier thought of the +great extremity in which he now found himself, and as he so often had +gone to meet death, he resolved to risk it now also, and agreed to the +terms. The Devil took off his green coat, gave it to the soldier, and +said, “If thou hast this coat on thy back and puttest thy hand into the +pocket, thou wilt always find it full of money.” Then he pulled the +skin off the bear and said, “This shall be thy cloak, and thy bed also, +for thereon shalt thou sleep, and in no other bed shalt thou lie, and +because of this apparel shalt thou be called Bearskin.” After this the +Devil vanished. + +The soldier put the coat on, felt at once in the pocket, and found that +the thing was really true. Then he put on the bearskin and went forth +into the world, and enjoyed himself, refraining from nothing that did +him good and his money harm. During the first year his appearance was +passable, but during the second he began to look like a monster. His +hair covered nearly the whole of his face, his beard was like a piece +of coarse felt, his fingers had claws, and his face was so covered with +dirt that if cress had been sown on it, it would have come up. +Whosoever saw him, ran away, but as he everywhere gave the poor money +to pray that he might not die during the seven years, and as he paid +well for everything he still always found shelter. In the fourth year, +he entered an inn where the landlord would not receive him, and would +not even let him have a place in the stable, because he was afraid the +horses would be scared. But as Bearskin thrust his hand into his pocket +and pulled out a handful of ducats, the host let himself be persuaded +and gave him a room in an outhouse. Bearskin was, however, obliged to +promise not to let himself be seen, lest the inn should get a bad name. + +As Bearskin was sitting alone in the evening, and wishing from the +bottom of his heart that the seven years were over, he heard a loud +lamenting in a neighboring room. He had a compassionate heart, so he +opened the door, and saw an old man weeping bitterly, and wringing his +hands. Bearskin went nearer, but the man sprang to his feet and tried +to escape from him. At last when the man perceived that Bearskin’s +voice was human he let himself be prevailed on, and by kind words +bearskin succeeded so far that the old man revealed the cause of his +grief. His property had dwindled away by degrees, he and his daughters +would have to starve, and he was so poor that he could not pay the +innkeeper, and was to be put in prison. “If that is your only trouble,” +said Bearskin, “I have plenty of money.” He caused the innkeeper to be +brought thither, paid him and put a purse full of gold into the poor +old man’s pocket besides. + +When the old man saw himself set free from all his troubles he did not +know how to be grateful enough. “Come with me,” said he to Bearskin; +“my daughters are all miracles of beauty, choose one of them for +thyself as a wife. When she hears what thou hast done for me, she will +not refuse thee. Thou dost in truth look a little strange, but she will +soon put thee to rights again.” This pleased Bearskin well, and he +went. When the eldest saw him she was so terribly alarmed at his face +that she screamed and ran away. The second stood still and looked at +him from head to foot, but then she said, “How can I accept a husband +who no longer has a human form? The shaven bear that once was here and +passed itself off for a man pleased me far better, for at any rate it +wore a hussar’s dress and white gloves. If it were nothing but +ugliness, I might get used to that.” The youngest, however, said, “Dear +father, that must be a good man to have helped you out of your trouble, +so if you have promised him a bride for doing it, your promise must be +kept.” It was a pity that Bearskin’s face was covered with dirt and +with hair, for if not they might have seen how delighted he was when he +heard these words. He took a ring from his finger, broke it in two, and +gave her one half, the other he kept for himself. He wrote his name, +however, on her half, and hers on his, and begged her to keep her piece +carefully, and then he took his leave and said, “I must still wander +about for three years, and if I do not return then, thou art free, for +I shall be dead. But pray to God to preserve my life.” + +The poor betrothed bride dressed herself entirely in black, and when +she thought of her future bridegroom, tears came into her eyes. Nothing +but contempt and mockery fell to her lot from her sisters. “Take care,” +said the eldest, “if thou givest him thy hand, he will strike his claws +into it.” “Beware!” said the second. “Bears like sweet things, and if +he takes a fancy to thee, he will eat thee up.” “Thou must always do as +he likes,” began the elder again, “or else he will growl.” And the +second continued, “But the wedding will be a merry one, for bears dance +well.” The bride was silent, and did not let them vex her. Bearskin, +however, travelled about the world from one place to another, did good +where he was able, and gave generously to the poor that they might pray +for him. + +At length, as the last day of the seven years dawned, he went once more +out on to the heath, and seated himself beneath the circle of trees. It +was not long before the wind whistled, and the Devil stood before him +and looked angrily at him; then he threw Bearskin his old coat, and +asked for his own green one back. “We have not got so far as that yet,” +answered Bearskin, “thou must first make me clean.” Whether the Devil +liked it or not, he was forced to fetch water, and wash Bearskin, comb +his hair, and cut his nails. After this, he looked like a brave +soldier, and was much handsomer than he had ever been before. + +When the Devil had gone away, Bearskin was quite lighthearted. He went +into the town, put on a magnificent velvet coat, seated himself in a +carriage drawn by four white horses, and drove to his bride’s house. No +one recognized him, the father took him for a distinguished general, +and led him into the room where his daughters were sitting. He was +forced to place himself between the two eldest, they helped him to +wine, gave him the best pieces of meat, and thought that in all the +world they had never seen a handsomer man. The bride, however, sat +opposite to him in her black dress, and never raised her eyes, nor +spoke a word. When at length he asked the father if he would give him +one of his daughters to wife, the two eldest jumped up, ran into their +bedrooms to put on splendid dresses, for each of them fancied she was +the chosen one. The stranger, as soon as he was alone with his bride, +brought out his half of the ring, and threw it in a glass of wine which +he reached across the table to her. She took the wine, but when she had +drunk it, and found the half ring lying at the bottom, her heart began +to beat. She got the other half, which she wore on a ribbon round her +neck, joined them, and saw that the two pieces fitted exactly together. +Then said he, “I am thy betrothed bridegroom, whom thou sawest as +Bearskin, but through God’s grace I have again received my human form, +and have once more become clean.” He went up to her, embraced her, and +gave her a kiss. In the meantime the two sisters came back in full +dress, and when they saw that the handsome man had fallen to the share +of the youngest, and heard that he was Bearskin, they ran out full of +anger and rage. One of them drowned herself in the well, the other +hanged herself on a tree. In the evening, some one knocked at the door, +and when the bridegroom opened it, it was the Devil in his green coat, +who said, “Seest thou, I have now got two souls in the place of thy +one!” + + + +102 The Willow-Wren and the Bear + +Once in summer-time the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest, +and the bear heard a bird singing so beautifully that he said, “Brother +wolf, what bird is it that sings so well?” “That is the King of birds,” +said the wolf, “before whom we must bow down.” It was, however, in +reality the willow-wren (Zaunkönig). “If that’s the case,” said the +bear, “I should very much like to see his royal palace; come, take me +thither.” “That is not done quite as you seem to think,” said the wolf; +“you must wait until the Queen comes.” Soon afterwards, the Queen +arrived with some food in her beak, and the lord King came too, and +they began to feed their young ones. The bear would have liked to go at +once, but the wolf held him back by the sleeve, and said, “No, you must +wait until the lord and lady Queen have gone away again.” So they +observed the hole in which was the nest, and trotted away. The bear, +however, could not rest until he had seen the royal palace, and when a +short time had passed, again went to it. The King and Queen had just +flown out, so he peeped in and saw five or six young ones lying in it. +“Is that the royal palace?” cried the bear; “it is a wretched palace, +and you are not King’s children, you are disreputable children!” When +the young wrens heard that, they were frightfully angry, and screamed, +“No, that we are not! Our parents are honest people! Bear, thou wilt +have to pay for that!” + +The bear and the wolf grew uneasy, and turned back and went into their +holes. The young willow-wrens, however, continued to cry and scream, +and when their parents again brought food they said, “We will not so +much as touch one fly’s leg, no, not if we were dying of hunger, until +you have settled whether we are respectable children or not; the bear +has been here and has insulted us!” Then the old King said, “Be easy, +he shall be punished,” and he at once flew with the Queen to the bear’s +cave, and called in, “Old Growler, why hast thou insulted my children? +Thou shalt suffer for it we will punish thee by a bloody war.” Thus war +was announced to the Bear, and all four-footed animals were summoned to +take part in it, oxen, asses, cows, deer, and every other animal the +earth contained. And the willow-wren summoned everything which flew in +the air, not only birds, large and small, but midges, and hornets, bees +and flies had to come. + +When the time came for the war to begin, the willow-wren sent out spies +to discover who was the enemy’s commander-in-chief. The gnat, who was +the most crafty, flew into the forest where the enemy was assembled, +and hid herself beneath a leaf of the tree where the watchword was to +be given. There stood the bear, and he called the fox before him and +said, “Fox, thou art the most cunning of all animals, thou shalt be +general and lead us.” “Good,” said the fox, “but what signal shall we +agree upon?” No one knew that, so the fox said, “I have a fine long +bushy tail, which almost looks like a plume of red feathers. When I +lift my tail up quite high, all is going well, and you must charge; but +if I let it hang down, run away as fast as you can.” When the gnat had +heard that, she flew away again, and revealed everything, with the +greatest minuteness, to the willow-wren. When day broke, and the battle +was to begin, all the four-footed animals came running up with such a +noise that the earth trembled. The willow-wren also came flying through +the air with his army with such a humming, and whirring, and swarming +that every one was uneasy and afraid, and on both sides they advanced +against each other. But the willow-wren sent down the hornet, with +orders to get beneath the fox’s tail, and sting with all his might. +When the fox felt the first sting, he started so that he drew up one +leg, with the pain, but he bore it, and still kept his tail high in the +air; at the second sting, he was forced to put it down for a moment; at +the third, he could hold out no longer, and screamed out and put his +tail between his legs. When the animals saw that, they thought all was +lost, and began to fly, each into his hole and the birds had won the +battle. + +Then the King and Queen flew home to their children and cried, +“Children, rejoice, eat and drink to your heart’s content, we have won +the battle!” But the young wrens said, “We will not eat yet, the bear +must come to the nest, and beg for pardon and say that we are honorable +children, before we will do that.” Then the willow-wren flew to the +bear’s hole and cried, “Growler, thou art to come to the nest to my +children, and beg their pardon, or else every rib of thy body shall be +broken.” So the bear crept thither in the greatest fear, and begged +their pardon. And now at last the young wrens were satisfied, and sat +down together and ate and drank, and made merry till quite late into +the night. + + + +103 Sweet Porridge + +There was a poor but good little girl who lived alone with her mother, +and they no longer had anything to eat. So the child went into the +forest, and there an aged woman met her who was aware of her sorrow, +and presented her with a little pot, which when she said, “Cook, little +pot, cook,” would cook good, sweet porridge, and when she said, “Stop, +little pot,” it ceased to cook. The girl took the pot home to her +mother, and now they were freed from their poverty and hunger, and ate +sweet porridge as often as they chose. Once on a time when the girl had +gone out, her mother said, “Cook, little pot, cook.” And it did cook +and she ate till she was satisfied, and then she wanted the pot to stop +cooking, but did not know the word. So it went on cooking and the +porridge rose over the edge, and still it cooked on until the kitchen +and whole house were full, and then the next house, and then the whole +street, just as if it wanted to satisfy the hunger of the whole world, +and there was the greatest distress, but no one knew how to stop it. At +last when only one single house remained, the child came home and just +said, “Stop, little pot,” and it stopped and gave up cooking, and +whosoever wished to return to the town had to eat his way back. + + + +104 Wise Folks + +One day a peasant took his good hazel-stick out of the corner and said +to his wife, “Trina, I am going across country, and shall not return +for three days. If during that time the cattle-dealer should happen to +call and want to buy our three cows, you may strike a bargain at once, +but not unless you can get two hundred thalers for them; nothing less, +do you hear?” “For heaven’s sake just go in peace,” answered the woman, +“I will manage that.” “You, indeed,” said the man. “You once fell on +your head when you were a little child, and that affects you even now; +but let me tell you this, if you do anything foolish, I will make your +back black and blue, and not with paint, I assure you, but with the +stick which I have in my hand, and the colouring shall last a whole +year, you may rely on that.” And having said that, the man went on his +way. + +Next morning the cattle-dealer came, and the woman had no need to say +many words to him. When he had seen the cows and heard the price, he +said, “I am quite willing to give that, honestly speaking, they are +worth it. I will take the beasts away with me at once.” He unfastened +their chains and drove them out of the byre, but just as he was going +out of the yard-door, the woman clutched him by the sleeve and said, +“You must give me the two hundred thalers now, or I cannot let the cows +go.” “True,” answered the man, “but I have forgotten to buckle on my +money-belt. Have no fear, however, you shall have security for my +paying. I will take two cows with me and leave one, and then you will +have a good pledge.” The woman saw the force of this, and let the man +go away with the cows, and thought to herself, “How pleased Hans will +be when he finds how cleverly I have managed it!” The peasant came home +on the third day as he had said he would, and at once inquired if the +cows were sold? “Yes, indeed, dear Hans,” answered the woman, “and as +you said, for two hundred thalers. They are scarcely worth so much, but +the man took them without making any objection.” “Where is the money?” +asked the peasant. “Oh, I have not got the money,” replied the woman; +“he had happened to forget his money-belt, but he will soon bring it, +and he left good security behind him.” “What kind of security?” asked +the man. “One of the three cows, which he shall not have until he has +paid for the other two. I have managed very cunningly, for I have kept +the smallest, which eats the least.” The man was enraged and lifted up +his stick, and was just going to give her the beating he had promised +her. Suddenly he let the stick fail and said, “You are the stupidest +goose that ever waddled on God’s earth, but I am sorry for you. I will +go out into the highways and wait for three days to see if I find +anyone who is still stupider than you. If I succeed in doing so, you +shall go scot-free, but if I do not find him, you shall receive your +well-deserved reward without any discount.” + +He went out into the great highways, sat down on a stone, and waited +for what would happen. Then he saw a peasant’s waggon coming towards +him, and a woman was standing upright in the middle of it, instead of +sitting on the bundle of straw which was lying beside her, or walking +near the oxen and leading them. The man thought to himself, “That is +certainly one of the kind I am in search of,” and jumped up and ran +backwards and forwards in front of the waggon like one who is not very +wise. “What do you want, my friend?” said the woman to him; “I don’t +know you, where do you come from?” “I have fallen down from heaven,” +replied the man, “and don’t know how to get back again, couldn’t you +drive me up?” “No,” said the woman, “I don’t know the way, but if you +come from heaven you can surely tell me how my husband, who has been +there these three years is. You must have seen him?” “Oh, yes, I have +seen him, but all men can’t get on well. He keeps sheep, and the sheep +give him a great deal to do. They run up the mountains and lose their +way in the wilderness, and he has to run after them and drive them +together again. His clothes are all torn to pieces too, and will soon +fall off his body. There is no tailor there, for Saint Peter won’t let +any of them in, as you know by the story.” “Who would have thought it?” +cried the woman, “I tell you what, I will fetch his Sunday coat which +is still hanging at home in the cupboard, he can wear that and look +respectable. You will be so kind as to take it with you.” “That won’t +do very well,” answered the peasant; “people are not allowed to take +clothes into Heaven, they are taken away from one at the gate.” “Then +hark you,” said the woman, “I sold my fine wheat yesterday and got a +good lot of money for it, I will send that to him. If you hide the +purse in your pocket, no one will know that you have it.” “If you can’t +manage it any other way,” said the peasant, “I will do you that favor.” +“Just sit still where you are,” said she, “and I will drive home and +fetch the purse, I shall soon be back again. I do not sit down on the +bundle of straw, but stand up in the waggon, because it makes it +lighter for the cattle.” She drove her oxen away, and the peasant +thought, “That woman has a perfect talent for folly, if she really +brings the money, my wife may think herself fortunate, for she will get +no beating.” It was not long before she came in a great hurry with the +money, and with her own hands put it in his pocket. Before she went +away, she thanked him again a thousand times for his courtesy. + +When the woman got home again, she found her son who had come in from +the field. She told him what unlooked-for things had befallen her, and +then added, “I am truly delighted at having found an opportunity of +sending something to my poor husband. Who would ever have imagined that +he could be suffering for want of anything up in heaven?” The son was +full of astonishment. “Mother,” said he, “it is not every day that a +man comes from Heaven in this way, I will go out immediately, and see +if he is still to be found; he must tell me what it is like up there, +and how the work is done.” He saddled the horse and rode off with all +speed. He found the peasant who was sitting under a willow-tree, and +was just going to count the money in the purse. “Have you seen the man +who has fallen down from Heaven?” cried the youth to him. “Yes,” +answered the peasant, “he has set out on his way back there, and has +gone up that hill, from whence it will be rather nearer; you could +still catch him up, if you were to ride fast.” “Alas,” said the youth, +“I have been doing tiring work all day, and the ride here has +completely worn me out; you know the man, be so kind as to get on my +horse, and go and persuade him to come here.” “Aha!” thought the +peasant, “here is another who has no wick in his lamp!” “Why should I +not do you this favor?” said he, and mounted the horse and rode off in +a quick trot. The youth remained sitting there till night fell, but the +peasant never came back. “The man from Heaven must certainly have been +in a great hurry, and would not turn back,” thought he, “and the +peasant has no doubt given him the horse to take to my father.” He went +home and told his mother what had happened, and that he had sent his +father the horse so that he might not have to be always running about. +“Thou hast done well,” answered she, “thy legs are younger than his, +and thou canst go on foot.” + +When the peasant got home, he put the horse in the stable beside the +cow which he had as a pledge, and then went to his wife and said, +“Trina, as your luck would have it, I have found two who are still +sillier fools than you; this time you escape without a beating, I will +store it up for another occasion.” Then he lighted his pipe, sat down +in his grandfather’s chair, and said, “It was a good stroke of business +to get a sleek horse and a great purse full of money into the bargain, +for two lean cows. If stupidity always brought in as much as that, I +would be quite willing to hold it in honor.” So thought the peasant, +but you no doubt prefer the simple folks. + + + +105 Stories about Snakes + +First Story. + +There was once a little child whose mother gave her every afternoon a +small bowl of milk and bread, and the child seated herself in the yard +with it. When she began to eat however, a snake came creeping out of a +crevice in the wall, dipped its little head in the dish, and ate with +her. The child had pleasure in this, and when she was sitting there +with her little dish and the snake did not come at once, she cried, + +“Snake, snake, come swiftly +Hither come, thou tiny thing, +Thou shalt have thy crumbs of bread, +Thou shalt refresh thyself with milk.” + + +Then the snake came in haste, and enjoyed its food. Moreover it showed +gratitude, for it brought the child all kinds of pretty things from its +hidden treasures, bright stones, pearls, and golden playthings. The +snake, however, only drank the milk, and left the bread-crumbs alone. +Then one day the child took its little spoon and struck the snake +gently on its head with it, and said, “Eat the bread-crumbs as well, +little thing.” The mother, who was standing in the kitchen, heard the +child talking to someone, and when she saw that she was striking a +snake with her spoon, ran out with a log of wood, and killed the good +little creature. + +From that time forth, a change came over the child. As long as the +snake had eaten with her, she had grown tall and strong, but now she +lost her pretty rosy cheeks and wasted away. It was not long before the +funeral bird began to cry in the night, and the redbreast to collect +little branches and leaves for a funeral garland, and soon afterwards +the child lay on her bier. + +Second Story. + + +An orphan child was sitting on the town walls spinning, when she saw a +snake coming out of a hole low down in the wall. Swiftly she spread out +beside this one of the blue silk handkerchiefs which snakes have such a +strong liking for, and which are the only things they will creep on. As +soon as the snake saw it, it went back, then returned, bringing with it +a small golden crown, laid it on the handkerchief, and then went away +again. The girl took up the crown, it glittered and was of delicate +golden filagree work. It was not long before the snake came back for +the second time, but when it no longer saw the crown, it crept up to +the wall, and in its grief smote its little head against it as long as +it had strength to do so, until at last it lay there dead. If the girl +had but left the crown where it was, the snake would certainly have +brought still more of its treasures out of the hole. + +Third Story. + + +A snake cries, “Huhu, huhu.” A child says, “Come out.” The snake comes +out, then the child inquires about her little sister: “Hast thou not +seen little Red-stockings?” The snake says, “No.” “Neither have I.” +“Then I am like you. Huhu, huhu, huhu.” + + + +106 The Poor Miller’s Boy and the Cat + +In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child, +and three apprentices served under him. As they had been with him +several years, he one day said to them, “I am old, and want to sit in +the chimney-corner, go out, and whichsoever of you brings me the best +horse home, to him will I give the mill, and in return for it he shall +take care of me till my death.” The third of the boys was, however, the +drudge, who was looked on as foolish by the others; they begrudged the +mill to him, and afterwards he would not have it. Then all three went +out together, and when they came to the village, the two said to stupid +Hans, “Thou mayst just as well stay here, as long as thou livest thou +wilt never get a horse.” Hans, however, went with them, and when it was +night they came to a cave in which they lay down to sleep. The two +sharp ones waited until Hans had fallen asleep, then they got up, and +went away leaving him where he was. And they thought they had done a +very clever thing, but it was certain to turn out ill for them. When +the sun arose, and Hans woke up, he was lying in a deep cavern. He +looked around on every side and exclaimed, “Oh, heavens, where am I?” +Then he got up and clambered out of the cave, went into the forest, and +thought, “Here I am quite alone and deserted, how shall I obtain a +horse now?” Whilst he was thus walking full of thought, he met a small +tabby-cat which said quite kindly, “Hans, where are you going?” “Alas, +thou canst not help me.” “I well know your desire,” said the cat. “You +wish to have a beautiful horse. Come with me, and be my faithful +servant for seven years long, and then I will give you one more +beautiful than any you have ever seen in your whole life.” “Well, this +is a wonderful cat!” thought Hans, “but I am determined to see if she +is telling the truth.” So she took him with her into her enchanted +castle, where there were nothing but cats who were her servants. They +leapt nimbly upstairs and downstairs, and were merry and happy. In the +evening when they sat down to dinner, three of them had to make music. +One played the bassoon, the other the fiddle, and the third put the +trumpet to his lips, and blew out his cheeks as much as he possibly +could. When they had dined, the table was carried away, and the cat +said, “Now, Hans, come and dance with me.” “No,” said he, “I won’t +dance with a pussy cat. I have never done that yet.” “Then take him to +bed,” said she to the cats. So one of them lighted him to his bed-room, +one pulled his shoes off, one his stockings, and at last one of them +blew out the candle. Next morning they returned and helped him out of +bed, one put his stockings on for him, one tied his garters, one +brought his shoes, one washed him, and one dried his face with her +tail. “That feels very soft!” said Hans. He, however, had to serve the +cat, and chop some wood every day, and to do that, he had an axe of +silver, and the wedge and saw were of silver and the mallet of copper. +So he chopped the wood small; stayed there in the house and had good +meat and drink, but never saw anyone but the tabby-cat and her +servants. Once she said to him, “Go and mow my meadow, and dry the +grass,” and gave him a scythe of silver, and a whetstone of gold, but +bade him deliver them up again carefully. So Hans went thither, and did +what he was bidden, and when he had finished the work, he carried the +scythe, whetstone, and hay to the house, and asked if it was not yet +time for her to give him his reward. “No,” said the cat, “you must +first do something more for me of the same kind. There is timber of +silver, carpenter’s axe, square, and everything that is needful, all of +silver, with these build me a small house.” Then Hans built the small +house, and said that he had now done everything, and still he had no +horse. Nevertheless the seven years had gone by with him as if they +were six months. The cat asked him if he would like to see her horses? +“Yes,” said Hans. Then she opened the door of the small house, and when +she had opened it, there stood twelve horses, such horses, so bright +and shining, that his heart rejoiced at the sight of them. And now she +gave him to eat and drink, and said, “Go home, I will not give thee thy +horse away with thee; but in three days’ time I will follow thee and +bring it.” So Hans set out, and she showed him the way to the mill. She +had, however, never once given him a new coat, and he had been obliged +to keep on his dirty old smock-frock, which he had brought with him, +and which during the seven years had everywhere become too small for +him. When he reached home, the two other apprentices were there again +as well, and each of them certainly had brought a horse with him, but +one of them was a blind one, and the other lame. They asked Hans where +his horse was. “It will follow me in three days’ time.” Then they +laughed and said, “Indeed, stupid Hans, where wilt thou get a horse?” +“It will be a fine one!” Hans went into the parlour, but the miller +said he should not sit down to table, for he was so ragged and torn, +that they would all be ashamed of him if any one came in. So they gave +him a mouthful of food outside, and at night, when they went to rest, +the two others would not let him have a bed, and at last he was forced +to creep into the goose-house, and lie down on a little hard straw. In +the morning when he awoke, the three days had passed, and a coach came +with six horses and they shone so bright that it was delightful to see +them! and a servant brought a seventh as well, which was for the poor +miller’s boy. And a magnificent princess alighted from the coach and +went into the mill, and this princess was the little tabby-cat whom +poor Hans had served for seven years. She asked the miller where the +miller’s boy and drudge was? Then the miller said, “We cannot have him +here in the mill, for he is so ragged; he is lying in the goose-house.” +Then the King’s daughter said that they were to bring him immediately. +So they brought him out, and he had to hold his little smock-frock +together to cover himself. The servants unpacked splendid garments, and +washed him and dressed him, and when that was done, no King could have +looked more handsome. Then the maiden desired to see the horses which +the other apprentices had brought home with them, and one of them was +blind and the other lame. So she ordered the servant to bring the +seventh horse, and when the miller saw it, he said that such a horse as +that had never yet entered his yard. “And that is for the third +miller’s boy,” said she. “Then he must have the mill,” said the miller, +but the King’s daughter said that the horse was there, and that he was +to keep his mill as well, and took her faithful Hans and set him in the +coach, and drove away with him. They first drove to the little house +which he had built with the silver tools, and behold it was a great +castle, and everything inside it was of silver and gold; and then she +married him, and he was rich, so rich that he had enough for all the +rest of his life. After this, let no one ever say that anyone who is +silly can never become a person of importance. + + + +107 The Two Travellers + +Hill and vale do not come together, but the children of men do, good +and bad. In this way a shoemaker and a tailor once met with each other +in their travels. The tailor was a handsome little fellow who was +always merry and full of enjoyment. He saw the shoemaker coming towards +him from the other side, and as he observed by his bag what kind of a +trade he plied, he sang a little mocking song to him, + +“Sew me the seam, +Draw me the thread, +Spread it over with pitch, +Knock the nail on the head.” + + +The shoemaker, however, could not endure a joke; he pulled a face as if +he had drunk vinegar, and made a gesture as if he were about to seize +the tailor by the throat. But the little fellow began to laugh, reached +him his bottle, and said, “No harm was meant, take a drink, and swallow +your anger down.” The shoemaker took a very hearty drink, and the storm +on his face began to clear away. He gave the bottle back to the tailor, +and said, “I spoke civilly to you; one speaks well after much drinking, +but not after much thirst. Shall we travel together?” “All right,” +answered the tailor, “if only it suits you to go into a big town where +there is no lack of work.” “That is just where I want to go,” answered +the shoemaker. “In a small nest there is nothing to earn, and in the +country, people like to go barefoot.” They travelled therefore onwards +together, and always set one foot before the other like a weasel in the +snow. + +Both of them had time enough, but little to bite and to break. When +they reached a town they went about and paid their respects to the +tradesmen, and because the tailor looked so lively and merry, and had +such pretty red cheeks, every one gave him work willingly, and when +luck was good the master’s daughters gave him a kiss beneath the porch, +as well. When he again fell in with the shoemaker, the tailor had +always the most in his bundle. The ill-tempered shoemaker made a wry +face, and thought, “The greater the rascal the more the luck,” but the +tailor began to laugh and to sing, and shared all he got with his +comrade. If a couple of pence jingled in his pockets, he ordered good +cheer, and thumped the table in his joy till the glasses danced, and it +was lightly come, lightly go, with him. + +When they had travelled for some time, they came to a great forest +through which passed the road to the capital. Two foot-paths, however, +led through it, one of which was a seven days’ journey, and the other +only two, but neither of the travellers knew which way was the short +one. They seated themselves beneath an oak-tree, and took counsel +together how they should forecast, and for how many days they should +provide themselves with bread. The shoemaker said, “One must look +before one leaps, I will take with me bread for a week.” “What!” said +the tailor, “drag bread for seven days on one’s back like a beast of +burden, and not be able to look about. I shall trust in God, and not +trouble myself about anything! The money I have in my pocket is as good +in summer as in winter, but in hot weather bread gets dry, and mouldy +into the bargain; even my coat does not go as far as it might. Besides, +why should we not find the right way? Bread for two days, and that’s +enough.” Each, therefore, bought his own bread, and then they tried +their luck in the forest. + +It was as quiet there as in a church. No wind stirred, no brook +murmured, no bird sang, and through the thickly-leaved branches no +sunbeam forced its way. The shoemaker spoke never a word, the heavy +bread weighed down his back until the perspiration streamed down his +cross and gloomy face. The tailor, however, was quite merry, he jumped +about, whistled on a leaf, or sang a song, and thought to himself, “God +in heaven must be pleased to see me so happy.” + +This lasted two days, but on the third the forest would not come to an +end, and the tailor had eaten up all his bread, so after all his heart +sank down a yard deeper. In the meantime he did not lose courage, but +relied on God and on his luck. On the third day he lay down in the +evening hungry under a tree, and rose again next morning hungry still; +so also passed the fourth day, and when the shoemaker seated himself on +a fallen tree and devoured his dinner, the tailor was only a looker-on. +If he begged for a little piece of bread the other laughed mockingly, +and said, “Thou hast always been so merry, now thou canst try for once +what it is to be sad: the birds which sing too early in the morning are +struck by the hawk in the evening,” In short he was pitiless. But on +the fifth morning the poor tailor could no longer stand up, and was +hardly able to utter one word for weakness; his cheeks were white, and +his eyes red. Then the shoemaker said to him, “I will give thee a bit +of bread to-day, but in return for it, I will put out thy right eye.” +The unhappy tailor who still wished to save his life, could not do it +in any other way; he wept once more with both eyes, and then held them +out, and the shoemaker, who had a heart of stone, put out his right eye +with a sharp knife. The tailor called to remembrance what his mother +had formerly said to him when he had been eating secretly in the +pantry. “Eat what one can, and suffer what one must.” When he had +consumed his dearly-bought bread, he got on his legs again, forgot his +misery and comforted himself with the thought that he could always see +enough with one eye. But on the sixth day, hunger made itself felt +again, and gnawed him almost to the heart. In the evening he fell down +by a tree, and on the seventh morning he could not raise himself up for +faintness, and death was close at hand. Then said the shoemaker, “I +will show mercy and give thee bread once more, but thou shalt not have +it for nothing, I shall put out thy other eye for it.” And now the +tailor felt how thoughtless his life had been, prayed to God for +forgiveness, and said, “Do what thou wilt, I will bear what I must, but +remember that our Lord God does not always look on passively, and that +an hour will come when the evil deed which thou hast done to me, and +which I have not deserved of thee, will be requited. When times were +good with me, I shared what I had with thee. My trade is of that kind +that each stitch must always be exactly like the other. If I no longer +have my eyes and can sew no more I must go a-begging. At any rate do +not leave me here alone when I am blind, or I shall die of hunger.” The +shoemaker, however, who had driven God out of his heart, took the knife +and put out his left eye. Then he gave him a bit of bread to eat, held +out a stick to him, and drew him on behind him. + +When the sun went down, they got out of the forest, and before them in +the open country stood the gallows. Thither the shoemaker guided the +blind tailor, and then left him alone and went his way. Weariness, +pain, and hunger made the wretched man fall asleep, and he slept the +whole night. When day dawned he awoke, but knew not where he lay. Two +poor sinners were hanging on the gallows, and a crow sat on the head of +each of them. Then one of the men who had been hanged began to speak, +and said, “Brother, art thou awake?” “Yes, I am awake,” answered the +second. “Then I will tell thee something,” said the first; “the dew +which this night has fallen down over us from the gallows, gives every +one who washes himself with it his eyes again. If blind people did but +know this, how many would regain their sight who do not believe that to +be possible.” + +When the tailor heard that, he took his pocket-handkerchief, pressed it +on the grass, and when it was moist with dew, washed the sockets of his +eyes with it. Immediately was fulfilled what the man on the gallows had +said, and a couple of healthy new eyes filled the sockets. It was not +long before the tailor saw the sun rise behind the mountains; in the +plain before him lay the great royal city with its magnificent gates +and hundred towers, and the golden balls and crosses which were on the +spires began to shine. He could distinguish every leaf on the trees, +saw the birds which flew past, and the midges which danced in the air. +He took a needle out of his pocket, and as he could thread it as well +as ever he had done, his heart danced with delight. He threw himself on +his knees, thanked God for the mercy he had shown him, and said his +morning prayer. He did not forget also to pray for the poor sinners who +were hanging there swinging against each other in the wind like the +pendulums of clocks. Then he took his bundle on his back and soon +forgot the pain of heart he had endured, and went on his way singing +and whistling. + +The first thing he met was a brown foal running about the fields at +large. He caught it by the mane, and wanted to spring on it and ride +into the town. The foal, however, begged to be set free. “I am still +too young,” it said, “even a light tailor such as thou art would break +my back in two let me go till I have grown strong. A time may perhaps +come when I may reward thee for it.” “Run off,” said the tailor, “I see +thou art still a giddy thing.” He gave it a touch with a switch over +its back, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy, leapt over +hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open country. + +But the little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. “The sun +to be sure fills my eyes,” said he, “but the bread does not fill my +mouth. The first thing that comes across me and is even half edible +will have to suffer for it.” In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly +over the meadow towards him. “Halt, halt!” cried the tailor, and seized +him by the leg. “I don’t know if thou art good to eat or not, but my +hunger leaves me no great choice. I must cut thy head off, and roast +thee.” “Don’t do that,” replied the stork; “I am a sacred bird which +brings mankind great profit, and no one does me an injury. Leave me my +life, and I may do thee good in some other way.” “Well, be off, Cousin +Longlegs,” said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang +down, and flew gently away. + +“What’s to be the end of this?” said the tailor to himself at last, “my +hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. +Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost.” At this moment he saw a couple +of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards him. “You +come just at the right moment,” said he, and laid hold of one of them +and was about to wring its neck. On this an old duck which was hidden +among the reeds, began to scream loudly, and swam to him with open +beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear children. “Canst thou +not imagine,” said she, “how thy mother would mourn if any one wanted +to carry thee off, and give thee thy finishing stroke?” “Only be +quiet,” said the good-tempered tailor, “thou shalt keep thy children,” +and put the prisoner back into the water. + +When he turned round, he was standing in front of an old tree which was +partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it. “There I +shall at once find the reward of my good deed,” said the tailor, “the +honey will refresh me.” But the Queen-bee came out, threatened him and +said, “If thou touchest my people, and destroyest my nest, our stings +shall pierce thy skin like ten thousand red-hot needles. But if thou +wilt leave us in peace and go thy way, we will do thee a service for it +another time.” + +The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. “Three +dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner!” He dragged +himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town, and as it +was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn, and +he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied he +said, “Now I will get to work.” He went round the town, sought a +master, and soon found a good situation. As, however, he had thoroughly +learnt his trade, it was not long before he became famous, and every +one wanted to have his new coat made by the little tailor, whose +importance increased daily. “I can go no further in skill,” said he, +“and yet things improve every day.” At last the King appointed him +court-tailor. + +But how things do happen in the world! On the very same day his former +comrade the shoemaker also became court-shoemaker. When the latter +caught sight of the tailor, and saw that he had once more two healthy +eyes, his conscience troubled him. “Before he takes revenge on me,” +thought he to himself, “I must dig a pit for him.” He, however, who +digs a pit for another, falls into it himself. In the evening when work +was over and it had grown dusk, he stole to the King and said, “Lord +King, the tailor is an arrogant fellow and has boasted that he will get +the gold crown back again which was lost in ancient times.” “That would +please me very much,” said the King, and he caused the tailor to be +brought before him next morning, and ordered him to get the crown back +again, or to leave the town for ever. “Oho!” thought the tailor, “a +rogue gives more than he has got. If the surly King wants me to do what +can be done by no one, I will not wait till morning, but will go out of +the town at once, to-day.” He packed up his bundle, therefore, but when +he was without the gate he could not help being sorry to give up his +good fortune, and turn his back on the town in which all had gone so +well with him. He came to the pond where he had made the acquaintance +of the ducks; at that very moment the old one whose young ones he had +spared, was sitting there by the shore, pluming herself with her beak. +She knew him again instantly, and asked why he was hanging his head so? +“Thou wilt not be surprised when thou hearest what has befallen me,” +replied the tailor, and told her his fate. “If that be all,” said the +duck, “we can help thee. The crown fell into the water, and lies down +below at the bottom; we will soon bring it up again for thee. In the +meantime just spread out thy handkerchief on the bank.” She dived down +with her twelve young ones, and in five minutes she was up again and +sat with the crown resting on her wings, and the twelve young ones were +swimming round about and had put their beaks under it, and were helping +to carry it. They swam to the shore and put the crown on the +handkerchief. No one can imagine how magnificent the crown was; when +the sun shone on it, it gleamed like a hundred thousand carbuncles. The +tailor tied his handkerchief together by the four corners, and carried +it to the King, who was full of joy, and put a gold chain round the +tailor’s neck. + +When the shoemaker saw that one stroke had failed, he contrived a +second, and went to the King and said, “Lord King, the tailor has +become insolent again; he boasts that he will copy in wax the whole of +the royal palace, with everything that pertains to it, loose or fast, +inside and out.” The King sent for the tailor and ordered him to copy +in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that pertained to +it, movable or immovable, within and without, and if he did not succeed +in doing this, or if so much as one nail on the wall were wanting, he +should be imprisoned for his whole life under ground. + +The tailor thought, “It gets worse and worse! No one can endure that?” +and threw his bundle on his back, and went forth. When he came to the +hollow tree, he sat down and hung his head. The bees came flying out, +and the Queen-bee asked him if he had a stiff neck, since he held his +head so awry? “Alas, no,” answered the tailor, “something quite +different weighs me down,” and he told her what the King had demanded +of him. The bees began to buzz and hum amongst themselves, and the +Queen-bee said, “Just go home again, but come back to-morrow at this +time, and bring a large sheet with you, and then all will be well.” So +he turned back again, but the bees flew to the royal palace and +straight into it through the open windows, crept round about into every +corner, and inspected everything most carefully. Then they hurried back +and modelled the palace in wax with such rapidity that any one looking +on would have thought it was growing before his eyes. By the evening +all was ready, and when the tailor came next morning, the whole of the +splendid building was there, and not one nail in the wall or tile of +the roof was wanting, and it was delicate withal, and white as snow, +and smelt sweet as honey. The tailor wrapped it carefully in his cloth +and took it to the King, who could not admire it enough, placed it in +his largest hall, and in return for it presented the tailor with a +large stone house. + +The shoemaker, however, did not give up, but went for the third time to +the King and said, “Lord King, it has come to the tailor’s ears that no +water will spring up in the court-yard of the castle, and he has +boasted that it shall rise up in the midst of the court-yard to a man’s +height and be clear as crystal.” Then the King ordered the tailor to be +brought before him and said, “If a stream of water does not rise in my +court-yard by to-morrow as thou hast promised, the executioner shall in +that very place make thee shorter by the head.” The poor tailor did not +take long to think about it, but hurried out to the gate, and because +this time it was a matter of life and death to him, tears rolled down +his face. Whilst he was thus going forth full of sorrow, the foal to +which he had formerly given its liberty, and which had now become a +beautiful chestnut horse, came leaping towards him. “The time has +come,” it said to the tailor, “when I can repay thee for thy good deed. +I know already what is needful to thee, but thou shalt soon have help; +get on me, my back can carry two such as thou.” The tailor’s courage +came back to him; he jumped up in one bound, and the horse went full +speed into the town, and right up to the court-yard of the castle. It +galloped as quick as lightning thrice round it, and at the third time +it fell violently down. At the same instant, however, there was a +terrific clap of thunder, a fragment of earth in the middle of the +court-yard sprang like a cannon-ball into the air, and over the castle, +and directly after it a jet of water rose as high as a man on +horseback, and the water was as pure as crystal, and the sunbeams began +to dance on it. When the King saw that he arose in amazement, and went +and embraced the tailor in the sight of all men. + +But good fortune did not last long. The King had daughters in plenty, +one still prettier than the other, but he had no son. So the malicious +shoemaker betook himself for the fourth time to the King, and said, +“Lord King, the tailor has not given up his arrogance. He has now +boasted that if he liked, he could cause a son to be brought to the +Lord king through the air.” The King commanded the tailor to be +summoned, and said, “If thou causest a son to be brought to me within +nine days, thou shalt have my eldest daughter to wife.” “The reward is +indeed great,” thought the little tailor; “one would willingly do +something for it, but the cherries grow too high for me, if I climb for +them, the bough will break beneath me, and I shall fall.” + +He went home, seated himself cross-legged on his work-table, and +thought over what was to be done. “It can’t be managed,” cried he at +last, “I will go away; after all I can’t live in peace here.” He tied +up his bundle and hurried away to the gate. When he got to the meadow, +he perceived his old friend the stork, who was walking backwards and +forwards like a philosopher. Sometimes he stood still, took a frog into +close consideration, and at length swallowed it down. The stork came to +him and greeted him. “I see,” he began, “that thou hast thy pack on thy +back. Why art thou leaving the town?” The tailor told him what the King +had required of him, and how he could not perform it, and lamented his +misfortune. “Don’t let thy hair grow grey about that,” said the stork, +“I will help thee out of thy difficulty. For a long time now, I have +carried the children in swaddling-clothes into the town, so for once in +a way I can fetch a little prince out of the well. Go home and be easy. +In nine days from this time repair to the royal palace, and there will +I come.” The little tailor went home, and at the appointed time was at +the castle. It was not long before the stork came flying thither and +tapped at the window. The tailor opened it, and cousin Longlegs came +carefully in, and walked with solemn steps over the smooth marble +pavement. He had, moreover, a baby in his beak that was as lovely as an +angel, and stretched out its little hands to the Queen. The stork laid +it in her lap, and she caressed it and kissed it, and was beside +herself with delight. Before the stork flew away, he took his +travelling bag off his back and handed it over to the Queen. In it +there were little paper parcels with colored sweetmeats, and they were +divided amongst the little princesses. The eldest, however, had none of +them, but got the merry tailor for a husband. “It seems to me,” said +he, “just as if I had won the highest prize. My mother was if right +after all, she always said that whoever trusts in God and only has good +luck, can never fail.” + +The shoemaker had to make the shoes in which the little tailor danced +at the wedding festival, after which he was commanded to quit the town +for ever. The road to the forest led him to the gallows. Worn out with +anger, rage, and the heat of the day, he threw himself down. When he +had closed his eyes and was about to sleep, the two crows flew down +from the heads of the men who were hanging there, and pecked his eyes +out. In his madness he ran into the forest and must have died there of +hunger, for no one has ever either seen him again or heard of him. + + + +108 Hans the Hedgehog + +There was once a countryman who had money and land in plenty, but how +rich soever he was, one thing was still wanting in his happiness he had +no children. Often when he went into the town with the other peasants +they mocked him and asked why he had no children. At last he became +angry, and when he got home he said, “I will have a child, even if it +be a hedgehog.” Then his wife had a child, that was a hedgehog in the +upper part of his body, and a boy in the lower, and when she saw the +child, she was terrified, and said, “See, there thou hast brought +ill-luck on us.” Then said the man, “What can be done now? The boy must +be christened, but we shall not be able to get a godfather for him.” +The woman said, “And we cannot call him anything else but Hans the +Hedgehog.” + +When he was christened, the parson said, “He cannot go into any +ordinary bed because of his spikes.” So a little straw was put behind +the stove, and Hans the Hedgehog was laid on it. His mother could not +suckle him, for he would have pricked her with his quills. So he lay +there behind the stove for eight years, and his father was tired of him +and thought, “If he would but die!” He did not die, however, but +remained lying there. Now it happened that there was a fair in the +town, and the peasant was about to go to it, and asked his wife what he +should bring back with him for her. “A little meat and a couple of +white rolls which are wanted for the house,” said she. Then he asked +the servant, and she wanted a pair of slippers and some stockings with +clocks. At last he said also, “And what wilt thou have, Hans my +Hedgehog?” “Dear father,” he said, “do bring me bagpipes.” When, +therefore, the father came home again, he gave his wife what he had +bought for her; meat and white rolls, and then he gave the maid the +slippers, and the stockings with clocks; and, lastly, he went behind +the stove, and gave Hans the Hedgehog the bagpipes. And when Hans the +Hedgehog had the bagpipes, he said, “Dear father, do go to the forge +and get the cock shod, and then I will ride away, and never come back +again.” On this, the father was delighted to think that he was going to +get rid of him, and had the cock shod for him, and when it was done, +Hans the Hedgehog got on it, and rode away, but took swine and asses +with him which he intended to keep in the forest. When they got there +he made the cock fly on to a high tree with him, and there he sat for +many a long year, and watched his asses and swine until the herd was +quite large, and his father knew nothing about him. While he was +sitting in the tree, however, he played his bagpipes, and made music +which was very beautiful. Once a King came travelling by who had lost +his way and heard the music. He was astonished at it, and sent his +servant forth to look all round and see from whence this music came. He +spied about, but saw nothing but a little animal sitting up aloft on +the tree, which looked like a cock with a hedgehog on it which made +this music. Then the King told the servant he was to ask why he sat +there, and if he knew the road which led to his kingdom. So Hans the +Hedgehog descended from the tree, and said he would show the way if the +King would write a bond and promise him whatever he first met in the +royal courtyard as soon as he arrived at home. Then the King thought, +“I can easily do that, Hans the Hedgehog understands nothing, and I can +write what I like.” So the King took pen and ink and wrote something, +and when he had done it, Hans the Hedgehog showed him the way, and he +got safely home. But his daughter, when she saw him from afar, was so +overjoyed that she ran to meet him, and kissed him. Then he remembered +Hans the Hedgehog, and told her what had happened, and that he had been +forced to promise whatsoever first met him when he got home, to a very +strange animal which sat on a cock as if it were a horse, and made +beautiful music, but that instead of writing that he should have what +he wanted, he had written that he should not have it. Thereupon the +princess was glad, and said he had done well, for she never would have +gone away with the Hedgehog. + +Hans the Hedgehog, however, looked after his asses and pigs, and was +always merry and sat on the tree and played his bagpipes. + +Now it came to pass that another King came journeying by with his +attendants and runners, and he also had lost his way, and did not know +how to get home again because the forest was so large. He likewise +heard the beautiful music from a distance, and asked his runner what +that could be, and told him to go and see. Then the runner went under +the tree, and saw the cock sitting at the top of it, and Hans the +Hedgehog on the cock. The runner asked him what he was about up there? +“I am keeping my asses and my pigs; but what is your desire?” The +messenger said that they had lost their way, and could not get back +into their own kingdom, and asked if he would not show them the way. +Then Hans the Hedgehog got down the tree with the cock, and told the +aged King that he would show him the way, if he would give him for his +own whatsoever first met him in front of his royal palace. The King +said, “Yes,” and wrote a promise to Hans the Hedgehog that he should +have this. That done, Hans rode on before him on the cock, and pointed +out the way, and the King reached his kingdom again in safety. When he +got to the courtyard, there were great rejoicings. Now he had an only +daughter who was very beautiful; she ran to meet him, threw her arms +round his neck, and was delighted to have her old father back again. +She asked him where in the world he had been so long. So he told her +how he had lost his way, and had very nearly not come back at all, but +that as he was travelling through a great forest, a creature, half +hedgehog, half man, who was sitting astride a cock in a high tree, and +making music, had shown him the way and helped him to get out, but that +in return he had promised him whatsoever first met him in the royal +court-yard, and how that was she herself, which made him unhappy now. +But on this she promised that, for love of her father, she would +willingly go with this Hans if he came. + +Hans the Hedgehog, however, took care of his pigs, and the pigs +multiplied until they became so many in number that the whole forest +was filled with them. Then Hans the Hedgehog resolved not to live in +the forest any longer, and sent word to his father to have every stye +in the village emptied, for he was coming with such a great herd that +all might kill who wished to do so. When his father heard that, he was +troubled, for he thought Hans the Hedgehog had died long ago. Hans the +Hedgehog, however, seated himself on the cock, and drove the pigs +before him into the village, and ordered the slaughter to begin. Ha! +but there was a killing and a chopping that might have been heard two +miles off! After this Hans the Hedgehog said, “Father, let me have the +cock shod once more at the forge, and then I will ride away and never +come back as long as I live.” Then the father had the cock shod once +more, and was pleased that Hans the Hedgehog would never return again. + +Hans the Hedgehog rode away to the first kingdom. There the King had +commanded that whosoever came mounted on a cock and had bagpipes with +him should be shot at, cut down, or stabbed by everyone, so that he +might not enter the palace. When, therefore, Hans the Hedgehog came +riding thither, they all pressed forward against him with their pikes, +but he spurred the cock and it flew up over the gate in front of the +King’s window and lighted there, and Hans cried that the King must give +him what he had promised, or he would take both his life and his +daughter’s. Then the King began to speak his daughter fair, and to beg +her to go away with Hans in order to save her own life and her +father’s. So she dressed herself in white, and her father gave her a +carriage with six horses and magnificent attendants together with gold +and possessions. She seated herself in the carriage, and placed Hans +the Hedgehog beside her with the cock and the bagpipes, and then they +took leave and drove away, and the King thought he should never see her +again. He was however, deceived in his expectation, for when they were +at a short distance from the town, Hans the Hedgehog took her pretty +clothes off, and pierced her with his hedgehog’s skin until she bled +all over. “That is the reward of your falseness,” said he, “go your +way, I will not have you!” and on that he chased her home again, and +she was disgraced for the rest of her life. + +Hans the Hedgehog, however, rode on further on the cock, with his +bagpipes, to the dominions of the second King to whom he had shown the +way. This one, however, had arranged that if any one resembling Hans +the Hedgehog should come, they were to present arms, give him safe +conduct, cry long life to him, and lead him to the royal palace. + +But when the King’s daughter saw him she was terrified, for he looked +quite too strange. She remembered however, that she could not change +her mind, for she had given her promise to her father. So Hans the +Hedgehog was welcomed by her, and married to her, and had to go with +her to the royal table, and she seated herself by his side, and they +ate and drank. When the evening came and they wanted to go to sleep, +she was afraid of his quills, but he told her she was not to fear, for +no harm would befall her, and he told the old King that he was to +appoint four men to watch by the door of the chamber, and light a great +fire, and when he entered the room and was about to get into bed, he +would creep out of his hedgehog’s skin and leave it lying there by the +bedside, and that the men were to run nimbly to it, throw it in the +fire, and stay by it until it was consumed. When the clock struck +eleven, he went into the chamber, stripped off the hedgehog’s skin, and +left it lying by the bed. Then came the men and fetched it swiftly, and +threw it in the fire; and when the fire had consumed it, he was +delivered, and lay there in bed in human form, but he was coal-black as +if he had been burnt. The King sent for his physician who washed him +with precious salves, and anointed him, and he became white, and was a +handsome young man. When the King’s daughter saw that she was glad, and +the next morning they arose joyfully, ate and drank, and then the +marriage was properly solemnized, and Hans the Hedgehog received the +kingdom from the aged King. + +When several years had passed he went with his wife to his father, and +said that he was his son. The father, however, declared he had no son +he had never had but one, and he had been born like a hedgehog with +spikes, and had gone forth into the world. Then Hans made himself +known, and the old father rejoiced and went with him to his kingdom. + +My tale is done, +And away it has run +To little August’s house. + + + +109 The Shroud + +There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who +was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without +liking him, and she herself worshipped him above everything in the +world. Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took him +to himself; and for this the mother could not be comforted, and wept +both day and night. But soon afterwards, when the child had been +buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and played +during its life, and if the mother wept, it wept also, and when morning +came it disappeared. As, however, the mother would not stop crying, it +came one night, in the little white shroud in which it had been laid in +its coffin, and with its wreath of flowers round its head, and stood on +the bed at her feet, and said, “Oh, mother, do stop crying, or I shall +never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry because of +all thy tears, which fall upon it.” The mother was afraid when she +heard that, and wept no more. The next night the child came again, and +held a little light in its hand, and said, “Look, mother, my shroud is +nearly dry, and I can rest in my grave.” Then the mother gave her +sorrow into God’s keeping, and bore it quietly and patiently, and the +child came no more, but slept in its little bed beneath the earth. + + + +110 The Jew Among Thorns + +There was once a rich man, who had a servant who served him diligently +and honestly: He was every morning the first out of bed, and the last +to go to rest at night; and, whenever there was a difficult job to be +done, which nobody cared to undertake, he was always the first to set +himself to it. Moreover, he never complained, but was contented with +everything, and always merry. + +When a year was ended, his master gave him no wages, for he said to +himself, “That is the cleverest way; for I shall save something, and he +will not go away, but stay quietly in my service.” The servant said +nothing, but did his work the second year as he had done it the first; +and when at the end of this, likewise, he received no wages, he made +himself happy, and still stayed on. + +When the third year also was past, the master considered, put his hand +in his pocket, but pulled nothing out. Then at last the servant said, +“Master, for three years I have served you honestly, be so good as to +give me what I ought to have, for I wish to leave, and look about me a +little more in the world.” + +“Yes, my good fellow,” answered the old miser; “you have served me +industriously, and, therefore, you shall be cheerfully rewarded;” And +he put his hand into his pocket, but counted out only three farthings, +saying, “There, you have a farthing for each year; that is large and +liberal pay, such as you would have received from few masters.” + +The honest servant, who understood little about money, put his fortune +into his pocket, and thought, “Ah! now that I have my purse full, why +need I trouble and plague myself any longer with hard work!” So on he +went, up hill and down dale; and sang and jumped to his heart’s +content. Now it came to pass that as he was going by a thicket a little +man stepped out, and called to him, “Whither away, merry brother? I see +you do not carry many cares.” “Why should I be sad?” answered the +servant; “I have enough; three years’ wages are jingling in my pocket.” +“How much is your treasure?” the dwarf asked him. “How much? Three +farthings sterling, all told.” “Look here,” said the dwarf, “I am a +poor needy man, give me your three farthings; I can work no longer, but +you are young, and can easily earn your bread.” + +And as the servant had a good heart, and felt pity for the old man, he +gave him the three farthings, saying, “Take them in the name of Heaven, +I shall not be any the worse for it.” + +Then the little man said, “As I see you have a good heart I grant you +three wishes, one for each farthing, they shall all be fulfilled.” + +“Aha?” said the servant, “you are one of those who can work wonders! +Well, then, if it is to be so, I wish, first, for a gun, which shall +hit everything that I aim at; secondly, for a fiddle, which when I play +on it, shall compel all who hear it to dance; thirdly, that if I ask a +favor of any one he shall not be able to refuse it.” + +“All that shall you have,” said the dwarf; and put his hand into the +bush, and only think, there lay a fiddle and gun, all ready, just as if +they had been ordered. These he gave to the servant, and then said to +him, “Whatever you may ask at any time, no man in the world shall be +able to deny you.” + +“Heart alive! What can one desire more?” said the servant to himself, +and went merrily onwards. Soon afterwards he met a Jew with a long +goat’s-beard, who was standing listening to the song of a bird which +was sitting up at the top of a tree. “Good heavens,” he was exclaiming, +“that such a small creature should have such a fearfully loud voice! If +it were but mine! If only someone would sprinkle some salt upon its +tail!” + +“If that is all,” said the servant, “the bird shall soon be down here;” +And taking aim he pulled the trigger, and down fell the bird into the +thorn-bushes. “Go, you rogue,” he said to the Jew, “and fetch the bird +out for yourself!” + +“Oh!” said the Jew, “leave out the rogue, my master, and I will do it +at once. I will get the bird out for myself, as you really have hit +it.” Then he lay down on the ground, and began to crawl into the +thicket. + +When he was fast among the thorns, the good servant’s humor so tempted +him that he took up his fiddle and began to play. In a moment the Jew’s +legs began to move, and to jump into the air, and the more the servant +fiddled the better went the dance. But the thorns tore his shabby coat +from him, combed his beard, and pricked and plucked him all over the +body. “Oh dear,” cried the Jew, “what do I want with your fiddling? +Leave the fiddle alone, master; I do not want to dance.” + +But the servant did not listen to him, and thought, “You have fleeced +people often enough, now the thorn-bushes shall do the same to you;” +and he began to play over again, so that the Jew had to jump higher +than ever, and scraps of his coat were left hanging on the thorns. “Oh, +woe’s me! cried the Jew; I will give the gentleman whatsoever he asks +if only he leaves off fiddling a purse full of gold.” “If you are so +liberal,” said the servant, “I will stop my music; but this I must say +to your credit, that you dance to it so well that it is quite an art;” +and having taken the purse he went his way. + +The Jew stood still and watched the servant quietly until he was far +off and out of sight, and then he screamed out with all his might, “You +miserable musician, you beer-house fiddler! wait till I catch you +alone, I will hunt you till the soles of your shoes fall off! You +ragamuffin! just put five farthings in your mouth, and then you may be +worth three halfpence!” and went on abusing him as fast as he could +speak. As soon as he had refreshed himself a little in this way, and +got his breath again, he ran into the town to the justice. + +“My lord judge,” he said, “I have come to make a complaint; see how a +rascal has robbed and ill-treated me on the public highway! a stone on +the ground might pity me; my clothes all torn, my body pricked and +scratched, my little all gone with my purse, good ducats, each piece +better than the last; for God’s sake let the man be thrown into +prison!” + +“Was it a soldier,” said the judge, “who cut you thus with his sabre?” +“Nothing of the sort!” said the Jew; “it was no sword that he had, but +a gun hanging at his back, and a fiddle at his neck; the wretch may +easily be known.” + +So the judge sent his people out after the man, and they found the good +servant, who had been going quite slowly along, and they found, too, +the purse with the money upon him. As soon as he was taken before the +judge he said, “I did not touch the Jew, nor take his money; he gave it +to me of his own free will, that I might leave off fiddling because he +could not bear my music.” “Heaven defend us!” cried the Jew, “his lies +are as thick as flies upon the wall.” + +But the judge also did not believe his tale, and said, “This is a bad +defence, no Jew would do that.” And because he had committed robbery on +the public highway, he sentenced the good servant to be hanged. As he +was being led away the Jew again screamed after him, “You vagabond! you +dog of a fiddler! now you are going to receive your well-earned +reward!” The servant walked quietly with the hangman up the ladder, but +upon the last step he turned round and said to the judge, “Grant me +just one request before I die.” + +“Yes, if you do not ask your life,” said the judge. “I do not ask for +life,” answered the servant, “but as a last favor let me play once more +upon my fiddle.” The Jew raised a great cry of “Murder! murder! for +goodness’ sake do not allow it! Do not allow it!” But the judge said, +“Why should I not let him have this short pleasure? it has been granted +to him, and he shall have it.” However, he could not have refused on +account of the gift which had been bestowed on the servant. + +Then the Jew cried, “Oh! woe’s me! tie me, tie me fast!” while the good +servant took his fiddle from his neck, and made ready. As he gave the +first scrape, they all began to quiver and shake, the judge, his clerk, +and the hangman and his men, and the cord fell out of the hand of the +one who was going to tie the Jew fast. At the second scrape all raised +their legs, and the hangman let go his hold of the good servant, and +made himself ready to dance. At the third scrape they all leaped up and +began to dance; the judge and the Jew being the best at jumping. Soon +all who had gathered in the market-place out of curiosity were dancing +with them; old and young, fat and lean, one with another. The dogs, +likewise, which had run there got up on their hind legs and capered +about; and the longer he played, the higher sprang the dancers, so that +they knocked against each other’s heads, and began to shriek terribly. + +At length the judge cried, quite out of breath, “I will give you your +life if you will only stop fiddling.” The good servant thereupon had +compassion, took his fiddle and hung it round his neck again, and +stepped down the ladder. Then he went up to the Jew, who was lying upon +the ground panting for breath, and said, “You rascal, now confess, +whence you got the money, or I will take my fiddle and begin to play +again.” “I stole it, I stole it!” cried he; “but you have honestly +earned it.” So the judge had the Jew taken to the gallows and hanged as +a thief. + + + +111 The Skilful Huntsman + +There was once a young fellow who had learnt the trade of locksmith, +and told his father he would now go out into the world and seek his +fortune. “Very well,” said the father, “I am quite content with that,” +and gave him some money for his journey. So he travelled about and +looked for work. After a time he resolved not to follow the trade of +locksmith any more, for he no longer liked it, but he took a fancy for +hunting. Then there met him in his rambles a huntsman dressed in green, +who asked whence he came and whither he was going? The youth said he +was a locksmith’s apprentice, but that the trade no longer pleased him, +and he had a liking for huntsmanship, would he teach it to him? “Oh, +yes,” said the huntsman, “if thou wilt go with me.” Then the young +fellow went with him, bound himself to him for some years, and learnt +the art of hunting. After this he wished to try his luck elsewhere, and +the huntsman gave him nothing in the way of payment but an air-gun, +which had, however, this property, that it hit its mark without fail +whenever he shot with it. Then he set out and found himself in a very +large forest, which he could not get to the end of in one day. When +evening came he seated himself in a high tree in order to escape from +the wild beasts. Towards midnight, it seemed to him as if a tiny little +light glimmered in the distance. Then he looked down through the +branches towards it, and kept well in his mind where it was. But in the +first place he took off his hat and threw it down in the direction of +the light, so that he might go to the hat as a mark when he had +descended. Then he got down and went to his hat, put it on again and +went straight forwards. The farther he went, the larger the light grew, +and when he got close to it he saw that it was an enormous fire, and +that three giants were sitting by it, who had an ox on the spit, and +were roasting it. Presently one of them said, “I must just taste if the +meat will soon be fit to eat,” and pulled a piece off, and was about to +put it in his mouth when the huntsman shot it out of his hand. “Well, +really,” said the giant, “if the wind has not blown the bit out of my +hand!” and helped himself to another. But when he was just about to +bite into it, the huntsman again shot it away from him. On this the +giant gave the one who was sitting next him a box on the ear, and cried +angrily, “Why art thou snatching my piece away from me?” “I have not +snatched it away,” said the other, “a sharpshooter must have shot it +away from thee.” The giant took another piece, but could not, however, +keep it in his hand, for the huntsman shot it out. Then the giant said, +“That must be a good shot to shoot the bit out of one’s very mouth, +such an one would be useful to us.” And he cried aloud, “Come here, +thou sharpshooter, seat thyself at the fire beside us and eat thy fill, +we will not hurt thee; but if thou wilt not come, and we have to bring +thee by force, thou art a lost man!” On this the youth went up to them +and told them he was a skilled huntsman, and that whatever he aimed at +with his gun, he was certain to hit. Then they said if he would go with +them he should be well treated, and they told him that outside the +forest there was a great lake, behind which stood a tower, and in the +tower was imprisoned a lovely princess, whom they wished very much to +carry off. “Yes,” said he, “I will soon get her for you.” Then they +added, “But there is still something else, there is a tiny little dog, +which begins to bark directly any one goes near, and as soon as it +barks every one in the royal palace wakens up, and for this reason we +cannot get there; canst thou undertake to shoot it dead?” “Yes,” said +he, “that will be a little bit of fun for me.” After this he got into a +boat and rowed over the lake, and as soon as he landed, the little dog +came running out, and was about to bark, but the huntsman took his +air-gun and shot it dead. When the giants saw that, they rejoiced, and +thought they already had the King’s daughter safe, but the huntsman +wished first to see how matters stood, and told them that they must +stay outside until he called them. Then he went into the castle, and +all was perfectly quiet within, and every one was asleep. When he +opened the door of the first room, a sword was hanging on the wall +which was made of pure silver, and there was a golden star on it, and +the name of the King, and on a table near it lay a sealed letter which +he broke open, and inside it was written that whosoever had the sword +could kill everything which opposed him. So he took the sword from the +wall, hung it at his side and went onwards: then he entered the room +where the King’s daughter was lying sleeping, and she was so beautiful +that he stood still and, holding his breath, looked at her. He thought +to himself, “How can I give an innocent maiden into the power of the +wild giants, who have evil in their minds?” He looked about further, +and under the bed stood a pair of slippers, on the right one was her +father’s name with a star, and on the left her own name with a star. +She wore also a great neck-kerchief of silk embroidered with gold, and +on the right side was her father’s name, and on the left her own, all +in golden letters. Then the huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut +the right corner off, and put it in his knapsack, and then he also took +the right slipper with the King’s name, and thrust that in. Now the +maiden still lay sleeping, and she was quite sewn into her night-dress, +and he cut a morsel from this also, and thrust it in with the rest, but +he did all without touching her. Then he went forth and left her lying +asleep undisturbed, and when he came to the gate again, the giants were +still standing outside waiting for him, and expecting that he was +bringing the princess. But he cried to them that they were to come in, +for the maiden was already in their power, that he could not open the +gate to them, but there was a hole through which they must creep. Then +the first approached, and the huntsman wound the giant’s hair round his +hand, pulled the head in, and cut it off at one stroke with his sword, +and then drew the rest of him in. He called to the second and cut his +head off likewise, and then he killed the third also, and he was well +pleased that he had freed the beautiful maiden from her enemies, and he +cut out their tongues and put them in his knapsack. Then thought he, “I +will go home to my father and let him see what I have already done, and +afterwards I will travel about the world; the luck which God is pleased +to grant me will easily find me.” + +But when the King in the castle awoke, he saw the three giants lying +there dead. So he went into the sleeping-room of his daughter, awoke +her, and asked who could have killed the giants? Then said she, “Dear +father, I know not, I have been asleep.” But when she arose and would +have put on her slippers, the right one was gone, and when she looked +at her neck-kerchief it was cut, and the right corner was missing, and +when she looked at her night-dress a piece was cut out of it. The King +summoned his whole court together, soldiers and every one else who was +there, and asked who had set his daughter at liberty, and killed the +giants? Now it happened that he had a captain, who was one-eyed and a +hideous man, and he said that he had done it. Then the old King said +that as he had accomplished this, he should marry his daughter. But the +maiden said, “Rather than marry him, dear father, I will go away into +the world as far as my legs can carry me.” But the King said that if +she would not marry him she should take off her royal garments and wear +peasant’s clothing, and go forth, and that she should go to a potter, +and begin a trade in earthen vessels. So she put off her royal apparel, +and went to a potter and borrowed crockery enough for a stall, and she +promised him also that if she had sold it by the evening, she would pay +for it. Then the King said she was to seat herself in a corner with it +and sell it, and he arranged with some peasants to drive over it with +their carts, so that everything should be broken into a thousand +pieces. When therefore the King’s daughter had placed her stall in the +street, by came the carts, and broke all she had into tiny fragments. +She began to weep and said, “Alas, how shall I ever pay for the pots +now?” The King had, however, wished by this to force her to marry the +captain; but instead of that, she again went to the potter, and asked +him if he would lend to her once more. He said, “No,” she must first +pay for the things she had already had. Then she went to her father and +cried and lamented, and said she would go forth into the world. Then +said he, “I will have a little hut built for thee in the forest +outside, and in it thou shalt stay all thy life long and cook for every +one, but thou shalt take no money for it.” When the hut was ready, a +sign was hung on the door whereon was written, “To-day given, to-morrow +sold.” There she remained a long time, and it was rumored about the +world that a maiden was there who cooked without asking for payment, +and that this was set forth on a sign outside her door. The huntsman +heard it likewise, and thought to himself, “That would suit thee. Thou +art poor, and hast no money.” So he took his air-gun and his knapsack, +wherein all the things which he had formerly carried away with him from +the castle as tokens of his truthfulness were still lying, and went +into the forest, and found the hut with the sign, “To-day given, +to-morrow sold.” He had put on the sword with which he had cut off the +heads of the three giants, and thus entered the hut, and ordered +something to eat to be given to him. He was charmed with the beautiful +maiden, who was indeed as lovely as any picture. She asked him whence +he came and whither he was going, and he said, “I am roaming about the +world.” Then she asked him where he had got the sword, for that truly +her father’s name was on it. He asked her if she were the King’s +daughter. “Yes,” answered she. “With this sword,” said he, “did I cut +off the heads of three giants.” And he took their tongues out of his +knapsack in proof. Then he also showed her the slipper, and the corner +of the neck-kerchief, and the bit of the night-dress. Hereupon she was +overjoyed, and said that he was the one who had delivered her. On this +they went together to the old King, and fetched him to the hut, and she +led him into her room, and told him that the huntsman was the man who +had really set her free from the giants. And when the aged King saw all +the proofs of this, he could no longer doubt, and said that he was very +glad he knew how everything had happened, and that the huntsman should +have her to wife, on which the maiden was glad at heart. Then she +dressed the huntsman as if he were a foreign lord, and the King ordered +a feast to be prepared. When they went to table, the captain sat on the +left side of the King’s daughter, but the huntsman was on the right, +and the captain thought he was a foreign lord who had come on a visit. +When they had eaten and drunk, the old King said to the captain that he +would set before him something which he must guess. “Supposing any one +said that he had killed the three giants and he were asked where the +giants’ tongues were, and he were forced to go and look, and there were +none in their heads, how could that happen?” The captain said, “Then +they cannot have had any.” “Not so,” said the King. “Every animal has a +tongue,” and then he likewise asked what any one would deserve who made +such an answer? The captain replied, “He ought to be torn in pieces.” +Then the King said he had pronounced his own sentence, and the captain +was put in prison and then torn in four pieces; but the King’s daughter +was married to the huntsman. After this he brought his father and +mother, and they lived with their son in happiness, and after the death +of the old King he received the kingdom. + + + +112 The Flail From Heaven + +A countryman was once going out to plough with a pair of oxen. When he +got to the field, both the animals’ horns began to grow, and went on +growing, and when he wanted to go home they were so big that the oxen +could not get through the gateway for them. By good luck a butcher came +by just then, and he delivered them over to him, and made the bargain +in this way, that he should take the butcher a measure of turnip-seed, +and then the butcher was to count him out a Brabant thaler for every +seed. I call that well sold! The peasant now went home, and carried the +measure of turnip-seed to him on his back. On the way, however, he lost +one seed out of the bag. The butcher paid him justly as agreed on, and +if the peasant had not lost the seed, he would have had one thaler the +more. In the meantime, when he went on his way back, the seed had grown +into a tree which reached up to the sky. Then thought the peasant, “As +thou hast the chance, thou must just see what the angels are doing up +there above, and for once have them before thine eyes.” So he climbed +up, and saw that the angels above were threshing oats, and he looked +on. While he was thus watching them, he observed that the tree on which +he was standing, was beginning to totter; he peeped down, and saw that +someone was just going to cut it down. “If I were to fall down from +hence it would be a bad thing,” thought he, and in his necessity he did +not know how to save himself better than by taking the chaff of the +oats which lay there in heaps, and twisting a rope of it. He likewise +snatched a hoe and a flail which were lying about in heaven, and let +himself down by the rope. But he came down on the earth exactly in the +middle of a deep, deep hole. So it was a real piece of luck that he had +brought the hoe, for he hoed himself a flight of steps with it, and +mounted up, and took the flail with him as a token of his truth, so +that no one could have any doubt of his story. + + + +113 The Two Kings’ Children + +There was once on a time a King who had a little boy of whom it had +been foretold that he should be killed by a stag when he was sixteen +years of age, and when he had reached that age the huntsmen once went +hunting with him. In the forest, the King’s son was separated from the +others, and all at once he saw a great stag which he wanted to shoot, +but could not hit. At length he chased the stag so far that they were +quite out of the forest, and then suddenly a great tall man was +standing there instead of the stag, and said, “It is well that I have +thee. I have already ruined six pairs of glass skates with running +after thee, and have not been able to get thee.” Then he took the +King’s son with him, and dragged him through a great lake to a great +palace, and then he had to sit down to table with him and eat +something. When they had eaten something together the King said, “I +have three daughters, thou must keep watch over the eldest for one +night, from nine in the evening till six in the morning, and every time +the clock strikes, I will come myself and call, and if thou then givest +me no answer, to-morrow morning thou shall be put to death, but if thou +always givest me an answer, thou shalt have her to wife.” + +When the young folks went to the bed-room there stood a stone image of +St. Christopher, and the King’s daughter said to it, “My father will +come at nine o’clock, and every hour till it strikes three; when he +calls, give him an answer instead of the King’s son.” Then the stone +image of St. Christopher nodded its head quite quickly, and then more +and more slowly till at last it stood still. The next morning the King +said to him, “Thou hast done the business well, but I cannot give my +daughter away. Thou must now watch a night by my second daughter, and +then I will consider with myself, whether thou canst have my eldest +daughter to wife, but I shall come every hour myself, and when I call +thee, answer me, and if I call thee and thou dost not reply, thy blood +shall flow.” Then they both went into the sleeping-room, and there +stood a still larger stone image of St. Christopher, and the King’s +daughter said to it, “If my father calls, do you answer him.” Then the +great stone image of St. Christopher again nodded its head quite +quickly and then more and more slowly, until at last it stood still +again. And the King’s son lay down on the threshold, put his hand under +his head and slept. The next morning the King said to him, “Thou hast +done the business really well, but I cannot give my daughter away; thou +must now watch a night by the youngest princess, and then I will +consider with myself whether thou canst have my second daughter to +wife, but I shall come every hour myself, and when I call thee answer +me, and if I call thee and thou answerest not, thy blood shall flow for +me.” + +Then they once more went to the sleeping-room together, and there was a +much greater and much taller image of St. Christopher than the two +first had been. The King’s daughter said to it, “When my father calls, +do thou answer.” Then the great tall stone image of St. Christopher +nodded quite half an hour with its head, until at length the head stood +still again. And the King’s son laid himself down on the threshold of +the door and slept. The next morning the King said, “Thou hast indeed +watched well, but I cannot give thee my daughter now; I have a great +forest, if thou cuttest it down for me between six o’clock this morning +and six at night, I will think about it.” Then he gave him a glass axe, +a glass wedge, and a glass mallet. When he got into the wood, he began +at once to cut, but the axe broke in two, then he took the wedge, and +struck it once with the mallet, and it became as short and as small as +sand. Then he was much troubled and believed he would have to die, and +sat down and wept. + +Now when it was noon the King said, “One of you girls must take him +something to eat.” “No,” said the two eldest, “We will not take it to +him; the one by whom he last watched, can take him something.” Then the +youngest was forced to go and take him something to eat. When she got +into the forest, she asked him how he was getting on? “Oh,” said he, “I +am getting on very badly.” Then she said he was to come and just eat a +little. “Nay,” said he, “I cannot do that, I shall still have to die, +so I will eat no more.” Then she spoke so kindly to him and begged him +just to try, that he came and ate something. When he had eaten +something she said, “I will comb thy hair a while, and then thou wilt +feel happier.” + +So she combed his hair, and he became weary and fell asleep, and then +she took her handkerchief and made a knot in it, and struck it three +times on the earth, and said, “Earth-workers, come forth.” In a moment, +numbers of little earth-men came forth, and asked what the King’s +daughter commanded? Then said she, “In three hours’ time the great +forest must be cut down, and the whole of the wood laid in heaps.” So +the little earth-men went about and got together the whole of their +kindred to help them with the work. They began at once, and when the +three hours were over, all was done, and they came back to the King’s +daughter and told her so. Then she took her white handkerchief again +and said, “Earth-workers, go home.” On this they all disappeared. When +the King’s son awoke, he was delighted, and she said, “Come home when +it has struck six o’clock.” He did as she told him, and then the King +asked, “Hast thou made away with the forest?” “Yes,” said the King’s +son. When they were sitting at table, the King said, “I cannot yet give +thee my daughter to wife, thou must still do something more for her +sake.” So he asked what it was to be, then? “I have a great fish-pond,” +said the King. “Thou must go to it to-morrow morning and clear it of +all mud until it is as bright as a mirror, and fill it with every kind +of fish.” The next morning the King gave him a glass shovel and said, +“The fish-pond must be done by six o’clock.” So he went away, and when +he came to the fish-pond he stuck his shovel in the mud and it broke in +two, then he stuck his hoe in the mud, and broke it also. Then he was +much troubled. At noon the youngest daughter brought him something to +eat, and asked him how he was getting on? So the King’s son said +everything was going very ill with him, and he would certainly have to +lose his head. “My tools have broken to pieces again.” “Oh,” said she, +“thou must just come and eat something, and then thou wilt be in +another frame of mind.” “No,” said he, “I cannot eat, I am far too +unhappy for that!” Then she gave him many good words until at last he +came and ate something. Then she combed his hair again, and he fell +asleep, so once more she took her handkerchief, tied a knot in it, and +struck the ground thrice with the knot, and said, “Earth-workers, come +forth.” In a moment a great many little earth-men came and asked what +she desired, and she told them that in three hours’ time, they must +have the fish-pond entirely cleaned out, and it must be so clear that +people could see themselves reflected in it, and every kind of fish +must be in it. The little earth-men went away and summoned all their +kindred to help them, and in two hours it was done. Then they returned +to her and said, “We have done as thou hast commanded.” The King’s +daughter took the handkerchief and once more struck thrice on the +ground with it, and said, “Earth-workers, go home again.” Then they all +went away. + +When the King’s son awoke the fish-pond was done. Then the King’s +daughter went away also, and told him that when it was six he was to +come to the house. When he arrived at the house the King asked, “Hast +thou got the fish-pond done?” “Yes,” said the King’s son. That was very +good. + +When they were again sitting at table the King said, “Thou hast +certainly done the fish-pond, but I cannot give thee my daughter yet; +thou must just do one thing more.” “What is that, then?” asked the +King’s son. The King said he had a great mountain on which there was +nothing but briars which must all be cut down, and at the top of it the +youth must build up a great castle, which must be as strong as could be +conceived, and all the furniture and fittings belonging to a castle +must be inside it. And when he arose next morning the King gave him a +glass axe and a glass gimlet with him, and he was to have all done by +six o’clock. As he was cutting down the first briar with the axe, it +broke off short, and so small that the pieces flew all round about, and +he could not use the gimlet either. Then he was quite miserable, and +waited for his dearest to see if she would not come and help him in his +need. When it was mid-day she came and brought him something to eat. He +went to meet her and told her all, and ate something, and let her comb +his hair and fell asleep. Then she once more took the knot and struck +the earth with it, and said, “Earth-workers, come forth!” Then came +once again numbers of earth-men, and asked what her desire was. Then +said she, “In the space of three hours they must cut down the whole of +the briars, and a castle must be built on the top of the mountain that +must be as strong as any one could conceive, and all the furniture that +pertains to a castle must be inside it.” They went away, and summoned +their kindred to help them and when the time was come, all was ready. +Then they came to the King’s daughter and told her so, and the King’s +daughter took her handkerchief and struck thrice on the earth with it, +and said, “Earth-workers, go home,” on which they all disappeared. When +therefore the King’s son awoke and saw everything done, he was as happy +as a bird in air. + +When it had struck six, they went home together. Then said the King, +“Is the castle ready?” “Yes,” said the King’s son. When they sat down +to table, the King said, “I cannot give away my youngest daughter until +the two eldest are married.” Then the King’s son and the King’s +daughter were quite troubled, and the King’s son had no idea what to +do. But he went by night to the King’s daughter and ran away with her. +When they had got a little distance away, the King’s daughter peeped +round and saw her father behind her. “Oh,” said she, “what are we to +do? My father is behind us, and will take us back with him. I will at +once change thee into a briar, and myself into a rose, and I will +shelter myself in the midst of the bush.” When the father reached the +place, there stood a briar with one rose on it, then he was about to +gather the rose, when the thorn came and pricked his finger so that he +was forced to go home again. His wife asked why he had not brought +their daughter back with him? So he said he had nearly got up to her, +but that all at once he had lost sight of her, and a briar with one +rose was growing on the spot. + +Then said the Queen, “If thou hadst but gathered the rose, the briar +would have been forced to come too.” So he went back again to fetch the +rose, but in the meantime the two were already far over the plain, and +the King ran after them. Then the daughter once more looked round and +saw her father coming, and said, “Oh, what shall we do now? I will +instantly change thee into a church and myself into a priest, and I +will stand up in the pulpit, and preach.” When the King got to the +place, there stood a church, and in the pulpit was a priest preaching. +So he listened to the sermon, and then went home again. + +Then the Queen asked why he had not brought their daughter with him, +and he said, “Nay, I ran a long time after her, and just as I thought I +should soon overtake her, a church was standing there and a priest was +in the pulpit preaching.” “Thou shouldst just have brought the priest,” +said his wife, “and then the church would soon have come. It is no use +to send thee, I must go there myself.” When she had walked for some +time, and could see the two in the distance, the King’s daughter peeped +round and saw her mother coming, and said, “Now we are undone, for my +mother is coming herself: I will immediately change thee into a +fish-pond and myself into a fish. + +When the mother came to the place, there was a large fish-pond, and in +the midst of it a fish was leaping about and peeping out of the water, +and it was quite merry. She wanted to catch the fish, but she could +not. Then she was very angry, and drank up the whole pond in order to +catch the fish, but it made her so ill that she was forced to vomit, +and vomited the whole pond out again. Then she cried, “I see very well +that nothing can be done now,” and said that now they might come back +to her. Then the King’s daughter went back again, and the Queen gave +her daughter three walnuts, and said, “With these thou canst help +thyself when thou art in thy greatest need.” So the young folks went +once more away together. And when they had walked quite ten miles, they +arrived at the castle from whence the King’s son came, and close by it +was a village. When they reached it, the King’s son said, “Stay here, +my dearest, I will just go to the castle, and then will I come with a +carriage and with attendants to fetch thee.” + +When he got to the castle they all rejoiced greatly at having the +King’s son back again, and he told them he had a bride who was now in +the village, and they must go with the carriage to fetch her. Then they +harnessed the horses at once, and many attendants seated themselves +outside the carriage. When the King’s son was about to get in, his +mother gave him a kiss, and he forgot everything which had happened, +and also what he was about to do. On this his mother ordered the horses +to be taken out of the carriage again, and everyone went back into the +house. But the maiden sat in the village and watched and watched, and +thought he would come and fetch her, but no one came. Then the King’s +daughter took service in the mill which belonged to the castle, and was +obliged to sit by the pond every afternoon and clean the tubs. + +And the Queen came one day on foot from the castle, and went walking by +the pond, and saw the well-grown maiden sitting there, and said, “What +a fine strong girl that is! She pleases me well!” Then she and all with +her looked at the maid, but no one knew her. So a long time passed by +during which the maiden served the miller honorably and faithfully. In +the meantime, the Queen had sought a wife for her son, who came from +quite a distant part of the world. When the bride came, they were at +once to be married. And many people hurried together, all of whom +wanted to see everything. Then the girl said to the miller that he +might be so good as to give her leave to go also. So the miller said, +“Yes, do go there.” When she was about to go, she opened one of the +three walnuts, and a beautiful dress lay inside it. She put it on, and +went into the church and stood by the altar. Suddenly came the bride +and bridegroom, and seated themselves before the altar, and when the +priest was just going to bless them, the bride peeped half round and +saw the maiden standing there. Then she stood up again, and said she +would not be given away until she also had as beautiful a dress as that +lady there. So they went back to the house again, and sent to ask the +lady if she would sell that dress. No, she would not sell it, but the +bride might perhaps earn it. Then the bride asked her how she was to do +this? Then the maiden said if she might sleep one night outside the +King’s son’s door, the bride might have what she wanted. So the bride +said, “Yes, she was willing to do that.” But the servants were ordered +to give the King’s son a sleeping-drink, and then the maiden laid +herself down on the threshold and lamented all night long. She had had +the forest cut down for him, she had had the fish-pond cleaned out for +him, she had had the castle built for him, she had changed him into a +briar, and then into a church, and at last into a fish-pond, and yet he +had forgotten her so quickly. The King’s son did not hear one word of +it, but the servants had been awakened, and had listened to it, and had +not known what it could mean. The next morning when they were all up, +the bride put on the dress, and went away to the church with the +bridegroom. In the meantime the maiden opened the second walnut, and a +still more beautiful dress was inside it. She put it on, and went and +stood by the altar in the church, and everything happened as it had +happened the time before. And the maiden again lay all night on the +threshold which led to the chamber of the King’s son, and the servant +was once more to give him a sleeping-drink. The servant, however, went +to him and gave him something to keep him awake, and then the King’s +son went to bed, and the miller’s maiden bemoaned herself as before on +the threshold of the door, and told of all that she had done. All this +the King’s son heard, and was sore troubled, and what was past came +back to him. Then he wanted to go to her, but his mother had locked the +door. The next morning, however, he went at once to his beloved, and +told her everything which had happened to him, and prayed her not to be +angry with him for having forgotten her. Then the King’s daughter +opened the third walnut, and within it was a still more magnificent +dress, which she put on, and went with her bridegroom to church, and +numbers of children came who gave them flowers, and offered them gay +ribbons to bind about their feet, and they were blessed by the priest, +and had a merry wedding. But the false mother and the bride had to +depart. And the mouth of the person who last told all this is still +warm. + + + +114 The Cunning Little Tailor + +There was once on a time a princess who was extremely proud. If a wooer +came she gave him some riddle to guess, and if he could not find it +out, he was sent contemptuously away. She let it be made known also +that whosoever solved her riddle should marry her, let him be who he +might. At length, therefore, three tailors fell in with each other, the +two eldest of whom thought they had done so many dexterous bits of work +successfully that they could not fail to succeed in this also; the +third was a little useless land-louper, who did not even know his +trade, but thought he must have some luck in this venture, for where +else was it to come from? Then the two others said to him, “Just stay +at home; thou canst not do much with thy little bit of understanding.” +The little tailor, however, did not let himself be discouraged, and +said he had set his head to work about this for once, and he would +manage well enough, and he went forth as if the whole world were his. + +They all three announced themselves to the princess, and said she was +to propound her riddle to them, and that the right persons were now +come, who had understandings so fine that they could be threaded in a +needle. Then said the princess, “I have two kinds of hair on my head, +of what color is it?” “If that be all,” said the first, “it must be +black and white, like the cloth which is called pepper and salt.” The +princess said, “Wrongly guessed; let the second answer.” Then said the +second, “If it be not black and white, then it is brown and red, like +my father’s company coat.” “Wrongly guessed,” said the princess, “let +the third give the answer, for I see very well he knows it for +certain.” Then the little tailor stepped boldly forth and said, “The +princess has a silver and a golden hair on her head, and those are the +two different colors.” When the princess heard that, she turned pale +and nearly fell down with terror, for the little tailor had guessed her +riddle, and she had firmly believed that no man on earth could discover +it. When her courage returned she said, “Thou hast not won me yet by +that; there is still something else that thou must do. Below, in the +stable is a bear with which thou shalt pass the night, and when I get +up in the morning if thou art still alive, thou shalt marry me.” She +expected, however, she should thus get rid of the tailor, for the bear +had never yet left any one alive who had fallen into his clutches. The +little tailor did not let himself be frightened away, but was quite +delighted, and said, “Boldly ventured is half won.” + +When therefore the evening came, our little tailor was taken down to +the bear. The bear was about to set at the little fellow at once, and +give him a hearty welcome with his paws: “Softly, softly,” said the +little tailor, “I will soon make thee quiet.” Then quite composedly, +and as if he had not an anxiety in the world, he took some nuts out of +his pocket, cracked them, and ate the kernels. When the bear saw that, +he was seized with a desire to have some nuts too. The tailor felt in +his pockets, and reached him a handful; they were, however, not nuts, +but pebbles. The bear put them in his mouth, but could get nothing out +of them, let him bite as he would. “Eh!” thought he, “what a stupid +blockhead I am! I cannot even crack a nut!” and then he said to the +tailor, “Here, crack me the nuts.” “There, see what a stupid fellow +thou art!” said the little tailor, “to have such a great mouth, and not +be able to crack a small nut!” Then he took the pebble and nimbly put a +nut in his mouth in the place of it, and crack, it was in two! “I must +try the thing again,” said the bear; “when I watch you, I then think I +ought to be able to do it too.” So the tailor once more gave him a +pebble, and the bear tried and tried to bite into it with all the +strength of his body. But no one will imagine that he accomplished it. +When that was over, the tailor took out a violin from beneath his coat, +and played a piece of it to himself. When the bear heard the music, he +could not help beginning to dance, and when he had danced a while, the +thing pleased him so well that he said to the little tailor, “Hark you, +is the fiddle heavy?” “Light enough for a child. Look, with the left +hand I lay my fingers on it, and with the right I stroke it with the +bow, and then it goes merrily, hop sa sa vivallalera!” “So,” said the +bear; “fiddling is a thing I should like to understand too, that I +might dance whenever I had a fancy. What dost thou think of that? Wilt +thou give me lessons?” “With all my heart,” said the tailor, “if thou +hast a talent for it. But just let me see thy claws, they are terribly +long, I must cut thy nails a little.” Then a vise was brought, and the +bear put his claws in it, and the little tailor screwed it tight, and +said, “Now wait until I come with the scissors,” and he let the bear +growl as he liked, and lay down in the corner on a bundle of straw, and +fell asleep. + +When the princess heard the bear growling so fiercely during the night, +she believed nothing else but that he was growling for joy, and had +made an end of the tailor. In the morning she arose careless and happy, +but when she peeped into the stable, the tailor stood gaily before her, +and was as healthy as a fish in water. Now she could not say another +word against the wedding because she had given a promise before every +one, and the King ordered a carriage to be brought in which she was to +drive to church with the tailor, and there she was to be married. When +they had got into the carriage, the two other tailors, who had false +hearts and envied him his good fortune, went into the stable and +unscrewed the bear again. The bear in great fury ran after the +carriage. The princess heard him snorting and growling; she was +terrified, and she cried, “Ah, the bear is behind us and wants to get +thee!” The tailor was quick and stood on his head, stuck his legs out +of the window, and cried, “Dost thou see the vise? If thou dost not be +off thou shalt be put into it again.” When the bear saw that, he turned +round and ran away. The tailor drove quietly to church, and the +princess was married to him at once, and he lived with her as happy as +a woodlark. Whosoever does not believe this, must pay a thaler. + + + +115 The Bright Sun Brings It to Light + +A tailor’s apprentice was travelling about the world in search of work, +and at one time he could find none, and his poverty was so great that +he had not a farthing to live on. Presently he met a Jew on the road, +and as he thought he would have a great deal of money about him, the +tailor thrust God out of his heart, fell on the Jew, and said, “Give me +thy money, or I will strike thee dead.” Then said the Jew, “Grant me my +life, I have no money but eight farthings.” But the tailor said, “Money +thou hast; and it shall be produced,” and used violence and beat him +until he was near death. And when the Jew was dying, the last words he +said were, “The bright sun will bring it to light,” and thereupon he +died. The tailor’s apprentice felt in his pockets and sought for money, +but he found nothing but eight farthings, as the Jew had said. Then he +took him up and carried him behind a clump of trees, and went onwards +to seek work. After he had traveled about a long while, he got work in +a town with a master who had a pretty daughter, with whom he fell in +love, and he married her, and lived in good and happy wedlock. + +After a long time when he and his wife had two children, the wife’s +father and mother died, and the young people kept house alone. One +morning, when the husband was sitting on the table before the window, +his wife brought him his coffee, and when he had poured it out into the +saucer, and was just going to drink, the sun shone on it and the +reflection gleamed hither and thither on the wall above, and made +circles on it. Then the tailor looked up and said, “Yes, it would like +very much to bring it to light, and cannot!” The woman said, “Oh, dear +husband, and what is that, then?” “What dost thou mean by that?” He +answered, “I must not tell thee.” But she said, “If thou lovest me, +thou must tell me,” and used her most affectionate words, and said that +no one should ever know it, and left him no rest. Then he told her how +years ago, when he was travelling about seeking work and quite worn out +and penniless, he had killed a Jew, and that in the last agonies of +death, the Jew had spoken the words, “The bright sun will bring it to +light.” And now, the sun had just wanted to bring it to light, and had +gleamed and made circles on the wall, but had not been able to do it. +After this, he again charged her particularly never to tell this, or he +would lose his life, and she did promise. When however, he had sat down +to work again, she went to her great friend and confided the story to +her, but she was never to repeat it to any human being, but before two +days were over, the whole town knew it, and the tailor was brought to +trial, and condemned. And thus, after all, the bright sun did bring it +to light. + + + +116 The Blue Light + +There was once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the +King faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no longer +because of the many wounds which he had received. The King said to him, +“Thou mayst return to thy home, I need thee no longer, and thou wilt +not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who renders me +service for them.” Then the soldier did not know how to earn a living, +went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until in the +evening he entered a forest. When darkness came on, he saw a light, +which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a witch. “Do +give me one night’s lodging, and a little to eat and drink,” said he to +her, “or I shall starve.” “Oho!” she answered, “who gives anything to a +run-away soldier? Yet will I be compassionate, and take you in, if you +will do what I wish.” “What do you wish?” said the soldier. “That you +should dig all round my garden for me, tomorrow.” The soldier +consented, and next day labored with all his strength, but could not +finish it by the evening. “I see well enough,” said the witch, “that +you can do no more to-day, but I will keep you yet another night, in +payment for which you must to-morrow chop me a load of wood, and make +it small.” The soldier spent the whole day in doing it, and in the +evening the witch proposed that he should stay one night more. +“To-morrow, you shall only do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind +my house, there is an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it +burns blue, and never goes out, and you shall bring it up again for +me.” Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a +basket. He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him up +again. She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she +stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from +him. “No,” said he, perceiving her evil intention, “I will not give +thee the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground.” The +witch fell into a passion, let him down again into the well, and went +away. + +The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the blue +light went on burning, but of what use was that to him? He saw very +well that he could not escape death. He sat for a while very +sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his tobacco +pipe, which was still half full. “This shall be my last pleasure,” +thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and began to smoke. +When the smoke had circled about the cavern, suddenly a little black +dwarf stood before him, and said, “Lord, what are thy commands?” “What +commands have I to give thee?” replied the soldier, quite astonished. +“I must do everything thou biddest me,” said the little man. “Good,” +said the soldier; “then in the first place help me out of this well.” +The little man took him by the hand, and led him through an underground +passage, but he did not forget to take the blue light with him. On the +way the dwarf showed him the treasures which the witch had collected +and hidden there, and the soldier took as much gold as he could carry. +When he was above, he said to the little man, “Now go and bind the old +witch, and carry her before the judge.” In a short time she, with +frightful cries, came riding by, as swift as the wind on a wild +tom-cat, nor was it long after that before the little man re-appeared. +“It is all done,” said he, “and the witch is already hanging on the +gallows. What further commands has my lord?” inquired the dwarf. “At +this moment, none,” answered the soldier; “Thou canst return home, only +be at hand immediately, if I summon thee.” “Nothing more is needed than +that thou shouldst light thy pipe at the blue light, and I will appear +before thee at once.” Thereupon he vanished from his sight. + +The soldier returned to the town from which he had come. He went to the +best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the landlord +furnish him a room as handsomely as possible. When it was ready and the +soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the little black +mannikin and said, “I have served the King faithfully, but he has +dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to take my +revenge.” “What am I to do?” asked the little man. “Late at night, when +the King’s daughter is in bed, bring her here in her sleep, she shall +do servant’s work for me.” The mannikin said, “That is an easy thing +for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you, for if it is +discovered, you will fare ill.” When twelve o’clock had struck, the +door sprang open, and the mannikin carried in the princess. “Aha! art +thou there?” cried the soldier, “get to thy work at once! Fetch the +broom and sweep the chamber.” When she had done this, he ordered her to +come to his chair, and then he stretched out his feet and said, “Pull +off my boots for me,” and then he threw them in her face, and made her +pick them up again, and clean and brighten them. She, however, did +everything he bade her, without opposition, silently and with half-shut +eyes. When the first cock crowed, the mannikin carried her back to the +royal palace, and laid her in her bed. + +Next morning when the princess arose, she went to her father, and told +him that she had had a very strange dream. “I was carried through the +streets with the rapidity of lightning,” said she, “and taken into a +soldier’s room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant, sweep his +room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It was only a +dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done everything.” +“The dream may have been true,” said the King, “I will give thee a +piece of advice. Fill thy pocket full of peas, and make a small hole in +it, and then if thou art carried away again, they will fall out and +leave a track in the streets.” But unseen by the King, the mannikin was +standing beside him when he said that, and heard all. At night when the +sleeping princess was again carried through the streets, some peas +certainly did fall out of her pocket, but they made no track, for the +crafty mannikin had just before scattered peas in every street there +was. And again the princess was compelled to do servant’s work until +cock-crow. + +Next morning the King sent his people out to seek the track, but it was +all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting, picking up +peas, and saying, “It must have rained peas, last night.” “We must +think of something else,” said the King; “keep thy shoes on when thou +goest to bed, and before thou comest back from the place where thou art +taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it.” The +black mannikin heard this plot, and at night when the soldier again +ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told him +that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and that if +the shoe were found in the soldier’s house it would go badly with him. +“Do what I bid thee,” replied the soldier, and again this third night +the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but before she went +away, she hid her shoe under the bed. + +Next morning the King had the entire town searched for his daughter’s +shoe. It was found at the soldier’s, and the soldier himself, who at +the entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought +back, and thrown into prison. In his flight he had forgotten the most +valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had only one +ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was standing at the +window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of his comrades +passing by. The soldier tapped at the pane of glass, and when this man +came up, said to him, “Be so kind as to fetch me the small bundle I +have left lying in the inn, and I will give you a ducat for doing it.” +His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted. As soon as the +soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the black +mannikin. “Have no fear,” said the latter to his master. “Go +wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take +the blue light with you.” Next day the soldier was tried, and though he +had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death. When he was +led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the King. “What is it?” +asked the King. “That I may smoke one more pipe on my way.” “Thou mayst +smoke three,” answered the King, “but do not imagine that I will spare +thy life.” Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and lighted it at the +blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke had ascended, the +mannikin was there with a small cudgel in his hand, and said, “What +does my lord command?” “Strike down to earth that false judge there, +and his constable, and spare not the King who has treated me so ill.” +Then the mannikin fell on them like lightning, darting this way and +that way, and whosoever was so much as touched by his cudgel fell to +earth, and did not venture to stir again. The King was terrified; he +threw himself on the soldier’s mercy, and merely to be allowed to live +at all, gave him his kingdom for his own, and the princess to wife. + + + +117 The Wilful Child + +Once upon a time there was a child who was willful, and would not do at +her mother wished. For this reason God had no pleasure in her, and let +her become ill, and no doctor could do her any good, and in a short +time she lay on her death-bed. When she had been lowered into her +grave, and the earth was spread over her, all at once her arm came out +again, and stretched upwards, and when they had put it in and spread +fresh earth over it, it was all to no purpose, for the arm always came +out again. Then the mother herself was obliged to go to the grave, and +strike the arm with a rod, and when she had done that, it was drawn in, +and then at last the child had rest beneath the ground. + + + +118 The Three Army-Surgeons + +Three army-surgeons who thought they knew their art perfectly, were +travelling about the world, and they came to an inn where they wanted +to pass the night. The host asked whence they came, and whither they +were going? “We are roaming about the world and practising our art.” +“Just show me for once in a way what you can do,” said the host. Then +the first said he would cut off his hand, and put it on again early +next morning; the second said he would tear out his heart, and replace +it next morning; the third said he would cut out his eyes and heal them +again next morning. “If you can do that,” said the innkeeper, “you have +learnt everything.” They, however, had a salve, with which they rubbed +themselves, which joined parts together, and they carried the little +bottle in which it was, constantly with them. Then they cut the hand, +heart and eyes from their bodies as they had said they would, and laid +them all together on a plate, and gave it to the innkeeper. The +innkeeper gave it to a servant who was to set it in the cupboard, and +take good care of it. The girl, however, had a lover in secret, who was +a soldier. When therefore the innkeeper, the three army-surgeons, and +everyone else in the house were asleep, the soldier came and wanted +something to eat. The girl opened the cupboard and brought him some +food, and in her love forgot to shut the cupboard-door again; She +seated herself at the table by her lover, and they chattered away +together. While she sat so contentedly there, thinking of no ill luck, +the cat came creeping in, found the cupboard open, took the hand and +heart and eyes of the three army-surgeons, and ran off with them. When +the soldier had done eating, and the girl was taking away the things +and going to shut the cupboard she saw that the plate which the +innkeeper had given her to take care of, was empty. Then she said in a +fright to her lover, “Ah, miserable girl, what shall I do? The hand is +gone, the heart and the eyes are gone too, what will become of me in +the morning?” “Be easy,” said he, “I will help thee out of thy trouble +there is a thief hanging outside on the gallows, I will cut off his +hand. Which hand was it?” “The right one.” Then the girl gave him a +sharp knife, and he went and cut the poor sinner’s right hand off, and +brought it to her. After this he caught the cat and cut its eyes out, +and now nothing but the heart was wanting. “Have you not been killing, +and are not the dead pigs in the cellar?” said he. “Yes,” said the +girl. “That’s well,” said the soldier, and he went down and fetched a +pig’s heart. The girl placed all together on the plate, and put it in +the cupboard, and when after this her lover took leave of her, she went +quietly to bed. + +In the morning when the three army-surgeons got up, they told the girl +she was to bring them the plate on which the hand, heart, and eyes were +lying. Then she brought it out of the cupboard, and the first fixed the +thief’s hand on and smeared it with his salve, and it grew to his arm +directly. The second took the cat’s eyes and put them in his own head. +The third fixed the pig’s heart firm in the place where his own had +been, and the innkeeper stood by, admired their skill, and said he had +never yet seen such a thing as that done, and would sing their praises +and recommend them to everyone. Then they paid their bill, and +travelled farther. + +As they were on their way, the one with the pig’s heart did not stay +with them at all, but wherever there was a corner he ran to it, and +rooted about in it with his nose as pigs do. The others wanted to hold +him back by the tail of his coat, but that did no good; he tore himself +loose, and ran wherever the dirt was thickest. The second also behaved +very strangely; he rubbed his eyes, and said to the others, “Comrades, +what is the matter? I don’t see at all. Will one of you lead me, so +that I do not fall.” Then with difficulty they travelled on till +evening, when they reached another inn. They went into the bar +together, and there at a table in the corner sat a rich man counting +money. The one with the thief’s hand walked round about him, made a +sudden movement twice with his arm, and at last when the stranger +turned away, he snatched at the pile of money, and took a handful from +it. One of them saw this, and said, “Comrade, what art thou about? Thou +must not steal shame on thee!” “Eh,” said he, “but how can I stop +myself? My hand twitches, and I am forced to snatch things whether I +will or not.” + +After this, they lay down to sleep, and while they were lying there it +was so dark that no one could see his own hand. All at once the one +with the cat’s eyes awoke, aroused the others, and said. “Brothers, +just look up, do you see the white mice running about there?” The two +sat up, but could see nothing. Then said he, “Things are not right with +us, we have not got back again what is ours. We must return to the +innkeeper, he has deceived us.” They went back therefore, the next +morning, and told the host they had not got what was their own again; +that the first had a thief’s hand, the second cat’s eyes, and the third +a pig’s heart. The innkeeper said that the girl must be to blame for +that, and was going to call her, but when she had seen the three +coming, she had run out by the backdoor, and not come back. Then the +three said he must give them a great deal of money, or they would set +his house on fire. He gave them what he had, and whatever he could get +together, and the three went away with it. It was enough for the rest +of their lives, but they would rather have had their own proper organs. + + + +119 The Seven Swabians + +Seven Swabians were once together. The first was Master Schulz; the +second, Jackli; the third, Marli; the fourth, Jergli; the fifth, +Michal; the sixth, Hans; the seventh, Veitli: all seven had made up +their minds to travel about the world to seek adventures, and perform +great deeds. But in order that they might go in security and with arms +in their hands, they thought it would be advisable that they should +have one solitary, but very strong, and very long spear made for them. +This spear all seven of them took in their hands at once; in front +walked the boldest and bravest, and that was Master Schulz; all the +others followed in a row, and Veitli was the last. Then it came to pass +one day in the hay-making month (July), when they had walked a long +distance, and still had a long way to go before they reached the +village where they were to pass the night, that as they were in a +meadow in the twilight a great beetle or hornet flew by them from +behind a bush, and hummed in a menacing manner. Master Schulz was so +terrified that he all but dropped the spear, and a cold perspiration +broke out over his whole body. “Hark! hark!” cried he to his comrades, +“Good heavens! I hear a drum.” Jackli, who was behind him holding the +spear, and who perceived some kind of a smell, said, “Something is most +certainly going on, for I taste powder and matches.” At these words +Master Schulz began to take to flight, and in a trice jumped over a +hedge, but as he just happened to jump on to the teeth of a rake which +had been left lying there after the hay-making, the handle of it struck +against his face and gave him a tremendous blow. “Oh dear! Oh dear!” +screamed Master Schulz. “Take me prisoner; I surrender! I surrender!” +The other six all leapt over, one on the top of the other, crying, “If +you surrender, I surrender too! If you surrender, I surrender too!” At +length, as no enemy was there to bind and take them away, they saw that +they had been mistaken, and in order that the story might not be known, +and they be treated as fools and ridiculed, they all swore to each +other to hold their peace about it until one of them accidentally spoke +of it. Then they journeyed onwards. The second danger which they +survived cannot be compared with the first. Some days afterwards, their +path led them through a fallow-field where a hare was sitting sleeping +in the sun. Her ears were standing straight up, and her great glassy +eyes were wide open. All of them were alarmed at the sight of the +horrible wild beast, and they consulted together as to what it would be +the least dangerous to do. For if they were to run away, they knew that +the monster would pursue and swallow them whole. So they said, “We must +go through a great and dangerous struggle. Boldly ventured, is half +won,” and all seven grasped the spear, Master Schulz in front, and +Veitli behind. Master Schulz was always trying to keep the spear back, +but Veitli had become quite brave while behind, and wanted to dash +forward and cried, + +“Strike home, in every Swabian’s name, +Or else I wish ye may be lame.” + + +But Hans knew how to meet this, and said, + +“Thunder and lightning, it’s fine to prate, +But for dragon-hunting thou’rt aye too late.” + + +Michal cried, + +“Nothing is wanting, not even a hair, +Be sure the Devil himself is there.” + + +Then it was Jergli’s turn to speak, + +“If it be not, it’s at least his mother, +Or else it’s the Devil’s own step-brother.” + + +And now Marli had a bright thought, and said to Veitli, + +“Advance, Veitli, advance, advance, +And I behind will hold the lance.” + + +Veitli, however, did not attend to that, and Jackli said, + +“Tis Schulz’s place the first to be, +No one deserves that honor but he.” + + +Then Master Schulz plucked up his courage, and said, gravely, + +“Then let us boldly advance to the fight, +And thus we shall show our valour and might.” + + +Hereupon they all together set on the dragon. Master Schulz crossed +himself and prayed for God’s assistance, but as all this was of no +avail, and he was getting nearer and nearer to the enemy, he screamed +“Oho! oho! ho! ho! ho!” in the greatest anguish. This awakened the +hare, which in great alarm darted swiftly away. When Master Schulz saw +her thus flying from the field of battle, he cried in his joy. + +“Quick, Veitli, quick, look there, look there, +The monster’s nothing but a hare!” + + +But the Swabian allies went in search of further adventures, and came +to the Moselle, a mossy, quiet, deep river, over which there are few +bridges, and which in many places people have to cross in boats. As the +seven Swabians did not know this, they called to a man who was working +on the opposite side of the river, to know how people contrived to get +across. The distance and their way of speaking made the man unable to +understand what they wanted, and he said “What? what?” in the way +people speak in the neighborhood of Treves. Master Schulz thought he +was saying, “Wade, wade through the water,” and as he was the first, +began to set out and went into the moselle. It was not long before he +sank in the mud and the deep waves which drove against him, but his hat +was blown on the opposite shore by the wind, and a frog sat down beside +it, and croaked “Wat, wat, wat.” The other six on the opposite side +heard that, and said, “Oho, comrades, Master Schulz is calling us; if +he can wade across, why cannot we?” So they all jumped into the water +together in a great hurry, and were drowned, and thus one frog took the +lives of all six of them, and not one of the Swabian allies ever +reached home again. + + + +120 The Three Apprentices + +There were once three apprentices, who had agreed to keep always +together while travelling, and always to work in the same town. At one +time, however, their masters had no more work to give them, so that at +last they were in rags, and had nothing to live on. Then one of them +said, “What shall we do? We cannot stay here any longer, we will travel +once more, and if we do not find any work in the town we go to, we will +arrange with the innkeeper there, that we are to write and tell him +where we are staying, so that we can always have news of each other, +and then we will separate.” And that seemed best to the others also. +They went forth, and met on the way a richly-dressed man who asked who +they were. “We are apprentices looking for work; Up to this time we +have kept together, but if we cannot find anything to do we are going +to separate.” “There is no need for that,” said the man, “if you will +do what I tell you, you shall not want for gold or for work; nay, you +shall become great lords, and drive in your carriages!” One of them +said, “If our souls and salvation be not endangered, we will certainly +do it.” “They will not,” replied the man, “I have no claim on you.” One +of the others had, however, looked at his feet, and when he saw a +horse’s foot and a man’s foot, he did not want to have anything to do +with him. The Devil, however, said, “Be easy, I have no designs on you, +but on another soul, which is half my own already, and whose measure +shall but run full.” As they were now secure, they consented, and the +Devil told them what he wanted. The first was to answer, “All three of +us,” to every question; the second was to say, “For money,” and the +third, “And quite right too!” They were always to say this, one after +the other, but they were not to say one word more, and if they +disobeyed this order, all their money would disappear at once, but so +long as they observed it, their pockets would always be full. As a +beginning, he at once gave them as much as they could carry, and told +them to go to such and such an inn when they got to the town. They went +to it, and the innkeeper came to meet them, and asked if they wished +for anything to eat? The first replied, “All three of us.” “Yes,” said +the host, “that is what I mean.” The second said, “For money.” “Of +course,” said the host. The third said, “And quite right too!” +“Certainly it is right,” said the host. + +Good meat and drink were now brought to them, and they were well waited +on. After the dinner came the payment, and the innkeeper gave the bill +to the one who said, “All three of us,” the second said, “For money,” +and the third, “and quite right too!” “Indeed it is right,” said the +host, “all three pay, and without money I can give nothing.” They, +however, paid still more than he had asked. The lodgers, who were +looking on, said, “These people must be mad.” “Yes, indeed they are,” +said the host, “they are not very wise.” So they stayed some time in +the inn, and said nothing else but, “All three of us,” “For money,” and +“And quite right too!” But they saw and knew all that was going on. It +so happened that a great merchant came with a large sum of money, and +said, “Sir host, take care of my money for me, here are three crazy +apprentices who might steal it from me.” The host did as he was asked. +As he was carrying the trunk into his room, he felt that it was heavy +with gold. Thereupon he gave the three apprentices a lodging below, but +the merchant came up-stairs into a separate apartment. When it was +midnight, and the host thought that all were asleep, he came with his +wife, and they had an axe and struck the rich merchant dead; and after +they had murdered him they went to bed again. When it was day there was +a great outcry; the merchant lay dead in bed bathed in blood. All the +guests ran at once but the host said, “The three crazy apprentices have +done this;” the lodgers confirmed it, and said, “It can have been no +one else.” The innkeeper, however, had them called, and said to them, +“Have you killed the merchant?” “All three of us,” said the first, “For +money,” said the second; and the third added, “And quite right too!” +“There now, you hear,” said the host, “they confess it themselves.” +They were taken to prison, therefore, and were to be tried. When they +saw that things were going so seriously, they were after all afraid, +but at night the Devil came and said, “Bear it just one day longer, and +do not play away your luck, not one hair of your head shall be hurt.” + +The next morning they were led to the bar, and the judge said, “Are you +the murderers?” “All three of us.” “Why did you kill the merchant?” +“For money.” “You wicked wretches, you have no horror of your sins?” +“And quite right too!” “They have confessed, and are still stubborn,” +said the judge, “lead them to death instantly.” So they were taken out, +and the host had to go with them into the circle. When they were taken +hold of by the executioner’s men, and were just going to be led up to +the scaffold where the headsman was standing with naked sword, a coach +drawn by four blood-red chestnut horses came up suddenly, driving so +fast that fire flashed from the stones, and someone made signs from the +window with a white handkerchief. Then said the headsman, “It is a +pardon coming,” and “Pardon! pardon!” was called from the carriage +also. Then the Devil stepped out as a very noble gentleman, beautifully +dressed, and said, “You three are innocent; you may now speak, make +known what you have seen and heard.” Then said the eldest, “We did not +kill the merchant, the murderer is standing there in the circle,” and +he pointed to the innkeeper. “In proof of this, go into his cellar, +where many others whom he has killed are still hanging.” Then the judge +sent the executioner’s men thither, and they found it was as the +apprentices said, and when they had informed the judge of this, he +caused the innkeeper to be led up, and his head was cut off. Then said +the Devil to the three, “Now I have got the soul which I wanted to +have, and you are free, and have money for the rest of your lives.” + + + +121 The King’s Son Who Feared Nothing + +There was once a King’s son, who was no longer content to stay at home +in his father’s house, and as he had no fear of anything, he thought, +“I will go forth into the wide world, there the time will not seem long +to me, and I shall see wonders enough.” So he took leave of his +parents, and went forth, and on and on from morning till night, and +whichever way his path led it was the same to him. It came to pass that +he got to the house of a giant, and as he was so tired he sat down by +the door and rested. And as he let his eyes roam here and there, he saw +the giant’s playthings lying in the yard. These were a couple of +enormous balls, and nine-pins as tall as a man. After a while he had a +fancy to set the nine-pins up and then rolled the balls at them, and +screamed and cried out when the nine-pins fell, and had a merry time of +it. The giant heard the noise, stretched his head out of the window, +and saw a man who was not taller than other men, and yet played with +his nine-pins. “Little worm,” cried he, “why art thou playing with my +balls? Who gave thee strength to do it?” The King’s son looked up, saw +the giant, and said, “Oh, thou blockhead, thou thinkest indeed that +thou only hast strong arms, I can do everything I want to do.” The +giant came down and watched the bowling with great admiration, and +said, “Child of man, if thou art one of that kind, go and bring me an +apple of the tree of life.” “What dost thou want with it?” said the +King’s son. “I do not want the apple for myself,” answered the giant, +“but I have a betrothed bride who wishes for it. I have travelled far +about the world and cannot find the tree.” “I will soon find it,” said +the King’s son, “and I do not know what is to prevent me from getting +the apple down.” The giant said, “Thou really believest it to be so +easy! The garden in which the tree stands is surrounded by an iron +railing, and in front of the railing lie wild beasts, each close to the +other, and they keep watch and let no man go in.” “They will be sure to +let me in,” said the King’s son. “Yes, but even if thou dost get into +the garden, and seest the apple hanging to the tree, it is still not +thine; a ring hangs in front of it, through which any one who wants to +reach the apple and break it off, must put his hand, and no one has yet +had the luck to do it.” “That luck will be mine,” said the King’s son. + +Then he took leave of the giant, and went forth over mountain and +valley, and through plains and forests, until at length he came to the +wondrous garden. + +The beasts lay round about it, but they had put their heads down and +were asleep. Moreover, they did not awake when he went up to them, so +he stepped over them, climbed the fence, and got safely into the +garden. There, in the very middle of it, stood the tree of life, and +the red apples were shining upon the branches. He climbed up the trunk +to the top, and as he was about to reach out for an apple, he saw a +ring hanging before it; but he thrust his hand through that without any +difficulty, and gathered the apple. The ring closed tightly on his arm, +and all at once he felt a prodigious strength flowing through his +veins. When he had come down again from the tree with the apple, he +would not climb over the fence, but grasped the great gate, and had no +need to shake it more than once before it sprang open with a loud +crash. Then he went out, and the lion which had been lying down before, +was awake and sprang after him, not in rage and fierceness, but +following him humbly as its master. + +The King’s son took the giant the apple he had promised him, and said, +“Seest thou, I have brought it without difficulty.” The giant was glad +that his desire had been so soon satisfied, hastened to his bride, and +gave her the apple for which she had wished. She was a beautiful and +wise maiden, and as she did not see the ring on his arm, she said, “I +shall never believe that thou hast brought the apple, until I see the +ring on thine arm.” The giant said, “I have nothing to do but go home +and fetch it,” and thought it would be easy to take away by force from +the weak man, what he would not give of his own free will. He therefore +demanded the ring from him, but the King’s son refused it. “Where the +apple is, the ring must be also,” said the giant; “if thou wilt not +give it of thine own accord, thou must fight with me for it.” + +They wrestled with each other for a long time, but the giant could not +get the better of the King’s son, who was strengthened by the magical +power of the ring. Then the giant thought of a stratagem, and said, “I +have got warm with fighting, and so hast thou. We will bathe in the +river, and cool ourselves before we begin again.” The King’s son, who +knew nothing of falsehood, went with him to the water, and pulled off +with his clothes the ring also from his arm, and sprang into the river. +The giant instantly snatched the ring, and ran away with it, but the +lion, which had observed the theft, pursued the giant, tore the ring +out of his hand, and brought it back to its master. Then the giant +placed himself behind an oak-tree, and while the King’s son was busy +putting on his clothes again, surprised him, and put both his eyes out. + +And now the unhappy King’s son stood there, and was blind and knew not +how to help himself. Then the giant came back to him, took him by the +hand as if he were someone who wanted to guide him, and led him to the +top of a high rock. There he left him standing, and thought, “Just two +steps more, and he will fall down and kill himself, and I can take the +ring from him.” But the faithful lion had not deserted its master; it +held him fast by the clothes, and drew him gradually back again. When +the giant came and wanted to rob the dead man, he saw that his cunning +had been in vain. “Is there no way, then, of destroying a weak child of +man like that?” said he angrily to himself, and seized the King’s son +and led him back again to the precipice by another way, but the lion +which saw his evil design, helped its master out of danger here also. +When they had got close to the edge, the giant let the blind man’s hand +drop, and was going to leave him behind alone, but the lion pushed the +giant so that he was thrown down and fell, dashed to pieces, on the +ground. + +The faithful animal again drew its master back from the precipice, and +guided him to a tree by which flowed a clear brook. The King’s son sat +down there, but the lion lay down, and sprinkled the water in his face +with its paws. Scarcely had a couple of drops wetted the sockets of his +eyes, than he was once more able to see something, and remarked a +little bird flying quite close by, which wounded itself against the +trunk of a tree. On this it went down to the water and bathed itself +therein, and then it soared upwards and swept between the trees without +touching them, as if it had recovered its sight again. Then the King’s +son recognized a sign from God and stooped down to the water, and +washed and bathed his face in it. And when he arose he had his eyes +once more, brighter and clearer than they had ever been. + +The King’s son thanked God for his great mercy, and travelled with his +lion onwards through the world. And it came to pass that he arrived +before a castle which was enchanted. In the gateway stood a maiden of +beautiful form and fine face, but she was quite black. She spoke to him +and said, “Ah, if thou couldst but deliver me from the evil spell which +is thrown over me.” “What shall I do?” said the King’s son. The maiden +answered, “Thou must pass three nights in the great hall of this +enchanted castle, but thou must let no fear enter thy heart. When they +are doing their worst to torment thee, if thou bearest it without +letting a sound escape thee, I shall be free. Thy life they dare not +take.” Then said the King’s son, “I have no fear; with God’s help I +will try it.” So he went gaily into the castle, and when it grew dark +he seated himself in the large hall and waited. Everything was quiet, +however, till midnight, when all at once a great tumult began, and out +of every hole and corner came little devils. They behaved as if they +did not see him, seated themselves in the middle of the room, lighted a +fire, and began to gamble. When one of them lost, he said, “It is not +right; some one is here who does not belong to us; it is his fault that +I am losing.” “Wait, you fellow behind the stove, I am coming,” said +another. The screaming became still louder, so that no one could have +heard it without terror. The King’s son stayed sitting quite quietly, +and was not afraid; but at last the devils jumped up from the ground, +and fell on him, and there were so many of them that he could not +defend himself from them. They dragged him about on the floor, pinched +him, pricked him, beat him, and tormented him, but no sound escaped +from him. Towards morning they disappeared, and he was so exhausted +that he could scarcely move his limbs, but when day dawned the black +maiden came to him. She bore in her hand a little bottle wherein was +the water of life wherewith she washed him, and he at once felt all +pain depart and new strength flow through his veins. She said, “Thou +hast held out successfully for one night, but two more lie before +thee.” Then she went away again, and as she was going, he observed that +her feet had become white. The next night the devils came and began +their gambols anew. They fell on the King’s son, and beat him much more +severely than the night before, until his body was covered with wounds. +But as he bore all quietly, they were forced to leave him, and when +dawn appeared, the maiden came and healed him with the water of life. +And when she went away, he saw with joy that she had already become +white to the tips of her fingers. And now he had only one night more to +go through, but it was the worst. The hob-goblins came again: “Art thou +there still?” cried they, “thou shalt be tormented till thy breath +stops.” They pricked him and beat him, and threw him here and there, +and pulled him by the arms and legs as if they wanted to tear him to +pieces, but he bore everything, and never uttered a cry. At last the +devils vanished, but he lay fainting there, and did not stir, nor could +he raise his eyes to look at the maiden who came in, and sprinkled and +bathed him with the water of life. But suddenly he was freed from all +pain, and felt fresh and healthy as if he had awakened from sleep, and +when he opened his eyes he saw the maiden standing by him, snow-white, +and fair as day. “Rise,” said she, “and swing thy sword three times +over the stairs, and then all will be delivered.” And when he had done +that, the whole castle was released from enchantment, and the maiden +was a rich King’s daughter. The servants came and said that the table +was already set in the great hall, and dinner served up. Then they sat +down and ate and drank together, and in the evening the wedding was +solemnized with great rejoicings. + + + +122 Donkey Cabbages + +There was once a young huntsman who went into the forest to lie in +wait. He had a fresh and joyous heart, and as he was going thither, +whistling upon a leaf, an ugly old crone came up, who spoke to him and +said, “Good-day, dear huntsman, truly you are merry and contented, but +I am suffering from hunger and thirst, do give me an alms.” The +huntsman had compassion on the poor old creature, felt in his pocket, +and gave her what he could afford. He was then about to go further, but +the old woman stopped him and said, “Listen, dear huntsman, to what I +tell you; I will make you a present in return for your kindness. Go on +your way now, but in a little while you will come to a tree, whereon +nine birds are sitting which have a cloak in their claws, and are +plucking at it; take your gun and shoot into the midst of them, they +will let the cloak fall down to you, but one of the birds will be hurt, +and will drop down dead. Carry away the cloak, it is a wishing-cloak; +when you throw it over your shoulders, you only have to wish to be in a +certain place, and you will be there in the twinkling of an eye. Take +out the heart of the dead bird and swallow it whole, and every morning +early, when you get up, you will find a gold piece under your pillow.” +The huntsman thanked the wise woman, and thought to himself, “Those are +fine things that she has promised me, if all does but come true.” And +verily when he had walked about a hundred paces, he heard in the +branches above him such a screaming and twittering that he looked up +and saw there a crowd of birds who were tearing a piece of cloth about +with their beaks and claws, and tugging and fighting as if each wanted +to have it all to himself. “Well,” said the huntsman, “this is +wonderful, it has really come to pass just as the old wife foretold!” +and he took the gun from his shoulder, aimed and fired right into the +midst of them, so that the feathers flew about. The birds instantly +took to flight with loud outcries, but one dropped down dead, and the +cloak fell at the same time. Then the huntsman did as the old woman had +directed him, cut open the bird, sought the heart, swallowed it down, +and took the cloak home with him. + +Next morning, when he awoke, the promise occurred to him, and he wished +to see if it also had been fulfilled. When he lifted up the pillow, the +gold piece shone in his eyes, and next day he found another, and so it +went on, every time he got up. He gathered together a heap of gold, but +at last he thought, “Of what use is all my gold to me if I stay at +home? I will go forth and see the world.” + +He then took leave of his parents, buckled on his huntsman’s pouch and +gun, and went out into the world. It came to pass, that one day he +travelled through a dense forest, and when he came to the end of it, in +the plain before him stood a fine castle. An old woman was standing +with a wonderfully beautiful maiden, looking out of one of the windows. +The old woman, however, was a witch and said to the maiden, “There +comes one out of the forest, who has a wonderful treasure in his body, +we must filch it from him, my dear daughter, it is more suitable for us +than for him. He has a bird’s heart about him, by means of which a gold +piece lies every morning under his pillow.” She told her what she was +to do to get it, and what part she had to play, and finally threatened +her, and said with angry eyes, “And if you do not attend to what I say, +it will be the worse for you.” Now when the huntsman came nearer he +descried the maiden, and said to himself, “I have travelled about for +such a long time, I will take a rest for once, and enter that beautiful +castle. I have certainly money enough.” Nevertheless, the real reason +was that he had caught sight of the pretty girl. + +He entered the house, and was well received and courteously +entertained. Before long he was so much in love with the young witch +that he no longer thought of anything else, and only saw things as she +saw them, and did what she desired. The old woman then said, “Now we +must have the bird’s heart, he will never miss it.” She prepared a +drink, and when it was ready, poured it into a cup and gave it to the +maiden, who was to present it to the huntsman. She did so, saying, +“Now, my dearest, drink to me.” So he took the cup, and when he had +swallowed the draught, he brought up the heart of the bird. The girl +had to take it away secretly and swallow it herself, for the old woman +would have it so. Thenceforward he found no more gold under his pillow, +but it lay instead under that of the maiden, from whence the old woman +fetched it away every morning; but he was so much in love and so +befooled, that he thought of nothing else but of passing his time with +the girl. + +Then the old witch said, “We have the bird’s heart, but we must also +take the wishing-cloak away from him.” The girl answered, “We will +leave him that, he has lost his wealth.” The old woman was angry and +said, “Such a mantle is a wonderful thing, and is seldom to be found in +this world. I must and will have it!” She gave the girl several blows, +and said that if she did not obey, it should fare ill with her. So she +did the old woman’s bidding, placed herself at the window and looked on +the distant country, as if she were very sorrowful. The huntsman asked, +“Why dost thou stand there so sorrowfully?” “Ah, my beloved,” was her +answer, “over yonder lies the Garnet Mountain, where the precious +stones grow. I long for them so much that when I think of them, I feel +quite sad, but who can get them? Only the birds; they fly and can reach +them, but a man never.” “Hast thou nothing else to complain of?” said +the huntsman. “I will soon remove that burden from thy heart.” With +that he drew her under his mantle, wished himself on the Garnet +Mountain, and in the twinkling of an eye they were sitting on it +together. Precious stones were glistening on every side so that it was +a joy to see them, and together they gathered the finest and costliest +of them. Now, the old woman had, through her sorceries, contrived that +the eyes of the huntsman should become heavy. He said to the maiden, +“We will sit down and rest awhile, I am so tired that I can no longer +stand on my feet.” Then they sat down, and he laid his head in her lap, +and fell asleep. When he was asleep, she unfastened the mantle from his +shoulders, and wrapped herself in it, picked up the garnets and stones, +and wished herself back at home with them. + +But when the huntsman had had his sleep out and awoke, and perceived +that his sweetheart had betrayed him, and left him alone on the wild +mountain, he said, “Oh, what treachery there is in the world!” and sat +down there in care and sorrow, not knowing what to do. But the mountain +belonged to some wild and monstrous giants who dwelt thereon and lived +their lives there, and he had not sat long before he saw three of them +coming towards him, so he lay down as if he were sunk in a deep sleep. +Then the giants came up, and the first kicked him with his foot and +said, “What sort of an earth-worm is lying curled up here?” The second +said, “Step upon him and kill him.” But the third said, “That would +indeed be worth your while; just let him live, he cannot remain here; +and when he climbs higher, toward the summit of of the mountain, the +clouds will lay hold of him and bear him away.” So saying they passed +by. But the huntsman had paid heed to their words, and as soon as they +were gone, he rose and climbed up to the summit of the mountain, and +when he had sat there a while, a cloud floated towards him, caught him +up, carried him away, and travelled about for a long time in the +heavens. Then it sank lower, and let itself down on a great +cabbage-garden, girt round by walls, so that he came softly to the +ground on cabbages and vegetables. + +Then the huntsman looked about him and said, “If I had but something to +eat! I am so hungry, and my hunger will increase in course of time; but +I see here neither apples nor pears, nor any other sort of fruit, +everywhere nothing but cabbages,” but at length he thought, “At a pinch +I can eat some of the leaves, they do not taste particularly good, but +they will refresh me.” With that he picked himself out a fine head of +cabbage, and ate it, but scarcely had he swallowed a couple of +mouthfuls than he felt very strange and quite different. + +Four legs grew on him, a large head and two thick ears, and he saw with +horror that he was changed into an ass. Still as his hunger increased +every minute, and as the juicy leaves were suitable to his present +nature, he went on eating with great zest. At last he arrived at a +different kind of cabbage, but as soon as he had swallowed it, he again +felt a change, and reassumed his former human shape. + +Then the huntsman lay down and slept off his fatigue. When he awoke +next morning, he broke off one head of the bad cabbages and another of +the good ones, and thought to himself, “This shall help me to get my +own again and punish treachery.” Then he took the cabbages with him, +climbed over the wall, and went forth to seek for the castle of his +sweetheart. After wandering about for a couple of days he was lucky +enough to find it again. He dyed his face brown, so that his own mother +would not have known him; and begged for shelter: “I am so tired,” said +he, “that I can go no further.” The witch asked, “Who are you, +countryman, and what is your business?” “I am a King’s messenger, and +was sent out to seek the most delicious salad which grows beneath the +sun. I have even been so fortunate as to find it, and am carrying it +about with me; but the heat of the sun is so intense that the delicate +cabbage threatens to wither, and I do not know if I can carry it any +further.” + +When the old woman heard of the exquisite salad, she was greedy, and +said, “Dear countryman, let me just taste this wonderful salad.” “Why +not?” answered he, “I have brought two heads with me, and will give you +one of them,” and he opened his pouch and handed her the bad cabbage. +The witch suspected nothing amiss, and her mouth watered so for this +new dish that she herself went into the kitchen and dressed it. When it +was prepared she could not wait until it was set on the table, but took +a couple of leaves at once, and put them in her mouth, but hardly had +she swallowed them than she was deprived of her human shape, and she +ran out into the courtyard in the form of an ass. Presently the +maid-servant entered the kitchen, saw the salad standing there ready +prepared, and was about to carry it up; but on the way, according to +habit, she was seized by the desire to taste, and she ate a couple of +leaves. Instantly the magic power showed itself, and she likewise +became an ass and ran out to the old woman, and the dish of salad fell +to the ground. Meantime the messenger sat beside the beautiful girl, +and as no one came with the salad and she also was longing for it, she +said, “I don’t know what has become of the salad.” The huntsman +thought, “The salad must have already taken effect,” and said, “I will +go to the kitchen and inquire about it.” As he went down he saw the two +asses running about in the courtyard; the salad, however, was lying on +the ground. “All right,” said he, “the two have taken their portion,” +and he picked up the other leaves, laid them on the dish, and carried +them to the maiden. “I bring you the delicate food myself,” said he, +“in order that you may not have to wait longer.” Then she ate of it, +and was, like the others, immediately deprived of her human form, and +ran out into the courtyard in the shape of an ass. + +After the huntsman had washed his face, so that the transformed ones +could recognize him, he went down into the courtyard, and said, “Now +you shall receive the wages of your treachery,” and bound them +together, all three with one rope, and drove them along until he came +to a mill. He knocked at the window, the miller put out his head, and +asked what he wanted. “I have three unmanageable beasts,” answered he, +“which I don’t want to keep any longer. Will you take them in, and give +them food and stable room, and manage them as I tell you, and then I +will pay you what you ask.” The miller said, “Why not? But how am I to +manage them?” The huntsman then said that he was to give three beatings +and one meal daily to the old donkey, and that was the witch; one +beating and three meals to the younger one, which was the servant-girl; +and to the youngest, which was the maiden, no beatings and three meals, +for he could not bring himself to have the maiden beaten. After that he +went back into the castle, and found therein everything he needed. + +After a couple of days, the miller came and said he must inform him +that the old ass which had received three beatings and only one meal +daily was dead; “the two others,” he continued, “are certainly not +dead, and are fed three times daily, but they are so sad that they +cannot last much longer.” The huntsman was moved to pity, put away his +anger, and told the miller to drive them back again to him. And when +they came, he gave them some of the good salad, so that they became +human again. The beautiful girl fell on her knees before him, and said, +“Ah, my beloved, forgive me for the evil I have done you; my mother +drove me to it; it was done against my will, for I love you dearly. +Your wishing-cloak hangs in a cupboard, and as for the bird’s-heart I +will take a vomiting potion.” But he thought otherwise, and said, “Keep +it; it is all the same, for I will take thee for my true wife.” So the +wedding was celebrated, and they lived happily together until their +death. + + + +123 The Old Woman in the Wood + +A poor servant-girl was once travelling with the family with which she +was in service, through a great forest, and when they were in the midst +of it, robbers came out of the thicket, and murdered all they found. +All perished together except the girl, who had jumped out of the +carriage in a fright, and hidden herself behind a tree. When the +robbers had gone away with their booty, she came out and beheld the +great disaster. Then she began to weep bitterly, and said, “What can a +poor girl like me do now? I do not know how to get out of the forest, +no human being lives in it, so I must certainly starve.” She walked +about and looked for a road, but could find none. When it was evening +she seated herself under a tree, gave herself into God’s keeping, and +resolved to sit waiting there and not go away, let what might happen. +When, however, she had sat there for a while, a white dove came flying +to her with a little golden key in its mouth. It put the little key in +her hand, and said, “Dost thou see that great tree, therein is a little +lock, it opens with the tiny key, and there thou wilt find food enough, +and suffer no more hunger.” Then she went to the tree and opened it, +and found milk in a little dish, and white bread to break into it, so +that she could eat her fill. When she was satisfied, she said, “It is +now the time when the hens at home go to roost, I am so tired I could +go to bed too.” Then the dove flew to her again, and brought another +golden key in its bill, and said, “Open that tree there, and thou willt +find a bed.” So she opened it, and found a beautiful white bed, and she +prayed God to protect her during the night, and lay down and slept. In +the morning the dove came for the third time, and again brought a +little key, and said, “Open that tree there, and thou wilt find +clothes.” And when she opened it, she found garments beset with gold +and with jewels, more splendid than those of any king’s daughter. So +she lived there for some time, and the dove came every day and provided +her with all she needed, and it was a quiet good life. + +Once, however, the dove came and said, “Wilt thou do something for my +sake?” “With all my heart,” said the girl. Then said the little dove, +“I will guide thee to a small house; enter it, and inside it, an old +woman will be sitting by the fire and will say, ‘Good-day.’ But on thy +life give her no answer, let her do what she will, but pass by her on +the right side; further on, there is a door, which open, and thou wilt +enter into a room where a quantity of rings of all kinds are lying, +amongst which are some magnificent ones with shining stones; leave +them, however, where they are, and seek out a plain one, which must +likewise be amongst them, and bring it here to me as quickly as thou +canst.” The girl went to the little house, and came to the door. There +sat an old woman who stared when she saw her, and said, “Good-day my +child.” The girl gave her no answer, and opened the door. “Whither +away,” cried the old woman, and seized her by the gown, and wanted to +hold her fast, saying, “That is my house; no one can go in there if I +choose not to allow it.” But the girl was silent, got away from her, +and went straight into the room. Now there lay on the table an enormous +quantity of rings, which gleamed and glittered before her eyes. She +turned them over and looked for the plain one, but could not find it. +While she was seeking, she saw the old woman and how she was stealing +away, and wanting to get off with a bird-cage which she had in her +hand. So she went after her and took the cage out of her hand, and when +she raised it up and looked into it, a bird was inside which had the +plain ring in its bill. Then she took the ring, and ran quite joyously +home with it, and thought the little white dove would come and get the +ring, but it did not. Then she leant against a tree and determined to +wait for the dove, and, as she thus stood, it seemed just as if the +tree was soft and pliant, and was letting its branches down. And +suddenly the branches twined around her, and were two arms, and when +she looked round, the tree was a handsome man, who embraced and kissed +her heartily, and said, “Thou hast delivered me from the power of the +old woman, who is a wicked witch. She had changed me into a tree, and +every day for two hours I was a white dove, and so long as she +possessed the ring I could not regain my human form.” Then his servants +and his horses, who had likewise been changed into trees, were freed +from the enchantment also, and stood beside him. And he led them forth +to his kingdom, for he was a King’s son, and they married, and lived +happily. + + + +124 The Three Brothers + +There was once a man who had three sons, and nothing else in the world +but the house in which he lived. Now each of the sons wished to have +the house after his father’s death; but the father loved them all +alike, and did not know what to do; he did not wish to sell the house, +because it had belonged to his forefathers, else he might have divided +the money amongst them. At last a plan came into his head, and he said +to his sons, “Go into the world, and try each of you to learn a trade, +and, when you all come back, he who makes the best masterpiece shall +have the house.” + +The sons were well content with this, and the eldest determined to be a +blacksmith, the second a barber, and the third a fencing-master. They +fixed a time when they should all come home again, and then each went +his way. + +It chanced that they all found skilful masters, who taught them their +trades well. The blacksmith had to shoe the King’s horses, and he +thought to himself, “The house is mine, without doubt.” The barber only +shaved great people, and he too already looked upon the house as his +own. The fencing-master got many a blow, but he only bit his lip, and +let nothing vex him; “for,” said he to himself, “If you are afraid of a +blow, you’ll never win the house.” + +When the appointed time had gone by, the three brothers came back home +to their father; but they did not know how to find the best opportunity +for showing their skill, so they sat down and consulted together. As +they were sitting thus, all at once a hare came running across the +field. “Ah, ha, just in time!” said the barber. So he took his basin +and soap, and lathered away until the hare came up; then he soaped and +shaved off the hare’s whiskers whilst he was running at the top of his +speed, and did not even cut his skin or injure a hair on his body. +“Well done!” said the old man. “Your brothers will have to exert +themselves wonderfully, or the house will be yours.” + +Soon after, up came a nobleman in his coach, dashing along at full +speed. “Now you shall see what I can do, father,” said the blacksmith; +so away he ran after the coach, took all four shoes off the feet of one +of the horses whilst he was galloping, and put him on four new shoes +without stopping him. “You are a fine fellow, and as clever as your +brother,” said his father; “I do not know to which I ought to give the +house.” + +Then the third son said, “Father, let me have my turn, if you please;” +and, as it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword, and flourished it +backwards and forwards above his head so fast that not a drop fell upon +him. It rained still harder and harder, till at last it came down in +torrents; but he only flourished his sword faster and faster, and +remained as dry as if he were sitting in a house. When his father saw +this he was amazed, and said, “This is the master-piece, the house is +yours!” + +His brothers were satisfied with this, as was agreed beforehand; and, +as they loved one another very much, they all three stayed together in +the house, followed their trades, and, as they had learnt them so well +and were so clever, they earned a great deal of money. Thus they lived +together happily until they grew old; and at last, when one of them +fell sick and died, the two others grieved so sorely about it that they +also fell ill, and soon after died. And because they had been so +clever, and had loved one another so much, they were all laid in the +same grave. + + + +125 The Devil and his Grandmother + +There was a great war, and the King had many soldiers, but gave them +small pay, so small that they could not live upon it, so three of them +agreed among themselves to desert. One of them said to the others, “If +we are caught we shall be hanged on the gallows; how shall we manage +it?” Another said, “Look at that great cornfield, if we were to hide +ourselves there, no one could find us; the troops are not allowed to +enter it, and to-morrow they are to march away.” They crept into the +corn, only the troops did not march away, but remained lying all round +about it. They stayed in the corn for two days and two nights, and were +so hungry that they all but died, but if they had come out, their death +would have been certain. Then said they, “What is the use of our +deserting if we have to perish miserably here?” But now a fiery dragon +came flying through the air, and it came down to them, and asked why +they had concealed themselves there? They answered, “We are three +soldiers who have deserted because the pay was so bad, and now we shall +have to die of hunger if we stay here, or to dangle on the gallows if +we go out.” “If you will serve me for seven years,” said the dragon, “I +will convey you through the army so that no one shall seize you.” “We +have no choice and are compelled to accept,” they replied. Then the +dragon caught hold of them with his claws, and carried them away +through the air over the army, and put them down again on the earth far +from it; but the dragon was no other than the Devil. He gave them a +small whip and said, “Whip with it and crack it, and then as much gold +will spring up round about as you can wish for; then you can live like +great lords, keep horses, and drive your carriages, but when the seven +years have come to an end, you are my property.” Then he put before +them a book which they were all three forced to sign. “I will, however, +then set you a riddle,” said he, “and if you can guess that, you shall +be free, and released from my power.” Then the dragon flew away from +them, and they went away with their whip, had gold in plenty, ordered +themselves rich apparel, and travelled about the world. Wherever they +were they lived in pleasure and magnificence, rode on horseback, drove +in carriages, ate and drank, but did nothing wicked. The time slipped +quickly away, and when the seven years were coming to an end, two of +them were terribly anxious and alarmed; but the third took the affair +easily, and said, “Brothers, fear nothing, my head is sharp enough, I +shall guess the riddle.” They went out into the open country and sat +down, and the two pulled sorrowful faces. Then an aged woman came up to +them who inquired why they were so sad? “Alas!” said they, “how can +that concern you? After all, you cannot help us.” “Who knows?” said +she. “Confide your trouble to me.” So they told her that they had been +the Devil’s servants for nearly seven years, and that he had provided +them with gold as plentifully as if it had been blackberries, but that +they had sold themselves to him, and were forfeited to him, if at the +end of the seven years they could not guess a riddle. The old woman +said, “If you are to be saved, one of you must go into the forest, +there he will come to a fallen rock which looks like a little house, he +must enter that, and then he will obtain help.” The two melancholy ones +thought to themselves, “That will still not save us,” and stayed where +they were, but the third, the merry one, got up and walked on in the +forest until he found the rock-house. In the little house, however, a +very aged woman was sitting, who was the Devil’s grandmother, and asked +the soldier where he came from, and what he wanted there? He told her +everything that had happened, and as he pleased her well, she had pity +on him, and said she would help him. She lifted up a great stone which +lay above a cellar, and said, “Conceal thyself there, thou canst hear +everything that is said here; only sit still, and do not stir. When the +dragon comes, I will question him about the riddle, he tells everything +to me, so listen carefully to his answer.” At twelve o’clock at night, +the dragon came flying thither, and asked for his dinner. The +grandmother laid the table, and served up food and drink, so that he +was pleased, and they ate and drank together. In the course of +conversation, she asked him what kind of a day he had had, and how many +souls he had got? “Nothing went very well to-day,” he answered, “but I +have laid hold of three soldiers, I have them safe.” “Indeed! three +soldiers, that’s something like, but they may escape you yet.” The +Devil said mockingly, “They are mine! I will set them a riddle, which +they will never in this world be able to guess!” “What riddle is that?” +she inquired. “I will tell you. In the great North Sea lies a dead +dog-fish, that shall be your roast meat, and the rib of a whale shall +be your silver spoon, and a hollow old horse’s hoof shall be your +wine-glass.” When the Devil had gone to bed, the old grandmother raised +up the stone, and let out the soldier. “Hast thou paid particular +attention to everything?” “Yes,” said he, “I know enough, and will +contrive to save myself.” Then he had to go back another way, through +the window, secretly and with all speed to his companions. He told them +how the Devil had been overreached by the old grandmother, and how he +had learned the answer to the riddle from him. Then they were all +joyous, and of good cheer, and took the whip and whipped so much gold +for themselves that it ran all over the ground. When the seven years +had fully gone by, the Devil came with the book, showed the signatures, +and said, “I will take you with me to hell. There you shall have a +meal! If you can guess what kind of roast meat you will have to eat, +you shall be free and released from your bargain, and may keep the whip +as well.” Then the first soldier began and said, “In the great North +Sea lies a dead dog-fish, that no doubt is the roast meat.” The Devil +was angry, and began to mutter, “Hm! hm! hm!” And asked the second, +“But what will your spoon be?” “The rib of a whale, that is to be our +silver spoon.” The Devil made a wry face, again growled, “Hm! hm! hm!” +and said to the third, “And do you also know what your wine-glass is to +be?” “An old horse’s hoof is to be our wineglass.” Then the Devil flew +away with a loud cry, and had no more power over them, but the three +kept the whip, whipped as much money for themselves with it as they +wanted, and lived happily to their end. + + + +126 Ferdinand the Faithful + +Once on a time lived a man and a woman who so long as they were rich +had no children, but when they were poor they had a little boy. They +could, however, find no godfather for him, so the man said he would +just go to another place to see if he could get one there. As he went, +a poor man met him, who asked him where he was going. He said he was +going to see if he could get a godfather, that he was poor, so no one +would stand as godfather for him. “Oh,” said the poor man, “you are +poor, and I am poor; I will be godfather for you, but I am so ill off I +can give the child nothing. Go home and tell the nurse that she is to +come to the church with the child.” + +When they all got to the church together, the beggar was already there, +and he gave the child the name of Ferdinand the Faithful. + +When he was going out of the church, the beggar said, “Now go home, I +can give you nothing, and you likewise ought to give me nothing.” But +he gave a key to the nurse, and told her when she got home she was to +give it to the father, who was to take care of it until the child was +fourteen years old, and then he was to go on the heath where there was +a castle which the key would fit, and that all which was therein should +belong to him. Now when the child was seven years old and had grown +very big, he once went to play with some other boys, and each of them +boasted that he had got more from his godfather than the other; but the +child could say nothing, and was vexed, and went home and said to his +father, “Did I get nothing at all, then, from my godfather?” “Oh, yes,” +said the father, “thou hadst a key if there is a castle standing on the +heath, just go to it and open it.” Then the boy went thither, but no +castle was to be seen, or heard of. + +After seven years more, when he was fourteen years old, he again went +thither, and there stood the castle. When he had opened it, there was +nothing within but a horse, a white one. Then the boy was so full of +joy because he had a horse, that he mounted on it and galloped back to +his father. “Now I have a white horse, and I will travel,” said he. So +he set out, and as he was on his way, a pen was lying on the road. At +first he thought he would pick it up, but then again he thought to +himself, “Thou shouldst leave it lying there; thou wilt easily find a +pen where thou art going, if thou hast need of one.” As he was thus +riding away, a voice called after him, “Ferdinand the Faithful, take it +with thee.” He looked around, but saw no one, then he went back again +and picked it up. When he had ridden a little way farther, he passed by +a lake, and a fish was lying on the bank, gasping and panting for +breath, so he said, “Wait, my dear fish, I will help thee get into the +water,” and he took hold of it by the tail, and threw it into the lake. +Then the fish put its head out of the water and said, “As thou hast +helped me out of the mud I will give thee a flute; when thou art in any +need, play on it, and then I will help thee, and if ever thou lettest +anything fall in the water, just play and I will reach it out to thee.” +Then he rode away, and there came to him a man who asked him where he +was going. “Oh, to the next place.” Then what his name was? “Ferdinand +the Faithful.” “So! then we have got almost the same name, I am called +Ferdinand the Unfaithful.” And they both set out to the inn in the +nearest place. + +Now it was unfortunate that Ferdinand the Unfaithful knew everything +that the other had ever thought and everything he was about to do; he +knew it by means of all kinds of wicked arts. There was, however, in +the inn an honest girl, who had a bright face and behaved very +prettily. She fell in love with Ferdinand the Faithful because he was a +handsome man, and she asked him whither he was going. “Oh, I am just +travelling round about,” said he. Then she said he ought to stay there, +for the King of that country wanted an attendant or an outrider, and he +ought to enter his service. He answered he could not very well go to +any one like that and offer himself. Then said the maiden, “Oh, but I +will soon do that for you.” And so she went straight to the King, and +told him that she knew of an excellent servant for him. He was well +pleased with that, and had Ferdinand the Faithful brought to him, and +wanted to make him his servant. He, however, liked better to be an +outrider, for where his horse was, there he also wanted to be, so the +King made him an outrider. When Ferdinand the Unfaithful learnt that, +he said to the girl, “What! Dost thou help him and not me?” “Oh,” said +the girl, “I will help thee too.” She thought, “I must keep friends +with that man, for he is not to be trusted.” She went to the King, and +offered him as a servant, and the King was willing. + +Now when the King met his lords in the morning, he always lamented and +said, “Oh, if I had but my love with me.” Ferdinand the Unfaithful was, +however, always hostile to Ferdinand the Faithful. So once, when the +King was complaining thus, he said, “You have the outrider, send him +away to get her, and if he does not do it, his head must be struck +off.” Then the King sent for Ferdinand the Faithful, and told him that +there was, in this place or in that place, a girl he loved, and that he +was to bring her to him, and if he did not do it he should die. + +Ferdinand the Faithful went into the stable to his white horse, and +complained and lamented, “Oh, what an unhappy man I am!” Then someone +behind him cried, “Ferdinand the Faithful, why weepest thou?” He looked +round but saw no one, and went on lamenting; “Oh, my dear little white +horse, now must I leave thee; now must I die.” Then some one cried once +more, “Ferdinand the Faithful, why weepest thou?” Then for the first +time he was aware that it was his little white horse who was putting +that question. “Dost thou speak, my little white horse; canst thou do +that?” And again, he said, “I am to go to this place and to that, and +am to bring the bride; canst thou tell me how I am to set about it?” +Then answered the little white horse, “Go thou to the King, and say if +he will give thou what thou must have, thou wilt get her for him. If he +will give thee a ship full of meat, and a ship full of bread, it will +succeed. Great giants dwell on the lake, and if thou takest no meat +with thee for them, they will tear thee to pieces, and there are the +large birds which would pick the eyes out of thy head if thou hadst no +bread for them.” Then the King made all the butchers in the land kill, +and all the bakers bake, that the ships might be filled. When they were +full, the little white horse said to Ferdinand the Faithful, “Now mount +me, and go with me into the ship, and then when the giants come, say, + +“Peace, peace, my dear little giants, +I have had thought of ye, +Something I have brought for ye;” + + +and when the birds come, thou shalt again say, + +“Peace, peace, my dear little birds, +I have had thought of ye, +Something I have brought for ye;” + + +then they will do nothing to thee, and when thou comest to the castle, +the giants will help thee. Then go up to the castle, and take a couple +of giants with thee. There the princess lies sleeping; thou must, +however, not awaken her, but the giants must lift her up, and carry her +in her bed to the ship.” And now everything took place as the little +white horse had said, and Ferdinand the Faithful gave the giants and +the birds what he had brought with him for them, and that made the +giants willing, and they carried the princess in her bed to the King. +And when she came to the King, she said she could not live, she must +have her writings, they had been left in her castle. Then by the +instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, Ferdinand the Faithful was +called, and the King told him he must fetch the writings from the +castle, or he should die. Then he went once more into the stable, and +bemoaned himself and said, “Oh, my dear little white horse, now I am to +go away again, how am I to do it?” Then the little white horse said he +was just to load the ships full again. So it happened again as it had +happened before, and the giants and the birds were satisfied, and made +gentle by the meat. When they came to the castle, the white horse told +Ferdinand the Faithful that he must go in, and that on the table in the +princess’s bed-room lay the writings. And Ferdinand the Faithful went +in, and fetched them. When they were on the lake, he let his pen fall +into the water; then said the white horse, “Now I cannot help thee at +all.” But he remembered his flute, and began to play on it, and the +fish came with the pen in its mouth, and gave it to him. So he took the +writings to the castle, where the wedding was celebrated. + +The Queen, however, did not love the King because he had no nose, but +she would have much liked to love Ferdinand the Faithful. Once, +therefore, when all the lords of the court were together, the Queen +said she could do feats of magic, that she could cut off any one’s head +and put it on again, and that one of them ought just to try it. But +none of them would be the first, so Ferdinand the Faithful, again at +the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, undertook it and she hewed +off his head, and put it on again for him, and it healed together +directly, so that it looked as if he had a red thread round his throat. +Then the King said to her, “My child, and where hast thou learnt that?” +“Yes,” she said, “I understand the art; shall I just try it on thee +also?” “Oh, yes,” said he. But she cut off his head, and did not put it +on again; but pretended that she could not get it on, and that it would +not keep fixed. Then the King was buried, but she married Ferdinand the +Faithful. + +He, however, always rode on his white horse, and once when he was +seated on it, it told him that he was to go on to the heath which he +knew, and gallop three times round it. And when he had done that, the +white horse stood up on its hind legs, and was changed into a King’s +son. + + + +127 The Iron Stove + +In the days when wishing was still of some use, a King’s son was +bewitched by an old witch, and shut up in an iron stove in a forest. +There he passed many years, and no one could deliver him. Then a King’s +daughter came into the forest, who had lost herself, and could not find +her father’s kingdom again. After she had wandered about for nine days, +she at length came to the iron stove. Then a voice came forth from it, +and asked her, “Whence comest thou, and whither goest, thou?” She +answered, “I have lost my father’s kingdom, and cannot get home again.” +Then a voice inside the iron stove said, “I will help thee to get home +again, and that indeed most swiftly, if thou wilt promise to do what I +desire of thee. I am the son of a far greater King than thy father, and +I will marry thee.” + +Then was she afraid, and thought, “Good heavens! What can I do with an +iron stove?” But as she much wished to get home to her father, she +promised to do as he desired. But he said, “Thou shalt return here, and +bring a knife with thee, and scrape a hole in the iron.” Then he gave +her a companion who walked near her, but did not speak, but in two +hours he took her home; there was great joy in the castle when the +King’s daughter came home, and the old King fell on her neck and kissed +her. She, however, was sorely troubled, and said, “Dear father, what I +have suffered! I should never have got home again from the great wild +forest, if I had not come to an iron stove, but I have been forced to +give my word that I will go back to it, set it free, and marry it.” +Then the old King was so terrified that he all but fainted, for he had +but this one daughter. They therefore resolved they would send, in her +place, the miller’s daughter, who was very beautiful. They took her +there, gave her a knife, and said she was to scrape at the iron stove. +So she scraped at it for four-and-twenty hours, but could not bring off +the least morsel of it. When day dawned, a voice in the stove said, “It +seems to me it is day outside.” Then she answered, “It seems so to me +too; I fancy I hear the noise of my father’s mill.” + +“So thou art a miller’s daughter! Then go thy way at once, and let the +King’s daughter come here.” Then she went away at once, and told the +old King that the man outside there, would have none of her he wanted +the King’s daughter. They, however, still had a swine-herd’s daughter, +who was even prettier than the miller’s daughter, and they determined +to give her a piece of gold to go to the iron stove instead of the +King’s daughter. So she was taken thither, and she also had to scrape +for four-and-twenty hours. She, however, made nothing of it. When day +broke, a voice inside the stove cried, “It seems to me it is day +outside!” Then answered she, “So it seems to me also; I fancy I hear my +father’s horn blowing.” + +“Then thou art a swine-herd’s daughter! Go away at once, and tell the +King’s daughter to come, and tell her all must be done as promised, and +if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall be ruined and +destroyed, and not one stone be left standing on another.” When the +King’s daughter heard that she began to weep, but now there was nothing +for it but to keep her promise. So she took leave of her father, put a +knife in her pocket, and went forth to the iron stove in the forest. +When she got there, she began to scrape, and the iron gave way, and +when two hours were over, she had already scraped a small hole. Then +she peeped in, and saw a youth so handsome, and so brilliant with gold +and with precious jewels, that her very soul was delighted. Now, +therefore, she went on scraping, and made the hole so large that he was +able to get out. Then said he, “Thou art mine, and I am thine; thou art +my bride, and hast released me.” He wanted to take her away with him to +his kingdom, but she entreated him to let her go once again to her +father, and the King’s son allowed her to do so, but she was not to say +more to her father than three words, and then she was to come back +again. So she went home, but she spoke more than three words, and +instantly the iron stove disappeared, and was taken far away over glass +mountains and piercing swords; but the King’s son was set free, and no +longer shut up in it. After this she bade good-bye to her father, took +some money with her, but not much, and went back to the great forest, +and looked for the iron stove, but it was nowhere to be found. For nine +days she sought it, and then her hunger grew so great that she did not +know what to do, for she could no longer live. When it was evening, she +seated herself in a small tree, and made up her mind to spend the night +there, as she was afraid of wild beasts. When midnight drew near she +saw in the distance a small light, and thought, “Ah, there I should be +saved!” She got down from the tree, and went towards the light, but on +the way she prayed. Then she came to a little old house, and much grass +had grown all about it, and a small heap of wood lay in front of it. +She thought, “Ah, whither have I come,” and peeped in through the +window, but she saw nothing inside but toads, big and little, except a +table well covered with wine and roast meat, and the plates and glasses +were of silver. Then she took courage, and knocked at the door. The fat +toad cried, + +“Little green waiting-maid, +Waiting-maid with the limping leg, +Little dog of the limping leg, +Hop hither and thither, +And quickly see who is without:” + + +and a small toad came walking by and opened the door to her. When she +entered, they all bade her welcome, and she was forced to sit down. +They asked, “Where hast thou come from, and whither art thou going?” +Then she related all that had befallen her, and how because she had +transgressed the order which had been given her not to say more than +three words, the stove, and the King’s son also, had disappeared, and +now she was about to seek him over hill and dale until she found him. +Then the old fat one said, + +“Little green waiting-maid, +Waiting-maid with the limping leg, +Little dog of the limping leg, +Hop hither and thither, +And bring me the great box.” + + +Then the little one went and brought the box. After this they gave her +meat and drink, and took her to a well-made bed, which felt like silk +and velvet, and she laid herself therein, in God’s name, and slept. +When morning came she arose, and the old toad gave her three needles +out of the great box which she was to take with her; they would be +needed by her, for she had to cross a high glass mountain, and go over +three piercing swords and a great lake. If she did all this she would +get her lover back again. Then she gave her three things, which she was +to take the greatest care of, namely, three large needles, a +plough-wheel, and three nuts. With these she travelled onwards, and +when she came to the glass mountain which was so slippery, she stuck +the three needles first behind her feet and then before them, and so +got over it, and when she was over it, she hid them in a place which +she marked carefully. After this she came to the three piercing swords, +and then she seated herself on her plough-wheel, and rolled over them. +At last she arrived in front of a great lake, and when she had crossed +it, she came to a large and beautiful castle. She went and asked for a +place; she was a poor girl, she said, and would like to be hired. She +knew, however, that the King’s son whom she had released from the iron +stove in the great forest was in the castle. Then she was taken as a +scullery-maid at low wages. But, already the King’s son had another +maiden by his side whom he wanted to marry, for he thought that she had +long been dead. + +In the evening, when she had washed up and was done, she felt in her +pocket and found the three nuts which the old toad had given her. She +cracked one with her teeth, and was going to eat the kernel when lo and +behold there was a stately royal garment in it! But when the bride +heard of this she came and asked for the dress, and wanted to buy it, +and said, “It is not a dress for a servant-girl.” But she said no, she +would not sell it, but if the bride would grant her one thing she +should have it, and that was, leave to sleep one night in her +bridegroom’s chamber. The bride gave her permission because the dress +was so pretty, and she had never had one like it. When it was evening +she said to her bridegroom, “That silly girl will sleep in thy room.” +“If thou art willing so am I,” said he. She, however, gave him a glass +of wine in which she had poured a sleeping-draught. So the bridegroom +and the scullery-maid went to sleep in the room, and he slept so +soundly that she could not waken him. + +She wept the whole night and cried, “I set thee free when thou wert in +an iron stove in the wild forest, I sought thee, and walked over a +glass mountain, and three sharp swords, and a great lake before I found +thee, and yet thou wilt not hear me!” + +The servants sat by the chamber-door, and heard how she thus wept the +whole night through, and in the morning they told it to their lord. And +the next evening when she had washed up, she opened the second nut, and +a far more beautiful dress was within it, and when the bride beheld it, +she wished to buy that also. But the girl would not take money, and +begged that she might once again sleep in the bridegroom’s chamber. The +bride, however, gave him a sleeping-drink, and he slept so soundly that +he could hear nothing. But the scullery-maid wept the whole night long, +and cried, “I set thee free when thou wert in an iron stove in the wild +forest, I sought thee, and walked over a glass mountain, and over three +sharp swords and a great lake before I found thee, and yet thou wilt +not hear me!” The servants sat by the chamber-door and heard her +weeping the whole night through, and in the morning informed their lord +of it. And on the third evening, when she had washed up, she opened the +third nut, and within it was a still more beautiful dress which was +stiff with pure gold. When the bride saw that she wanted to have it, +but the maiden only gave it up on condition that she might for the +third time sleep in the bridegroom’s apartment. The King’s son was, +however, on his guard, and threw the sleeping-draught away. Now, +therefore, when she began to weep and to cry, “Dearest love, I set thee +free when thou wert in the iron stove in the terrible wild forest,” the +King’s son leapt up and said, “Thou art the true one, thou art mine, +and I am thine.” Thereupon, while it was still night, he got into a +carriage with her, and they took away the false bride’s clothes so that +she could not get up. When they came to the great lake, they sailed +across it, and when they reached the three sharp-cutting swords they +seated themselves on the plough-wheel, and when they got to the glass +mountain they thrust the three needles in it, and so at length they got +to the little old house; but when they went inside that, it was a great +castle, and the toads were all disenchanted, and were King’s children, +and full of happiness. Then the wedding was celebrated, and the King’s +son and the princess remained in the castle, which was much larger than +the castles of their fathers. As, however, the old King grieved at +being left alone, they fetched him away, and brought him to live with +them, and they had two kingdoms, and lived in happy wedlock. + +A mouse did run, +This story is done. + + + +128 The Lazy Spinner + +In a certain village there once lived a man and his wife, and the wife +was so idle that she would never work at anything; whatever her husband +gave her to spin, she did not get done, and what she did spin she did +not wind, but let it all remain entangled in a heap. If the man scolded +her, she was always ready with her tongue, and said, “Well, how should +I wind it, when I have no reel? Just you go into the forest and get me +one.” “If that is all,” said the man, “then I will go into the forest, +and get some wood for making reels.” Then the woman was afraid that if +he had the wood he would make her a reel of it, and she would have to +wind her yarn off, and then begin to spin again. She bethought herself +a little, and then a lucky idea occurred to her, and she secretly +followed the man into the forest, and when he had climbed into a tree +to choose and cut the wood, she crept into the thicket below where he +could not see her, and cried, + +“He who cuts wood for reels shall die, +And he who winds, shall perish.” + + +The man listened, laid down his axe for a moment, and began to consider +what that could mean. “Hollo,” he said at last, “what can that have +been; my ears must have been singing, I won’t alarm myself for +nothing.” So he again seized the axe, and began to hew, then again +there came a cry from below: + +“He who cuts wood for reels shall die, +And he who winds, shall perish.” + + +He stopped, and felt afraid and alarmed, and pondered over the +circumstance. But when a few moments had passed, he took heart again, +and a third time he stretched out his hand for the axe, and began to +cut. But some one called out a third time, and said loudly, + +“He who cuts wood for reels shall die, +And he who winds, shall perish.” + + +That was enough for him, and all inclination had departed from him, so +he hastily descended the tree, and set out on his way home. The woman +ran as fast as she could by by-ways so as to get home first. So when he +entered the parlour, she put on an innocent look as if nothing had +happened, and said, “Well, have you brought a nice piece of wood for +reels?” “No,” said he, “I see very well that winding won’t do,” and +told her what had happened to him in the forest, and from that time +forth left her in peace about it. Neverthless after some time, the man +again began to complain of the disorder in the house. “Wife,” said he, +“it is really a shame that the spun yarn should lie there all +entangled!” “I’ll tell you what,” said she, “as we still don’t come by +any reel, go you up into the loft, and I will stand down below, and +will throw the yarn up to you, and you will throw it down to me, and so +we shall get a skein after all.” “Yes, that will do,” said the man. So +they did that, and when it was done, he said, “The yarn is in skeins, +now it must be boiled.” The woman was again distressed; She certainly +said, “Yes, we will boil it next morning early.” but she was secretly +contriving another trick. + +Early in the morning she got up, lighted a fire, and put the kettle on, +only instead of the yarn, she put in a lump of tow, and let it boil. +After that she went to the man who was still lying in bed, and said to +him, “I must just go out, you must get up and look after the yarn which +is in the kettle on the fire, but you must be at hand at once; mind +that, for if the cock should happen to crow, and you are not attending +to the yarn, it will become tow.” The man was willing and took good +care not to loiter. He got up as quickly as he could, and went into the +kitchen. But when he reached the kettle and peeped in, he saw, to his +horror, nothing but a lump of tow. Then the poor man was as still as a +mouse, thinking he had neglected it, and was to blame, and in future +said no more about yarn and spinning. But you yourself must own she was +an odious woman! + + + +129 The Four Skilful Brothers + +There was once a poor man who had four sons, and when they were grown +up, he said to them, “My dear children, you must now go out into the +world, for I have nothing to give you, so set out, and go to some +distance and learn a trade, and see how you can make your way.” So the +four brothers took their sticks, bade their father farewell, and went +through the town-gate together. When they had travelled about for some +time, they came to a cross-way which branched off in four different +directions. Then said the eldest, “Here we must separate, but on this +day four years, we will meet each other again at this spot, and in the +meantime we will seek our fortunes.” + +Then each of them went his way, and the eldest met a man who asked him +where he was going, and what he was intending to do? “I want to learn a +trade,” he replied. Then the other said, “Come with me, and be a +thief.” “No,” he answered, “that is no longer regarded as a reputable +trade, and the end of it is that one has to swing on the gallows.” +“Oh,” said the man, “you need not be afraid of the gallows; I will only +teach you to get such things as no other man could ever lay hold of, +and no one will ever detect you.” So he allowed himself to be talked +into it, and while with the man became an accomplished thief, and so +dexterous that nothing was safe from him, if he once desired to have +it. The second brother met a man who put the same question to him what +he wanted to learn in the world. “I don’t know yet,” he replied. “Then +come with me, and be an astronomer; there is nothing better than that, +for nothing is hid from you.” He liked the idea, and became such a +skillful astronomer that when he had learnt everything, and was about +to travel onwards, his master gave him a telescope and said to him, +“With that you canst thou see whatsoever takes place either on earth or +in heaven, and nothing can remain concealed from thee.” A huntsman took +the third brother into training, and gave him such excellent +instruction in everything which related to huntsmanship, that he became +an experienced hunter. When he went away, his master gave him a gun and +said, “It will never fail you; whatsoever you aim at, you are certain +to hit.” The youngest brother also met a man who spoke to him, and +inquired what his intentions were. “Would you not like to be a tailor?” +said he. “Not that I know of,” said the youth; “sitting doubled up from +morning till night, driving the needle and the goose backwards and +forwards, is not to my taste.” “Oh, but you are speaking in ignorance,” +answered the man; “with me you would learn a very different kind of +tailoring, which is respectable and proper, and for the most part very +honorable.” So he let himself be persuaded, and went with the man, and +learnt his art from the very beginning. When they parted, the man gave +the youth a needle, and said, “With this you can sew together whatever +is given you, whether it is as soft as an egg or as hard as steel; and +it will all become one piece of stuff, so that no seam will be +visible.” + +When the appointed four years were over, the four brothers arrived at +the same time at the cross-roads, embraced and kissed each other, and +returned home to their father. “So now,” said he, quite delighted, “the +wind has blown you back again to me.” They told him of all that had +happened to them, and that each had learnt his own trade. Now they were +sitting just in front of the house under a large tree, and the father +said, “I will put you all to the test, and see what you can do.” Then +he looked up and said to his second son, “Between two branches up at +the top of this tree, there is a chaffinch’s nest, tell me how many +eggs there are in it?” The astronomer took his glass, looked up, and +said, “There are five.” Then the father said to the eldest, “Fetch the +eggs down without disturbing the bird which is sitting hatching them.” +The skillful thief climbed up, and took the five eggs from beneath the +bird, which never observed what he was doing, and remained quietly +sitting where she was, and brought them down to his father. The father +took them, and put one of them on each corner of the table, and the +fifth in the middle, and said to the huntsman, “With one shot thou +shalt shoot me the five eggs in two, through the middle.” The huntsman +aimed, and shot the eggs, all five as the father had desired, and that +at one shot. He certainly must have had some of the powder for shooting +round corners. “Now it’s your turn,” said the father to the fourth son; +“you shall sew the eggs together again, and the young birds that are +inside them as well, and you must do it so that they are not hurt by +the shot.” The tailor brought his needle, and sewed them as his father +wished. When he had done this the thief had to climb up the tree again, +and carry them to the nest, and put them back again under the bird +without her being aware of it. The bird sat her full time, and after a +few days the young ones crept out, and they had a red line round their +necks where they had been sewn together by the tailor. + +“Well,” said the old man to his sons, “I begin to think you are worth +more than breen clover; you have used your time well, and learnt +something good. I can’t say which of you deserves the most praise. That +will be proved if you have but an early opportunity of using your +talents.” Not long after this, there was a great uproar in the country, +for the King’s daughter was carried off by a dragon. The King was full +of trouble about it, both by day and night, and caused it to be +proclaimed that whosoever brought her back should have her to wife. The +four brothers said to each other, “This would be a fine opportunity for +us to show what we can do!” and resolved to go forth together and +liberate the King’s daughter. “I will soon know where she is,” said the +astronomer, and looked through his telescope and said, “I see her +already, she is far away from here on a rock in the sea, and the dragon +is beside her watching her.” Then he went to the King, and asked for a +ship for himself and his brothers, and sailed with them over the sea +until they came to the rock. There the King’s daughter was sitting, and +the dragon was lying asleep on her lap. The huntsman said, “I dare not +fire, I should kill the beautiful maiden at the same time.” “Then I +will try my art,” said the thief, and he crept thither and stole her +away from under the dragon, so quietly and dexterously, that the +monster never remarked it, but went on snoring. Full of joy, they +hurried off with her on board ship, and steered out into the open sea; +but the dragon, who when he awoke had found no princess there, followed +them, and came snorting angrily through the air. Just as he was +circling above the ship, and about to descend on it, the huntsman +shouldered his gun, and shot him to the heart. The monster fell down +dead, but was so large and powerful that his fall shattered the whole +ship. Fortunately, however, they laid hold of a couple of planks, and +swam about the wide sea. Then again they were in great peril, but the +tailor, who was not idle, took his wondrous needle, and with a few +stitches sewed the planks together, and they seated themselves upon +them, and collected together all the fragments of the vessel. Then he +sewed these so skilfully together, that in a very short time the ship +was once more seaworthy, and they could go home again in safety. + +When the King once more saw his daughter, there were great rejoicings. +He said to the four brothers, “One of you shall have her to wife, but +which of you it is to be you must settle among yourselves.” Then a warm +contest arose among them, for each of them preferred his own claim. The +astronomer said, “If I had not seen the princess, all your arts would +have been useless, so she is mine.” The thief said, “What would have +been the use of your seeing, if I had not got her away from the dragon? +so she is mine.” The huntsman said, “You and the princess, and all of +you, would have been torn to pieces by the dragon if my ball had not +hit him, so she is mine.” The tailor said, “And if I, by my art, had +not sewn the ship together again, you would all of you have been +miserably drowned, so she is mine.” Then the King uttered this saying, +“Each of you has an equal right, and as all of you cannot have the +maiden, none of you shall have her, but I will give to each of you, as +a reward, half a kingdom.” The brothers were pleased with this +decision, and said, “It is better thus than that we should be at +variance with each other.” Then each of them received half a kingdom, +and they lived with their father in the greatest happiness as long as +it pleased God. + + + +130 One-eye, Two-eyes, and Three-eyes + +There was once a woman who had three daughters, the eldest of whom was +called One-eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her +forehead, and the second, Two-eyes, because she had two eyes like other +folks, and the youngest, Three-eyes, because she had three eyes; and +her third eye was also in the centre of her forehead. However, as +Two-eyes saw just as other human beings did, her sisters and her mother +could not endure her. They said to her, “Thou, with thy two eyes, art +no better than the common people; thou dost not belong to us!” They +pushed her about, and threw old clothes to her, and gave her nothing to +eat but what they left, and did everything that they could to make her +unhappy. It came to pass that Two-eyes had to go out into the fields +and tend the goat, but she was still quite hungry, because her sisters +had given her so little to eat. So she sat down on a ridge and began to +weep, and so bitterly that two streams ran down from her eyes. And once +when she looked up in her grief, a woman was standing beside her, who +said, “Why art thou weeping, little Two-eyes?” Two-Eyes answered, “Have +I not reason to weep, when I have two eyes like other people, and my +sisters and mother hate me for it, and push me from one corner to +another, throw old clothes at me, and give me nothing to eat but the +scraps they leave? To-day they have given me so little that I am still +quite hungry.” Then the wise woman said, “Wipe away thy tears, +Two-eyes, and I will tell thee something to stop thee ever suffering +from hunger again; just say to thy goat, + +“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, +Cover the table with something to eat,” + + +and then a clean well-spread little table will stand before thee, with +the most delicious food upon it of which thou mayst eat as much as thou +art inclined for, and when thou hast had enough, and hast no more need +of the little table, just say, + +“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, +And take the table quite away,” + + +and then it will vanish again from thy sight.” Hereupon the wise woman +departed. But Two-eyes thought, “I must instantly make a trial, and see +if what she said is true, for I am far too hungry,” and she said, + +“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, +Cover the table with something to eat,” + + +and scarcely had she spoken the words than a little table, covered with +a white cloth, was standing there, and on it was a plate with a knife +and fork, and a silver spoon; and the most delicious food was there +also, warm and smoking as if it had just come out of the kitchen. Then +Two-eyes said the shortest prayer she knew, “Lord God, be with us +always, Amen,” and helped herself to some food, and enjoyed it. And +when she was satisfied, she said, as the wise woman had taught her, + +“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, +And take the table quite away,” + + +and immediately the little table and everything on it was gone again. +“That is a delightful way of keeping house!” thought Two-eyes, and was +quite glad and happy. + +In the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a small +earthenware dish with some food, which her sisters had set ready for +her, but she did not touch it. Next day she again went out with her +goat, and left the few bits of broken bread which had been handed to +her, lying untouched. The first and second time that she did this, her +sisters did not remark it at all, but as it happened every time, they +did observe it, and said, “There is something wrong about Two-eyes, she +always leaves her food untasted, and she used to eat up everything that +was given her; she must have discovered other ways of getting food.” In +order that they might learn the truth, they resolved to send One-eye +with Two-eyes when she went to drive her goat to the pasture, to +observe what Two-eyes did when she was there, and whether any one +brought her anything to eat and drink. So when Two-eyes set out the +next time, One-eye went to her and said, “I will go with you to the +pasture, and see that the goat is well taken care of, and driven where +there is food.” But Two-eyes knew what was in One-eye’s mind, and drove +the goat into high grass and said, “Come, One-eye, we will sit down, +and I will sing something to you.” One-eye sat down and was tired with +the unaccustomed walk and the heat of the sun, and Two-eyes sang +constantly, + +“One eye, wakest thou? +One eye, sleepest thou?” + + +until One-eye shut her one eye, and fell asleep, and as soon as +Two-eyes saw that One-eye was fast asleep, and could discover nothing, +she said, + +“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, +Cover the table with something to eat,” + + +and seated herself at her table, and ate and drank until she was +satisfied, and then she again cried, + +“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, +And take the table quite away,” + + +and in an instant all was gone. Two-eyes now awakened One-eye, and +said, “One-eye, you want to take care of the goat, and go to sleep +while you are doing it, and in the meantime the goat might run all over +the world. Come, let us go home again.” So they went home, and again +Two-eyes let her little dish stand untouched, and One-eye could not +tell her mother why she would not eat it, and to excuse herself said, +“I fell asleep when I was out.” + +Next day the mother said to Three-eyes, “This time thou shalt go and +observe if Two-eyes eats anything when she is out, and if any one +fetches her food and drink, for she must eat and drink in secret.” So +Three-eyes went to Two-eyes, and said, “I will go with you and see if +the goat is taken proper care of, and driven where there is food.” But +Two-eyes knew what was in Three-eyes’ mind, and drove the goat into +high grass and said, “We will sit down, and I will sing something to +you, Three-eyes.” Three-eyes sat down and was tired with the walk and +with the heat of the sun, and Two-eyes began the same song as before, +and sang, + +“Three eyes, are you waking?” + + +but then, instead of singing, + +“Three eyes, are you sleeping?” + + +as she ought to have done, she thoughtlessly sang, + +“Two eyes, are you sleeping?” + + +and sang all the time, + +“Three eyes, are you waking? +Two eyes, are you sleeping?” + + +Then two of the eyes which Three-eyes had, shut and fell asleep, but +the third, as it had not been named in the song, did not sleep. It is +true that Three-eyes shut it, but only in her cunning, to pretend it +was asleep too, but it blinked, and could see everything very well. And +when Two-eyes thought that Three-eyes was fast asleep, she used her +little charm, + +“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, +Cover the table with something to eat,” + + +and ate and drank as much as her heart desired, and then ordered the +table to go away again, + +“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, +And take the table quite away,” + + +and Three-eyes had seen everything. Then Two-eyes came to her, waked +her and said, “Have you been asleep, Three-eyes? You are a good +care-taker! Come, we will go home.” And when they got home, Two-eyes +again did not eat, and Three-eyes said to the mother, “Now, I know why +that high-minded thing there does not eat. When she is out, she says to +the goat, + +“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, +Cover the table with something to eat,” + + +and then a little table appears before her covered with the best of +food, much better than any we have here, and when she has eaten all she +wants, she says, + +“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, +And take the table quite away,” + + +and all disappears. I watched everything closely. She put two of my +eyes to sleep by using a certain form of words, but luckily the one in +my forehead kept awake.” Then the envious mother cried, “Dost thou want +to fare better than we do? The desire shall pass away,” and she fetched +a butcher’s knife, and thrust it into the heart of the goat, which fell +down dead. + +When Two-eyes saw that, she went out full of trouble, seated herself on +the ridge of grass at the edge of the field, and wept bitter tears. +Suddenly the wise woman once more stood by her side, and said, +“Two-eyes, why art thou weeping?” “Have I not reason to weep?” she +answered. “The goat which covered the table for me every day when I +spoke your charm, has been killed by my mother, and now I shall again +have to bear hunger and want.” The wise woman said, “Two-eyes, I will +give thee a piece of good advice; ask thy sisters to give thee the +entrails of the slaughtered goat, and bury them in the ground in front +of the house, and thy fortune will be made.” Then she vanished, and +Two-eyes went home and said to her sisters, “Dear sisters, do give me +some part of my goat; I don’t wish for what is good, but give me the +entrails.” Then they laughed and said, “If that’s all you want, you can +have it.” So Two-eyes took the entrails and buried them quietly in the +evening, in front of the house-door, as the wise woman had counselled +her to do. + +Next morning, when they all awoke, and went to the house-door, there +stood a strangely magnificent tree with leaves of silver, and fruit of +gold hanging among them, so that in all the wide world there was +nothing more beautiful or precious. They did not know how the tree +could have come there during the night, but Two-eyes saw that it had +grown up out of the entrails of the goat, for it was standing on the +exact spot where she had buried them. Then the mother said to One-eye, +“Climb up, my child, and gather some of the fruit of the tree for us.” +One-eye climbed up, but when she was about to get hold of one of the +golden apples, the branch escaped from her hands, and that happened +each time, so that she could not pluck a single apple, let her do what +she might. Then said the mother, “Three-eyes, do you climb up; you with +your three eyes can look about you better than One-eye.” One-eye +slipped down, and Three-eyes climbed up. Three-eyes was not more +skilful, and might search as she liked, but the golden apples always +escaped her. At length the mother grew impatient, and climbed up +herself, but could get hold of the fruit no better than One-eye and +Three-eyes, for she always clutched empty air. Then said Two-eyes, “I +will just go up, perhaps I may succeed better.” The sisters cried, “You +indeed, with your two eyes, what can you do?” But Two-eyes climbed up, +and the golden apples did get out of her way, but came into her hand of +their own accord, so that she could pluck them one after the other, and +brought a whole apronful down with her. The mother took them away from +her, and instead of treating poor Two-eyes any better for this, she and +One-eye and Three-eyes were only envious, because Two-eyes alone had +been able to get the fruit, and they treated her still more cruelly. + +It so befell that once when they were all standing together by the +tree, a young knight came up. “Quick, Two-eyes,” cried the two sisters, +“creep under this, and don’t disgrace us!” and with all speed they +turned an empty barrel which was standing close by the tree over poor +Two-eyes, and they pushed the golden apples which she had been +gathering, under it too. When the knight came nearer he was a handsome +lord, who stopped and admired the magnificent gold and silver tree, and +said to the two sisters, “To whom does this fine tree belong? Any one +who would bestow one branch of it on me might in return for it ask +whatsoever he desired.” Then One-eye and Three-eyes replied that the +tree belonged to them, and that they would give him a branch. They both +took great trouble, but they were not able to do it, for the branches +and fruit both moved away from them every time. Then said the knight, +“It is very strange that the tree should belong to you, and that you +should still not be able to break a piece off.” They again asserted +that the tree was their property. Whilst they were saying so, Two-eyes +rolled out a couple of golden apples from under the barrel to the feet +of the knight, for she was vexed with One-eye and Three-eyes, for not +speaking the truth. When the knight saw the apples he was astonished, +and asked where they came from. One-eye and Three-eyes answered that +they had another sister, who was not allowed to show herself, for she +had only two eyes like any common person. The knight, however, desired +to see her, and cried, “Two-eyes, come forth.” Then Two-eyes, quite +comforted, came from beneath the barrel, and the knight was surprised +at her great beauty, and said, “Thou, Two-eyes, canst certainly break +off a branch from the tree for me.” “Yes,” replied Two-eyes, “that I +certainly shall be able to do, for the tree belongs to me.” And she +climbed up, and with the greatest ease broke off a branch with +beautiful silver leaves and golden fruit, and gave it to the knight. +Then said the knight, “Two-eyes, what shall I give thee for it?” +“Alas!” answered Two-eyes, “I suffer from hunger and thirst, grief and +want, from early morning till late night; if you would take me with +you, and deliver me from these things, I should be happy.” So the +knight lifted Two-eyes on to his horse, and took her home with him to +his father’s castle, and there he gave her beautiful clothes, and meat +and drink to her heart’s content, and as he loved her so much he +married her, and the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing. When +Two-eyes was thus carried away by the handsome knight, her two sisters +grudged her good fortune in downright earnest. “The wonderful tree, +however, still remains with us,” thought they, “and even if we can +gather no fruit from it, still every one will stand still and look at +it, and come to us and admire it. Who knows what good things may be in +store for us?” But next morning, the tree had vanished, and all their +hopes were at an end. And when Two-eyes looked out of the window of her +own little room, to her great delight it was standing in front of it, +and so it had followed her. + +Two-eyes lived a long time in happiness. Once two poor women came to +her in her castle, and begged for alms. She looked in their faces, and +recognized her sisters, One-eye, and Three-eyes, who had fallen into +such poverty that they had to wander about and beg their bread from +door to door. Two-eyes, however, made them welcome, and was kind to +them, and took care of them, so that they both with all their hearts +repented the evil that they had done their sister in their youth. + + + +131 Fair Katrinelje and Pif-Paf-Poltrie + +“Good-day, Father Hollenthe.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be +allowed to have your daughter?” “Oh, yes, if Mother Malcho (Milch-cow), +Brother High-and-Mighty, Sister Käsetraut, and fair Katrinelje are +willing, you can have her.” + +“Where is Mother Malcho, then?” “She is in the cow-house, milking the +cow.” + +“Good-day, Mother Malcho.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be +allowed to have your daughter?” “Oh, yes, if Father Hollenthe, Brother +High-and-Mighty, Sister Käsetraut, and fair Katrinelje are willing, you +can have her.” “Where is Brother High-and-Mighty, then?” “He is in the +room chopping some wood.” “Good-day, Brother High-and-Mighty.” “Many +thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be allowed to have your sister?” “Oh, +yes, if Father Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Sister Käsetraut, and fair +Katrinelje are willing, you can have her.” “Where is Sister Käsetraut, +then?” “She is in the garden cutting cabbages.” “Good-day, sister +Käsetraut.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be allowed to have +your sister?” “Oh, yes, if Father Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Brother +High-and-Mighty, and fair Katrinelje are willing, you may have her.” +“Where is fair Katrinelje, then?” “She is in the room counting out her +farthings.” “Good day, fair Katrinelje.” “Many thanks, +Pif-paf-poltrie.” “Wilt thou be my bride?” “Oh, yes, if Father +Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Brother High-and-Mighty, and Sister Käsetraut +are willing, I am ready.” + +“Fair Katrinelje, how much dowry do hast thou?” “Fourteen farthings in +ready money, three and a half groschen owing to me, half a pound of +dried apples, a handful of fried bread, and a handful of spices. + +And many other things are mine, +Have I not a dowry fine? + + +“Pif-paf-poltrie, what is thy trade? Art thou a tailor?” “Something +better.” “A shoemaker?” “Something better.” “A husbandman?” “Something +better.” “A joiner?” “Something better.” “A smith?” “Something better.” +“A miller?” “Something better.” “Perhaps a broom-maker?” “Yes, that’s +what I am, is it not a fine trade?” + + + +132 The Fox and the Horse + +A peasant had a faithful horse which had grown old and could do no more +work, so his master would no longer give him anything to eat and said, +“I can certainly make no more use of thee, but still I mean well by +thee; if thou provest thyself still strong enough to bring me a lion +here, I will maintain thee, but now take thyself away out of my +stable,” and with that he chased him into the open country. The horse +was sad, and went to the forest to seek a little protection there from +the weather. Then the fox met him and said, “Why dost thou hang thy +head so, and go about all alone?” “Alas,” replied the horse, “avarice +and fidelity do not dwell together in one house. My master has +forgotten what services I have performed for him for so many years, and +because I can no longer plough well, he will give me no more food, and +has driven me out.” “Without giving thee a chance?” asked the fox. “The +chance was a bad one. He said, if I were still strong enough to bring +him a lion, he would keep me, but he well knows that I cannot do that.” +The fox said, “I will help thee, just lay thyself down, stretch thyself +out, as if thou wert dead, and do not stir.” The horse did as the fox +desired, and the fox went to the lion, who had his den not far off, and +said, “A dead horse is lying outside there, just come with me, thou +canst have a rich meal.” The lion went with him, and when they were +both standing by the horse the fox said, “After all, it is not very +comfortable for thee here I tell thee what I will fasten it to thee by +the tail, and then thou canst drag it into thy cave, and devour it in +peace.” + +This advice pleased the lion: he lay down, and in order that the fox +might tie the horse fast to him, he kept quite quiet. But the fox tied +the lion’s legs together with the horse’s tail, and twisted and +fastened all so well and so strongly that no strength could break it. +When he had finished his work, he tapped the horse on the shoulder and +said, “Pull, white horse, pull.” Then up sprang the horse at once, and +drew the lion away with him. The lion began to roar so that all the +birds in the forest flew out in terror, but the horse let him roar, and +drew him and dragged him over the country to his master’s door. When +the master saw the lion, he was of a better mind, and said to the +horse, “Thou shalt stay with me and fare well,” and he gave him plenty +to eat until he died. + + + +133 The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces + +There was once upon a time a King who had twelve daughters, each one +more beautiful than the other. They all slept together in one chamber, +in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when they were +in them the King locked the door, and bolted it. But in the morning +when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were worn out with +dancing, and no one could find out how that had come to pass. Then the +King caused it to be proclaimed that whosoever could discover where +they danced at night, should choose one of them for his wife and be +King after his death, but that whosoever came forward and had not +discovered it within three days and nights, should have forfeited his +life. It was not long before a King’s son presented himself, and +offered to undertake the enterprise. He was well received, and in the +evening was led into a room adjoining the princesses’ sleeping-chamber. +His bed was placed there, and he was to observe where they went and +danced, and in order that they might do nothing secretly or go away to +some other place, the door of their room was left open. + +But the eyelids of the prince grew heavy as lead, and he fell asleep, +and when he awoke in the morning, all twelve had been to the dance, for +their shoes were standing there with holes in the soles. On the second +and third nights it fell out just the same, and then his head was +struck off without mercy. Many others came after this and undertook the +enterprise, but all forfeited their lives. Now it came to pass that a +poor soldier, who had a wound, and could serve no longer, found himself +on the road to the town where the King lived. There he met an old +woman, who asked him where he was going. “I hardly know myself,” +answered he, and added in jest, “I had half a mind to discover where +the princesses danced their shoes into holes, and thus become King.” +“That is not so difficult,” said the old woman, “you must not drink the +wine which will be brought to you at night, and must pretend to be +sound asleep.” With that she gave him a little cloak, and said, “If you +put on that, you will be invisible, and then you can steal after the +twelve.” When the soldier had received this good advice, he went into +the thing in earnest, took heart, went to the King, and announced +himself as a suitor. He was as well received as the others, and royal +garments were put upon him. He was conducted that evening at bed-time +into the ante-chamber, and as he was about to go to bed, the eldest +came and brought him a cup of wine, but he had tied a sponge under his +chin, and let the wine run down into it, without drinking a drop. Then +he lay down and when he had lain a while, he began to snore, as if in +the deepest sleep. The twelve princesses heard that, and laughed, and +the eldest said, “He, too, might as well have saved his life.” With +that they got up, opened wardrobes, presses, cupboards, and brought out +pretty dresses; dressed themselves before the mirrors, sprang about, +and rejoiced at the prospect of the dance. Only the youngest said, “I +know not how it is; you are very happy, but I feel very strange; some +misfortune is certainly about to befall us.” “Thou art a goose, who art +always frightened,” said the eldest. “Hast thou forgotten how many +Kings’ sons have already come here in vain? I had hardly any need to +give the soldier a sleeping-draught, in any case the clown would not +have awakened.” When they were all ready they looked carefully at the +soldier, but he had closed his eyes and did not move or stir, so they +felt themselves quite secure. The eldest then went to her bed and +tapped it; it immediately sank into the earth, and one after the other +they descended through the opening, the eldest going first. The +soldier, who had watched everything, tarried no longer, put on his +little cloak, and went down last with the youngest. Half-way down the +steps, he just trod a little on her dress; she was terrified at that, +and cried out, “What is that? who is pulling my dress?” “Don’t be so +silly!” said the eldest, “you have caught it on a nail.” Then they went +all the way down, and when they were at the bottom, they were standing +in a wonderfully pretty avenue of trees, all the leaves of which were +of silver, and shone and glistened. The soldier thought, “I must carry +a token away with me,” and broke off a twig from one of them, on which +the tree cracked with a loud report. The youngest cried out again. +“Something is wrong, did you hear the crack?” But the eldest said, “It +is a gun fired for joy, because we have got rid of our prince so +quickly.” After that they came into an avenue where all the leaves were +of gold, and lastly into a third where they were of bright diamonds; he +broke off a twig from each, which made such a crack each time that the +youngest started back in terror, but the eldest still maintained that +they were salutes. They went on and came to a great lake whereon stood +twelve little boats, and in every boat sat a handsome prince, all of +whom were waiting for the twelve, and each took one of them with him, +but the soldier seated himself by the youngest. Then her prince said, +“I can’t tell why the boat is so much heavier to-day; I shall have to +row with all my strength, if I am to get it across.” “What should cause +that,” said the youngest, “but the warm weather? I feel very warm too.” +On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid, brightly-lit castle, +from whence resounded the joyous music of trumpets and kettle-drums. +They rowed over there, entered, and each prince danced with the girl he +loved, but the soldier danced with them unseen, and when one of them +had a cup of wine in her hand he drank it up, so that the cup was empty +when she carried it to her mouth; the youngest was alarmed at this, but +the eldest always made her be silent. They danced there till three +o’clock in the morning when all the shoes were danced into holes, and +they were forced to leave off; the princes rowed them back again over +the lake, and this time the soldier seated himself by the eldest. On +the shore they took leave of their princes, and promised to return the +following night. When they reached the stairs the soldier ran on in +front and lay down in his bed, and when the twelve had come up slowly +and wearily, he was already snoring so loudly that they could all hear +him, and they said, “So far as he is concerned, we are safe.” They took +off their beautiful dresses, laid them away, put the worn-out shoes +under the bed, and lay down. Next morning the soldier was resolved not +to speak, but to watch the wonderful goings on, and again went with +them. Then everything was done just as it had been done the first time, +and each time they danced until their shoes were worn to pieces. But +the third time he took a cup away with him as a token. When the hour +had arrived for him to give his answer, he took the three twigs and the +cup, and went to the King, but the twelve stood behind the door, and +listened for what he was going to say. When the King put the question, +“Where have my twelve daughters danced their shoes to pieces in the +night?” he answered, “In an underground castle with twelve princes,” +and related how it had come to pass, and brought out the tokens. The +King then summoned his daughters, and asked them if the soldier had +told the truth, and when they saw that they were betrayed, and that +falsehood would be of no avail, they were obliged to confess all. +Thereupon the King asked which of them he would have to wife? He +answered, “I am no longer young, so give me the eldest.” Then the +wedding was celebrated on the self-same day, and the kingdom was +promised him after the King’s death. But the princes were bewitched for +as many days as they had danced nights with the twelve. + + + +134 The Six Servants + +In former times there lived an aged Queen who was a sorceress, and her +daughter was the most beautiful maiden under the sun. The old woman, +however, had no other thought than how to lure mankind to destruction, +and when a wooer appeared, she said that whosoever wished to have her +daughter, must first perform a task, or die. Many had been dazzled by +the daughter’s beauty, and had actually risked this, but they never +could accomplish what the old woman enjoined them to do, and then no +mercy was shown; they had to kneel down, and their heads were struck +off. A certain King’s son who had also heard of the maiden’s beauty, +said to his father, “Let me go there, I want to demand her in +marriage.” “Never,” answered the King; “if you were to go, it would be +going to your death.” On this the son lay down and was sick unto death, +and for seven years he lay there, and no physician could heal him. When +the father perceived that all hope was over, with a heavy heart he said +to him, “Go thither, and try your luck, for I know no other means of +curing you.” When the son heard that, he rose from his bed and was well +again, and joyfully set out on his way. + +And it came to pass that as he was riding across a heath, he saw from +afar something like a great heap of hay lying on the ground, and when +he drew nearer, he could see that it was the stomach of a man, who had +laid himself down there, but the stomach looked like a small mountain. +When the fat man saw the traveller, he stood up and said, “If you are +in need of any one, take me into your service.” The prince answered, +“What can I do with such a great big man?” “Oh,” said the Stout One, +“this is nothing, when I stretch myself out well, I am three thousand +times fatter.” “If that’s the case,” said the prince, “I can make use +of thee, come with me.” So the Stout One followed the prince, and after +a while they found another man who was lying on the ground with his ear +laid to the turf. “What art thou doing there?” asked the King’s son. “I +am listening,” replied the man. “What art thou listening to so +attentively?” “I am listening to what is just going on in the world, +for nothing escapes my ears; I even hear the grass growing.” “Tell me,” +said the prince, “what thou hearest at the court of the old Queen who +has the beautiful daughter.” Then he answered, “I hear the whizzing of +the sword that is striking off a wooer’s head.” The King’s son said, “I +can make use of thee, come with me.” They went onwards, and then saw a +pair of feet lying and part of a pair of legs, but could not see the +rest of the body. When they had walked on for a great distance, they +came to the body, and at last to the head also. “Why,” said the prince, +“what a tall rascal thou art!” “Oh,” replied the Tall One, “that is +nothing at all yet; when I really stretch out my limbs, I am three +thousand times as tall, and taller than the highest mountain on earth. +I will gladly enter your service, if you will take me.” “Come with me,” +said the prince, “I can make use of thee.” They went onwards and found +a man sitting by the road who had bound up his eyes. The prince said to +him, “Hast thou weak eyes, that thou canst not look at the light?” +“No,” replied the man, “but I must not remove the bandage, for +whatsoever I look at with my eyes, splits to pieces, my glance is so +powerful. If you can use that, I shall be glad to serve you.” “Come +with me,” replied the King’s son, “I can make use of thee.” They +journeyed onwards and found a man who was lying in the hot sunshine, +trembling and shivering all over his body, so that not a limb was +still. “How canst thou shiver when the sun is shining so warm?” said +the King’s son. “Alack,” replied the man, “I am of quite a different +nature. The hotter it is, the colder I am, and the frost pierces +through all my bones; and the colder it is, the hotter I am. In the +midst of ice, I cannot endure the heat, nor in the midst of fire, the +cold.” “Thou art a strange fellow,” said the prince, “but if thou wilt +enter my service, follow me.” They travelled onwards, and saw a man +standing who made a long neck and looked about him, and could see over +all the mountains. “What art thou looking at so eagerly?” said the +King’s son. The man replied, “I have such sharp eyes that I can see +into every forest and field, and hill and valley, all over the world.” +The prince said, “Come with me if thou wilt, for I am still in want of +such an one.” + +And now the King’s son and his six servants came to the town where the +aged Queen dwelt. He did not tell her who he was, but said, “If you +will give me your beautiful daughter, I will perform any task you set +me.” The sorceress was delighted to get such a handsome youth as this +into her net, and said, “I will set thee three tasks, and if thou art +able to perform them all, thou shalt be husband and master of my +daughter.” “What is the first to be?” “Thou shalt fetch me my ring +which I have dropped into the Red Sea.” So the King’s son went home to +his servants and said, “The first task is not easy. A ring is to be got +out of the Red Sea. Come, find some way of doing it.” Then the man with +the sharp sight said, “I will see where it is lying,” and looked down +into the water and said, “It is sticking there, on a pointed stone.” +The Tall One carried them thither, and said, “I would soon get it out, +if I could only see it.” “Oh, is that all!” cried the Stout One, and +lay down and put his mouth to the water, on which all the waves fell +into it just as if it had been a whirlpool, and he drank up the whole +sea till it was as dry as a meadow. The Tall One stooped down a little, +and brought out the ring with his hand. Then the King’s son rejoiced +when he had the ring, and took it to the old Queen. She was astonished, +and said, “Yes, it is the right ring. Thou hast safely performed the +first task, but now comes the second. Dost thou see the meadow in front +of my palace? Three hundred fat oxen are feeding there, and these must +thou eat, skin, hair, bones, horns and all, and down below in my cellar +lie three hundred casks of wine, and these thou must drink up as well, +and if one hair of the oxen, or one little drop of the wine is left, +thy life will be forfeited to me.” “May I invite no guests to this +repast?” inquired the prince, “no dinner is good without some company.” +The old woman laughed maliciously, and replied, “Thou mayst invite one +for the sake of companionship, but no more.” + +The King’s son went to his servants and said to the Stout One, “Thou +shalt be my guest to-day, and shalt eat thy fill.” Hereupon the Stout +One stretched himself out and ate the three hundred oxen without +leaving one single hair, and then he asked if he was to have nothing +but his breakfast. He drank the wine straight from the casks without +feeling any need of a glass, and he licked the last drop from his +finger-nails. When the meal was over, the prince went to the old woman, +and told her that the second task also was performed. She wondered at +this and said, “No one has ever done so much before, but one task still +remains,” and she thought to herself, “Thou shalt not escape me, and +wilt not keep thy head on thy shoulders! This night,” said she, “I will +bring my daughter to thee in thy chamber, and thou shalt put thine arms +round her, but when you are sitting there together, beware of falling +asleep. When twelve o’clock is striking, I will come, and if she is +then no longer in thine arms, thou art lost.” The prince thought, “The +task is easy, I will most certainly keep my eyes open.” Nevertheless he +called his servants, told them what the old woman had said, and +remarked, “Who knows what treachery lurks behind this? Foresight is a +good thing keep watch, and take care that the maiden does not go out of +my room again.” When night fell, the old woman came with her daughter, +and gave her into the princes’s arms, and then the Tall One wound +himself round the two in a circle, and the Stout One placed himself by +the door, so that no living creature could enter. There the two sat, +and the maiden spake never a word, but the moon shone through the +window on her face, and the prince could behold her wondrous beauty. He +did nothing but gaze at her, and was filled with love and happiness, +and his eyes never felt weary. This lasted until eleven o’clock, when +the old woman cast such a spell over all of them that they fell asleep, +and at the self-same moment the maiden was carried away. + +Then they all slept soundly until a quarter to twelve, when the magic +lost its power, and all awoke again. “Oh, misery and misfortune!” cried +the prince, “now I am lost!” The faithful servants also began to +lament, but the Listener said, “Be quiet, I want to listen.” Then he +listened for an instant and said, “She is on a rock, three hundred +leagues from hence, bewailing her fate. Thou alone, Tall One, canst +help her; if thou wilt stand up, thou wilt be there in a couple of +steps.” + +“Yes,” answered the Tall One, “but the one with the sharp eyes must go +with me, that we may destroy the rock.” Then the Tall One took the one +with bandaged eyes on his back, and in the twinkling of an eye they +were on the enchanted rock. The Tall One immediately took the bandage +from the other’s eyes, and he did but look round, and the rock shivered +into a thousand pieces. Then the Tall One took the maiden in his arms, +carried her back in a second, then fetched his companion with the same +rapidity, and before it struck twelve they were all sitting as they had +sat before, quite merrily and happily. When twelve struck, the aged +sorceress came stealing in with a malicious face, which seemed to say, +“Now he is mine!” for she believed that her daughter was on the rock +three hundred leagues off. But when she saw her in the prince’s arms, +she was alarmed, and said, “Here is one who knows more than I do!” She +dared not make any opposition, and was forced to give him her daughter. +But she whispered in her ear, “It is a disgrace to thee to have to obey +common people, and that thou art not allowed to choose a husband to +thine own liking.” + +On this the proud heart of the maiden was filled with anger, and she +meditated revenge. Next morning she caused three hundred great bundles +of wood to be got together, and said to the prince that though the +three tasks were performed, she would still not be his wife until some +one was ready to seat himself in the midst of the wood, and bear the +fire. She thought that none of his servants would let themselves be +burnt for him, and that out of love for her, he himself would place +himself upon it, and then she would be free. But the servants said, +“Every one of us has done something except the Frosty One, he must set +to work,” and they put him in the middle of the pile, and set fire to +it. Then the fire began to burn, and burnt for three days until all the +wood was consumed, and when the flames had burnt out, the Frosty One +was standing amid the ashes, trembling like an aspen leaf, and saying, +“I never felt such a frost during the whole course of my life; if it +had lasted much longer, I should have been benumbed!” + +As no other pretext was to be found, the beautiful maiden was now +forced to take the unknown youth as a husband. But when they drove away +to church, the old woman said, “I cannot endure the disgrace,” and sent +her warriors after them with orders to cut down all who opposed them, +and bring back her daughter. But the Listener had sharpened his ears, +and heard the secret discourse of the old woman. “What shall we do?” +said he to the Stout One. But he knew what to do, and spat out once or +twice behind the carriage some of the sea-water which he had drunk, and +a great sea arose in which the warriors were caught and drowned. When +the sorceress perceived that, she sent her mailed knights; but the +Listener heard the rattling of their armour, and undid the bandage from +one eye of Sharp-eyes, who looked for a while rather fixedly at the +enemy’s troops, on which they all sprang to pieces like glass. Then the +youth and the maiden went on their way undisturbed, and when the two +had been blessed in church, the six servants took leave, and said to +their master, “Your wishes are now satisfied, you need us no longer, we +will go our way and seek our fortunes.” + +Half a league from the palace of the prince’s father was a village near +which a swineherd tended his herd, and when they came thither the +prince said to his wife, “Do you know who I really am? I am no prince, +but a herder of swine, and the man who is there with that herd, is my +father. We two shall have to set to work also, and help him.” Then he +alighted with her at the inn, and secretly told the innkeepers to take +away her royal apparel during the night. So when she awoke in the +morning, she had nothing to put on, and the innkeeper’s wife gave her +an old gown and a pair of worsted stockings, and at the same time +seemed to consider it a great present, and said, “If it were not for +the sake of your husband I should have given you nothing at all!” Then +the princess believed that he really was a swineherd, and tended the +herd with him, and thought to herself, “I have deserved this for my +haughtiness and pride.” This lasted for a week, and then she could +endure it no longer, for she had sores on her feet. And now came a +couple of people who asked if she knew who her husband was. “Yes,” she +answered, “he is a swineherd, and has just gone out with cords and +ropes to try to drive a little bargain.” But they said, “Just come with +us, and we will take you to him,” and they took her up to the palace, +and when she entered the hall, there stood her husband in kingly +raiment. But she did not recognize him until he took her in his arms, +kissed her, and said, “I suffered much for thee and now thou, too, hast +had to suffer for me.” And then the wedding was celebrated, and he who +has told you all this, wishes that he, too, had been present at it. + + + +135 The White Bride and the Black One + +A woman was going about the unenclosed land with her daughter and her +step-daughter cutting fodder, when the Lord came walking towards them +in the form of a poor man, and asked, “Which is the way into the +village?” “If you want to know,” said the mother, “seek it for +yourself,” and the daughter added, “If you are afraid you will not find +it, take a guide with you.” But the step-daughter said, “Poor man, I +will take you there, come with me.” Then God was angry with the mother +and daughter, and turned his back on them, and wished that they should +become as black as night and as ugly as sin. To the poor step-daughter, +however, God was gracious, and went with her, and when they were near +the village, he said a blessing over her, and spake, “Choose three +things for thyself, and I will grant them to thee.” Then said the +maiden, “I should like to be as beautiful and fair as the sun,” and +instantly she was white and fair as day. “Then I should like to have a +purse of money which would never grow empty.” That the Lord gave her +also, but he said, “Do not forget what is best of all.” Said she, “For +my third wish, I desire, after my death, to inhabit the eternal kingdom +of Heaven.” That also was granted unto her, and then the Lord left her. +When the step-mother came home with her daughter, and they saw that +they were both as black as coal and ugly, but that the step-daughter +was white and beautiful, wickedness increased still more in their +hearts, and they thought of nothing else but how they could do her an +injury. The step-daughter, however, had a brother called Reginer, whom +she loved much, and she told him all that had happened. Once on a time +Reginer said to her, “Dear sister, I will take thy likeness, that I may +continually see thee before mine eyes, for my love for thee is so great +that I should like always to look at thee.” Then she answered, “But, I +pray thee, let no one see the picture.” So he painted his sister and +hung up the picture in his room; he, however, dwelt in the King’s +palace, for he was his coachman. Every day he went and stood before the +picture, and thanked God for the happiness of having such a dear +sister. Now it happened that the King whom he served, had just lost his +wife, who had been so beautiful that no one could be found to compare +with her, and on this account the King was in deep grief. The +attendants about the court, however, remarked that the coachman stood +daily before this beautiful picture, and they were jealous of him, so +they informed the King. Then the latter ordered the picture to be +brought to him, and when he saw that it was like his lost wife in every +respect, except that it was still more beautiful, he fell mortally in +love with it. He caused the coachman to be brought before him, and +asked whom the portrait represented? The coachman said it was his +sister, so the King resolved to take no one but her as his wife, and +gave him a carriage and horses and splendid garments of cloth of gold, +and sent him forth to fetch his chosen bride. When Reginer came on this +errand, his sister was glad, but the black maiden was jealous of her +good fortune, and grew angry above all measure, and said to her mother, +“Of what use are all your arts to us now when you cannot procure such a +piece of luck for me?” “Be quiet,” said the old woman, “I will soon +divert it to you,” and by her arts of witchcraft, she so troubled the +eyes of the coachman that he was half-blind, and she stopped the ears +of the white maiden so that she was half-deaf. Then they got into the +carriage, first the bride in her noble royal apparel, then the +step-mother with her daughter, and Reginer sat on the box to drive. +When they had been on the way for some time the coachman cried, + +“Cover thee well, my sister dear, +That the rain may not wet thee, +That the wind may not load thee with dust, +That thou may’st be fair and beautiful +When thou appearest before the King.” + + +The bride asked, “What is my dear brother saying?” “Ah,” said the old +woman, “he says that you ought to take off your golden dress and give +it to your sister.” Then she took it off, and put it on the black +maiden, who gave her in exchange for it a shabby grey gown. They drove +onwards, and a short time afterwards, the brother again cried, + +“Cover thee well, my sister dear, +That the rain may not wet thee, +That the wind may not load thee with dust, +That thou may’st be fair and beautiful +When thou appearest before the King.” + + +The bride asked, “What is my dear brother saying?” “Ah,” said the old +woman, “he says that you ought to take off your golden hood and give it +to your sister.” So she took off the hood and put it on her sister, and +sat with her own head uncovered. And they drove on farther. After a +while, the brother once more cried, + +“Cover thee well, my sister dear, +That the rain may not wet thee, +That the wind may not load thee with dust, +That thou may’st be fair and beautiful +When thou appearest before the King.” + + +The bride asked, “What is my dear brother saying?” “Ah,” said the old +woman, “he says you must look out of the carriage.” They were, however, +just on a bridge, which crossed deep water. When the bride stood up and +leant forward out of the carriage, they both pushed her out, and she +fell into the middle of the water. At the same moment that she sank, a +snow-white duck arose out of the mirror-smooth water, and swam down the +river. The brother had observed nothing of it, and drove the carriage +on until they reached the court. Then he took the black maiden to the +King as his sister, and thought she really was so, because his eyes +were dim, and he saw the golden garments glittering. When the King saw +the boundless ugliness of his intended bride, he was very angry, and +ordered the coachman to be thrown into a pit which was full of adders +and nests of snakes. The old witch, however, knew so well how to +flatter the King and deceive his eyes by her arts, that he kept her and +her daughter until she appeared quite endurable to him, and he really +married her. + +One evening when the black bride was sitting on the King’s knee, a +white duck came swimming up the gutter to the kitchen, and said to the +kitchen-boy, “Boy, light a fire, that I may warm my feathers.” The +kitchen-boy did it, and lighted a fire on the hearth. Then came the +duck and sat down by it, and shook herself and smoothed her feathers to +rights with her bill. While she was thus sitting and enjoying herself, +she asked, “What is my brother Reginer doing?” The scullery-boy +replied, “He is imprisoned in the pit with adders and with snakes.” +Then she asked, “What is the black witch doing in the house?” The boy +answered, “She is loved by the King and happy.” + +“May God have mercy on him,” said the duck, and swam forth by the sink. + +The next night she came again and put the same questions, and the third +night also. Then the kitchen-boy could bear it no longer, and went to +the King and discovered all to him. The King, however, wanted to see it +for himself, and next evening went thither, and when the duck thrust +her head in through the sink, he took his sword and cut through her +neck, and suddenly she changed into a most beautiful maiden, exactly +like the picture, which her brother had made of her. The King was full +of joy, and as she stood there quite wet, he caused splendid apparel to +be brought and had her clothed in it. Then she told how she had been +betrayed by cunning and falsehood, and at last thrown down into the +water, and her first request was that her brother should be brought +forth from the pit of snakes, and when the King had fulfilled this +request, he went into the chamber where the old witch was, and asked, +What does she deserve who does this and that? and related what had +happened. Then was she so blinded that she was aware of nothing and +said, “She deserves to be stripped naked, and put into a barrel with +nails, and that a horse should be harnessed to the barrel, and the +horse sent all over the world.” All of which was done to her, and to +her black daughter. But the King married the white and beautiful bride, +and rewarded her faithful brother, and made him a rich and +distinguished man. + + + +136 Iron John + +There was once on a time a King who had a great forest near his palace, +full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent out a huntsman to +shoot him a roe, but he did not come back. “Perhaps some accident has +befallen him,” said the King, and the next day he sent out two more +huntsmen who were to search for him, but they too stayed away. Then on +the third day, he sent for all his huntsmen, and said, “Scour the whole +forest through, and do not give up until ye have found all three.” But +of these also, none came home again, and of the pack of hounds which +they had taken with them, none were seen more. From that time forth, no +one would any longer venture into the forest, and it lay there in deep +stillness and solitude, and nothing was seen of it, but sometimes an +eagle or a hawk flying over it. This lasted for many years, when a +strange huntsman announced himself to the King as seeking a situation, +and offered to go into the dangerous forest. The King, however, would +not give his consent, and said, “It is not safe in there; I fear it +would fare with thee no better than with the others, and thou wouldst +never come out again.” The huntsman replied, “Lord, I will venture it +at my own risk, of fear I know nothing.” + +The huntsman therefore betook himself with his dog to the forest. It +was not long before the dog fell in with some game on the way, and +wanted to pursue it; but hardly had the dog run two steps when it stood +before a deep pool, could go no farther, and a naked arm stretched +itself out of the water, seized it, and drew it under, When the +huntsman saw that, he went back and fetched three men to come with +buckets and bale out the water. When they could see to the bottom there +lay a wild man whose body was brown like rusty iron, and whose hair +hung over his face down to his knees. They bound him with cords, and +led him away to the castle. There was great astonishment over the wild +man; the King, however, had him put in an iron cage in his court-yard, +and forbade the door to be opened on pain of death, and the Queen +herself was to take the key into her keeping. And from this time forth +every one could again go into the forest with safety. + +The King had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the +court-yard, and while he was playing, his golden ball fell into the +cage. The boy ran thither and said, “Give me my ball out.” “Not till +thou hast opened the door for me,” answered the man. “No,” said the +boy, “I will not do that; the King has forbidden it,” and ran away. The +next day he again went and asked for his ball; the wild man said, “Open +my door,” but the boy would not. On the third day the King had ridden +out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, “I cannot open the +door even if I wished, for I have not the key.” Then the wild man said, +“It lies under thy mother’s pillow, thou canst get it there.” The boy, +who wanted to have his ball back, cast all thought to the winds, and +brought the key. The door opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched +his fingers. When it was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the +golden ball, and hurried away. The boy had become afraid; he called and +cried after him, “Oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall be beaten!” +The wild man turned back, took him up, set him on his shoulder, and +went with hasty steps into the forest. When the King came home, he +observed the empty cage, and asked the Queen how that had happened? She +knew nothing about it, and sought the key, but it was gone. She called +the boy, but no one answered. The King sent out people to seek for him +in the fields, but they did not find him. Then he could easily guess +what had happened, and much grief reigned in the royal court. + +When the wild man had once more reached the dark forest, he took the +boy down from his shoulder, and said to him, “Thou wilt never see thy +father and mother again, but I will keep thee with me, for thou hast +set me free, and I have compassion on thee. If thou dost all I bid +thee, thou shalt fare well. Of treasure and gold have I enough, and +more than anyone in the world.” He made a bed of moss for the boy on +which he slept, and the next morning the man took him to a well, and +said, “Behold, the gold well is as bright and clear as crystal, thou +shalt sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into it, or it +will be polluted. I will come every evening to see if thou hast obeyed +my order.” The boy placed himself by the margin of the well, and often +saw a golden fish or a golden snake show itself therein, and took care +that nothing fell in. As he was thus sitting, his finger hurt him so +violently that he involuntarily put it in the water. He drew it quickly +out again, but saw that it was quite gilded, and whatsoever pains he +took to wash the gold off again, all was to no purpose. In the evening +Iron John came back, looked at the boy, and said, “What has happened to +the well?” “Nothing, nothing,” he answered, and held his finger behind +his back, that the man might not see it. But he said, “Thou hast dipped +thy finger into the water, this time it may pass, but take care thou +dost not again let anything go in.” By daybreak the boy was already +sitting by the well and watching it. His finger hurt him again and he +passed it over his head, and then unhappily a hair fell down into the +well. He took it quickly out, but it was already quite gilded. Iron +John came, and already knew what had happened. “Thou hast let a hair +fall into the well,” said he. “I will allow thee to watch by it once +more, but if this happens for the third time then the well is polluted, +and thou canst no longer remain with me.” + +On the third day, the boy sat by the well, and did not stir his finger, +however much it hurt him. But the time was long to him, and he looked +at the reflection of his face on the surface of the water. And as he +still bent down more and more while he was doing so, and trying to look +straight into the eyes, his long hair fell down from his shoulders into +the water. He raised himself up quickly, but the whole of the hair of +his head was already golden and shone like the sun. You may imagine how +terrified the poor boy was! He took his pocket-handkerchief and tied it +round his head, in order that the man might not see it. When he came he +already knew everything, and said, “Take the handkerchief off.” Then +the golden hair streamed forth, and let the boy excuse himself as he +might, it was of no use. “Thou hast not stood the trial, and canst stay +here no longer. Go forth into the world, there thou wilt learn what +poverty is. But as thou hast not a bad heart, and as I mean well by +thee, there is one thing I will grant thee; if thou fallest into any +difficulty, come to the forest and cry, ‘Iron John,’ and then I will +come and help thee. My power is great, greater than thou thinkest, and +I have gold and silver in abundance.” + +Then the King’s son left the forest, and walked by beaten and unbeaten +paths ever onwards until at length he reached a great city. There he +looked for work, but could find none, and he had learnt nothing by +which he could help himself. At length he went to the palace, and asked +if they would take him in. The people about court did not at all know +what use they could make of him, but they liked him, and told him to +stay. At length the cook took him into his service, and said he might +carry wood and water, and rake the cinders together. Once when it so +happened that no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry +the food to the royal table, but as he did not like to let his golden +hair be seen, he kept his little cap on. Such a thing as that had never +yet come under the King’s notice, and he said, “When thou comest to the +royal table thou must take thy hat off.” He answered, “Ah, Lord, I +cannot; I have a bad sore place on my head.” Then the King had the cook +called before him and scolded him, and asked how he could take such a +boy as that into his service; and that he was to turn him off at once. +The cook, however, had pity on him, and exchanged him for the +gardener’s boy. + +And now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig, and +bear the wind and bad weather. Once in summer when he was working alone +in the garden, the day was so warm he took his little cap off that the +air might cool him. As the sun shone on his hair it glittered and +flashed so that the rays fell into the bed-room of the King’s daughter, +and up she sprang to see what that could be. Then she saw the boy, and +cried to him, “Boy, bring me a wreath of flowers.” He put his cap on +with all haste, and gathered wild field-flowers and bound them +together. When he was ascending the stairs with them, the gardener met +him, and said, “How canst thou take the King’s daughter a garland of +such common flowers? Go quickly, and get another, and seek out the +prettiest and rarest.” “Oh, no,” replied the boy, “the wild ones have +more scent, and will please her better.” When he got into the room, the +King’s daughter said, “Take thy cap off, it is not seemly to keep it on +in my presence.” He again said, “I may not, I have a sore head.” She, +however, caught at his cap and pulled it off, and then his golden hair +rolled down on his shoulders, and it was splendid to behold. He wanted +to run out, but she held him by the arm, and gave him a handful of +ducats. With these he departed, but he cared nothing for the gold +pieces. He took them to the gardener, and said, “I present them to thy +children, they can play with them.” The following day the King’s +daughter again called to him that he was to bring her a wreath of +field-flowers, and when he went in with it, she instantly snatched at +his cap, and wanted to take it away from him, but he held it fast with +both hands. She again gave him a handful of ducats, but he would not +keep them, and gave them to the gardener for playthings for his +children. On the third day things went just the same; she could not get +his cap away from him, and he would not have her money. + +Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The King gathered +together his people, and did not know whether or not he could offer any +opposition to the enemy, who was superior in strength and had a mighty +army. Then said the gardener’s boy, “I am grown up, and will go to the +wars also, only give me a horse.” The others laughed, and said, “Seek +one for thyself when we are gone, we will leave one behind us in the +stable for thee.” When they had gone forth, he went into the stable, +and got the horse out; it was lame of one foot, and limped hobblety +jig, hobblety jig; nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away to the +dark forest. When he came to the outskirts, he called “Iron John,” +three times so loudly that it echoed through the trees. Thereupon the +wild man appeared immediately, and said, “What dost thou desire?” “I +want a strong steed, for I am going to the wars.” “That thou shalt +have, and still more than thou askest for.” Then the wild man went back +into the forest, and it was not long before a stable-boy came out of +it, who led a horse that snorted with its nostrils, and could hardly be +restrained, and behind them followed a great troop of soldiers entirely +equipped in iron, and their swords flashed in the sun. The youth made +over his three-legged horse to the stable-boy, mounted the other, and +rode at the head of the soldiers. When he got near the battle-field a +great part of the King’s men had already fallen, and little was wanting +to make the rest give way. Then the youth galloped thither with his +iron soldiers, broke like a hurricane over the enemy, and beat down all +who opposed him. They began to fly, but the youth pursued, and never +stopped, until there was not a single man left. Instead, however, of +returning to the King, he conducted his troop by bye-ways back to the +forest, and called forth Iron John. “What dost thou desire?” asked the +wild man. “Take back thy horse and thy troops, and give me my +three-legged horse again.” All that he asked was done, and soon he was +riding on his three-legged horse. When the King returned to his palace, +his daughter went to meet him, and wished him joy of his victory. “I am +not the one who carried away the victory,” said he, “but a stranger +knight who came to my assistance with his soldiers.” The daughter +wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the King did not know, +and said, “He followed the enemy, and I did not see him again.” She +inquired of the gardener where his boy was, but he smiled, and said, +“He has just come home on his three-legged horse, and the others have +been mocking him, and crying, “Here comes our hobblety jig back again!” +They asked, too, “Under what hedge hast thou been lying sleeping all +the time?” He, however, said, “I did the best of all, and it would have +gone badly without me.” And then he was still more ridiculed.” + +The King said to his daughter, “I will proclaim a great feast that +shall last for three days, and thou shalt throw a golden apple. Perhaps +the unknown will come to it.” When the feast was announced, the youth +went out to the forest, and called Iron John. “What dost thou desire?” +asked he. “That I may catch the King’s daughter’s golden apple.” “It is +as safe as if thou hadst it already,” said Iron John. “Thou shalt +likewise have a suit of red armour for the occasion, and ride on a +spirited chestnut-horse.” When the day came, the youth galloped to the +spot, took his place amongst the knights, and was recognized by no one. +The King’s daughter came forward, and threw a golden apple to the +knights, but none of them caught it but he, only as soon as he had it +he galloped away. + +On the second day Iron John equipped him as a white knight, and gave +him a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught the apple, and +he did not linger an instant, but galloped off with it. The King grew +angry, and said, “That is not allowed; he must appear before me and +tell his name.” He gave the order that if the knight who caught the +apple, should go away again they should pursue him, and if he would not +come back willingly, they were to cut him down and stab him. + +On the third day, he received from Iron John a suit of black armour and +a black horse, and again he caught the apple. But when he was riding +off with it, the King’s attendants pursued him, and one of them got so +near him that he wounded the youth’s leg with the point of his sword. +The youth nevertheless escaped from them, but his horse leapt so +violently that the helmet fell from the youth’s head, and they could +see that he had golden hair. They rode back and announced this to the +King. + +The following day the King’s daughter asked the gardener about his boy. +“He is at work in the garden; the queer creature has been at the +festival too, and only came home yesterday evening; he has likewise +shown my children three golden apples which he has won.” + +The King had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again had +his little cap on his head. But the King’s daughter went up to him and +took it off, and then his golden hair fell down over his shoulders, and +he was so handsome that all were amazed. “Art thou the knight who came +every day to the festival, always in different colours, and who caught +the three golden apples?” asked the King. “Yes,” answered he, “and here +the apples are,” and he took them out of his pocket, and returned them +to the King. “If you desire further proof, you may see the wound which +your people gave me when they followed me. But I am likewise the knight +who helped you to your victory over your enemies.” “If thou canst +perform such deeds as that, thou art no gardener’s boy; tell me, who is +thy father?” “My father is a mighty King, and gold have I in plenty as +great as I require.” “I well see,” said the King, “that I owe thanks to +thee; can I do anything to please thee?” “Yes,” answered he, “that +indeed you can. Give me your daughter to wife.” The maiden laughed, and +said, “He does not stand much on ceremony, but I have already seen by +his golden hair that he was no gardener’s boy,” and then she went and +kissed him. His father and mother came to the wedding, and were in +great delight, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear +son again. And as they were sitting at the marriage-feast, the music +suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a stately King came in with a +great retinue. He went up to the youth, embraced him and said, “I am +Iron John, and was by enchantment a wild man, but thou hast set me +free; all the treasures which I possess, shall be thy property.” + + + +137 The Three Black Princesses + +East India was besieged by an enemy who would not retire until he had +received six hundred dollars. Then the townsfolk caused it to be +proclaimed by beat of drum that whosoever was able to procure the money +should be burgomaster. Now there was a poor fisherman who fished on the +lake with his son, and the enemy came and took the son prisoner, and +gave the father six hundred dollars for him. So the father went and +gave them to the great men of the town, and the enemy departed, and the +fisherman became burgomaster. Then it was proclaimed that whosoever did +not say, “Mr. Burgomaster,” should be put to death on the gallows. + +The son got away again from the enemy, and came to a great forest on a +high mountain. The mountain opened, and he went into a great enchanted +castle, wherein chairs, tables, and benches were all hung with black. +Then came three young princesses who were entirely dressed in black, +but had a little white on their faces; they told him he was not to be +afraid, they would not hurt him, and that he could deliver them. He +said he would gladly do that, if he did but know how. At this, they +told him he must for a whole year not speak to them and also not look +at them, and what he wanted to have he was just to ask for, and if they +dared give him an answer they would do so. When he had been there for a +long while he said he should like to go to his father, and they told +him he might go. He was to take with him this purse with money, put on +this coat, and in a week he must be back there again. + +Then he was caught up, and was instantly in East India. He could no +longer find his father in the fisherman’s hut, and asked the people +where the poor fisherman could be, and they told him he must not say +that, or he would come to the gallows. Then he went to his father and +said, “Fisherman, how hast thou got here?” Then the father said, “Thou +must not say that, if the great men of the town knew of that, thou +wouldst come to the gallows.” He, however, would not stop, and was +brought to the gallows. When he was there, he said, “O, my masters, +just give me leave to go to the old fisherman’s hut.” Then he put on +his old smock-frock, and came back to the great men, and said, “Do ye +not now see? Am I not the son of the poor fisherman? Did I not earn +bread for my father and mother in this dress?” Hereupon his father knew +him again, and begged his pardon, and took him home with him, and then +he related all that had happened to him, and how he had got into a +forest on a high mountain, and the mountain had opened and he had gone +into an enchanted castle, where all was black, and three young +princesses had come to him who were black except a little white on +their faces. And they had told him not to fear, and that he could +deliver them. Then his mother said that might very likely not be a good +thing to do, and that he ought to take a holy-water vessel with him, +and drop some boiling water on their faces. + +He went back again, and he was in great fear, and he dropped the water +on their faces as they were sleeping, and they all turned half-white. +Then all the three princesses sprang up, and said, “Thou accursed dog, +our blood shall cry for vengeance on thee! Now there is no man born in +the world, nor will any ever be born who can set us free! We have still +three brothers who are bound by seven chains they shall tear thee to +pieces.” Then there was a loud shrieking all over the castle, and he +sprang out of the window, and broke his leg, and the castle sank into +the earth again, the mountain shut to again, and no one knew where the +castle had stood. + + + +138 Knoist and his Three Sons + +Between Werrel and Soist there lived a man whose name was Knoist, and +he had three sons. One was blind, the other lame, and the third +stark-naked. Once on a time they went into a field, and there they saw +a hare. The blind one shot it, the lame one caught it, the naked one +put it in his pocket. Then they came to a mighty big lake, on which +there were three boats, one sailed, one sank, the third had no bottom +to it. They all three got into the one with no bottom to it. Then they +came to a mighty big forest in which there was a mighty big tree; in +the tree was a mighty big chapel in the chapel was a sexton made of +beech-wood and a box-wood parson, who dealt out holy-water with +cudgels. + +“How truly happy is that one +Who can from holy water run!” + + + +139 The Maid of Brakel + +A girl from Brakel once went to St. Anne’s Chapel at the foot of the +Hinnenberg, and as she wanted to have a husband, and thought there was +no one else in the chapel, she sang, + +“Oh, holy Saint Anne! +Help me soon to a man. +Thou know’st him right well, +By Suttmer gate does he dwell, +His hair it is golden, +Thou know’st him right well.” + + +The clerk, however, was standing behind the altar and heard that, so he +cried in a very gruff voice, “Thou shalt not have him! Thou shalt not +have him!” The maiden thought that the child Mary who stood by her +mother Anne had called out that to her, and was angry, and cried, +“Fiddle de dee, conceited thing, hold your tongue, and let your mother +speak!” + + + +140 Domestic Servants + +“Whither goest thou?” “To Walpe.” “I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so, +together we’ll go.” + +“Hast thou a man? What is his name?” “Cham.” “My man Cham, thy man +Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe; so, so, together we’ll go.” “Hast thou +a child; how is he styled?” “Wild.” “My child Wild, thy child Wild; my +man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so, together +we’ll go.” “Hast thou a cradle? How callest thou thy cradle?” +“Hippodadle.” “My cradle Hippodadle, my child Wild, thy child Wild, my +man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so, together +we’ll go.” + +“Hast thou also a drudge? what name has thy drudge?” +“From-thy-work-do-not-budge.” “My drudge, From-thy-work-do-not-budge: +my child Wild, thy child Wild; my man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe, +thou to Walpe; so, so, together we’ll go.” + + + +141 The Lambkin and the Little Fish + +There were once a little brother and a little sister, who loved each +other with all their hearts. Their own mother was, however, dead, and +they had a step-mother, who was not kind to them, and secretly did +everything she could to hurt them. It so happened that the two were +playing with other children in a meadow before the house, and there was +a pond in the meadow which came up to one side of the house. The +children ran about it, and caught each other, and played at counting +out. + +“Eneke Beneke, let me live, +And I to thee my bird will give. +The little bird, it straw shall seek, +The straw I’ll give to the cow to eat. +The pretty cow shall give me milk, +The milk I’ll to the baker take. +The baker he shall bake a cake, +The cake I’ll give unto the cat. +The cat shall catch some mice for that, +The mice I’ll hang up in the smoke, +And then you’ll see the snow.” + + +They stood in a circle while they played this, and the one to whom the +word snow fell, had to run away and all the others ran after him and +caught him. As they were running about so merrily the step-mother +watched them from the window, and grew angry. And as she understood +arts of witchcraft she bewitched them both, and changed the little +brother into a fish, and the little sister into a lamb. Then the fish +swam here and there about the pond and was very sad, and the lambkin +walked up and down the meadow, and was miserable, and could not eat or +touch one blade of grass. Thus passed a long time, and then strangers +came as visitors to the castle. The false step-mother thought, “This is +a good opportunity,” and called the cook and said to him, “Go and fetch +the lamb from the meadow and kill it, we have nothing else for the +visitors.” Then the cook went away and got the lamb, and took it into +the kitchen and tied its feet, and all this it bore patiently. When he +had drawn out his knife and was whetting it on the door-step to kill +the lamb, he noticed a little fish swimming backwards and forwards in +the water, in front of the kitchen-sink and looking up at him. This, +however, was the brother, for when the fish saw the cook take the lamb +away, it followed them and swam along the pond to the house; then the +lamb cried down to it, + +“Ah, brother, in the pond so deep, +How sad is my poor heart! +Even now the cook he whets his knife +To take away my tender life.” + + +The little fish answered, + +“Ah, little sister, up on high +How sad is my poor heart +While in this pond I lie.” + + +When the cook heard that the lambkin could speak and said such sad +words to the fish down below, he was terrified and thought this could +be no common lamb, but must be bewitched by the wicked woman in the +house. Then said he, “Be easy, I will not kill thee,” and took another +sheep and made it ready for the guests, and conveyed the lambkin to a +good peasant woman, to whom he related all that he had seen and heard. + +The peasant was, however, the very woman who had been foster-mother to +the little sister, and she suspected at once who the lamb was, and went +with it to a wise woman. Then the wise woman pronounced a blessing over +the lambkin and the little fish, by means of which they regained their +human forms, and after this she took them both into a little hut in a +great forest, where they lived alone, but were contented and happy. + + + +142 Simeli Mountain + +There were once two brothers, the one rich, the other poor. The rich +one, however, gave nothing to the poor one, and he gained a scanty +living by trading in corn, and often did so badly that he had no bread +for his wife and children. Once when he was wheeling a barrow through +the forest he saw, on one side of him, a great, bare, naked-looking +mountain, and as he had never seen it before, he stood still and stared +at it with amazement. + +While he was thus standing he saw twelve great, wild men coming towards +him, and as he believed they were robbers he pushed his barrow into the +thicket, climbed up a tree, and waited to see what would happen. The +twelve men, however, went to the mountain and cried, “Semsi mountain, +Semsi mountain, open,” and immediately the barren mountain opened down +the middle, and the twelve went into it, and as soon as they were +within, it shut. After a short time, however, it opened again, and the +men came forth carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders, and when they +were all once more in the daylight they said, “Semsi mountain, Semsi +mountain, shut thyself;” then the mountain closed together, and there +was no longer any entrance to be seen to it, and the twelve went away. + +When they were quite out of sight the poor man got down from the tree, +and was curious to know what really was secretly hidden in the +mountain. So he went up to it and said, “Semsi mountain, Semsi +mountain, open,” and the mountain opened to him also. The he went +inside, and the whole mountain was a cavern full of silver and gold, +and behind lay great piles of pearls and sparkling jewels, heaped up +like corn. The poor man hardly knew what to do, and whether he might +take any of these treasures for himself or not; but at last he filled +his pockets with gold, but he left the pearls and precious stones where +they were. When he came out again he also said, “Semsi mountain, Semsi +mountain, shut thyself;” and the mountain closed itself, and he went +home with his barrow. + +And now he had no more cause for anxiety, but could buy bread for his +wife and children with his gold, and wine into the bargain. He lived +joyously and uprightly, gave help to the poor, and did good to every +one. When, however, the money came to an end he went to his brother, +borrowed a measure that held a bushel, and brought himself some more, +but did not touch any of the most valuable things. When for the third +time he wanted to fetch something, he again borrowed the measure of his +brother. The rich man had, however, long been envious of his brother’s +possessions, and of the handsome way of living which he had set on +foot, and could not understand from whence the riches came, and what +his brother wanted with the measure. Then he thought of a cunning +trick, and covered the bottom of the measure with pitch, and when he +got the measure back a piece of money was sticking in it. He at once +went to his brother and asked him, “What hast thou been measuring in +the bushel measure?” “Corn and barley,” said the other. Then he showed +him the piece of money, and threatened that if he did not tell the +truth he would accuse him before a court of justice. The poor man then +told him everything, just as it happened. The rich man, however, +ordered his carriage to be made ready, and drove away, resolved to use +the opportunity better than his brother had done, and to bring back +with him quite different treasures. + +When he came to the mountain he cried, “Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, +open.” The mountain opened, and he went inside it. There lay the +treasures all before him, and for a long time he did not know which to +clutch at first. At length he loaded himself with as many precious +stones as he could carry. He wished to carry his burden outside, but, +as his heart and soul were entirely full of the treasures, he had +forgotten the name of the mountain, and cried, “Simeli mountain, Simeli +mountain, open.” That, however, was not the right name, and the +mountain never stirred, but remained shut. Then he was alarmed, but the +longer he thought about it the more his thoughts confused themselves, +and his treasures were no more of any use to him. In the evening the +mountain opened, and the twelve robbers came in, and when they saw him +they laughed, and cried out, “Bird, have we caught thee at last! Didst +thou think we had never noticed that thou hadst been in here twice? We +could not catch thee then; this third time thou shalt not get out +again!” Then he cried, “It was not I, it was my brother,” but let him +beg for his life and say what he would, they cut his head off. + + + +143 Going A-Travelling + +There was once a poor woman who had a son, who much wished to travel, +but his mother said, “How canst thou travel? We have no money at all +for thee to take away with thee.” Then said the son, “I will manage +very well for myself; I will always say, Not much, not much, not much.” + +So he walked for a long time and always said, “Not much, not much, not +much.” Then he passed by a company of fishermen and said, “God speed +you! not much, not much, not much.” “What sayst thou churl, ‘not +much?’” And when the net was drawn out they had not caught much fish. +So one of them fell on the youth with a stick and said, “Hast thou +never seen me threshing?” “What ought I to say, then?” asked the youth. +“Thou must say, ‘Get it full, get it full.’” After this he again walked +a long time, and said, “Get it full, get it full,” until he came to the +gallows, where they had got a poor sinner whom they were about to hang. +Then said he, “Good morning; get it full, get it full.” “What sayst +thou, knave, get it full? Dost thou want to make out that there are +still more wicked people in the world is not this enough?” And he again +got some blows on his back. “What am I to say, then?” said he. “Thou +must say, may God have pity on the poor soul.” + +Again the youth walked on for a long while and said, “May God have pity +on the poor soul!” Then he came to a pit by which stood a knacker who +was cutting up a horse. The youth said, “Good morning; God have pity on +the poor soul!” “What dost thou say, thou ill-tempered knave?” and the +knacker gave him such a box on the ear, that he could not see out of +his eyes. “What am I to say, then?” “Thou must say, ‘There lies the +carrion in the pit!’” + +So he walked on, and always said, “There lies the carrion in the pit, +there lies the carrion in the pit.” And he came to a cart full of +people, so he said, “Good morning, there lies the carrion in the pit!” +Then the cart pushed him into a hole, and the driver took his whip and +cracked it upon the youth, till he was forced to crawl back to his +mother, and as long as he lived he never went out a-travelling again. + + + +144 The Donkey + +Once on a time there lived a King and a Queen, who were rich, and had +everything they wanted, but no children. The Queen lamented over this +day and night, and said, “I am like a field on which nothing grows.” At +last God gave her her wish, but when the child came into the world, it +did not look like a human child, but was a little donkey. When the +mother saw that, her lamentations and outcries began in real earnest; +she said she would far rather have had no child at all than have a +donkey, and that they were to throw it into the water that the fishes +might devour it. But the King said, “No, since God has sent him he +shall be my son and heir, and after my death sit on the royal throne, +and wear the kingly crown.” The donkey, therefore, was brought up and +grew bigger, and his ears grew up beautifully high and straight. He +was, however, of a merry disposition, jumped about, played and had +especial pleasure in music, so that he went to a celebrated musician +and said, “Teach me thine art, that I may play the lute as well as thou +dost.” “Ah, dear little master,” answered the musician, “that would +come very hard to you, your fingers are certainly not suited to it, and +are far too big. I am afraid the strings would not last.” No excuses +were of any use. The donkey was determined to play the lute; he was +persevering and industrious, and at last learnt to do it as well as the +master himself. The young lordling once went out walking full of +thought and came to a well, he looked into it and in the mirror-clear +water saw his donkey’s form. He was so distressed about it, that he +went out into the wide world and only took with him one faithful +companion. They travelled up and down, and at last they came into a +kingdom where an old King reigned who had an only but wonderfully +beautiful daughter. The donkey said, “Here we will stay,” knocked at +the gate, and cried, “A guest is without open, that he may enter.” As, +however, the gate was not opened, he sat down, took his lute and played +it in the most delightful manner with his two fore-feet. Then the +door-keeper opened his eyes most wonderfully wide, and ran to the King +and said, “Outside by the gate sits a young donkey which plays the lute +as well as an experienced master!” “Then let the musician come to me,” +said the King. When, however, a donkey came in, every one began to +laugh at the lute-player. And now the donkey was asked to sit down and +eat with the servants. He, however, was unwilling, and said, “I am no +common stable-ass, I am a noble one.” Then they said, “If that is what +thou art, seat thyself with the men of war.” “No,” said he, “I will sit +by the King.” The King smiled, and said good-humouredly, “Yes, it shall +be as thou wilt, little ass, come here to me.” Then he asked, “Little +ass, how does my daughter please thee?” The donkey turned his head +towards her, looked at her, nodded and said, “I like her above measure, +I have never yet seen anyone so beautiful as she is.” “Well, then, thou +shalt sit next her too,” said the King. “That is exactly what I wish,” +said the donkey, and he placed himself by her side, ate and drank, and +knew how to behave himself daintily and cleanly. When the noble beast +had stayed a long time at the King’s court, he thought, “What good does +all this do me, I shall still have to go home again?” let his head hang +sadly, and went to the King and asked for his dismissal. But the King +had grown fond of him, and said, “Little ass, what ails thee? Thou +lookest as sour as a jug of vinegar, I will give thee what thou +wantest. Dost thou want gold?” “No,” said the donkey, and shook his +head. “Dost thou want jewels and rich dress?” “No.” “Dost thou wish for +half my kingdom?” “Indeed, no.” Then said the King, “if I did but know +what would make thee content. Wilt thou have my pretty daughter to +wife?” “Ah, yes,” said the ass, “I should indeed like her,” and all at +once he became quite merry and full of happiness, for that was exactly +what he was wishing for. So a great and splendid wedding was held. In +the evening, when the bride and bridegroom were led into their +bed-room, the King wanted to know if the ass would behave well, and +ordered a servant to hide himself there. When they were both within, +the bridegroom bolted the door, looked around, and as he believed that +they were quite alone, he suddenly threw off his ass’s skin, and stood +there in the form of a handsome royal youth. “Now,” said he, “thou +seest who I am, and seest also that I am not unworthy of thee.” Then +the bride was glad, and kissed him, and loved him dearly. When morning +came, he jumped up, put his animal’s skin on again, and no one could +have guessed what kind of a form was hidden beneath it. Soon came the +old King, “Ah,” cried he, “is the little ass merry? But surely thou art +sad?” said he to his daughter, “that thou hast not got a proper man for +thy husband?” “Oh, no, dear father, I love him as well as if he were +the handsomest in the world, and I will keep him as long as I live.” +The King was surprised, but the servant who had concealed himself came +and revealed everything to him. The King said, “That cannot be true.” +“Then watch yourself the next night, and you will see it with your own +eyes; and hark you, lord King, if you were to take his skin away and +throw it in the fire, he would be forced to show himself in his true +shape.” “Thy advice is good,” said the King, and at night when they +were asleep, he stole in, and when he got to the bed he saw by the +light of the moon a noble-looking youth lying there, and the skin lay +stretched on the ground. So he took it away, and had a great fire +lighted outside, and threw the skin into it, and remained by it himself +until it was all burnt to ashes. As, however, he was anxious to know +how the robbed man would behave himself, he stayed awake the whole +night and watched. When the youth had slept his sleep out, he got up by +the first light of morning, and wanted to put on the ass’s skin, but it +was not to be found. On this he was alarmed, and, full of grief and +anxiety, said, “Now I shall have to contrive to escape.” But when he +went out, there stood the King, who said, “My son, whither away in such +haste? what hast thou in mind? Stay here, thou art such a handsome man, +thou shalt not go away from me. I will now give thee half my kingdom, +and after my death thou shalt have the whole of it.” “Then I hope that +what begins so well may end well, and I will stay with you,” said the +youth. And the old man gave him half the kingdom, and in a year’s time, +when he died, the youth had the whole, and after the death of his +father he had another kingdom as well, and lived in all magnificence. + + + +145 The Ungrateful Son + +A man and his wife were once sitting by the door of their house, and +they had a roasted chicken set before them, and were about to eat it +together. Then the man saw that his aged father was coming, and hastily +took the chicken and hid it, for he would not permit him to have any of +it. The old man came, took a drink, and went away. Now the son wanted +to put the roasted chicken on the table again, but when he took it up, +it had become a great toad, which jumped into his face and sat there +and never went away again, and if any one wanted to take it off, it +looked venomously at him as if it would jump in his face, so that no +one would venture to touch it. And the ungrateful son was forced to +feed the toad every day, or else it fed itself on his face; and thus he +went about the world without knowing rest. + + + +146 The Turnip + +There were once two brothers who both served as soldiers; one of them +was rich, and the other poor. Then the poor one, to escape from his +poverty, put off his soldier’s coat, and turned farmer. He dug and hoed +his bit of land, and sowed it with turnip-seed. The seed came up, and +one turnip grew there which became large and vigorous, and visibly grew +bigger and bigger, and seemed as if it would never stop growing, so +that it might have been called the princess of turnips, for never was +such an one seen before, and never will such an one be seen again. + +At length it was so enormous that by itself it filled a whole cart, and +two oxen were required to draw it, and the farmer had not the least +idea what he was to do with the turnip, or whether it would be a +fortune to him or a misfortune. At last he thought, “If thou sellest +it, what wilt thou get for it that is of any importance, and if thou +eatest it thyself, why, the small turnips would do thee just as much +good; it would be better to take it to the King, and make him a present +of it.” + +So he placed it on a cart, harnessed two oxen, took it to the palace, +and presented it to the King. “What strange thing is this?” said the +King. “Many wonderful things have come before my eyes, but never such a +monster as this! From what seed can this have sprung, or are you a +luck-child and have met with it by chance?” “Ah, no!” said the farmer, +“no luck-child am I. I am a poor soldier, who because he could no +longer support himself hung his soldier’s coat on a nail and took to +farming land. I have a brother who is rich and well known to you, Lord +King, but I, because I have nothing, am forgotten by every one.” + +Then the King felt compassion for him, and said, “Thou shalt be raised +from thy poverty, and shalt have such gifts from me that thou shalt be +equal to thy rich brother.” Then he bestowed on him much gold, and +lands, and meadows, and herds, and made him immensely rich, so that the +wealth of the other brother could not be compared with his. When the +rich brother heard what the poor one had gained for himself with one +single turnip, he envied him, and thought in every way how he also +could get hold of a similar piece of luck. He would, however, set about +it in a much wiser way, and took gold and horses and carried them to +the King, and made certain the King would give him a much larger +present in return. If his brother had got so much for one turnip, what +would he not carry away with him in return for such beautiful things as +these? The King accepted his present, and said he had nothing to give +him in return that was more rare and excellent than the great turnip. +So the rich man was obliged to put his brother’s turnip in a cart and +have it taken to his home. When there he did not know on whom to vent +his rage and anger, until bad thoughts came to him, and he resolved to +kill his brother. He hired murderers, who were to lie in ambush, and +then he went to his brother and said, “Dear brother, I know of a hidden +treasure, we will dig it up together, and divide it between us.” The +other agreed to this, and accompanied him without suspicion. While they +were on their way, however, the murderers fell on him, bound him, and +would have hanged him to a tree. But just as they were doing this, loud +singing and the sound of a horse’s feet were heard in the distance. On +this their hearts were filled with terror, and they pushed their +prisoner head first into the sack, hung it on a branch, and took to +flight. He, however, worked up there until he had made a hole in the +sack through which he could put his head. The man who was coming by was +no other than a travelling student, a young fellow who rode on his way +through the wood joyously singing his song. When he who was aloft saw +that someone was passing below him, he cried, “Good day! You have come +at a lucky time.” The student looked round on every side, but did not +know whence the voice came. At last he said, “Who calls me?” Then an +answer came from the top of the tree, “Raise your eyes; here I sit +aloft in the Sack of Wisdom. In a short time have I learnt great +things; compared with this all schools are a jest; in a very short time +I shall have learnt everything, and shall descend wiser than all other +men. I understand the stars, and the signs of the Zodiac, and the +tracks of the winds, the sand of the sea, the healing of illness, and +the virtues of all herbs, birds, and stones. If you were once within it +you would feel what noble things issue forth from the Sack of +Knowledge.” + +The student, when he heard all this, was astonished, and said, “Blessed +be the hour in which I have found thee! May not I also enter the sack +for a while?” He who was above replied as if unwillingly, “For a short +time I will let you get into it, if you reward me and give me good +words; but you must wait an hour longer, for one thing remains which I +must learn before I do it.” When the student had waited a while he +became impatient, and begged to be allowed to get in at once, his +thirst for knowledge was so very great. So he who was above pretended +at last to yield, and said, “In order that I may come forth from the +house of knowledge you must let it down by the rope, and then you shall +enter it.” So the student let the sack down, untied it, and set him +free, and then cried, “Now draw me up at once,” and was about to get +into the sack. “Halt!” said the other, “that won’t do,” and took him by +the head and put him upside down into the sack, fastened it, and drew +the disciple of wisdom up the tree by the rope. Then he swung him in +the air and said, “How goes it with thee, my dear fellow? Behold, +already thou feelest wisdom coming, and art gaining valuable +experience. Keep perfectly quiet until thou becomest wiser.” Thereupon +he mounted the student’s horse and rode away, but in an hour’s time +sent some one to let the student out again. + + + +147 The Old Man Made Young Again + +In the time when our Lord still walked this earth, he and St. Peter +stopped one evening at a smith’s and received free quarters. Then it +came to pass that a poor beggar, hardly pressed by age and infirmity, +came to this house and begged alms of the smith. St. Peter had +compassion on him and said, “Lord and master, if it please thee, cure +his torments that he may be able to win his own bread.” The Lord said +kindly, “Smith, lend me thy forge, and put on some coals for me, and +then I will make this ailing old man young again.” The smith was quite +willing, and St. Peter blew the bellows, and when the coal fire +sparkled up large and high our Lord took the little old man, pushed him +in the forge in the midst of the red-hot fire, so that he glowed like a +rose-bush, and praised God with a loud voice. After that the Lord went +to the quenching tub, put the glowing little man into it so that the +water closed over him, and after he had carefully cooled him, gave him +his blessing, when behold the little man sprang nimbly out, looking +fresh, straight, healthy, and as if he were but twenty. The smith, who +had watched everything closely and attentively, invited them all to +supper. He, however, had an old half-blind crooked, mother-in-law who +went to the youth, and with great earnestness asked if the fire had +burnt him much. He answered that he had never felt more comfortable, +and that he had sat in the red heat as if he had been in cool dew. The +youth’s words echoed in the ears of the old woman all night long, and +early next morning, when the Lord had gone on his way again and had +heartily thanked the smith, the latter thought he might make his old +mother-in-law young again likewise, as he had watched everything so +carefully, and it lay in the province of his trade. So he called to ask +her if she, too, would like to go bounding about like a girl of +eighteen. She said, “With all my heart, as the youth has come out of it +so well.” So the smith made a great fire, and thrust the old woman into +it, and she writhed about this way and that, and uttered terrible cries +of murder. “Sit still; why art thou screaming and jumping about so?” +cried he, and as he spoke he blew the bellows again until all her rags +were burnt. The old woman cried without ceasing, and the smith thought +to himself, “I have not quite the right art,” and took her out and +threw her into the cooling-tub. Then she screamed so loudly that the +smith’s wife upstairs and her daughter-in-law heard, and they both ran +downstairs, and saw the old woman lying in a heap in the quenching-tub, +howling and screaming, with her face wrinkled and shrivelled and all +out of shape. Thereupon the two, who were both with child, were so +terrified that that very night two boys were born who were not made +like men but apes, and they ran into the woods, and from them sprang +the race of apes. + + + +148 The Lord’s Animals and the Devil’s + +The Lord God had created all animals, and had chosen out the wolf to be +his dog, but he had forgotten the goat. Then the Devil made ready and +began to create also, and created goats with fine long tails. Now when +they went to pasture, they generally remained caught in the hedges by +their tails, then the Devil had to go there and disentangle them, with +a great deal of trouble. This enraged him at last, and he went and bit +off the tail of every goat, as may be seen to this day by the stump. +Then he let them go to pasture alone, but it came to pass that the Lord +God perceived how at one time they gnawed away at a fruitful tree, at +another injured the noble vines, or destroyed other tender plants. This +distressed him, so that in his goodness and mercy he summoned his +wolves, who soon tore in pieces the goats that went there. When the +devil observed this, he went before the Lord and said, “Thy creatures +have destroyed mine.” The Lord answered, “Why didst thou create things +to do harm?” The Devil said, “I was compelled to do it: inasmuch as my +thoughts run on evil, what I create can have no other nature, and thou +must pay me heavy damages.” “I will pay thee as soon as the oak leaves +fall; come then, thy money will then be ready counted out.” When the +oak-leaves had fallen, the Devil came and demanded what was due to him. +But the Lord said, “In the church of Constantinople stands a tall +oak-tree which still has all its leaves.” With raging and curses, the +Devil departed, and went to seek the oak, wandered in the wilderness +for six months before he found it, and when he returned, all the oaks +had in the meantime covered themselves again with green leaves. Then he +had to forfeit his indemnity, and in his rage he put out the eyes of +all the remaining goats, and put his own in instead. + +This is why all goats have devil’s eyes, and their tails bitten off, +and why he likes to assume their shape. + + + +149 The Beam + +There was once an enchanter who was standing in the midst of a great +crowd of people performing his wonders. He had a cock brought in, which +lifted a heavy beam and carried it as if it were as light as a feather. +But a girl was present who had just found a bit of four-leaved clover, +and had thus become so wise that no deception could stand out against +her, and she saw that the beam was nothing but a straw. So she cried, +“You people, do you not see that it is a straw that the cock is +carrying, and no beam?” Immediately the enchantment vanished, and the +people saw what it was, and drove the magician away in shame and +disgrace. He, however, full of inward anger, said, “I will soon revenge +myself.” + +After some time the girl’s wedding-day came, and she was decked out, +and went in a great procession over the fields to the place where the +church was. All at once she came to a stream which was very much +swollen, and there was no bridge and no plank to cross it. Then the +bride nimbly took her clothes up, and wanted to wade through it. And +just as she was thus standing in the water, a man, and it was the +enchanter, cried mockingly close beside her, “Aha! Where are thine eyes +that thou takest that for water?” Then her eyes were opened, and she +saw that she was standing with her clothes lifted up in the middle of a +field that was blue with the flowers of blue flax. Then all the people +saw it likewise, and chased her away with ridicule and laughter. + + + +150 The Old Beggar-Woman + +There was once an old woman, but thou hast surely seen an old woman go +a-begging before now? This woman begged likewise, and when she got +anything she said, “May God reward you.” The beggar-woman came to a +door, and there by the fire a friendly rogue of a boy was standing +warming himself. The boy said kindly to the poor old woman as she was +standing shivering thus by the door, “Come, old mother, and warm +yourself.” She came in, but stood too near the fire, so that her old +rags began to burn, and she was not aware of it. The boy stood and saw +that, but he ought to have put the flames out. Is it not true that he +ought to have put them out? And if he had not any water, then should he +have wept all the water in his body out of his eyes, and that would +have supplied two pretty streams with which to extinguish them. + + + +151 The Three Sluggards + +A certain King had three sons who were all equally dear to him, and he +did not know which of them to appoint as his successor after his own +death. When the time came when he was about to die, he summoned them to +his bedside and said, “Dear children, I have been thinking of something +which I will declare unto you; whichsoever of you is the laziest shall +have the kingdom.” The eldest said, “Then, father, the kingdom is mine, +for I am so idle that if I lie down to rest, and a drop falls in my +eye, I will not open it that I may sleep.” The second said; “Father, +the kingdom belongs to me, for I am so idle that when I am sitting by +the fire warming myself, I would rather let my heel be burnt off than +draw back my leg.” The third said, “Father, the kingdom is mine, for I +am so idle that if I were going to be hanged, and had the rope already +round my neck, and any one put a sharp knife into my hand with which I +might cut the rope, I would rather let myself be hanged than raise my +hand to the rope.” When the father heard that, he said, “Thou hast +carried it the farthest, and shalt be King.” + + + +151* The Twelve Idle Servants + +Twelve servants who had done nothing all the day would not exert +themselves at night either, but laid themselves on the grass and +boasted of their idleness. The first said, “What is your laziness to +me, I have to concern myself about mine own? The care of my body is my +principal work, I eat not a little and drink still more. When I have +had four meals, I fast a short time until I feel hunger again, and that +suits me best. To rise betimes is not for me; when it is getting near +mid-day, I already seek out a resting-place for myself. If the master +call, I do exactly as if I had not heard him, and if he call for the +second time, I wait awhile before I get up, and go to him very slowly. +In this way life is endurable.” + +The second said, “I have a horse to look after, but I leave the bit in +his mouth, and if I do not want to do it, I give him no food, and I say +he has had it already. I, however, lay myself in the oat-chest and +sleep for four hours. After this I stretch out one foot and move it a +couple of times over the horse’s body, and then he is combed and +cleaned. Who is going to make a great business of that? Nevertheless +service is too toilsome for me.” + +The third said, “Why plague oneself with work? Nothing comes of it! I +laid myself in the sun, and fell asleep. It began to rain a little, but +why should I get up? I let it rain on in God’s name. At last came a +splashing shower, so heavy indeed, that it pulled the hair out of my +head and washed it away, and I got a hole in the skull; I put a plaster +on it, and then it was all right. I have already had several injuries +of that kind.” + +The fourth said, “If I am to undertake a piece of work, I first loiter +about for an hour that I may save up my strength. After that I begin +quite slowly, and ask if no one is there who could help me. Then I let +him do the chief of the work, and in reality only look on; but that +also is still too much for me.” + +The fifth said, “What does that matter? Just think, I am to take away +the manure from the horse’s stable, and load the cart with it. I let it +go on slowly, and if I have taken anything on the fork, I only +half-raise it up, and then I rest just a quarter of an hour until I +quite throw it in. It is enough and to spare if I take out a cartful in +the day. I have no fancy for killing myself with work.” + +The sixth said, “Shame on ye; I am afraid of no work, but I lie down +for three weeks, and never once take my clothes off. What is the use of +buckling your shoes on? For aught I care they may fall off my feet, it +is no matter. If I am going up some steps, I drag one foot slowly after +the other on to the first step, and then I count the rest of them that +I may know where I must rest.” + +The seventh said, “That will not do with me; my master looks after my +work, only he is not at home the whole day. But I neglect nothing, I +run as fast as it is possible to do when one crawls. If I am to get on, +four sturdy men must push me with all their might. I came where six men +were lying sleeping on a bed beside each other. I lay down by them and +slept too. There was no wakening me again, and when they wanted to have +me home, they had to carry me.” The eighth said, “I see plainly that I +am the only active fellow; if a stone lie before me, I do not give +myself the trouble to raise my legs and step over it. I lay myself down +on the ground, and if I am wet and covered with mud and dirt, I stay +lying until the sun has dried me again. At the very most, I only turn +myself so that it can shine on me.” The ninth said, “That is the right +way! To-day the bread was before me, but I was too idle to take it, and +nearly died of hunger! Moreover a jug stood by it, but it was so big +and heavy that I did not like to lift it up, and preferred bearing +thirst. Just to turn myself round was too much for me, I remained lying +like a log the whole day.” The tenth said, “Laziness has brought +misfortune on me, a broken leg and swollen calf. Three of us were lying +in the road, and I had my legs stretched out. Some one came with a +cart, and the wheels went over me. I might indeed have drawn my legs +back, but I did not hear the cart coming, for the midges were humming +about my ears, and creeping in at my nose and out again at my mouth; +who can take the trouble to drive the vermin away?” + +The eleventh said, “I gave up my place yesterday. I had no fancy for +carrying the heavy books to my master any longer or fetching them away +again. There was no end of it all day long. But to tell the truth, he +gave me my dismissal, and would not keep me any longer, for his +clothes, which I had left lying in the dust, were all moth-eaten, and I +am very glad of it.” + +The twelfth said, “To-day I had to drive the cart into the country, and +made myself a bed of straw on it, and had a good sleep. The reins +slipped out of my hand, and when I awoke, the horse had nearly torn +itself loose, the harness was gone, the strap which fastened the horse +to the shafts was gone, and so were the collar, the bridle and bit. +Some one had come by, who had carried all off. Besides this, the cart +had got into a quagmire and stuck fast. I left it standing, and +stretched myself on the straw again. At last the master came himself, +and pushed the cart out, and if he had not come I should not be lying +here but there, and sleeping in full tranquillity.” + + + +152 The Shepherd Boy + +There was once on a time a shepherd boy whose fame spread far and wide +because of the wise answers which he gave to every question. The King +of the country heard of it likewise, but did not believe it, and sent +for the boy. Then he said to him, “If thou canst give me an answer to +three questions which I will ask thee, I will look on thee as my own +child, and thou shalt dwell with me in my royal palace.” The boy said, +“What are the three questions?” The King said, “The first is, how many +drops of water are there in the ocean?” The shepherd boy answered, +“Lord King, if you will have all the rivers on earth dammed up so that +not a single drop runs from them into the sea until I have counted it, +I will tell you how many drops there are in the sea.” The King said, +“The next question is, how many stars are there in the sky?” The +shepherd boy said, “Give me a great sheet of white paper,” and then he +made so many fine points on it with a pen that they could scarcely be +seen, and it was all but impossible to count them; any one who looked +at them would have lost his sight. Then he said, “There are as many +stars in the sky as there are points on the paper; just count them.” +But no one was able to do it. The King said, “The third question is, +how many seconds of time are there in eternity.” Then said the shepherd +boy, “In Lower Pomerania is the Diamond Mountain, which is two miles +and a half high, two miles and a half wide, and two miles and a half in +depth; every hundred years a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on +it, and when the whole mountain is worn away by this, then the first +second of eternity will be over.” + +The King said, “Thou hast answered the three questions like a wise man, +and shalt henceforth dwell with me in my royal palace, and I will +regard thee as my own child.” + + + +153 The Star-Money + +There was once on a time a little girl whose father and mother were +dead, and she was so poor that she no longer had any little room to +live in, or bed to sleep in, and at last she had nothing else but the +clothes she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her hand which +some charitable soul had given her. She was, however, good and pious. +And as she was thus forsaken by all the world, she went forth into the +open country, trusting in the good God. Then a poor man met her, who +said, “Ah, give me something to eat, I am so hungry!” She reached him +the whole of her piece of bread, and said, “May God bless it to thy +use,” and went onwards. Then came a child who moaned and said, “My head +is so cold, give me something to cover it with.” So she took off her +hood and gave it to him; and when she had walked a little farther, she +met another child who had no jacket and was frozen with cold. Then she +gave it her own; and a little farther on one begged for a frock, and +she gave away that also. At length she got into a forest and it had +already become dark, and there came yet another child, and asked for a +little shirt, and the good little girl thought to herself, “It is a +dark night and no one sees thee, thou canst very well give thy little +shirt away,” and took it off, and gave away that also. And as she so +stood, and had not one single thing left, suddenly some stars from +heaven fell down, and they were nothing else but hard smooth pieces of +money, and although she had just given her little shirt away, she had a +new one which was of the very finest linen. Then she gathered together +the money into this, and was rich all the days of her life. + + + +154 The Stolen Farthings + +A father was one day sitting at dinner with his wife and his children, +and a good friend who had come on a visit was with them. And as they +thus sat, and it was striking twelve o’clock, the stranger saw the door +open, and a very pale child dressed in snow-white clothes came in. It +did not look around, and it did not speak; but went straight into the +next room. Soon afterwards it came back, and went out at the door again +in the same quiet manner. On the second and on the third day, it came +also exactly in the same way. At last the stranger asked the father to +whom the beautiful child that went into the next room every day at noon +belonged? “I have never seen it,” said he, neither did he know to whom +it could belong. The next day when it again came, the stranger pointed +it out to the father, who however did not see it, and the mother and +the children also all saw nothing. On this the stranger got up, went to +the room door, opened it a little, and peeped in. Then he saw the child +sitting on the ground, and digging and seeking about industriously +amongst the crevices between the boards of the floor, but when it saw +the stranger, it disappeared. He now told what he had seen and +described the child exactly, and the mother recognized it, and said, +“Ah, it is my dear child who died a month ago.” They took up the boards +and found two farthings which the child had once received from its +mother that it might give them to a poor man; it, however, had thought, +“Thou canst buy thyself a biscuit for that,” and had kept the +farthings, and hidden them in the openings between the boards; and +therefore it had had no rest in its grave, and had come every day at +noon to seek for these farthings. The parents gave the money at once to +a poor man, and after that the child was never seen again. + + + +155 Brides On Their Trial + +There was once a young shepherd who wished much to marry, and was +acquainted with three sisters who were all equally pretty, so that it +was difficult to him to make a choice, and he could not decide to give +the preference to any one of them. Then he asked his mother for advice, +and she said, “Invite all three, and set some cheese before them, and +watch how they eat it.” The youth did so; the first, however, swallowed +the cheese with the rind on; the second hastily cut the rind off the +cheese, but she cut it so quickly that she left much good cheese with +it, and threw that away also; the third peeled the rind off carefully, +and cut neither too much nor too little. The shepherd told all this to +his mother, who said, “Take the third for thy wife.” This he did, and +lived contentedly and happily with her. + + + +156 Odds And Ends + +There was once on a time a maiden who was pretty, but idle and +negligent. When she had to spin she was so out of temper that if there +was a little knot in the flax, she at once pulled out a whole heap of +it, and strewed it about on the ground beside her. Now she had a +servant who was industrious, and gathered together the bits of flax +which were thrown away, cleaned them, span them fine, and had a +beautiful gown made out of them for herself. A young man had wooed the +lazy girl, and the wedding was to take place. On the eve of the +wedding, the industrious one was dancing merrily about in her pretty +dress, and the bride said,— + +“Ah, how that girl does jump about, dressed in my odds and ends.” + +The bridegroom heard that, and asked the bride what she meant by it? +Then she told him that the girl was wearing a dress make of the flax +which she had thrown away. When the bridegroom heard that, and saw how +idle she was, and how industrious the poor girl was, he gave her up and +went to the other, and chose her as his wife. + + + +157 The Sparrow And His Four Children + +A sparrow had four young ones in a swallow’s nest. When they were +fledged, some naughty boys pulled out the nest, but fortunately all the +birds got safely away in the high wind. Then the old bird was grieved +that as his sons had all gone out into the world, he had not first +warned them of every kind of danger, and given them good instruction +how to deal with each. In the autumn a great many sparrows assembled +together in a wheatfield, and there the old bird met his four children +again, and full of joy took them home with him. “Ah, my dear sons, what +pain I have been in about you all through the summer, because you got +away in the wind without my teaching; listen to my words, obey your +father, and be well on your guard. Little birds have to encounter great +dangers!” And then he asked the eldest where he had spent the summer, +and how he had supported himself? “I stayed in the gardens, and looked +for caterpillars and small worms, until the cherries got ripe.” “Ah, my +son,” said the father, “tit-bits are not bad, but there is great risk +about them; on that account take great care of thyself henceforth, and +particularly when people are going about the gardens who carry long +green poles which are hollow inside and have a little hole at the top.” +“Yes, father, but what if a little green leaf is stuck over the hole +with wax?” said the son. “Where hast thou seen that?” “In a merchant’s +garden,” said the youngster. “Oh, my son, merchant folks are quick +folks,” said the father. “If thou hast been among the children of the +world, thou hast learned worldly shiftiness enough, only see that thou +usest it well, and do not be too confident.” After this he asked the +next, “Where hast thou passed thy time?” “At court,” said the son. +“Sparrows and silly little birds are of no use in that place—there one +finds much gold, velvet, silk, armour, harnesses, sparrow-hawks, +screech-owls and hen-harriers; keep to the horses’ stable where they +winnow oats, or thresh, and then fortune may give thee thy daily grain +of corn in peace.” “Yes, father,” said the son, “but when the +stable-boys make traps and fix their gins and snares in the straw, many +a one is caught fast.” “Where hast thou seen that?” said the old bird. +“At court, among the stable-boys.” “Oh, my son, court boys are bad +boys! If thou hast been to court and among the lords, and hast left no +feathers there, thou hast learnt a fair amount, and wilt know very well +how to go about the world, but look around thee and above thee, for the +wolves devour the wisest dogs.” The father examined the third also: +“Where didst thou seek thy safety?” “I have broken up tubs and ropes on +the cart-roads and highways, and sometimes met with a grain of corn or +barley.” “That is indeed dainty fare,” said the father, “but take care +what thou art about and look carefully around, especially when thou +seest any one stooping and about to pick up a stone, there is not much +time to stay then.” “That is true,” said the son, “but what if any one +should carry a bit of rock, or ore, ready beforehand in his breast or +pocket?” “Where hast thou seen that?” “Among the mountaineers, dear +father; when they go out, they generally take little bits of ore with +them.” “Mountain folks are working folks, and clever folks. If thou +hast been among mountain lads, thou hast seen and learnt something, but +when thou goest thither beware, for many a sparrow has been brought to +a bad end by a mountain boy.” At length the father came to the youngest +son: “Thou, my dear chirping nestling, wert always the silliest and +weakest; stay with me, the world has many rough, wicked birds which +have crooked beaks and long claws, and lie in wait for poor little +birds and swallow them. Keep with those of thine own kind, and pick up +little spiders and caterpillars from the trees, or the house, and then +thou wilt live long in peace.” “My dear father, he who feeds himself +without injury to other people fares well, and no sparrow-hawk, eagle, +or kite will hurt him if he specially commits himself and his lawful +food, evening and morning, faithfully to God, who is the Creator and +Preserver of all forest and village birds, who likewise heareth the cry +and prayer of the young ravens, for no sparrow or wren ever falls to +the ground except by his will.” “Where hast thou learnt this?” The son +answered, “When the great blast of wind tore me away from thee I came +to a church, and there during the summer I have picked up the flies and +spiders from the windows, and heard this discourse preached. The Father +of all sparrows fed me all the summer through, and kept me from all +mischance and from ferocious birds.” + +“In sooth, my dear son, if thou takest refuge in the churches and +helpest to clear away spiders and buzzing flies, and criest unto God +like the young ravens, and commendest thyself to the eternal Creator, +all will be well with thee, and that even if the whole world were full +of wild malicious birds.” + +“He who to God commits his ways, +In silence suffers, waits, and prays, +Preserves his faith and conscience pure, +He is of God’s protection sure.” + + + +158 The Story of Schlauraffen Land + +In the time of Schlauraffen I went there, and saw Rome and the Lateran +hanging by a small silken thread, and a man without feet who outran a +swift horse, and a keen sharp sword that cut through a bridge. There I +saw a young ass with a silver nose which pursued two fleet hares, and a +lime-tree that was very large, on which hot cakes were growing. There I +saw a lean old goat which carried about a hundred cart-loads of fat on +his body, and sixty loads of salt. Have I not told enough lies? There I +saw a plough ploughing without horse or cow, and a child of one year +threw four millstones from Ratisbon to Treves, and from Treves to +Strasburg, and a hawk swam over the Rhine, which he had a perfect right +to do. There I heard some fishes begin to make such a disturbance with +each other, that it resounded as far as heaven, and sweet honey flowed +like water from a deep valley at the top of a high mountain, and these +were strange things. There were two crows which were mowing a meadow, +and I saw two gnats building a bridge, and two doves tore a wolf to +pieces; two children brought forth two kids, and two frogs threshed +corn together. There I saw two mice consecrating a bishop, and two cats +scratching out a bear’s tongue. Then a snail came running up and killed +two furious lions. There stood a barber and shaved a woman’s beard off; +and two sucking-children bade their mother hold her tongue. There I saw +two greyhounds which brought a mill out of the water; and a sorry old +horse was beside it, and said it was right. And four horses were +standing in the yard threshing corn with all their might, and two goats +were heating the stove, and a red cow shot the bread into the oven. +Then a cock crowed, Cock-a-doodle-doo! The story is all +told,—Cock-a-doodle-doo! + + + +159 The Ditmarsch Tale of Wonders + +I will tell you something. I saw two roasted fowls flying; they flew +quickly and had their breasts turned to heaven and their backs to hell, +and an anvil and a mill-stone swam across the Rhine prettily, slowly, +and gently, and a frog sat on the ice at Whitsuntide and ate a +ploughshare. Three fellows who wanted to catch a hare, went on crutches +and stilts; one of them was deaf, the second blind, the third dumb, and +the fourth could not stir a step. Do you want to know how it was done? +First, the blind man saw the hare running across the field, the dumb +one called to the lame one, and the lame one seized it by the neck. + +There were certain men who wished to sail on dry land, and they set +their sails in the wind, and sailed away over great fields. Then they +sailed over a high mountain, and there they were miserably drowned. A +crab was chasing a hare which was running away at full speed, and high +up on the roof lay a cow which had climbed up there. In that country +the flies are as big as the goats are here. Open the window, that the +lies may fly out. + + + +160 A Riddling Tale + +Three women were changed into flowers which grew in the field, but one +of them was allowed to be in her own home at night. Then once when day +was drawing near, and she was forced to go back to her companions in +the field and become a flower again, she said to her husband, “If thou +wilt come this afternoon and gather me, I shall be set free and +henceforth stay with thee.” And he did so. Now the question is, how did +her husband know her, for the flowers were exactly alike, and without +any difference? Answer: as she was at her home during the night and not +in the field, no dew fell on her as it did on the others, and by this +her husband knew her. + + + +161 Snow-White and Rose-Red + +There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of +the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which +bore white and the other red roses. She had two children who were like +the two rose-trees, and one was called Snow-white, and the other +Rose-red. They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two +children in the world were, only Snow-white was more quiet and gentle +than Rose-red. Rose-red liked better to run about in the meadows and +fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies; but Snow-white sat at +home with her mother, and helped her with her house-work, or read to +her when there was nothing to do. + +The two children were so fond of each another that they always held +each other by the hand when they went out together, and when Snow-white +said, “We will not leave each other,” Rose-red answered, “Never so long +as we live,” and their mother would add, “What one has she must share +with the other.” + +They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries, and no +beasts did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little +hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by +their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still +upon the boughs, and sang whatever they knew. + +No mishap overtook them; if they had stayed too late in the forest, and +night came on, they laid themselves down near one another upon the +moss, and slept until morning came, and their mother knew this and had +no distress on their account. + +Once when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn had roused +them, they saw a beautiful child in a shining white dress sitting near +their bed. He got up and looked quite kindly at them, but said nothing +and went away into the forest. And when they looked round they found +that they had been sleeping quite close to a precipice, and would +certainly have fallen into it in the darkness if they had gone only a +few paces further. And their mother told them that it must have been +the angel who watches over good children. + +Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother’s little cottage so neat that +it was a pleasure to look inside it. In the summer Rose-red took care +of the house, and every morning laid a wreath of flowers by her +mother’s bed before she awoke, in which was a rose from each tree. In +the winter Snow-white lit the fire and hung the kettle on the wrekin. +The kettle was of copper and shone like gold, so brightly was it +polished. In the evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother said, +“Go, Snow-white, and bolt the door,” and then they sat round the +hearth, and the mother took her spectacles and read aloud out of a +large book, and the two girls listened as they sat and span. And close +by them lay a lamb upon the floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a +white dove with its head hidden beneath its wings. + +One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together, some one +knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in. The mother said, +“Quick, Rose-red, open the door, it must be a traveller who is seeking +shelter.” Rose-red went and pushed back the bolt, thinking that it was +a poor man, but it was not; it was a bear that stretched his broad, +black head within the door. + +Rose-red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove +fluttered, and Snow-white hid herself behind her mother’s bed. But the +bear began to speak and said, “Do not be afraid, I will do you no harm! +I am half-frozen, and only want to warm myself a little beside you.” + +“Poor bear,” said the mother, “lie down by the fire, only take care +that you do not burn your coat.” Then she cried, “Snow-white, Rose-red, +come out, the bear will do you no harm, he means well.” So they both +came out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came nearer, and were not +afraid of him. The bear said, “Here, children, knock the snow out of my +coat a little;” so they brought the broom and swept the bear’s hide +clean; and he stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and +comfortably. It was not long before they grew quite at home, and played +tricks with their clumsy guest. They tugged his hair with their hands, +put their feet upon his back and rolled him about, or they took a +hazel-switch and beat him, and when he growled they laughed. But the +bear took it all in good part, only when they were too rough he called +out, “Leave me alive, children, + +“Snowy-white, Rosy-red, +Will you beat your lover dead?” + + +When it was bed-time, and the others went to bed, the mother said to +the bear, “You can lie there by the hearth, and then you will be safe +from the cold and the bad weather.” As soon as day dawned the two +children let him out, and he trotted across the snow into the forest. + +Henceforth the bear came every evening at the same time, laid himself +down by the hearth, and let the children amuse themselves with him as +much as they liked; and they got so used to him that the doors were +never fastened until their black friend had arrived. + +When spring had come and all outside was green, the bear said one +morning to Snow-white, “Now I must go away, and cannot come back for +the whole summer.” “Where are you going, then, dear bear?” asked +Snow-white. “I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the +wicked dwarfs. In the winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are +obliged to stay below and cannot work their way through; but now, when +the sun has thawed and warmed the earth, they break through it, and +come out to pry and steal; and what once gets into their hands, and in +their caves, does not easily see daylight again.” + +Snow-white was quite sorry for his going away, and as she unbolted the +door for him, and the bear was hurrying out, he caught against the bolt +and a piece of his hairy coat was torn off, and it seemed to Snow-white +as if she had seen gold shining through it, but she was not sure about +it. The bear ran away quickly, and was soon out of sight behind the +trees. + +A short time afterwards the mother sent her children into the forest to +get fire-wood. There they found a big tree which lay felled on the +ground, and close by the trunk something was jumping backwards and +forwards in the grass, but they could not make out what it was. When +they came nearer they saw a dwarf with an old withered face and a +snow-white beard a yard long. The end of the beard was caught in a +crevice of the tree, and the little fellow was jumping backwards and +forwards like a dog tied to a rope, and did not know what to do. + +He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried, “Why do you +stand there? Can you not come here and help me?” “What are you about +there, little man?” asked Rose-red. “You stupid, prying goose!” +answered the dwarf; “I was going to split the tree to get a little wood +for cooking. The little bit of food that one of us wants gets burnt up +directly with thick logs; we do not swallow so much as you coarse, +greedy folk. I had just driven the wedge safely in, and everything was +going as I wished; but the wretched wood was too smooth and suddenly +sprang asunder, and the tree closed so quickly that I could not pull +out my beautiful white beard; so now it is tight in and I cannot get +away, and the silly, sleek, milk-faced things laugh! Ugh! how odious +you are!” + +The children tried very hard, but they could not pull the beard out, it +was caught too fast. “I will run and fetch some one,” said Rose-red. +“You senseless goose!” snarled the dwarf; “why should you fetch some +one? You are already two too many for me; can you not think of +something better?” “Don’t be impatient,” said Snow-white, “I will help +you,” and she pulled her scissors out of her pocket, and cut off the +end of the beard. + +As soon as the dwarf felt himself free he laid hold of a bag which lay +amongst the roots of the tree, and which was full of gold, and lifted +it up, grumbling to himself, “Uncouth people, to cut off a piece of my +fine beard. Bad luck to you!” and then he swung the bag upon his back, +and went off without even once looking at the children. + +Some time after that Snow-white and Rose-red went to catch a dish of +fish. As they came near the brook they saw something like a large +grasshopper jumping towards the water, as if it were going to leap in. +They ran to it and found it was the dwarf. “Where are you going?” said +Rose-red; “you surely don’t want to go into the water?” “I am not such +a fool!” cried the dwarf; “don’t you see that the accursed fish wants +to pull me in?” The little man had been sitting there fishing, and +unluckily the wind had twisted his beard with the fishing-line; just +then a big fish bit, and the feeble creature had not strength to pull +it out; the fish kept the upper hand and pulled the dwarf towards him. +He held on to all the reeds and rushes, but it was of little good, he +was forced to follow the movements of the fish, and was in urgent +danger of being dragged into the water. + +The girls came just in time; they held him fast and tried to free his +beard from the line, but all in vain, beard and line were entangled +fast together. Nothing was left but to bring out the scissors and cut +the beard, whereby a small part of it was lost. When the dwarf saw that +he screamed out, “Is that civil, you toad-stool, to disfigure one’s +face? Was it not enough to clip off the end of my beard? Now you have +cut off the best part of it. I cannot let myself be seen by my people. +I wish you had been made to run the soles off your shoes!” Then he took +out a sack of pearls which lay in the rushes, and without saying a word +more he dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone. + +It happened that soon afterwards the mother sent the two children to +the town to buy needles and thread, and laces and ribbons. The road led +them across a heath upon which huge pieces of rock lay strewn here and +there. Now they noticed a large bird hovering in the air, flying slowly +round and round above them; it sank lower and lower, and at last +settled near a rock not far off. Directly afterwards they heard a loud, +piteous cry. They ran up and saw with horror that the eagle had seized +their old acquaintance the dwarf, and was going to carry him off. + +The children, full of pity, at once took tight hold of the little man, +and pulled against the eagle so long that at last he let his booty go. +As soon as the dwarf had recovered from his first fright he cried with +his shrill voice, “Could you not have done it more carefully! You +dragged at my brown coat so that it is all torn and full of holes, you +helpless clumsy creatures!” Then he took up a sack full of precious +stones, and slipped away again under the rock into his hole. The girls, +who by this time were used to his thanklessness, went on their way and +did their business in the town. + +As they crossed the heath again on their way home they surprised the +dwarf, who had emptied out his bag of precious stones in a clean spot, +and had not thought that anyone would come there so late. The evening +sun shone upon the brilliant stones; they glittered and sparkled with +all colors so beautifully that the children stood still and looked at +them. “Why do you stand gaping there?” cried the dwarf, and his +ashen-gray face became copper-red with rage. He was going on with his +bad words when a loud growling was heard, and a black bear came +trotting towards them out of the forest. The dwarf sprang up in a +fright, but he could not get to his cave, for the bear was already +close. Then in the dread of his heart he cried, “Dear Mr. Bear, spare +me, I will give you all my treasures; look, the beautiful jewels lying +there! Grant me my life; what do you want with such a slender little +fellow as I? you would not feel me between your teeth. Come, take these +two wicked girls, they are tender morsels for you, fat as young quails; +for mercy’s sake eat them!” The bear took no heed of his words, but +gave the wicked creature a single blow with his paw, and he did not +move again. + +The girls had run away, but the bear called to them, “Snow-white and +Rose-red, do not be afraid; wait, I will come with you.” Then they knew +his voice and waited, and when he came up to them suddenly his bearskin +fell off, and he stood there, a handsome man, clothed all in gold. “I +am a King’s son,” he said, “and I was bewitched by that wicked dwarf, +who had stolen my treasures; I have had to run about the forest as a +savage bear until I was freed by his death. Now he has got his +well-deserved punishment.” + +Snow-white was married to him, and Rose-red to his brother, and they +divided between them the great treasure which the dwarf had gathered +together in his cave. The old mother lived peacefully and happily with +her children for many years. She took the two rose-trees with her, and +they stood before her window, and every year bore the most beautiful +roses, white and red. + + + +162 The Wise Servant + +How fortunate is the master, and how well all goes in his house, when +he has a wise servant who listens to his orders and does not obey them, +but prefers following his own wisdom. A clever John of this kind was +once sent out by his master to seek a lost cow. He stayed away a long +time, and the master thought, “Faithful John does not spare any pains +over his work!” As, however, he did not come back at all, the master +was afraid lest some misfortune had befallen him, and set out himself +to look for him. He had to search a long time, but at last he perceived +the boy who was running up and down a large field. “Now, dear John,” +said the master when he had got up to him, “hast thou found the cow +which I sent thee to seek?” “No, master,” he answered, “I have not +found the cow, but then I have not looked for it.” “Then what hast thou +looked for, John?” “Something better, and that luckily I have found.” +“What is that, John?” “Three blackbirds,” answered the boy. “And where +are they?” asked the master. “I see one of them, I hear the other, and +I am running after the third,” answered the wise boy. + +Take example by this, do not trouble yourselves about your masters or +their orders, but rather do what comes into your head and pleases you, +and then you will act just as wisely as prudent John. + + + +163 The Glass Coffin + +Let no one ever say that a poor tailor cannot do great things and win +high honors; all that is needed is that he should go to the right +smithy, and what is of most consequence, that he should have good luck. +A civil, adroit tailor’s apprentice once went out travelling, and came +into a great forest, and, as he did not know the way, he lost himself. +Night fell, and nothing was left for him to do, but to seek a bed in +this painful solitude. He might certainly have found a good bed on the +soft moss, but the fear of wild beasts let him have no rest there, and +at last he was forced to make up his mind to spend the night in a tree. +He sought out a high oak, climbed up to the top of it, and thanked God +that he had his goose with him, for otherwise the wind which blew over +the top of the tree would have carried him away. + +After he had spent some hours in the darkness, not without fear and +trembling, he saw at a very short distance the glimmer of a light, and +as he thought that a human habitation might be there, where he would be +better off than on the branches of a tree, he got carefully down and +went towards the light. It guided him to a small hut that was woven +together of reeds and rushes. He knocked boldly, the door opened, and +by the light which came forth he saw a little hoary old man who wore a +coat made of bits of colored stuff sewn together. “Who are you, and +what do you want?” asked the man in a grumbling voice. “I am a poor +tailor,” he answered, “whom night has surprised here in the wilderness, +and I earnestly beg you to take me into your hut until morning.” “Go +your way,” replied the old man in a surly voice, “I will have nothing +to do with runagates; seek for yourself a shelter elsewhere.” After +these words he was about to slip into his hut again, but the tailor +held him so tightly by the corner of his coat, and pleaded so +piteously, that the old man, who was not so ill-natured as he wished to +appear, was at last softened, and took him into the hut with him where +he gave him something to eat, and then pointed out to him a very good +bed in a corner. + +The weary tailor needed no rocking; but slept sweetly till morning, but +even then would not have thought of getting up, if he had not been +aroused by a great noise. A violent sound of screaming and roaring +forced its way through the thin walls of the hut. The tailor, full of +unwonted courage, jumped up, put his clothes on in haste, and hurried +out. Then close by the hut, he saw a great black bull and a beautiful +stag, which were just preparing for a violent struggle. They rushed at +each other with such extreme rage that the ground shook with their +trampling, and the air resounded with their cries. For a long time it +was uncertain which of the two would gain the victory; at length the +stag thrust his horns into his adversary’s body, whereupon the bull +fell to the earth with a terrific roar, and was thoroughly despatched +by a few strokes from the stag. + +The tailor, who had watched the fight with astonishment, was still +standing there motionless, when the stag in full career bounded up to +him, and before he could escape, caught him up on his great horns. He +had not much time to collect his thoughts, for it went in a swift race +over stock and stone, mountain and valley, wood and meadow. He held +with both hands to the tops of the horns, and resigned himself to his +fate. It seemed, however, to him just as if he were flying away. At +length the stag stopped in front of a wall of rock, and gently let the +tailor down. The tailor, more dead than alive, required a longer time +than that to come to himself. When he had in some degree recovered, the +stag, which had remained standing by him, pushed its horns with such +force against a door which was in the rock, that it sprang open. Flames +of fire shot forth, after which followed a great smoke, which hid the +stag from his sight. The tailor did not know what to do, or whither to +turn, in order to get out of this desert and back to human beings +again. Whilst he was standing thus undecided, a voice sounded out of +the rock, which cried to him, “Enter without fear, no evil shall befall +you thee.” He hesitated, but driven by a mysterious force, he obeyed +the voice and went through the iron-door into a large spacious hall, +whose ceiling, walls and floor were made of shining polished square +stones, on each of which were cut letters which were unknown to him. He +looked at everything full of admiration, and was on the point of going +out again, when he once more heard the voice which said to him, “Step +on the stone which lies in the middle of the hall, and great good +fortune awaits thee.” + +His courage had already grown so great that he obeyed the order. The +stone began to give way under his feet, and sank slowly down into the +depths. When it was once more firm, and the tailor looked round, he +found himself in a hall which in size resembled the former. Here, +however, there was more to look at and to admire. Hollow places were +cut in the walls, in which stood vases of transparent glass which were +filled with colored spirit or with a bluish vapour. On the floor of the +hall two great glass chests stood opposite to each other, which at once +excited his curiosity. When he went to one of them he saw inside it a +handsome structure like a castle surrounded by farm-buildings, stables +and barns, and a quantity of other good things. Everything was small, +but exceedingly carefully and delicately made, and seemed to be cut out +by a dexterous hand with the greatest exactitude. + +He might not have turned away his eyes from the consideration of this +rarity for some time, if the voice had not once more made itself heard. +It ordered him to turn round and look at the glass chest which was +standing opposite. How his admiration increased when he saw therein a +maiden of the greatest beauty! She lay as if asleep, and was wrapped in +her long fair hair as in a precious mantle. Her eyes were closely shut, +but the brightness of her complexion and a ribbon which her breathing +moved to and fro, left no doubt that she was alive. The tailor was +looking at the beauty with beating heart, when she suddenly opened her +eyes, and started up at the sight of him in joyful terror. “Just +Heaven!” cried she, “my deliverance is at hand! Quick, quick, help me +out of my prison; if thou pushest back the bolt of this glass coffin, +then I shall be free.” The tailor obeyed without delay, and she +immediately raised up the glass lid, came out and hastened into the +corner of the hall, where she covered herself with a large cloak. Then +she seated herself on a stone, ordered the young man to come to her, +and after she had imprinted a friendly kiss on his lips, she said, “My +long-desired deliverer, kind Heaven has guided thee to me, and put an +end to my sorrows. On the self-same day when they end, shall thy +happiness begin. Thou art the husband chosen for me by Heaven, and +shalt pass thy life in unbroken joy, loved by me, and rich to +overflowing in every earthly possession. Seat thyself, and listen to +the story of my life: + +“I am the daughter of a rich count. My parents died when I was still in +my tender youth, and recommended me in their last will to my elder +brother, by whom I was brought up. We loved each other so tenderly, and +were so alike in our way of thinking and our inclinations, that we both +embraced the resolution never to marry, but to stay together to the end +of our lives. In our house there was no lack of company; neighbors and +friends visited us often, and we showed the greatest hospitality to +every one. So it came to pass one evening that a stranger came riding +to our castle, and, under pretext of not being able to get on to the +next place, begged for shelter for the night. We granted his request +with ready courtesy, and he entertained us in the most agreeable manner +during supper by conversation intermingled with stories. My brother +liked the stranger so much that he begged him to spend a couple of days +with us, to which, after some hesitation, he consented. We did not rise +from table until late in the night, the stranger was shown to room, and +I hastened, as I was tired, to lay my limbs in my soft bed. Hardly had +I slept for a short time, when the sound of faint and delightful music +awoke me. As I could not conceive from whence it came, I wanted to +summon my waiting-maid who slept in the next room, but to my +astonishment I found that speech was taken away from me by an unknown +force. I felt as if a mountain were weighing down my breast, and was +unable to make the very slightest sound. In the meantime, by the light +of my night-lamp, I saw the stranger enter my room through two doors +which were fast bolted. He came to me and said, that by magic arts +which were at his command, he had caused the lovely music to sound in +order to awaken me, and that he now forced his way through all +fastenings with the intention of offering me his hand and heart. My +repugnance to his magic arts was, however, so great, that I vouchsafed +him no answer. He remained for a time standing without moving, +apparently with the idea of waiting for a favorable decision, but as I +continued to keep silence, he angrily declared he would revenge himself +and find means to punish my pride, and left the room. I passed the +night in the greatest disquietude, and only fell asleep towards +morning. When I awoke, I hurried to my brother, but did not find him in +his room, and the attendants told me that he had ridden forth with the +stranger to the chase by daybreak. + +“I at once suspected nothing good. I dressed myself quickly, ordered my +palfrey to be saddled, and accompanied only by one servant, rode full +gallop to the forest. The servant fell with his horse, and could not +follow me, for the horse had broken its foot. I pursued my way without +halting, and in a few minutes I saw the stranger coming towards me with +a beautiful stag which he led by a cord. I asked him where he had left +my brother, and how he had come by this stag, out of whose great eyes I +saw tears flowing. Instead of answering me, he began to laugh loudly. I +fell into a great rage at this, pulled out a pistol and discharged it +at the monster; but the ball rebounded from his breast and went into my +horse’s head. I fell to the ground, and the stranger muttered some +words which deprived me of consciousness. + +“When I came to my senses again I found myself in this underground cave +in a glass coffin. The magician appeared once again, and said he had +changed my brother into a stag, my castle with all that belonged to it, +diminished in size by his arts, he had shut up in the other glass +chest, and my people, who were all turned into smoke, he had confined +in glass bottles. He told me that if I would now comply with his wish, +it was an easy thing for him to put everything back in its former +state, as he had nothing to do but open the vessels, and everything +would return once more to its natural form. I answered him as little as +I had done the first time. He vanished and left me in my prison, in +which a deep sleep came on me. Amongst the visions which passed before +my eyes, that was the most comforting in which a young man came and set +me free, and when I opened my eyes to-day I saw thee, and beheld my +dream fulfilled. Help me to accomplish the other things which happened +in those visions. The first is that we lift the glass chest in which my +castle is enclosed, on to that broad stone.” + +As soon as the stone was laden, it began to rise up on high with the +maiden and the young man, and mounted through the opening of the +ceiling into the upper hall, from whence they then could easily reach +the open air. Here the maiden opened the lid, and it was marvellous to +behold how the castle, the houses, and the farm buildings which were +enclosed, stretched themselves out and grew to their natural size with +the greatest rapidity. After this, the maiden and the tailor returned +to the cave beneath the earth, and had the vessels which were filled +with smoke carried up by the stone. The maiden had scarcely opened the +bottles when the blue smoke rushed out and changed itself into living +men, in whom she recognized her servants and her people. Her joy was +still more increased when her brother, who had killed the magician in +the form of the bull, came out of the forest towards them in his human +form, and on the self-same day the maiden, in accordance with her +promise, gave her hand at the altar to the lucky tailor. + + + +164 Lazy Harry + +Harry was lazy, and although he had nothing else to do but drive his +goat daily to pasture, he nevertheless groaned when he went home after +his day’s work was done. “It is indeed a heavy burden,” said he, “and a +wearisome employment to drive a goat into the field this way year after +year, till late into the autumn! If one could but lie down and sleep, +but no, one must have one’s eyes open lest it hurts the young trees, or +squeezes itself through the hedge into a garden, or runs away +altogether. How can one have any rest, or peace of one’s life?” He +seated himself, collected his thoughts, and considered how he could set +his shoulders free from this burden. For a long time all thinking was +to no purpose, but suddenly it was as if scales fell from his eyes. “I +know what I will do,” he cried, “I will marry fat Trina who has also a +goat, and can take mine out with hers, and then I shall have no more +need to trouble myself.” + +So Harry got up, set his weary legs in motion, and went right across +the street, for it was no farther, to where the parents of fat Trina +lived, and asked for their industrious and virtuous daughter in +marriage. The parents did not reflect long. “Birds of a feather, flock +together,” they thought, and consented. + +So fat Trina became Harry’s wife, and led out both the goats. Harry had +a good time of it, and had no work that he required to rest from but +his own idleness. He only went out with her now and then, and said, “I +merely do it that I may afterwards enjoy rest more, otherwise one loses +all feeling for it.” + +But fat Trina was no less idle. “Dear Harry,” said she one day, “why +should we make our lives so toilsome when there is no need for it, and +thus ruin the best days of our youth? Would it not be better for us to +give the two goats which disturb us every morning in our sweetest sleep +with their bleating, to our neighbor, and he will give us a beehive for +them. We will put the beehive in a sunny place behind the house, and +trouble ourselves no more about it. Bees do not require to be taken +care of, or driven into the field; they fly out and find the way home +again for themselves, and collect honey without giving the very least +trouble.” “Thou hast spoken like a sensible woman,” replied Harry. “We +will carry out thy proposal without delay, and besides all that, honey +tastes better and nourishes one better than goat’s milk, and it can be +kept longer too.” + +The neighbor willingly gave a beehive for the two goats. The bees flew +in and out from early morning till late evening without ever tiring, +and filled the hive with the most beautiful honey, so that in autumn +Harry was able to take a whole pitcherful out of it. + +They placed the jug on a board which was fixed to the wall of their +bed-room, and as they were afraid that it might be stolen from them, or +that the mice might find it, Trina brought in a stout hazel-stick and +put it beside her bed, so that without unnecessary getting up she might +reach it with her hand, and drive away the uninvited guests. Lazy Harry +did not like to leave his bed before noon. “He who rises early,” said +he, “wastes his substance.” + +One morning when he was still lying amongst the feathers in broad +daylight, resting after his long sleep, he said to his wife, “Women are +fond of sweet things, and thou art always tasting the honey in private; +it will be better for us to exchange it for a goose with a young +gosling, before thou eatest up the whole of it.” “But,” answered Trina, +“not before we have a child to take care of them! Am I to worry myself +with the little geese, and spend all my strength on them to no +purpose.” “Dost thou think,” said Harry, “that the youngster will look +after geese? Now-a-days children no longer obey, they do according to +their own fancy, because they consider themselves cleverer than their +parents, just like that lad who was sent to seek the cow and chased +three blackbirds.” “Oh,” replied Trina, “this one shall fare badly if +he does not do what I say! I will take a stick and belabour his skin +for him with more blows than I can count. Look, Harry,” cried she in +her zeal, and seized the stick which she had to drive the mice away +with, “Look, this is the way I will fall on him!” She reached her arm +out to strike, but unhappily hit the honey-pitcher above the bed. The +pitcher struck against the wall and fell down in fragments, and the +fine honey streamed down on the ground. “There lie the goose and the +young gosling,” said Harry, “and want no looking after. But it is lucky +that the pitcher did not fall on my head. We have all reason to be +satisfied with our lot.” And then as he saw that there was still some +honey in one of the fragments he stretched out his hand for it, and +said quite gaily, “The remains, my wife, we will still eat with a +relish, and we will rest a little after the fright we have had. What +matters if we do get up a little later the day is always long enough.” +“Yes,” answered Trina, “we shall always get to the end of it at the +proper time. Dost thou know that the snail was once asked to a wedding +and set out to go, but arrived at the christening. In front of the +house it fell over the fence, and said, ‘Speed does no good.’” + + + +165 The Griffin + +There was once upon a time a King, but where he reigned and what he was +called, I do not know. He had no son, but an only daughter who had +always been ill, and no doctor had been able to cure her. Then it was +foretold to the King that his daughter should eat herself well with an +apple. So he ordered it to be proclaimed throughout the whole of his +kingdom, that whosoever brought his daughter an apple with which she +could eat herself well, should have her to wife, and be King. This +became known to a peasant who had three sons, and he said to the +eldest, “Go out into the garden and take a basketful of those beautiful +apples with the red cheeks and carry them to the court; perhaps the +King’s daughter will be able to eat herself well with them, and then +thou wilt marry her and be King.” The lad did so, and set out. + +When he had gone a short way he met a little iron man who asked him +what he had there in the basket, to which replied Uele, for so was he +named, “Frogs’ legs.” On this the little man said, “Well, so shall it +be, and remain,” and went away. At length Uele arrived at the palace, +and made it known that he had brought apples which would cure the +King’s daughter if she ate them. This delighted the King hugely, and he +caused Uele to be brought before him; but, alas! when he opened the +basket, instead of having apples in it he had frogs’ legs which were +still kicking about. On this the King grew angry, and had him driven +out of the house. When he got home he told his father how it had fared +with him. Then the father sent the next son, who was called Seame, but +all went with him just as it had gone with Uele. He also met the little +iron man, who asked what he had there in the basket. Seame said, “Hogs’ +bristles,” and the iron man said, “well, so shall it be, and remain.” +When Seame got to the King’s palace and said he brought apples with +which the King’s daughter might eat herself well, they did not want to +let him go in, and said that one fellow had already been there, and had +treated them as if they were fools. Seame, however, maintained that he +certainly had the apples, and that they ought to let him go in. At +length they believed him, and led him to the King. But when he +uncovered the basket, he had but hogs’ bristles. This enraged the King +most terribly, so he caused Seame to be whipped out of the house. When +he got home he related all that had befallen him, then the youngest +boy, whose name was Hans, but who was always called Stupid Hans, came +and asked his father if he might go with some apples. “Oh!” said the +father, “thou wouldst be just the right fellow for such a thing! If the +clever ones can’t manage it, what canst thou do?” The boy, however, did +not believe him, and said, “Indeed, father, I wish to go.” “Just get +away, thou stupid fellow, thou must wait till thou art wiser,” said the +father to that, and turned his back. Hans, however, pulled at the back +of his smock-frock and said, “Indeed, father, I wish to go.” “Well, +then, so far as I am concerned thou mayst go, but thou wilt soon come +home again!” replied the old man in a spiteful voice. The boy, however, +was tremendously delighted and jumped for joy. “Well, act like a fool! +thou growest more stupid every day!” said the father again. Hans, +however, did not care about that, and did not let it spoil his +pleasure, but as it was then night, he thought he might as well wait +until the morrow, for he could not get to court that day. All night +long he could not sleep in his bed, and if he did doze for a moment, he +dreamt of beautiful maidens, of palaces, of gold, and of silver, and +all kinds of things of that sort. Early in the morning, he went forth +on his way, and directly afterwards the little shabby-looking man in +his iron clothes, came to him and asked what he was carrying in the +basket. Hans gave him the answer that he was carrying apples with which +the King’s daughter was to eat herself well. “Then,” said the little +man, “so shall they be, and remain.” But at the court they would none +of them let Hans go in, for they said two had already been there who +had told them that they were bringing apples, and one of them had +frogs’ legs, and the other hogs’ bristles. Hans, however, resolutely +maintained that he most certainly had no frogs’ legs, but some of the +most beautiful apples in the whole kingdom. As he spoke so pleasantly, +the door-keeper thought he could not be telling a lie, and asked him to +go in, and he was right, for when Hans uncovered his basket in the +King’s presence, golden-yellow apples came tumbling out. The King was +delighted, and caused some of them to be taken to his daughter, and +then waited in anxious expectation until news should be brought to him +of the effect they had. But before much time had passed by, news was +brought to him: but who do you think it was who came? it was his +daughter herself! As soon as she had eaten of those apples, she was +cured, and sprang out of her bed. The joy the King felt cannot be +described! but now he did not want to give his daughter in marriage to +Hans, and said he must first make him a boat which would go quicker on +dry land than on water. Hans agreed to the conditions, and went home, +and related how it had fared with him. Then the father sent Uele into +the forest to make a boat of that kind. He worked diligently, and +whistled all the time. At mid-day, when the sun was at the highest, +came the little iron man and asked what he was making? Uele gave him +for answer, “Wooden bowls for the kitchen.” The iron man said, “So it +shall be, and remain.” By evening Uele thought he had now made the +boat, but when he wanted to get into it, he had nothing but wooden +bowls. The next day Seame went into the forest, but everything went +with him just as it had done with Uele. On the third day Stupid Hans +went. He worked away most industriously, so that the whole forest +resounded with the heavy strokes, and all the while he sang and +whistled right merrily. At mid-day, when it was the hottest, the little +man came again, and asked what he was making? “A boat which will go +quicker on dry land than on the water,” replied Hans, “and when I have +finished it, I am to have the King’s daughter for my wife.” “Well,” +said the little man, “such an one shall it be, and remain.” In the +evening, when the sun had turned into gold, Hans finished his boat, and +all that was wanted for it. He got into it and rowed to the palace. The +boat went as swiftly as the wind. The King saw it from afar, but would +not give his daughter to Hans yet, and said he must first take a +hundred hares out to pasture from early morning until late evening, and +if one of them got away, he should not have his daughter. Hans was +contented with this, and the next day went with his flock to the +pasture, and took great care that none of them ran away. + +Before many hours had passed came a servant from the palace, and told +Hans that he must give her a hare instantly, for some visitors had come +unexpectedly. Hans, however, was very well aware what that meant, and +said he would not give her one; the King might set some hare soup +before his guest next day. The maid, however, would not believe in his +refusal, and at last she began to get angry with him. Then Hans said +that if the King’s daughter came herself, he would give her a hare. The +maid told this in the palace, and the daughter did go herself. In the +meantime, however, the little man came again to Hans, and asked him +what he was doing there? He said he had to watch over a hundred hares +and see that none of them ran away, and then he might marry the King’s +daughter and be King. “Good,” said the little man, “there is a whistle +for thee, and if one of them runs away, just whistle with it, and then +it will come back again.” When the King’s daughter came, Hans gave her +a hare into her apron; but when she had gone about a hundred steps with +it, he whistled, and the hare jumped out of the apron, and before she +could turn round was back to the flock again. When the evening came the +hare-herd whistled once more, and looked to see if all were there, and +then drove them to the palace. The King wondered how Hans had been able +to take a hundred hares to graze without losing any of them; he would, +however, not give him his daughter yet, and said he must now bring him +a feather from the Griffin’s tail. Hans set out at once, and walked +straight forwards. In the evening he came to a castle, and there he +asked for a night’s lodging, for at that time there were no inns. The +lord of the castle promised him that with much pleasure, and asked +where he was going? Hans answered, “To the Griffin.” “Oh! to the +Griffin! They tell me he knows everything, and I have lost the key of +an iron money-chest; so you might be so good as to ask him where it +is.” “Yes, indeed,” said Hans, “I will do that.” Early the next morning +he went onwards, and on his way arrived at another castle in which he +again stayed the night. When the people who lived there learnt that he +was going to the Griffin, they said they had in the house a daughter +who was ill, and that they had already tried every means to cure her, +but none of them had done her any good, and he might be so kind as to +ask the Griffin what would make their daughter healthy again? Hans said +he would willingly do that, and went onwards. Then he came to a lake, +and instead of a ferry-boat, a tall, tall man was there who had to +carry everybody across. The man asked Hans whither he was journeying? +“To the Griffin,” said Hans. “Then when you get to him,” said the man, +“just ask him why I am forced to carry everybody over the lake.” “Yes, +indeed, most certainly I’ll do that,” said Hans. Then the man took him +up on his shoulders, and carried him across. At length Hans arrived at +the Griffin’s house, but the wife only was at home, and not the Griffin +himself. Then the woman asked him what he wanted? Thereupon he told her +everything;—that he had to get a feather out of the Griffin’s tail, and +that there was a castle where they had lost the key of their +money-chest, and he was to ask the Griffin where it was?—that in +another castle the daughter was ill, and he was to learn what would +cure her?—and then not far from thence there was a lake and a man +beside it, who was forced to carry people across it, and he was very +anxious to learn why the man was obliged to do it. Then said the woman, +“But look here, my good friend, no Christian can speak to the Griffin; +he devours them all; but if you like, you can lie down under his bed, +and in the night, when he is quite fast asleep, you can reach out and +pull a feather out of his tail, and as for those things which you are +to learn, I will ask about them myself.” Hans was quite satisfied with +this, and got under the bed. In the evening, the Griffin came home, and +as soon as he entered the room, said, “Wife, I smell a Christian.” +“Yes,” said the woman, “one was here to-day, but he went away again;” +and on that the Griffin said no more. + +In the middle of the night when the Griffin was snoring loudly, Hans +reached out and plucked a feather from his tail. The Griffin woke up +instantly, and said, “Wife, I smell a Christian, and it seems to me +that somebody was pulling at my tail.” His wife said, “Thou hast +certainly been dreaming, and I told thee before that a Christian was +here to-day, but that he went away again. He told me all kinds of +things that in one castle they had lost the key of their money-chest, +and could find it nowhere.” “Oh! the fools!” said the Griffin; “the key +lies in the wood-house under a log of wood behind the door.” “And then +he said that in another castle the daughter was ill, and they knew no +remedy that would cure her.” “Oh! the fools!” said the Griffin; “under +the cellar-steps a toad has made its nest of her hair, and if she got +her hair back she would be well.” “And then he also said that there was +a place where there was a lake and a man beside it who was forced to +carry everybody across.” “Oh, the fool!” said the Griffin; “if he only +put one man down in the middle, he would never have to carry another +across.” Early the next morning the Griffin got up and went out. Then +Hans came forth from under the bed, and he had a beautiful feather, and +had heard what the Griffin had said about the key, and the daughter, +and the ferry-man. The Griffin’s wife repeated it all once more to him +that he might not forget it, and then he went home again. First he came +to the man by the lake, who asked him what the Griffin had said, but +Hans replied that he must first carry him across, and then he would +tell him. So the man carried him across, and when he was over Hans told +him that all he had to do was to set one person down in the middle of +the lake, and then he would never have to carry over any more. The man +was hugely delighted, and told Hans that out of gratitude he would take +him once more across, and back again. But Hans said no, he would save +him the trouble, he was quite satisfied already, and pursued his way. +Then he came to the castle where the daughter was ill; he took her on +his shoulders, for she could not walk, and carried her down the +cellar-steps and pulled out the toad’s nest from beneath the lowest +step and gave it into her hand, and she sprang off his shoulder and up +the steps before him, and was quite cured. Then were the father and +mother beyond measure rejoiced, and they gave Hans gifts of gold and of +silver, and whatsoever else he wished for, that they gave him. And when +he got to the other castle he went at once into the wood-house, and +found the key under the log of wood behind the door, and took it to the +lord of the castle. He also was not a little pleased, and gave Hans as +a reward much of the gold that was in the chest, and all kinds of +things besides, such as cows, and sheep, and goats. When Hans arrived +before the King, with all these things—with the money, and the gold, +and the silver and the cows, sheep and goats, the King asked him how he +had come by them. Then Hans told him that the Griffin gave every one +whatsoever he wanted. So the King thought he himself could make such +things useful, and set out on his way to the Griffin; but when he got +to the lake, it happened that he was the very first who arrived there +after Hans, and the man put him down in the middle of it and went away, +and the King was drowned. Hans, however, married the daughter, and +became King. + + + +166 Strong Hans + +There were once a man and a woman who had an only child, and lived +quite alone in a solitary valley. It came to pass that the mother once +went into the wood to gather branches of fir, and took with her little +Hans, who was just two years old. As it was spring-time, and the child +took pleasure in the many-coloured flowers, she went still further +onwards with him into the forest. Suddenly two robbers sprang out of +the thicket, seized the mother and child, and carried them far away +into the black forest, where no one ever came from one year’s end to +another. The poor woman urgently begged the robbers to set her and her +child free, but their hearts were made of stone, they would not listen +to her prayers and entreaties, and drove her on farther by force. After +they had worked their way through bushes and briars for about two +miles, they came to a rock where there was a door, at which the robbers +knocked and it opened at once. They had to go through a long dark +passage, and at last came into a great cavern, which was lighted by a +fire which burnt on the hearth. On the wall hung swords, sabres, and +other deadly weapons which gleamed in the light, and in the midst stood +a black table at which four other robbers were sitting gambling, and +the captain sat at the head of it. As soon as he saw the woman he came +and spoke to her, and told her to be at ease and have no fear, they +would do nothing to hurt her, but she must look after the +house-keeping, and if she kept everything in order, she should not fare +ill with them. Thereupon they gave her something to eat, and showed her +a bed where she might sleep with her child. + +The woman stayed many years with the robbers, and Hans grew tall and +strong. His mother told him stories, and taught him to read an old book +of tales about knights which she found in the cave. When Hans was nine +years old, he made himself a strong club out of a branch of fir, hid it +behind the bed, and then went to his mother and said, “Dear mother, +pray tell me who is my father; I must and will know.” His mother was +silent and would not tell him, that he might not become home-sick; +moreover she knew that the godless robbers would not let him go away, +but it almost broke her heart that Hans should not go to his father. In +the night, when the robbers came home from their robbing expedition, +Hans brought out his club, stood before the captain, and said, “I now +wish to know who is my father, and if thou dost not at once tell me I +will strike thee down.” Then the captain laughed, and gave Hans such a +box on the ear that he rolled under the table. Hans got up again, held +his tongue, and thought, “I will wait another year and then try again, +perhaps I shall do better then.” When the year was over, he brought out +his club again, rubbed the dust off it, looked at it well, and said, +“It is a stout strong club.” At night the robbers came home, drank one +jug of wine after another, and their heads began to be heavy. Then Hans +brought out his club, placed himself before the captain, and asked him +who was his father? But the captain again gave him such a vigorous box +on the ear that Hans rolled under the table, but it was not long before +he was up again, and beat the captain and the robbers so with his club, +that they could no longer move either their arms or their legs. His +mother stood in a corner full of admiration of his bravery and +strength. When Hans had done his work, he went to his mother, and said, +“Now I have shown myself to be in earnest, but now I must also know who +is my father.” “Dear Hans,” answered the mother, “come, we will go and +seek him until we find him.” She took from the captain the key to the +entrance-door, and Hans fetched a great meal-sack and packed into it +gold and silver, and whatsoever else he could find that was beautiful, +until it was full, and then he took it on his back. They left the cave, +but how Hans did open his eyes when he came out of the darkness into +daylight, and saw the green forest, and the flowers, and the birds, and +the morning sun in the sky. He stood there and wondered at everything +just as if he had not been very wise. His mother looked for the way +home, and when they had walked for a couple of hours, they got safely +into their lonely valley and to their little house. The father was +sitting in the doorway. He wept for joy when he recognized his wife and +heard that Hans was his son, for he had long regarded them both as +dead. But Hans, although he was not twelve years old, was a head taller +than his father. They went into the little room together, but Hans had +scarcely put his sack on the bench by the stove, than the whole house +began to crack the bench broke down and then the floor, and the heavy +sack fell through into the cellar. “God save us!” cried the father, +“what’s that? Now thou hast broken our little house to pieces!” “Don’t +grow any grey hairs about that, dear father,” answered Hans; “there, in +that sack, is more than is wanting for a new house.” The father and +Hans at once began to build a new house; to buy cattle and land, and to +keep a farm. Hans ploughed the fields, and when he followed the plough +and pushed it into the ground, the bullocks had scarcely any need to +draw. The next spring, Hans said, “Keep all the money and get a +walking-stick that weighs a hundred-weight made for me that I may go +a-travelling.” When the wished-for stick was ready, he left his +father’s house, went forth, and came to a deep, dark forest. There he +heard something crunching and cracking, looked round, and saw a +fir-tree which was wound round like a rope from the bottom to the top, +and when he looked upwards he saw a great fellow who had laid hold of +the tree and was twisting it like a willow-wand. “Hollo!” cried Hans, +“what art thou doing up there?” the fellow replied, “I got some faggots +together yesterday and am twisting a rope for them.” “That is what I +like,” thought Hans, “he has some strength,” and he called to him, +“Leave that alone, and come with me.” The fellow came down, and he was +taller by a whole head than Hans, and Hans was not little. “Thy name is +now Fir-twister,” said Hans to him. Thereupon they went further and +heard something knocking and hammering with such force that the ground +shook at every stroke. Shortly afterwards they came to a mighty rock, +before which a giant was standing and striking great pieces of it away +with his fist. When Hans asked what he was about, he answered, “At +night, when I want to sleep, bears, wolves, and other vermin of that +kind come, which sniff and snuffle about me and won’t let me rest; so I +want to build myself a house and lay myself inside it, so that I may +have some peace.” “Oh, indeed,” thought Hans, “I can make use of this +one also;” and said to him, “Leave thy house-building alone, and go +with me; thou shalt be called Rock-splitter.” The man consented, and +they all three roamed through the forest, and wherever they went the +wild beasts were terrified, and ran away from them. In the evening they +came to an old deserted castle, went up into it, and laid themselves +down in the hall to sleep. The next morning Hans went into the garden. +It had run quite wild, and was full of thorns and bushes. And as he was +thus walking round about, a wild boar rushed at him; he, however, gave +it such a blow with his club that it fell directly. He took it on his +shoulders and carried it in, and they put it on a spit, roasted it, and +enjoyed themselves. Then they arranged that each day, in turn, two +should go out hunting, and one should stay at home, and cook nine +pounds of meat for each of them. Fir-twister stayed at home the first, +and Hans and Rock-splitter went out hunting. When Fir-twister was busy +cooking, a little shrivelled-up old mannikin came to him in the castle, +and asked for some meat. “Be off, sly hypocrite,” he answered, “thou +needest no meat.” But how astonished Fir-twister was when the little +insignificant dwarf sprang up at him, and belaboured him so with his +fists that he could not defend himself, but fell on the ground and +gasped for breath! The dwarf did not go away until he had thoroughly +vented his anger on him. When the two others came home from hunting, +Fir-twister said nothing to them of the old mannikin and of the blows +which he himself had received, and thought, “When they stay at home, +they may just try their chance with the little scrubbing-brush;” and +the mere thought of that gave him pleasure already. + +The next day Rock-splitter stayed at home, and he fared just as +Fir-twister had done, he was very ill-treated by the dwarf because he +was not willing to give him any meat. When the others came home in the +evening, Fir-twister easily saw what he had suffered, but both kept +silence, and thought, “Hans also must taste some of that soup.” + +Hans, who had to stay at home the next day, did his work in the kitchen +as it had to be done, and as he was standing skimming the pan, the +dwarf came and without more ado demanded a bit of meat. Then Hans +thought, “He is a poor wretch, I will give him some of my share, that +the others may not run short,” and handed him a bit. When the dwarf had +devoured it, he again asked for some meat, and good-natured Hans gave +it to him, and told him it was a handsome piece, and that he was to be +content with it. But the dwarf begged again for the third time. “Thou +art shameless!” said Hans, and gave him none. Then the malicious dwarf +wanted to spring on him and treat him as he had treated Fir-twister and +Rock-splitter, but he had got to the wrong man. Hans, without exerting +himself much, gave him a couple of blows which made him jump down the +castle steps. Hans was about to run after him, but fell right over him, +for he was so tall. When he rose up again, the dwarf had got the start +of him. Hans hurried after him as far as the forest, and saw him slip +into a hole in the rock. Hans now went home, but he had marked the +spot. When the two others came back, they were surprised that Hans was +so well. He told them what had happened, and then they no longer +concealed how it had fared with them. Hans laughed and said, “It served +you quite right; why were you so greedy with your meat? It is a +disgrace that you who are so big should have let yourselves be beaten +by the dwarf.” Thereupon they took a basket and a rope, and all three +went to the hole in the rock into which the dwarf had slipped, and let +Hans and his club down in the basket. When Hans had reached the bottom, +he found a door, and when he opened it a maiden was sitting there who +was lovely as any picture, nay, so beautiful that no words can express +it, and by her side sat the dwarf and grinned at Hans like a sea-cat! +She, however, was bound with chains, and looked so mournfully at him +that Hans felt great pity for her, and thought to himself, “Thou must +deliver her out of the power of the wicked dwarf,” and gave him such a +blow with his club that he fell down dead. Immediately the chains fell +from the maiden, and Hans was enraptured with her beauty. She told him +she was a King’s daughter whom a savage count had stolen away from her +home, and imprisoned there among the rocks, because she would have +nothing to say to him. The count had, however, set the dwarf as a +watchman, and he had made her bear misery and vexation enough. And now +Hans placed the maiden in the basket and had her drawn up; the basket +came down again, but Hans did not trust his two companions, and +thought, “They have already shown themselves to be false, and told me +nothing about the dwarf; who knows what design they may have against +me?” So he put his club in the basket, and it was lucky he did; for +when the basket was half-way up, they let it fall again, and if Hans +had really been sitting in it he would have been killed. But now he did +not know how he was to work his way out of the depths, and when he +turned it over and over in his mind he found no counsel. “It is indeed +sad,” said he to himself, “that I have to waste away down here,” and as +he was thus walking backwards and forwards, he once more came to the +little chamber where the maiden had been sitting, and saw that the +dwarf had a ring on his finger which shone and sparkled. Then he drew +it off and put it on, and when he turned it round on his finger, he +suddenly heard something rustle over his head. He looked up and saw +spirits of the air hovering above, who told him he was their master, +and asked what his desire might be? Hans was at first struck dumb, but +afterwards he said that they were to carry him above again. They obeyed +instantly, and it was just as if he had flown up himself. When, +however, he was above again, he found no one in sight. Fir-twister and +Rock-splitter had hurried away, and had taken the beautiful maiden with +them. But Hans turned the ring, and the spirits of the air came and +told him that the two were on the sea. Hans ran and ran without +stopping, until he came to the sea-shore, and there far, far out on the +water, he perceived a little boat in which his faithless comrades were +sitting; and in fierce anger he leapt, without thinking what he was +doing, club in hand into the water, and began to swim, but the club, +which weighed a hundredweight, dragged him deep down until he was all +but drowned. Then in the very nick of time he turned his ring, and +immediately the spirits of the air came and bore him as swift as +lightning into the boat. He swung his club and gave his wicked comrades +the reward they merited and threw them into the water, and then he +sailed with the beautiful maiden, who had been in the greatest alarm, +and whom he delivered for the second time, home to her father and +mother, and married her, and all rejoiced exceedingly. + + + +167 The Peasant in Heaven + +Once on a time a poor pious peasant died, and arrived before the gate +of heaven. At the same time a very rich, rich lord came there who also +wanted to get into heaven. Then Saint Peter came with the key, and +opened the door, and let the great man in, but apparently did not see +the peasant, and shut the door again. And now the peasant outside, +heard how the great man was received in heaven with all kinds of +rejoicing, and how they were making music, and singing within. At +length all became quiet again, and Saint Peter came and opened the gate +of heaven, and let the peasant in. The peasant, however, expected that +they would make music and sing when he went in also, but all remained +quite quiet; he was received with great affection, it is true, and the +angels came to meet him, but no one sang. Then the peasant asked Saint +Peter how it was that they did not sing for him as they had done when +the rich man went in, and said that it seemed to him that there in +heaven things were done with just as much partiality as on earth. Then +said Saint Peter, “By no means, thou art just as dear to us as any one +else, and wilt enjoy every heavenly delight that the rich man enjoys, +but poor fellows like thee come to heaven every day, but a rich man +like this does not come more than once in a hundred years!” + + + +168 Lean Lisa + +Lean Lisa was of a very different way of thinking from lazy Harry and +fat Trina, who never let anything disturb their peace. She scoured +everything with ashes, from morning till evening, and burdened her +husband, Long Laurence, with so much work that he had heavier weights +to carry than an ass with three sacks. It was, however, all to no +purpose, they had nothing and came to nothing. One night as she lay in +bed, and could hardly move one limb for weariness, she still did not +allow her thoughts to go to sleep. She thrust her elbows into her +husband’s side, and said, “Listen, Lenz, to what I have been thinking: +if I were to find one florin and one was given to me, I would borrow +another to put to them, and thou too shouldst give me another, and then +as soon as I had got the four florins together, I would buy a young +cow.” This pleased the husband right well. “It is true,” said he, “that +I do not know where I am to get the florin which thou wantest as a gift +from me; but, if thou canst get the money together, and canst buy a cow +with it, thou wilt do well to carry out thy project. I shall be glad,” +he added, “if the cow has a calf, and then I shall often get a drink of +milk to refresh me.” “The milk is not for thee,” said the woman, “we +must let the calf suck that it may become big and fat, and we may be +able to sell it well.” “Certainly,” replied the man, “but still we will +take a little milk; that will do no harm.” “Who has taught thee to +manage cows?” said the woman; “Whether it does harm or not, I will not +allow it, and even if thou wert to stand on thy head for it, thou +shouldst not have a drop of the milk! Dost thou think, because there is +no satisfying thee, Long Laurence, that thou art to eat up what I earn +with so much difficulty?” “Wife,” said the man, “be quiet, or I will +give thee a blow on thy mouth!” “What!” cried she, “thou threatenest +me, thou glutton, thou rascal, thou lazy Harry!” She was just laying +hold of his hair, but long Laurence got up, seized both Lean Lisa’s +withered arms in one hand, and with the other he pressed down her head +into the pillow, let her scold, and held her until she fell asleep for +very weariness. Whether she continued to wrangle when she awoke next +morning, or whether she went out to look for the florin which she +wanted to find, that I know not. + + + +169 The Hut in the Forest + +A poor wood-cutter lived with his wife and three daughters in a little +hut on the edge of a lonely forest. One morning as he was about to go +to his work, he said to his wife, “Let my dinner be brought into the +forest to me by my eldest daughter, or I shall never get my work done, +and in order that she may not miss her way,” he added, “I will take a +bag of millet with me and strew the seeds on the path.” When, +therefore, the sun was just above the center of the forest, the girl +set out on her way with a bowl of soup, but the field-sparrows, and +wood-sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up +the millet long before, and the girl could not find the track. Then +trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and night +began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and +she began to be afraid. Then in the distance she perceived a light +which glimmered between the trees. “There ought to be some people +living there, who can take me in for the night,” thought she, and went +up to the light. It was not long before she came to a house the windows +of which were all lighted up. She knocked, and a rough voice from +inside cried, “Come in.” The girl stepped into the dark entrance, and +knocked at the door of the room. “Just come in,” cried the voice, and +when she opened the door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the +table, supporting his face with both hands, and his white beard fell +down over the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three +animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. The girl told her story to +the old man, and begged for shelter for the night. The man said, + +“Pretty little hen, +Pretty little cock, +And pretty brindled cow, +What say ye to that?” + + +“Duks,” answered the animals, and that must have meant, “We are +willing,” for the old man said, “Here you shall have shelter and food, +go to the fire, and cook us our supper.” The girl found in the kitchen +abundance of everything, and cooked a good supper, but had no thought +of the animals. She carried the full dishes to the table, seated +herself by the gray-haired man, ate and satisfied her hunger. When she +had had enough, she said, “But now I am tired, where is there a bed in +which I can lie down, and sleep?” The animals replied, + +“Thou hast eaten with him, +Thou hast drunk with him, +Thou hast had no thought for us, +So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.” + + +Then said the old man, “Just go upstairs, and thou wilt find a room +with two beds, shake them up, and put white linen on them, and then I, +too, will come and lie down to sleep.” The girl went up, and when she +had shaken the beds and put clean sheets on, she lay down in one of +them without waiting any longer for the old man. After some time, +however, the gray-haired man came, took his candle, looked at the girl +and shook his head. When he saw that she had fallen into a sound sleep, +he opened a trap-door, and let her down into the cellar. + +Late at night the wood-cutter came home, and reproached his wife for +leaving him to hunger all day. “It is not my fault,” she replied, “the +girl went out with your dinner, and must have lost herself, but she is +sure to come back to-morrow.” The wood-cutter, however, arose before +dawn to go into the forest, and requested that the second daughter +should take him his dinner that day. “I will take a bag with lentils,” +said he; “the seeds are larger than millet, the girl will see them +better, and can’t lose her way.” At dinner-time, therefore, the girl +took out the food, but the lentils had disappeared. The birds of the +forest had picked them up as they had done the day before, and had left +none. The girl wandered about in the forest until night, and then she +too reached the house of the old man, was told to go in, and begged for +food and a bed. The man with the white beard again asked the animals, + +“Pretty little hen, +Pretty little cock, +And pretty brindled cow, +What say ye to that?” + + +The animals again replied “Duks,” and everything happened just as it +had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank +with the old man, and did not concern herself about the animals, and +when she inquired about her bed they answered, + +“Thou hast eaten with him, +Thou hast drunk with him, +Thou hast had no thought for us, +To find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.” + + +When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his head, +and let her down into the cellar. + +On the third morning the wood-cutter said to his wife, “Send our +youngest child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good and +obedient, and will stay in the right path, and not run about after +every wild humble-bee, as her sisters did.” The mother did not want to +do it, and said, “Am I to lose my dearest child, as well?” + +“Have no fear,” he replied, “the girl will not go astray; she is too +prudent and sensible; besides I will take some peas with me, and strew +them about. They are still larger than lentils, and will show her the +way.” But when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the +wood-pigeons had already got all the peas in their crops, and she did +not know which way she was to turn. She was full of sorrow and never +ceased to think how hungry her father would be, and how her good mother +would grieve, if she did not go home. At length when it grew dark, she +saw the light and came to the house in the forest. She begged quite +prettily to be allowed to spend the night there, and the man with the +white beard once more asked his animals, + +“Pretty little hen, +Pretty little cock, +And beautiful brindled cow, +What say ye to that?” + + +“Duks,” said they. Then the girl went to the stove where the animals +were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked their smooth +feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled cow between her +horns, and when, in obedience to the old man’s orders, she had made +ready some good soup, and the bowl was placed upon the table, she said, +“Am I to eat as much as I want, and the good animals to have nothing? +Outside is food in plenty, I will look after them first.” So she went +and brought some barley and stewed it for the cock and hen, and a whole +armful of sweet-smelling hay for the cow. “I hope you will like it, +dear animals,” said she, “and you shall have a refreshing draught in +case you are thirsty.” Then she fetched in a bucketful of water, and +the cock and hen jumped on to the edge of it and dipped their beaks in, +and then held up their heads as the birds do when they drink, and the +brindled cow also took a hearty draught. When the animals were fed, the +girl seated herself at the table by the old man, and ate what he had +left. It was not long before the cock and the hen began to thrust their +heads beneath their wings, and the eyes of the cow likewise began to +blink. Then said the girl, “Ought we not to go to bed?” + +“Pretty little hen, +Pretty little cock, +And pretty brindled cow, +What say ye to that?” + + +The animals answered “Duks,” + +“Thou hast eaten with us, +Thou hast drunk with us, +Thou hast had kind thought for all of us, +We wish thee good-night.” + + +Then the maiden went upstairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid clean +sheets on them, and when she had done it the old man came and lay down +on one of the beds, and his white beard reached down to his feet. The +girl lay down on the other, said her prayers, and fell asleep. + +She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise in the +house that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and splitting in +every corner, and the doors sprang open, and beat against the walls. +The beams groaned as if they were being torn out of their joints, it +seemed as if the staircase were falling down, and at length there was a +crash as if the entire roof had fallen in. As, however, all grew quiet +once more, and the girl was not hurt, she stayed quietly lying where +she was, and fell asleep again. But when she woke up in the morning +with the brilliancy of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold? She was +lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal +splendor; on the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of green +silk, the bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet, and on a +chair close by, was a pair of shoes embroidered with pearls. The girl +believed that she was in a dream, but three richly clad attendants came +in, and asked what orders she would like to give? “If you will go,” she +replied, “I will get up at once and make ready some soup for the old +man, and then I will feed the pretty little hen, and the cock, and the +beautiful brindled cow.” She thought the old man was up already, and +looked round at his bed; he, however, was not lying in it, but a +stranger. And while she was looking at him, and becoming aware that he +was young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, “I am a +King’s son, and was bewitched by a wicked witch, and made to live in +this forest, as an old gray-haired man; no one was allowed to be with +me but my three attendants in the form of a cock, a hen, and a brindled +cow. The spell was not to be broken until a girl came to us whose heart +was so good that she showed herself full of love, not only towards +mankind, but towards animals—and that thou hast done, and by thee at +midnight we were set free, and the old hut in the forest was changed +back again into my royal palace.” And when they had arisen, the King’s +son ordered the three attendants to set out and fetch the father and +mother of the girl to the marriage feast. “But where are my two +sisters?” inquired the maiden. “I have locked them in the cellar, and +to-morrow they shall be led into the forest, and shall live as servants +to a charcoal-burner, until they have grown kinder, and do not leave +poor animals to suffer hunger.” + + + +170 Sharing Joy and Sorrow + +There was once a tailor, who was a quarrelsome fellow, and his wife, +who was good, industrious, and pious, never could please him. Whatever +she did, he was not satisfied, but grumbled and scolded, and knocked +her about and beat her. As the authorities at last heard of it, they +had him summoned, and put in prison in order to make him better. He was +kept for a while on bread and water, and then set free again. He was +forced, however, to promise not to beat his wife any more, but to live +with her in peace, and share joy and sorrow with her, as married people +ought to do. All went on well for a time, but then he fell into his old +ways, and was surly and quarrelsome. And because he dared not beat her, +he would seize her by the hair and tear it out. The woman escaped from +him, and sprang out into the yard, but he ran after her with his +yard-measure and scissors, and chased her about, and threw the +yard-measure and scissors at her, and whatever else came his way. When +he hit her he laughed, and when he missed her, he stormed and swore. +This went on so long that the neighbors came to the wife’s assistance. +The tailor was again summoned before the magistrates, and reminded of +his promise. “Dear gentlemen,” said he, “I have kept my word, I have +not beaten her, but have shared joy and sorrow with her.” “How can that +be,” said the judge, “when she continually brings such heavy complaints +against you?” “I have not beaten her, but just because she looked so +strange I wanted to comb her hair with my hand; she, however, got away +from me, and left me quite spitefully. Then I hurried after her, and in +order to bring her back to her duty, I threw at her as a well-meant +admonition whatever came readily to hand. I have shared joy and sorrow +with her also, for whenever I hit her I was full of joy, and she of +sorrow, and if I missed her, then she was joyful, and I sorry.” The +judges were not satisfied with this answer, but gave him the reward he +deserved. + + + +171 The Willow-Wren + +In former days every sound still had its meaning and application. When +the smith’s hammer resounded, it cried, “Strike away! strike away.” +When the carpenter’s plane grated, it said, “Here goes! here goes.” If +the mill wheel began to clack, it said, “Help, Lord God! help, Lord +God!” And if the miller was a cheat and happened to leave the mill, it +spoke high German, and first asked slowly, “Who is there? Who is +there?” and then answered quickly, “The miller! the miller!” and at +last quite in a hurry, “He steals bravely! he steals bravely! three +pecks in a bushel.” + +At this time the birds also had their own language which every one +understood; now it only sounds like chirping, screeching, and +whistling, and to some like music without words. It came into the +bird’s mind, however, that they would no longer be without a ruler, and +would choose one of themselves to be their King. One alone amongst +them, the green plover, was opposed to this. He had lived free, and +would die free, and anxiously flying hither and thither, he cried, +“Where shall I go? where shall I go?” He retired into a solitary and +unfrequented marsh, and showed himself no more among his fellows. + +The birds now wished to discuss the matter, and on a fine May morning +they all gathered together from the woods and fields: eagles and +chaffinches, owls and crows, larks and sparrows, how can I name them +all? Even the cuckoo came, and the hoopoe, his clerk, who is so called +because he is always heard a few days before him, and a very small bird +which as yet had no name, mingled with the band. The hen, which by some +accident had heard nothing of the whole matter, was astonished at the +great assemblage. “What, what, what is going to be done?” she cackled; +but the cock calmed his beloved hen, and said, “Only rich people,” and +told her what they had on hand. It was decided, however, that the one +who could fly the highest should be King. A tree-frog which was sitting +among the bushes, when he heard that, cried a warning, “No, no, no! +no!” because he thought that many tears would be shed because of this; +but the crow said, “Caw, caw,” and that all would pass off peaceably. +It was now determined that on this fine morning they should at once +begin to ascend, so that hereafter no one should be able to say, “I +could easily have flown much higher, but the evening came on, and I +could do no more.” On a given signal, therefore, the whole troop rose +up in the air. The dust ascended from the land, and there was +tremendous fluttering and whirring and beating of wings, and it looked +as if a black cloud was rising up. The little birds were, however, soon +left behind. They could go no farther, and fell back to the ground. The +larger birds held out longer, but none could equal the eagle, who +mounted so high that he could have picked the eyes out of the sun. And +when he saw that the others could not get up to him, he thought, “Why +shouldst thou fly still higher, thou art the King?” and began to let +himself down again. The birds beneath him at once cried to him. “Thou +must be our King, no one has flown so high as thou.” “Except me,” +screamed the little fellow without a name, who had crept into the +breast-feathers of the eagle. And as he was not at all tired, he rose +up and mounted so high that he reached heaven itself. When, however, he +had gone as far as this, he folded his wings together, and called down +with clear and penetrating voice, “I am King! I am King.” + +“Thou, our King?” cried the birds angrily. “Thou hast compassed it by +trick and cunning!” So they made another condition. He should be King +who could go down lowest in the ground. How the goose did flap about +with its broad breast when it was once more on the land! How quickly +the cock scratched a hole! The duck came off the worst of all, for she +leapt into a ditch, but sprained her legs, and waddled away to a +neighboring pond, crying, “Cheating, cheating!” The little bird without +a name, however, sought out a mouse-hole, slipped down into it, and +cried out of it with his small voice, “I am King! I am King!” + +“Thou our King!” cried the birds still more angrily. “Dost thou think +thy cunning shall prevail?” They determined to keep him a prisoner in +the hole and starve him out. The owl was placed as sentinel in front of +it, and was not to let the rascal out if she had any value for her +life. When evening was come all the birds were feeling very tired after +exerting their wings so much, so they went to bed with their wives and +children. The owl alone remained standing by the mouse-hole, gazing +steadfastly into it with her great eyes. In the meantime she, too, had +grown tired and thought to herself, “You might certainly shut one eye, +you will still watch with the other, and the little miscreant shall not +come out of his hole.” So she shut one eye, and with the other looked +straight at the mouse-hole. The little fellow put his head out and +peeped, and wanted to slip away, but the owl came forward immediately, +and he drew his head back again. Then the owl opened the one eye again, +and shut the other, intending to shut them in turn all through the +night. + +But when she next shut the one eye, she forgot to open the other, and +as soon as both her eyes were shut she fell asleep. The little fellow +soon observed that, and slipped away. + +From that day forth, the owl has never dared to show herself by +daylight, for if she does the other birds chase her and pluck her +feathers out. She only flies out by night, but hates and pursues mice +because they make such ugly holes. The little bird, too, is very +unwilling to let himself be seen, because he is afraid it will cost him +his life if he is caught. He steals about in the hedges, and when he is +quite safe, he sometimes cries, “I am King,” and for this reason, the +other birds call him in mockery, ‘King of the hedges’ (Zaunkönig). No +one, however, was so happy as the lark at not having to obey the little +King. As soon as the sun appears, she ascends high in the air and +cries, “Ah, how beautiful that is! beautiful that is! beautiful, +beautiful! ah, how beautiful that is!” + + + +172 The Sole + +The fishes had for a long time been discontented because no order +prevailed in their kingdom. None of them turned aside for the others, +but all swam to the right or the left as they fancied, or darted +between those who wanted to stay together, or got into their way; and a +strong one gave a weak one a blow with its tail, which drove it away, +or else swallowed it up without more ado. “How delightful it would be,” +said they, “if we had a king who enforced law and justice among us!” +and they met together to choose for their ruler, the one who could +cleave through the water most quickly, and give help to the weak ones. + +They placed themselves in rank and file by the shore, and the pike gave +the signal with his tail, on which they all started. Like an arrow, the +pike darted away, and with him the herring, the gudgeon, the perch, the +carp, and all the rest of them. Even the sole swam with them, and hoped +to reach the winning-place. All at once, the cry was heard, “The +herring is first!” “Who is first?” screamed angrily the flat envious +sole, who had been left far behind, “who is first?” “The herring! The +herring,” was the answer. “The naked herring?” cried the jealous +creature, “the naked herring?” Since that time the sole’s mouth has +been at one side for a punishment. + + + +173 The Bittern and the Hoopoe + +“Where do you like best to feed your flocks?” said a man to an old +cow-herd. “Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, +or else it is no use.” “Why not?” asked the man. “Do you hear that +melancholy cry from the meadow there?” answered the shepherd, “that is +the bittern; he was once a shepherd, and so was the hoopoe also,—I will +tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green +meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and +unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, +where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got +no strength. When it was evening, and the shepherds wanted to drive +their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again; +they were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, “Come, +cows, come,” but it was of no use; they took no notice of his calling. +The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so +faint and weak had they become. “Up, up, up,” screamed he, but it was +in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has +no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to +watch, the bittern cries, “Come, cows, come,” and the hoopoe, “Up, up, +up.” + + + +174 The Owl + +Two or three hundred years ago, when people were far from being so +crafty and cunning as they are now-a-day, an extraordinary event took +place in a little town. By some mischance one of the great owls, called +horned owls, had come from the neighboring woods into the barn of one +of the townsfolk in the night-time, and when day broke did not dare to +venture forth again from her retreat, for fear of the other birds, +which raised a terrible outcry whenever she appeared. In the morning +when the man-servant went into the barn to fetch some straw, he was so +mightily alarmed at the sight of the owl sitting there in a corner, +that he ran away and announced to his master that a monster, the like +of which he had never set eyes on in his life, and which could devour a +man without the slightest difficulty, was sitting in the barn, rolling +its eyes about in its head. “I know you already,” said the master, “you +have courage enough to chase a blackbird about the fields, but when you +see a dead hen lying, you have to get a stick before you go near it. I +must go and see for myself what kind of a monster it is,” added the +master, and went quite boldly into the granary and looked round him. +When, however, he saw the strange grim creature with his own eyes, he +was no less terrified than the servant had been. With two bounds he +sprang out, ran to his neighbours, and begged them imploringly to lend +him assistance against an unknown and dangerous beast, or else the +whole town might be in danger if it were to break loose out of the +barn, where it was shut up. A great noise and clamour arose in all the +streets, the townsmen came armed with spears, hay-forks, scythes, and +axes, as if they were going out against an enemy; finally, the senators +appeared with the burgomaster at their head. When they had drawn up in +the market-place, they marched to the barn, and surrounded it on all +sides. Thereupon one of the most courageous of them stepped forth and +entered with his spear lowered, but came running out immediately +afterwards with a shriek and as pale as death, and could not utter a +single word. Yet two others ventured in, but they fared no better. At +last one stepped forth; a great strong man who was famous for his +warlike deeds, and said, “You will not drive away the monster by merely +looking at him; we must be in earnest here, but I see that you have all +tuned into women, and not one of you dares to encounter the animal.” He +ordered them to give him some armour, had a sword and spear brought, +and armed himself. All praised his courage, though many feared for his +life. The two barn-doors were opened, and they saw the owl, which in +the meantime had perched herself on the middle of a great cross-beam. +He had a ladder brought, and when he raised it, and made ready to climb +up, they all cried out to him that he was to bear himself bravely, and +commended him to St. George, who slew the dragon. When he had just got +to the top, and the owl perceived that he had designs on her, and was +also bewildered by the crowd and the shouting, and knew not how to +escape, she rolled her eyes, ruffled her feathers, flapped her wings, +snapped her beak, and cried, “Tuwhit, tuwhoo,” in a harsh voice. +“Strike home! strike home!” screamed the crowd outside to the valiant +hero. “Any one who was standing where I am standing,” answered he, +“would not cry, strike home!” He certainly did plant his foot one rung +higher on the ladder, but then he began to tremble, and half-fainting, +went back again. + +And now there was no one left who dared to put himself in such danger. +“The monster,” said they, “has poisoned and mortally wounded the very +strongest man among us, by snapping at him and just breathing on him! +Are we, too, to risk our lives?” They took counsel as to what they +ought to do to prevent the whole town being destroyed. For a long time +everything seemed to be of no use, but at length the burgomaster found +an expedient. “My opinion,” said he, “is that we ought, out of the +common purse, to pay for this barn, and whatsoever corn, straw, or hay +it contains, and thus indemnify the owner, and then burn down the whole +building, and the terrible beast with it. Thus no one will have to +endanger his life. This is no time for thinking of expense, and +niggardliness would be ill applied.” All agreed with him. So they set +fire to the barn at all four corners, and with it the owl was miserably +burnt. Let any one who will not believe it, go thither and inquire for +himself. + + + +175 The Moon + +In days gone by there was a land where the nights were always dark, and +the sky spread over it like a black cloth, for there the moon never +rose, and no star shone in the obscurity. At the creation of the world, +the light at night had been sufficient. Three young fellows once went +out of this country on a travelling expedition, and arrived in another +kingdom, where, in the evening when the sun had disappeared behind the +mountains, a shining globe was placed on an oak-tree, which shed a soft +light far and wide. By means of this, everything could very well be +seen and distinguished, even though it was not so brilliant as the sun. +The travellers stopped and asked a countryman who was driving past with +his cart, what kind of a light that was. “That is the moon,” answered +he; “our mayor bought it for three thalers, and fastened it to the +oak-tree. He has to pour oil into it daily, and to keep it clean, so +that it may always burn clearly. He receives a thaler a week from us +for doing it.” + +When the countryman had driven away, one of them said, “We could make +some use of this lamp, we have an oak-tree at home, which is just as +big as this, and we could hang it on that. What a pleasure it would be +not to have to feel about at night in the darkness!” “I’ll tell you +what we’ll do,” said the second; “we will fetch a cart and horses and +carry away the moon. The people here may buy themselves another.” “I’m +a good climber,” said the third, “I will bring it down.” The fourth +brought a cart and horses, and the third climbed the tree, bored a hole +in the moon, passed a rope through it, and let it down. When the +shining ball lay in the cart, they covered it over with a cloth, that +no one might observe the theft. They conveyed it safely into their own +country, and placed it on a high oak. Old and young rejoiced, when the +new lamp let its light shine over the whole land, and bed-rooms and +sitting-rooms were filled with it. The dwarfs came forth from their +caves in the rocks, and the tiny elves in their little red coats danced +in rings on the meadows. + +The four took care that the moon was provided with oil, cleaned the +wick, and received their weekly thaler, but they became old men, and +when one of them grew ill, and saw that he was about to die, he +appointed that one quarter of the moon, should, as his property, be +laid in the grave with him. When he died, the mayor climbed up the +tree, and cut off a quarter with the hedge-shears, and this was placed +in his coffin. The light of the moon decreased, but still not visibly. +When the second died, the second quarter was buried with him, and the +light diminished. It grew weaker still after the death of the third, +who likewise took his part of it away with him; and when the fourth was +borne to his grave, the old state of darkness recommenced, and whenever +the people went out at night without their lanterns they knocked their +heads together. + +When, however, the pieces of the moon had united themselves together +again in the world below, where darkness had always prevailed, it came +to pass that the dead became restless and awoke from their sleep. They +were astonished when they were able to see again; the moonlight was +quite sufficient for them, for their eyes had become so weak that they +could not have borne the brilliance of the sun. They rose up and were +merry, and fell into their former ways of living. Some of them went to +the play and to dance, others hastened to the public-houses, where they +asked for wine, got drunk, brawled, quarreled, and at last took up +cudgels, and belabored each other. The noise became greater and +greater, and at last reached even to heaven. + +Saint Peter who guards the gate of heaven thought the lower world had +broken out in revolt and gathered together the heavenly troops, which +are to drive back the Evil One when he and his associates storm the +abode of the blessed. As these, however, did not come, he got on his +horse and rode through the gate of heaven, down into the world below. +There he reduced the dead to subjection, bade them lie down in their +graves again, took the moon away with him, and hung it up in heaven. + + + +176 The Duration of Life + +When God had created the world and was about to fix the length of each +creature’s life, the ass came and asked, “Lord, how long shall I live?” +“Thirty years,” replied God; “does that content thee?” “Ah, Lord,” +answered the ass, “that is a long time. Think of my painful existence! +To carry heavy burdens from morning to night, to drag sacks of corn to +the mill, that others may eat bread, to be cheered and refreshed with +nothing but blows and kicks. Relieve me of a portion of this long +time.” Then God had pity on him and relieved him of eighteen years. The +ass went away comforted, and the dog appeared. “How long wouldst thou +like to live?” said God to him. “Thirty years are too many for the ass, +but thou wilt be satisfied with that.” “Lord,” answered the dog, “is +that thy will? Consider how I shall have to run, my feet will never +hold out so long, and when I have once lost my voice for barking, and +my teeth for biting, what will be left for me to do but run from one +corner to another and growl?” God saw that he was right, and released +him from twelve years of life. Then came the monkey. “Thou wilt +certainly live thirty years willingly?” said the Lord to him. “Thou +hast no need to work as the ass and the dog have to do, and wilt always +enjoy thyself.” “Ah! Lord,” he answered, “it may seem as if that were +the case, but it is quite different. When it rains porridge I have no +spoon. I am always to play merry pranks, and make faces which force +people to laugh, and if they give me an apple, and I bite into it, why +it is sour! How often sadness hides itself behind mirth! I shall never +be able to hold out for thirty years.” God was gracious and took off +ten. + +At last man appeared, joyous, healthy and vigorous, and begged God to +appoint his time for him. “Thirty years shalt thou live,” said the +Lord. “Is that enough for thee?” “What a short time,” cried man, “when +I have built my house and my fire burns on my own hearth; when I have +planted trees which blossom and bear fruit, and am just intending to +enjoy my life, I am to die! O Lord, lengthen my time.” “I will add to +it the ass’s eighteen years,” said God. “That is not enough,” replied +the man. “Thou shalt also have the dog’s twelve years.” “Still too +little!” “Well, then,” said God, “I will give thee the monkey’s ten +years also, but more thou shalt not have.” The man went away, but was +not satisfied. + +So man lives seventy years. The first thirty are his human years, which +are soon gone; then is he healthy, merry, works with pleasure, and is +glad of his life. Then follow the ass’s eighteen years, when one burden +after another is laid on him, he has to carry the corn which feeds +others, and blows and kicks are the reward of his faithful services. +Then come the dog’s twelve years, when he lies in the corner, and +growls and has no longer any teeth to bite with, and when this time is +over the monkey’s ten years form the end. Then man is weak-headed and +foolish, does silly things, and becomes the jest of the children. + + + +177 Death’s Messengers + +In ancient times a giant was once travelling on a great highway, when +suddenly an unknown man sprang up before him, and said, “Halt, not one +step farther!” “What!” cried the giant, “a creature whom I can crush +between my fingers, wants to block my way? Who art thou that thou +darest to speak so boldly?” “I am Death,” answered the other. “No one +resists me, and thou also must obey my commands.” But the giant +refused, and began to struggle with Death. It was a long, violent +battle, at last the giant got the upper hand, and struck Death down +with his fist, so that he dropped by a stone. The giant went his way, +and Death lay there conquered, and so weak that he could not get up +again. “What will be done now,” said he, “if I stay lying here in a +corner? No one will die in the world, and it will get so full of people +that they won’t have room to stand beside each other.” In the meantime +a young man came along the road, who was strong and healthy, singing a +song, and glancing around on every side. When he saw the half-fainting +one, he went compassionately to him, raised him up, poured a +strengthening draught out of his flask for him, and waited till he came +round. “Dost thou know,” said the stranger, whilst he was getting up, +“who I am, and who it is whom thou hast helped on his legs again?” +“No,” answered the youth, “I do not know thee.” “I am Death,” said he. +“I spare no one, and can make no exception with thee, but that thou +mayst see that I am grateful, I promise thee that I will not fall on +thee unexpectedly, but will send my messengers to thee before I come +and take thee away.” “Well,” said the youth, “it is something gained +that I shall know when thou comest, and at any rate be safe from thee +for so long.” Then he went on his way, and was light-hearted, and +enjoyed himself, and lived without thought. But youth and health did +not last long, soon came sicknesses and sorrows, which tormented him by +day, and took away his rest by night. “Die, I shall not,” said he to +himself, “for Death will send his messengers before that, but I do wish +these wretched days of sickness were over.” As soon as he felt himself +well again he began once more to live merrily. Then one day some one +tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round, and Death stood behind +him, and said, “Follow me, the hour of thy departure from this world +has come.” “What,” replied the man, “wilt thou break thy word? Didst +thou not promise me that thou wouldst send thy messengers to me before +coming thyself? I have seen none!” “Silence!” answered Death. “Have I +not sent one messenger to thee after another? Did not fever come and +smite thee, and shake thee, and cast thee down? Has dizziness not +bewildered thy head? Has not gout twitched thee in all thy limbs? Did +not thine ears sing? Did not tooth-ache bite into thy cheeks? Was it +not dark before thine eyes? And besides all that, has not my own +brother Sleep reminded thee every night of me? Didst thou not lie by +night as if thou wert already dead? The man could make no answer; he +yielded to his fate, and went away with Death. + + + +178 Master Pfriem (Master Cobbler’s Awl) + +Master Pfriem was a short, thin, but lively man, who never rested a +moment. His face, of which his turned-up nose was the only prominent +feature, was marked with small-pox and pale as death, his hair was gray +and shaggy, his eyes small, but they glanced perpetually about on all +sides. He saw everything, criticised everything, knew everything best, +and was always in the right. When he went into the streets, he moved +his arms about as if he were rowing; and once he struck the pail of a +girl, who was carrying water, so high in the air that he himself was +wetted all over by it. “Stupid thing,” cried he to her, while he was +shaking himself, “couldst thou not see that I was coming behind thee?” +By trade he was a shoemaker, and when he worked he pulled his thread +out with such force that he drove his fist into every one who did not +keep far enough off. No apprentice stayed more than a month with him, +for he had always some fault to find with the very best work. At one +time it was that the stitches were not even, at another that one shoe +was too long, or one heel higher than the other, or the leather not cut +large enough. “Wait,” said he to his apprentice, “I will soon show thee +how we make skins soft,” and he brought a strap and gave him a couple +of strokes across the back. He called them all sluggards. He himself +did not turn much work out of his hands, for he never sat still for a +quarter of an hour. If his wife got up very early in the morning and +lighted the fire, he jumped out of bed, and ran bare-footed into the +kitchen, crying, “Wilt thou burn my house down for me? That is a fire +one could roast an ox by! Does wood cost nothing?” If the servants were +standing by their wash-tubs and laughing, and telling each other all +they knew, he scolded them, and said, “There stand the geese cackling, +and forgetting their work, to gossip! And why fresh soap? Disgraceful +extravagance and shameful idleness into the bargain! They want to save +their hands, and not rub the things properly!” And out he would run and +knock a pail full of soap and water over, so that the whole kitchen was +flooded. Someone was building a new house, so he hurried to the window +to look on. “There, they are using that red sand-stone again that never +dries!” cried he. “No one will ever be healthy in that house! and just +look how badly the fellows are laying the stones! Besides, the mortar +is good for nothing! It ought to have gravel in it, not sand. I shall +live to see that house tumble down on the people who are in it.” He sat +down, put a couple of stitches in, and then jumped up again, unfastened +his leather-apron, and cried, “I will just go out, and appeal to those +men’s consciences.” He stumbled on the carpenters. “What’s this?” cried +he, “you are not working by the line! Do you expect the beams to be +straight?—one wrong will put all wrong.” He snatched an axe out of a +carpenter’s hand and wanted to show him how he ought to cut; but as a +cart loaded with clay came by, he threw the axe away, and hastened to +the peasant who was walking by the side of it: “You are not in your +right mind,” said he, “who yokes young horses to a heavily-laden cart? +The poor beasts will die on the spot.” The peasant did not give him an +answer, and Pfriem in a rage ran back into his workshop. When he was +setting himself to work again, the apprentice reached him a shoe. +“Well, what’s that again?” screamed he, “Haven’t I told you you ought +not to cut shoes so broad? Who would buy a shoe like this, which is +hardly anything else but a sole? I insist on my orders being followed +exactly.” “Master,” answered the apprentice, “you may easily be quite +right about the shoe being a bad one, but it is the one which you +yourself cut out, and yourself set to work at. When you jumped up a +while since, you knocked it off the table, and I have only just picked +it up. An angel from heaven, however, would never make you believe +that.” + +One night Master Pfriem dreamed he was dead, and on his way to heaven. +When he got there, he knocked loudly at the door. “I wonder,” said he +to himself, “that they have no knocker on the door,—one knocks one’s +knuckles sore.” The apostle Peter opened the door, and wanted to see +who demanded admission so noisily. “Ah, it’s you, Master Pfriem;” said +he, “well, I’ll let you in, but I warn you that you must give up that +habit of yours, and find fault with nothing you see in heaven, or you +may fare ill.” “You might have spared your warning,” answered Pfriem. +“I know already what is seemly, and here, God be thanked, everything is +perfect, and there is nothing to blame as there is on earth.” So he +went in, and walked up and down the wide expanses of heaven. He looked +around him, to the left and to the right, but sometimes shook his head, +or muttered something to himself. Then he saw two angels who were +carrying away a beam. It was the beam which some one had had in his own +eye whilst he was looking for the splinter in the eye of another. They +did not, however, carry the beam lengthways, but obliquely. “Did any +one ever see such a piece of stupidity?” thought Master Pfriem; but he +said nothing, and seemed satisfied with it. “It comes to the same thing +after all, whichever way they carry the beam, straight or crooked, if +they only get along with it, and truly I do not see them knock against +anything.” Soon after this he saw two angels who were drawing water out +of a well into a bucket, but at the same time he observed that the +bucket was full of holes, and that the water was running out of it on +every side. They were watering the earth with rain. “Hang it,” he +exclaimed; but happily recollected himself, and thought, “Perhaps it is +only a pastime. If it is an amusement, then it seems they can do +useless things of this kind even here in heaven, where people, as I +have already noticed, do nothing but idle about.” He went farther and +saw a cart which had stuck fast in a deep hole. “It’s no wonder,” said +he to the man who stood by it; “who would load so unreasonably? what +have you there?” “Good wishes,” replied the man, “I could not go along +the right way with it, but still I have pushed it safely up here, and +they won’t leave me sticking here.” In fact an angel did come and +harnessed two horses to it. “That’s quite right,” thought Pfriem, “but +two horses won’t get that cart out, it must at least have four to it.” +Another angel came and brought two more horses; she did not, however, +harness them in front of it, but behind. That was too much for Master +Pfriem, “Clumsy creature,” he burst out with, “what are you doing +there? Has any one ever since the world began seen a cart drawn in that +way? But you, in your conceited arrogance, think that you know +everything best.” He was going to say more, but one of the inhabitants +of heaven seized him by the throat and pushed him forth with +irresistible strength. Beneath the gateway Master Pfriem turned his +head round to take one more look at the cart, and saw that it was being +raised into the air by four winged horses. + +At this moment Master Pfriem awoke. “Things are certainly arranged in +heaven otherwise than they are on earth,” said he to himself, “and that +excuses much; but who can see horses harnessed both behind and before +with patience; to be sure they had wings, but who could know that? It +is, besides, great folly to fix a pair of wings to a horse that has +four legs to run with already! But I must get up, or else they will +make nothing but mistakes for me in my house. It is a lucky thing for +me though, that I am not really dead.” + + + +179 The Goose-Girl at the Well + +There was once upon a time a very old woman, who lived with her flock +of geese in a waste place among the mountains, and there had a little +house. The waste was surrounded by a large forest, and every morning +the old woman took her crutch and hobbled into it. There, however, the +dame was quite active, more so than any one would have thought, +considering her age, and collected grass for her geese, picked all the +wild fruit she could reach, and carried everything home on her back. +Any one would have thought that the heavy load would have weighed her +to the ground, but she always brought it safely home. If any one met +her, she greeted him quite courteously. “Good day, dear countryman, it +is a fine day. Ah! you wonder that I should drag grass about, but every +one must take his burthen on his back.” Nevertheless, people did not +like to meet her if they could help it, and took by preference a +round-about way, and when a father with his boys passed her, he +whispered to them, “Beware of the old woman. She has claws beneath her +gloves; she is a witch.” One morning, a handsome young man was going +through the forest. The sun shone bright, the birds sang, a cool breeze +crept through the leaves, and he was full of joy and gladness. He had +as yet met no one, when he suddenly perceived the old witch kneeling on +the ground cutting grass with a sickle. She had already thrust a whole +load into her cloth, and near it stood two baskets, which were filled +with wild apples and pears. “But, good little mother,” said he, “how +canst thou carry all that away?” “I must carry it, dear sir,” answered +she, “rich folk’s children have no need to do such things, but with the +peasant folk the saying goes, don’t look behind you, you will only see +how crooked your back is!” + +“Will you help me?” she said, as he remained standing by her. “You have +still a straight back and young legs, it would be a trifle to you. +Besides, my house is not so very far from here, it stands there on the +heath behind the hill. How soon you would bound up thither.” The young +man took compassion on the old woman. “My father is certainly no +peasant,” replied he, “but a rich count; nevertheless, that you may see +that it is not only peasants who can carry things, I will take your +bundle.” “If you will try it,” said she, “I shall be very glad. You +will certainly have to walk for an hour, but what will that signify to +you; only you must carry the apples and pears as well?” It now seemed +to the young man just a little serious, when he heard of an hour’s +walk, but the old woman would not let him off, packed the bundle on his +back, and hung the two baskets on his arm. “See, it is quite light,” +said she. “No, it is not light,” answered the count, and pulled a +rueful face. “Verily, the bundle weighs as heavily as if it were full +of cobble stones, and the apples and pears are as heavy as lead! I can +scarcely breathe.” He had a mind to put everything down again, but the +old woman would not allow it. “Just look,” said she mockingly, “the +young gentleman will not carry what I, an old woman, have so often +dragged along. You are ready with fine words, but when it comes to be +earnest, you want to take to your heels. Why are you standing loitering +there?” she continued. “Step out. No one will take the bundle off +again.” As long as he walked on level ground, it was still bearable, +but when they came to the hill and had to climb, and the stones rolled +down under his feet as if they were alive, it was beyond his strength. +The drops of perspiration stood on his forehead, and ran, hot and cold, +down his back. “Dame,” said he, “I can go no farther. I want to rest a +little.” “Not here,” answered the old woman, “when we have arrived at +our journey’s end, you can rest; but now you must go forward. Who knows +what good it may do you?” “Old woman, thou art becoming shameless!” +said the count, and tried to throw off the bundle, but he laboured in +vain; it stuck as fast to his back as if it grew there. He turned and +twisted, but he could not get rid of it. The old woman laughed at this, +and sprang about quite delighted on her crutch. “Don’t get angry, dear +sir,” said she, “you are growing as red in the face as a turkey-cock! +Carry your bundle patiently. I will give you a good present when we get +home.” + +What could he do? He was obliged to submit to his fate, and crawl along +patiently behind the old woman. She seemed to grow more and more +nimble, and his burden still heavier. All at once she made a spring, +jumped on to the bundle and seated herself on the top of it; and +however withered she might be, she was yet heavier than the stoutest +country lass. The youth’s knees trembled, but when he did not go on, +the old woman hit him about the legs with a switch and with +stinging-nettles. Groaning continually, he climbed the mountain, and at +length reached the old woman’s house, when he was just about to drop. +When the geese perceived the old woman, they flapped their wings, +stretched out their necks, ran to meet her, cackling all the while. +Behind the flock walked, stick in hand, an old wench, strong and big, +but ugly as night. “Good mother,” said she to the old woman, “has +anything happened to you, you have stayed away so long?” “By no means, +my dear daughter,” answered she, “I have met with nothing bad, but, on +the contrary, with this kind gentleman, who has carried my burthen for +me; only think, he even took me on his back when I was tired. The way, +too, has not seemed long to us; we have been merry, and have been +cracking jokes with each other all the time.” At last the old woman +slid down, took the bundle off the young man’s back, and the baskets +from his arm, looked at him quite kindly, and said, “Now seat yourself +on the bench before the door, and rest. You have fairly earned your +wages, and they shall not be wanting.” Then she said to the goose-girl, +“Go into the house, my dear daughter, it is not becoming for thee to be +alone with a young gentleman; one must not pour oil on to the fire, he +might fall in love with thee.” The count knew not whether to laugh or +to cry. “Such a sweetheart as that,” thought he, “could not touch my +heart, even if she were thirty years younger.” In the meantime the old +woman stroked and fondled her geese as if they were children, and then +went into the house with her daughter. The youth lay down on the bench, +under a wild apple-tree. The air was warm and mild; on all sides +stretched a green meadow, which was set with cowslips, wild thyme, and +a thousand other flowers; through the midst of it rippled a clear brook +on which the sun sparkled, and the white geese went walking backwards +and forwards, or paddled in the water. “It is quite delightful here,” +said he, “but I am so tired that I cannot keep my eyes open; I will +sleep a little. If only a gust of wind does not come and blow my legs +off my body, for they are as rotten as tinder.” + +When he had slept a little while, the old woman came and shook him till +he awoke. “Sit up,” said she, “thou canst not stay here; I have +certainly treated thee hardly, still it has not cost thee thy life. Of +money and land thou hast no need, here is something else for thee.” +Thereupon she thrust a little book into his hand, which was cut out of +a single emerald. “Take great care of it,” said she, “it will bring +thee good fortune.” The count sprang up, and as he felt that he was +quite fresh, and had recovered his vigor, he thanked the old woman for +her present, and set off without even once looking back at the +beautiful daughter. When he was already some way off, he still heard in +the distance the noisy cry of the geese. + +For three days the count had to wander in the wilderness before he +could find his way out. He then reached a large town, and as no one +knew him, he was led into the royal palace, where the King and Queen +were sitting on their throne. The count fell on one knee, drew the +emerald book out of his pocket, and laid it at the Queen’s feet. She +bade him rise and hand her the little book. Hardly, however, had she +opened it, and looked therein, than she fell as if dead to the ground. +The count was seized by the King’s servants, and was being led to +prison, when the Queen opened her eyes, and ordered them to release +him, and every one was to go out, as she wished to speak with him in +private. + +When the Queen was alone, she began to weep bitterly, and said, “Of +what use to me are the splendours and honours with which I am +surrounded; every morning I awake in pain and sorrow. I had three +daughters, the youngest of whom was so beautiful that the whole world +looked on her as a wonder. She was as white as snow, as rosy as +apple-blossom, and her hair as radiant as sun-beams. When she cried, +not tears fell from her eyes, but pearls and jewels only. When she was +fifteen years old, the King summoned all three sisters to come before +his throne. You should have seen how all the people gazed when the +youngest entered, it was just as if the sun were rising! Then the King +spoke, “My daughters, I know not when my last day may arrive; I will +to-day decide what each shall receive at my death. You all love me, but +the one of you who loves me best, shall fare the best.” Each of them +said she loved him best. “Can you not express to me,” said the King, +“how much you do love me, and thus I shall see what you mean?” The +eldest spoke. “I love my father as dearly as the sweetest sugar.” The +second, “I love my father as dearly as my prettiest dress.” But the +youngest was silent. Then the father said, “And thou, my dearest child, +how much dost thou love me?” “I do not know, and can compare my love +with nothing.” But her father insisted that she should name something. +So she said at last, “The best food does not please me without salt, +therefore I love my father like salt.” When the King heard that, he +fell into a passion, and said, “If thou lovest me like salt, thy love +shall also be repaid thee with salt.” Then he divided the kingdom +between the two elder, but caused a sack of salt to be bound on the +back of the youngest, and two servants had to lead her forth into the +wild forest. We all begged and prayed for her, said the Queen, “but the +King’s anger was not to be appeased. How she cried when she had to +leave us! The whole road was strewn with the pearls which flowed from +her eyes. The King soon afterwards repented of his great severity, and +had the whole forest searched for the poor child, but no one could find +her. When I think that the wild beasts have devoured her, I know not +how to contain myself for sorrow; many a time I console myself with the +hope that she is still alive, and may have hidden herself in a cave, or +has found shelter with compassionate people. But picture to yourself, +when I opened your little emerald book, a pearl lay therein, of exactly +the same kind as those which used to fall from my daughter’s eyes; and +then you can also imagine how the sight of it stirred my heart. You +must tell me how you came by that pearl.” The count told her that he +had received it from the old woman in the forest, who had appeared very +strange to him, and must be a witch, but he had neither seen nor hear +anything of the Queen’s child. The King and the Queen resolved to seek +out the old woman. They thought that there where the pearl had been, +they would obtain news of their daughter. + +The old woman was sitting in that lonely place at her spinning-wheel, +spinning. It was already dusk, and a log which was burning on the +hearth gave a scanty light. All at once there was a noise outside, the +geese were coming home from the pasture, and uttering their hoarse +cries. Soon afterwards the daughter also entered. But the old woman +scarcely thanked her, and only shook her head a little. The daughter +sat down beside her, took her spinning-wheel, and twisted the threads +as nimbly as a young girl. Thus they both sat for two hours, and +exchanged never a word. At last something rustled at the window, and +two fiery eyes peered in. It was an old night-owl, which cried, “Uhu!” +three times. The old woman looked up just a little, then she said, +“Now, my little daughter, it is time for thee to go out and do thy +work.” She rose and went out, and where did she go? Over the meadows +ever onward into the valley. At last she came to a well, with three old +oak-trees standing beside it; meanwhile the moon had risen large and +round over the mountain, and it was so light that one could have found +a needle. She removed a skin which covered her face, then bent down to +the well, and began to wash herself. When she had finished, she dipped +the skin also in the water, and then laid it on the meadow, so that it +should bleach in the moonlight, and dry again. But how the maiden was +changed! Such a change as that was never seen before! When the gray +mask fell off, her golden hair broke forth like sunbeams, and spread +about like a mantle over her whole form. Her eyes shone out as brightly +as the stars in heaven, and her cheeks bloomed a soft red like +apple-blossom. + +But the fair maiden was sad. She sat down and wept bitterly. One tear +after another forced itself out of her eyes, and rolled through her +long hair to the ground. There she sat, and would have remained sitting +a long time, if there had not been a rustling and cracking in the +boughs of the neighbouring tree. She sprang up like a roe which has +been overtaken by the shot of the hunter. Just then the moon was +obscured by a dark cloud, and in an instant the maiden had put on the +old skin and vanished, like a light blown out by the wind. + +She ran back home, trembling like an aspen-leaf. The old woman was +standing on the threshold, and the girl was about to relate what had +befallen her, but the old woman laughed kindly, and said, “I already +know all.” She led her into the room and lighted a new log. She did +not, however, sit down to her spinning again, but fetched a broom and +began to sweep and scour, “All must be clean and sweet,” she said to +the girl. “But, mother,” said the maiden, “why do you begin work at so +late an hour? What do you expect?” “Dost thou know then what time it +is?” asked the old woman. “Not yet midnight,” answered the maiden, “but +already past eleven o’clock.” “Dost thou not remember,” continued the +old woman, “that it is three years to-day since thou camest to me? Thy +time is up, we can no longer remain together.” The girl was terrified, +and said, “Alas! dear mother, will you cast me off? Where shall I go? I +have no friends, and no home to which I can go. I have always done as +you bade me, and you have always been satisfied with me; do not send me +away.” The old woman would not tell the maiden what lay before her. “My +stay here is over,” she said to her, “but when I depart, house and +parlour must be clean: therefore do not hinder me in my work. Have no +care for thyself, thou shalt find a roof to shelter thee, and the wages +which I will give thee shall also content thee.” “But tell me what is +about to happen,” the maiden continued to entreat. “I tell thee again, +do not hinder me in my work. Do not say a word more, go to thy chamber, +take the skin off thy face, and put on the silken gown which thou hadst +on when thou camest to me, and then wait in thy chamber until I call +thee.” + +But I must once more tell of the King and Queen, who had journeyed +forth with the count in order to seek out the old woman in the +wilderness. The count had strayed away from them in the wood by night, +and had to walk onwards alone. Next day it seemed to him that he was on +the right track. He still went forward, until darkness came on, then he +climbed a tree, intending to pass the night there, for he feared that +he might lose his way. When the moon illumined the surrounding country +he perceived a figure coming down the mountain. She had no stick in her +hand, but yet he could see that it was the goose-girl, whom he had seen +before in the house of the old woman. “Oho,” cried he, “there she +comes, and if I once get hold of one of the witches, the other shall +not escape me!” But how astonished he was, when she went to the well, +took off the skin and washed herself, when her golden hair fell down +all about her, and she was more beautiful than any one whom he had ever +seen in the whole world. He hardly dared to breathe, but stretched his +head as far forward through the leaves as he dared, and stared at her. +Either he bent over too far, or whatever the cause might be, the bough +suddenly cracked, and that very moment the maiden slipped into the +skin, sprang away like a roe, and as the moon was suddenly covered, +disappeared from his eyes. Hardly had she disappeared, before the count +descended from the tree, and hastened after her with nimble steps. He +had not been gone long before he saw, in the twilight, two figures +coming over the meadow. It was the King and Queen, who had perceived +from a distance the light shining in the old woman’s little house, and +were going to it. The count told them what wonderful things he had seen +by the well, and they did not doubt that it had been their lost +daughter. They walked onwards full of joy, and soon came to the little +house. The geese were sitting all round it, and had thrust their heads +under their wings and were sleeping, and not one of them moved. The +King and Queen looked in at the window, the old woman was sitting there +quite quietly spinning, nodding her head and never looking round. The +room was perfectly clean, as if the little mist men, who carry no dust +on their feet, lived there. Their daughter, however, they did not see. +They gazed at all this for a long time, at last they took heart, and +knocked softly at the window. The old woman appeared to have been +expecting them; she rose, and called out quite kindly, “Come in,—I know +you already.” When they had entered the room, the old woman said, “You +might have spared yourself the long walk, if you had not three years +ago unjustly driven away your child, who is so good and lovable. No +harm has come to her; for three years she has had to tend the geese; +with them she has learnt no evil, but has preserved her purity of +heart. You, however, have been sufficiently punished by the misery in +which you have lived.” Then she went to the chamber and called, “Come +out, my little daughter.” Thereupon the door opened, and the princess +stepped out in her silken garments, with her golden hair and her +shining eyes, and it was as if an angel from heaven had entered. + +She went up to her father and mother, fell on their necks and kissed +them; there was no help for it, they all had to weep for joy. The young +count stood near them, and when she perceived him she became as red in +the face as a moss-rose, she herself did not know why. The King said, +“My dear child, I have given away my kingdom, what shall I give thee?” +“She needs nothing,” said the old woman. “I give her the tears that she +has wept on your account; they are precious pearls, finer than those +that are found in the sea, and worth more than your whole kingdom, and +I give her my little house as payment for her services.” When the old +woman had said that, she disappeared from their sight. The walls +rattled a little, and when the King and Queen looked round, the little +house had changed into a splendid palace, a royal table had been +spread, and the servants were running hither and thither. + +The story goes still further, but my grandmother, who related it to me, +had partly lost her memory, and had forgotten the rest. I shall always +believe that the beautiful princess married the count, and that they +remained together in the palace, and lived there in all happiness so +long as God willed it. Whether the snow-white geese, which were kept +near the little hut, were verily young maidens (no one need take +offence,) whom the old woman had taken under her protection, and +whether they now received their human form again, and stayed as +handmaids to the young Queen, I do not exactly know, but I suspect it. +This much is certain, that the old woman was no witch, as people +thought, but a wise woman, who meant well. Very likely it was she who, +at the princess’s birth, gave her the gift of weeping pearls instead of +tears. That does not happen now-a-days, or else the poor would soon +become rich. + + + +180 Eve’s Various Children + +When Adam and Eve were driven out of Paradise, they were compelled to +build a house for themselves on unfruitful ground, and eat their bread +in the sweat of their brow. Adam dug up the land, and Eve span. Every +year Eve brought a child into the world; but the children were unlike +each other, some pretty, and some ugly. After a considerable time had +gone by, God sent an angel to them, to announce that he was coming to +inspect their household. Eve, delighted that the Lord should be so +gracious, cleaned her house diligently, decked it with flowers, and +strewed reeds on the floor. Then she brought in her children, but only +the beautiful ones. She washed and bathed them, combed their hair, put +clean raiment on them, and cautioned them to conduct themselves +decorously and modestly in the presence of the Lord. They were to bow +down before him civilly, hold out their hands, and to answer his +questions modestly and sensibly. The ugly children were, however, not +to let themselves be seen. One hid himself beneath the hay, another +under the roof, a third in the straw, the fourth in the stove, the +fifth in the cellar, the sixth under a tub, the seventh beneath the +wine-cask, the eighth under an old fur cloak, the ninth and tenth +beneath the cloth out of which she always made their clothes, and the +eleventh and twelfth under the leather out of which she cut their +shoes. She had scarcely got ready, before there was a knock at the +house-door. Adam looked through a chink, and saw that it was the Lord. +Adam opened the door respectfully, and the Heavenly Father entered. +There, in a row, stood the pretty children, and bowed before him, held +out their hands, and knelt down. The Lord, however, began to bless +them, laid his hands on the first, and said, “Thou shalt be a powerful +king;” and to the second, “Thou a prince,” to the third, “Thou a +count,” to the fourth, “Thou a knight,” to the fifth, “Thou a +nobleman,” to the sixth, “Thou a burgher,” to the seventh, “Thou a +merchant,” to the eighth, “Thou a learned man.” He bestowed upon them +also all his richest blessings. When Eve saw that the Lord was so mild +and gracious, she thought, “I will bring hither my ill-favoured +children also, it may be that he will bestow his blessing on them +likewise.” So she ran and brought them out of the hay, the straw, the +stove, and wherever else she had concealed them. Then came the whole +coarse, dirty, shabby, sooty band. The Lord smiled, looked at them all, +and said, “I will bless these also.” He laid his hands on the first, +and said to him, “Thou shalt be a peasant,” to the second, “Thou a +fisherman,” to the third, “Thou a smith,” to the fourth, “Thou a +tanner,” to the fifth, “Thou a weaver,” to the sixth, “Thou a +shoemaker,” to the seventh, “Thou a tailor,” to the eighth, “Thou a +potter,” to the ninth, “Thou a waggoner,” to the tenth, “Thou a +sailor,” to the eleventh, “Thou an errand-boy,” to the twelfth, “Thou a +scullion all the days of thy life.” + +When Eve had heard all this she said, “Lord, how unequally thou +dividest thy gifts! After all they are all of them my children, whom I +have brought into the world, thy favours should be given to all alike.” +But God answered, “Eve, thou dost not understand. It is right and +necessary that the entire world should be supplied from thy children; +if they were all princes and lords, who would grow corn, thresh it, +grind and bake it? Who would be blacksmiths, weavers, carpenters, +masons, labourers, tailors and seamstresses? Each shall have his own +place, so that one shall support the other, and all shall be fed like +the limbs of one body.” Then Eve answered, “Ah, Lord, forgive me, I was +too quick in speaking to thee. Have thy divine will with my children.” + + + +181 The Nix of the Mill-Pond + +There was once upon a time a miller who lived with his wife in great +contentment. They had money and land, and their prosperity increased +year by year more and more. But ill-luck comes like a thief in the +night, as their wealth had increased so did it again decrease, year by +year, and at last the miller could hardly call the mill in which he +lived, his own. He was in great distress, and when he lay down after +his day’s work, found no rest, but tossed about in his bed, full of +care. One morning he rose before daybreak and went out into the open +air, thinking that perhaps there his heart might become lighter. As he +was stepping over the mill-dam the first sunbeam was just breaking +forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond. He turned round and +perceived a beautiful woman, rising slowly out of the water. Her long +hair, which she was holding off her shoulders with her soft hands, fell +down on both sides, and covered her white body. He soon saw that she +was the Nix of the Mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether he +should run away or stay where he was. But the nix made her sweet voice +heard, called him by his name, and asked him why he was so sad? The +miller was at first struck dumb, but when he heard her speak so kindly, +he took heart, and told her how he had formerly lived in wealth and +happiness, but that now he was so poor that he did not know what to do. +“Be easy,” answered the nix, “I will make thee richer and happier than +thou hast ever been before, only thou must promise to give me the young +thing which has just been born in thy house.” “What else can that be,” +thought the miller, “but a young puppy or kitten?” and he promised her +what she desired. The nix descended into the water again, and he +hurried back to his mill, consoled and in good spirits. He had not yet +reached it, when the maid-servant came out of the house, and cried to +him to rejoice, for his wife had given birth to a little boy. The +miller stood as if struck by lightning; he saw very well that the +cunning nix had been aware of it, and had cheated him. Hanging his +head, he went up to his wife’s bedside and when she said, “Why dost +thou not rejoice over the fine boy?” he told her what had befallen him, +and what kind of a promise he had given to the nix. “Of what use to me +are riches and prosperity?” he added, “if I am to lose my child; but +what can I do?” Even the relations, who had come thither to wish them +joy, did not know what to say. In the meantime prosperity again +returned to the miller’s house. All that he undertook succeeded, it was +as if presses and coffers filled themselves of their own accord, and as +if money multiplied nightly in the cupboards. It was not long before +his wealth was greater than it had ever been before. But he could not +rejoice over it untroubled, for the bargain which he had made with the +nix tormented his soul. Whenever he passed the mill-pond, he feared she +might ascend and remind him of his debt. He never let the boy himself +go near the water. “Beware,” he said to him, “if thou dost but touch +the water, a hand will rise, seize thee, and draw thee down.” But as +year after year went by and the nix did not show herself again, the +miller began to feel at ease. The boy grew up to be a youth and was +apprenticed to a huntsman. When he had learnt everything, and had +become an excellent huntsman, the lord of the village took him into his +service. In the village lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who +pleased the huntsman, and when his master perceived that, he gave him a +little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and happily, and +loved each other with all their hearts. + +One day the huntsman was chasing a roe; and when the animal turned +aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued it and at last +shot it. He did not notice that he was now in the neighbourhood of the +dangerous mill-pond, and went, after he had disembowelled the stag, to +the water, in order to wash his blood-stained hands. Scarcely, however, +had he dipped them in than the nix ascended, smilingly wound her +dripping arms around him, and drew him quickly down under the waves, +which closed over him. When it was evening, and the huntsman did not +return home, his wife became alarmed. She went out to seek him, and as +he had often told her that he had to be on his guard against the snares +of the nix, and dared not venture into the neighbourhood of the +mill-pond, she already suspected what had happened. She hastened to the +water, and when she found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she +could no longer have any doubt of the misfortune. Lamenting her sorrow, +and wringing her hands, she called on her beloved by name, but in vain. +She hurried across to the other side of the pond, and called him anew; +she reviled the nix with harsh words, but no answer followed. The +surface of the water remained calm, only the crescent moon stared +steadily back at her. The poor woman did not leave the pond. With hasty +steps, she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, +sometimes in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes softly +sobbing. At last her strength came to an end, she sank down to the +ground and fell into a heavy sleep. Presently a dream took possession +of her. She was anxiously climbing upwards between great masses of +rock; thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her face, and +the wind tossed her long hair about. When she had reached the summit, +quite a different sight presented itself to her; the sky was blue, the +air soft, the ground sloped gently downwards, and on a green meadow, +gay with flowers of every colour, stood a pretty cottage. She went up +to it and opened the door; there sat an old woman with white hair, who +beckoned to her kindly. At that very moment, the poor woman awoke, day +had already dawned, and she at once resolved to act in accordance with +her dream. She laboriously climbed the mountain; everything was exactly +as she had seen it in the night. The old woman received her kindly, and +pointed out a chair on which she might sit. “Thou must have met with a +misfortune,” she said, “since thou hast sought out my lonely cottage.” +With tears, the woman related what had befallen her. “Be comforted,” +said the old woman, “I will help thee. Here is a golden comb for thee. +Tarry till the full moon has risen, then go to the mill-pond, seat +thyself on the shore, and comb thy long black hair with this comb. When +thou hast done, lay it down on the bank, and thou wilt see what will +happen.” The woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, +passed slowly. At last the shining disc appeared in the heavens, then +she went out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black hair +with the golden comb, and when she had finished, she laid it down at +the water’s edge. It was not long before there was a movement in the +depths, a wave rose, rolled to the shore, and bore the comb away with +it. In not more than the time necessary for the comb to sink to the +bottom, the surface of the water parted, and the head of the huntsman +arose. He did not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful glances. +At the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered the +man’s head. All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as before, and +nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it. Full of sorrow, the +woman went back, but again the dream showed her the cottage of the old +woman. Next morning she again set out and complained of her woes to the +wise woman. The old woman gave her a golden flute, and said, “Tarry +till the full moon comes again, then take this flute; play a beautiful +air on it, and when thou hast finished, lay it on the sand; then thou +wilt see what will happen.” The wife did as the old woman told her. No +sooner was the flute lying on the sand than there was a stirring in the +depths, and a wave rushed up and bore the flute away with it. +Immediately afterwards the water parted, and not only the head of the +man, but half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms +longingly towards her, but a second wave came up, covered him, and drew +him down again. “Alas, what does it profit me?” said the unhappy woman, +“that I should see my beloved, only to lose him again!” Despair filled +her heart anew, but the dream led her a third time to the house of the +old woman. She set out, and the wise woman gave her a golden +spinning-wheel, consoled her and said, “All is not yet fulfilled, tarry +until the time of the full moon, then take the spinning-wheel, seat +thyself on the shore, and spin the spool full, and when thou hast done +that, place the spinning-wheel near the water, and thou wilt see what +will happen.” The woman obeyed all she said exactly; as soon as the +full moon showed itself, she carried the golden spinning-wheel to the +shore, and span industriously until the flax came to an end, and the +spool was quite filled with the threads. No sooner was the wheel +standing on the shore than there was a more violent movement than +before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty wave rushed up, and bore +the wheel away with it. Immediately the head and the whole body of the +man rose into the air, in a water-spout. He quickly sprang to the +shore, caught his wife by the hand and fled. But they had scarcely gone +a very little distance, when the whole pond rose with a frightful roar, +and streamed out over the open country. The fugitives already saw death +before their eyes, when the woman in her terror implored the help of +the old woman, and in an instant they were transformed, she into a +toad, he into a frog. The flood which had overtaken them could not +destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried them far away. When +the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again, they +regained their human form, but neither knew where the other was; they +found themselves among strange people, who did not know their native +land. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. In order to +keep themselves alive, they were both obliged to tend sheep. For many +long years they drove their flocks through field and forest and were +full of sorrow and longing. When spring had once more broken forth on +the earth, they both went out one day with their flocks, and as chance +would have it, they drew near each other. They met in a valley, but did +not recognize each other; yet they rejoiced that they were no longer so +lonely. Henceforth they each day drove their flocks to the same place; +they did not speak much, but they felt comforted. One evening when the +full moon was shining in the sky, and the sheep were already at rest, +the shepherd pulled the flute out of his pocket, and played on it a +beautiful but sorrowful air. When he had finished he saw that the +shepherdess was weeping bitterly. “Why art thou weeping?” he asked. +“Alas,” answered she, “thus shone the full moon when I played this air +on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved rose out of +the water.” He looked at her, and it seemed as if a veil fell from his +eyes, and he recognized his dear wife, and when she looked at him, and +the moon shone in his face she knew him also. They embraced and kissed +each other, and no one need ask if they were happy. + + + +182 The Little Folks’ Presents + +A tailor and a goldsmith were travelling together, and one evening when +the sun had sunk behind the mountains, they heard the sound of distant +music, which became more and more distinct. It sounded strange, but so +pleasant that they forgot all their weariness and stepped quickly +onwards. The moon had already arisen when they reached a hill on which +they saw a crowd of little men and women, who had taken each other’s +hands, and were whirling round in the dance with the greatest pleasure +and delight. + +They sang to it most charmingly, and that was the music which the +travellers had heard. In the midst of them sat an old man who was +rather taller than the rest. He wore a parti-coloured coat, and his +iron-grey beard hung down over his breast. The two remained standing +full of astonishment, and watched the dance. The old man made a sign +that they should enter, and the little folks willingly opened their +circle. The goldsmith, who had a hump, and like all hunchbacks was +brave enough, stepped in; the tailor felt a little afraid at first, and +held back, but when he saw how merrily all was going, he plucked up his +courage, and followed. The circle closed again directly, and the little +folks went on singing and dancing with the wildest leaps. The old man, +however, took a large knife which hung to his girdle, whetted it, and +when it was sufficiently sharpened, he looked round at the strangers. +They were terrified, but they had not much time for reflection, for the +old man seized the goldsmith and with the greatest speed, shaved the +hair of his head clean off, and then the same thing happened to the +tailor. But their fear left them when, after he had finished his work, +the old man clapped them both on the shoulder in a friendly manner, as +much as to say, they had behaved well to let all that be done to them +willingly, and without any struggle. He pointed with his finger to a +heap of coals which lay at one side, and signified to the travellers by +his gestures that they were to fill their pockets with them. Both of +them obeyed, although they did not know of what use the coals would be +to them, and then they went on their way to seek a shelter for the +night. When they had got into the valley, the clock of the neighbouring +monastery struck twelve, and the song ceased. In a moment all had +vanished, and the hill lay in solitude in the moonlight. + +The two travellers found an inn, and covered themselves up on their +straw-beds with their coats, but in their weariness forgot to take the +coals out of them before doing so. A heavy weight on their limbs +awakened them earlier than usual. They felt in the pockets, and could +not believe their eyes when they saw that they were not filled with +coals, but with pure gold; happily, too, the hair of their heads and +beards was there again as thick as ever. + +They had now become rich folks, but the goldsmith, who, in accordance +with his greedy disposition, had filled his pockets better, was as rich +again as the tailor. A greedy man, even if he has much, still wishes to +have more, so the goldsmith proposed to the tailor that they should +wait another day, and go out again in the evening in order to bring +back still greater treasures from the old man on the hill. The tailor +refused, and said, “I have enough and am content; now I shall be a +master, and marry my dear object (for so he called his sweetheart), and +I am a happy man.” But he stayed another day to please him. In the +evening the goldsmith hung a couple of bags over his shoulders that he +might be able to stow away a great deal, and took the road to the hill. +He found, as on the night before, the little folks at their singing and +dancing, and the old man again shaved him clean, and signed to him to +take some coal away with him. He was not slow about sticking as much +into his bags as would go, went back quite delighted, and covered +himself over with his coat. “Even if the gold does weigh heavily,” said +he, “I will gladly bear that,” and at last he fell asleep with the +sweet anticipation of waking in the morning an enormously rich man. + +When he opened his eyes, he got up in haste to examine his pockets, but +how amazed he was when he drew nothing out of them but black coals, and +that howsoever often he put his hands in them. “The gold I got the +night before is still there for me,” thought he, and went and brought +it out, but how shocked he was when he saw that it likewise had again +turned into coal. He smote his forehead with his dusty black hand, and +then he felt that his whole head was bald and smooth, as was also the +place where his beard should have been. But his misfortunes were not +yet over; he now remarked for the first time that in addition to the +hump on his back, a second, just as large, had grown in front on his +breast. Then he recognized the punishment of his greediness, and began +to weep aloud. The good tailor, who was wakened by this, comforted the +unhappy fellow as well as he could, and said, “Thou hast been my +comrade in my travelling time; thou shalt stay with me and share in my +wealth.” He kept his word, but the poor goldsmith was obliged to carry +the two humps as long as he lived, and to cover his bald head with a +cap. + + + +183 The Giant and the Tailor + +A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing, took it +into his head to go abroad for a while, and look about the world. As +soon as he could manage it, he left his workshop, and wandered on his +way, over hill and dale, sometimes hither, sometimes thither, but ever +on and on. Once when he was out he perceived in the blue distance a +steep hill, and behind it a tower reaching to the clouds, which rose up +out of a wild dark forest. “Thunder and lightning,” cried the tailor, +“what is that?” and as he was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went +boldly towards it. But what made the tailor open his eyes and mouth +when he came near it, was to see that the tower had legs, and leapt in +one bound over the steep hill, and was now standing as an all powerful +giant before him. “What dost thou want here, thou tiny fly’s leg?” +cried the giant, with a voice as if it were thundering on every side. +The tailor whimpered, “I want just to look about and see if I can earn +a bit of bread for myself, in this forest.” “If that is what thou art +after,” said the giant, “thou mayst have a place with me.” “If it must +be, why not? What wages shall I receive?” “Thou shalt hear what wages +thou shalt have. Every year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when +it is leap-year, one more into the bargain. Does that suit thee?” “All +right,” replied the tailor, and thought, in his own mind, “a man must +cut his coat according to his cloth; I will try to get away as fast as +I can.” On this the giant said to him, “Go, little ragamuffin, and +fetch me a jug of water.” “Had I not better bring the well itself at +once, and the spring too?” asked the boaster, and went with the pitcher +to the water. “What! the well and the spring too,” growled the giant in +his beard, for he was rather clownish and stupid, and began to be +afraid. “That knave is not a fool, he has a wizard in his body. Be on +thy guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for thee.” When the tailor +had brought the water, the giant bade him go into the forest, and cut a +couple of blocks of wood and bring them back. “Why not the whole +forest, at once, with one stroke. The whole forest, young and old, with +all that is there, both rough and smooth?” asked the little tailor, and +went to cut the wood. “What! the whole forest, young and old, with all +that is there, both rough and smooth, and the well and its spring too,” +growled the credulous giant in his beard, and was still more terrified. +“The knave can do much more than bake apples, and has a wizard in his +body. Be on thy guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for thee!” When +the tailor had brought the wood, the giant commanded him to shoot two +or three wild boars for supper. “Why not rather a thousand at one shot, +and bring them all here?” inquired the ostentatious tailor. “What!” +cried the timid giant in great terror; “Let well alone to-night, and +lie down to rest.” + +The giant was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an eye all +night long for thinking what would be the best way to get rid of this +accursed sorcerer of a servant. Time brings counsel. Next morning the +giant and the tailor went to a marsh, round which stood a number of +willow-trees. Then said the giant, “Hark thee, tailor, seat thyself on +one of the willow-branches, I long of all things to see if thou art big +enough to bend it down.” All at once the tailor was sitting on it, +holding his breath, and making himself so heavy that the bough bent +down. When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it hurried him +(for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his pocket) so high into +the air that he never was seen again, and this to the great delight of +the giant. If the tailor has not fallen down again, he must be hovering +about in the air. + + + +184 The Nail + +A merchant had done good business at the fair; he had sold his wares, +and lined his money-bags with gold and silver. Then he wanted to travel +homewards, and be in his own house before nightfall. So he packed his +trunk with the money on his horse, and rode away. + +At noon he rested in a town, and when he wanted to go farther the +stable-boy brought out his horse and said, “A nail is wanting, sir, in +the shoe of its left hind foot.” “Let it be wanting,” answered the +merchant; “the shoe will certainly stay on for the six miles I have +still to go. I am in a hurry.” + +In the afternoon, when he once more alighted and had his horse fed, the +stable-boy went into the room to him and said, “Sir, a shoe is missing +from your horse’s left hind foot. Shall I take him to the blacksmith?” +“Let it still be wanting,” answered the man; “the horse can very well +hold out for the couple of miles which remain. I am in haste.” + +He rode forth, but before long the horse began to limp. It had not +limped long before it began to stumble, and it had not stumbled long +before it fell down and broke its leg. The merchant was forced to leave +the horse where it was, and unbuckle the trunk, take it on his back, +and go home on foot. And there he did not arrive until quite late at +night. “And that unlucky nail,” said he to himself, “has caused all +this disaster.” + +Hasten slowly. + + + +185 The Poor Boy in the Grave + +There was once a poor shepherd-boy whose father and mother were dead, +and he was placed by the authorities in the house of a rich man, who +was to feed him and bring him up. The man and his wife, had however, +bad hearts, and were greedy and anxious about their riches, and vexed +whenever any one put a morsel of their bread in his mouth. The poor +young fellow might do what he liked, he got little to eat, but only so +many blows the more. + +One day he had to watch a hen and her chickens, but she ran through a +quick-set hedge with them, and a hawk darted down instantly, and +carried her off through the air. The boy called, “Thief! thief! +rascal!” with all the strength of his body. But what good did that do? +The hawk did not bring its prey back again. The man heard the noise, +and ran to the spot, and as soon as he saw that his hen was gone, he +fell in a rage, and gave the boy such a beating that he could not stir +for two days. Then he had to take care of the chickens without the hen, +but now his difficulty was greater, for one ran here and the other +there. He thought he was doing a very wise thing when he tied them all +together with a string, because then the hawk would not be able to +steal any of them away from him. But he was very much mistaken. After +two days, worn out with running about and hunger, he fell asleep; the +bird of prey came, and seized one of the chickens, and as the others +were tied fast to it, it carried them all off together, perched itself +on a tree, and devoured them. The farmer was just coming home, and when +he saw the misfortune, he got angry and beat the boy so unmercifully +that he was forced to lie in bed for several days. + +When he was on his legs again, the farmer said to him, “Thou art too +stupid for me, I cannot make a herdsman of thee, thou must go as +errand-boy.” Then he sent him to the judge, to whom he was to carry a +basketful of grapes, and he gave him a letter as well. On the way +hunger and thirst tormented the unhappy boy so violently that he ate +two of the bunches of grapes. He took the basket to the judge, but when +the judge had read the letter, and counted the bunches he said, “Two +clusters are wanting.” The boy confessed quite honestly that, driven by +hunger and thirst, he had devoured the two which were wanting. The +judge wrote a letter to the farmer, and asked for the same number of +grapes again. These also the boy had to take to him with a letter. As +he again was so extremely hungry and thirsty, he could not help it, and +again ate two bunches. But first he took the letter out of the basket, +put it under a stone and seated himself thereon in order that the +letter might not see and betray him. The judge, however, again made him +give an explanation about the missing bunches. “Ah,” said the boy, “how +have you learnt that? The letter could not know about it, for I put it +under a stone before I did it.” The judge could not help laughing at +the boy’s simplicity, and sent the man a letter wherein he cautioned +him to keep the poor boy better, and not let him want for meat and +drink, and also that he was to teach him what was right and what was +wrong. + +“I will soon show thee the difference,” said the hard man, “if thou +wilt eat, thou must work, and if thou dost anything wrong, thou shalt +be quite sufficiently taught by blows.” + +The next day he set him a hard task. He was to chop two bundles of +straw for food for the horses, and then the man threatened: “In five +hours,” said he, “I shall be back again, and if the straw is not cut to +chaff by that time, I will beat thee until thou canst not move a limb.” +The farmer went with his wife, the man-servant and the girl, to the +yearly fair, and left nothing behind for the boy but a small bit of +bread. The boy seated himself on the bench, and began to work with all +his might. As he got warm over it he put his little coat off and threw +it on the straw. In his terror lest he should not get done in time he +kept constantly cutting, and in his haste, without noticing it, he +chopped his little coat as well as the straw. He became aware of the +misfortune too late; there was no repairing it. “Ah,” cried he, “now +all is over with me! The wicked man did not threaten me for nothing; if +he comes back and sees what I have done, he will kill me. Rather than +that I will take my own life.” + +The boy had once heard the farmer’s wife say, “I have a pot with poison +in it under my bed.” She, however, had only said that to keep away +greedy people, for there was honey in it. The boy crept under the bed, +brought out the pot, and ate all that was in it. “I do not know,” said +he, “folks say death is bitter, but it tastes very sweet to me. It is +no wonder that the farmer’s wife has so often longed for death.” He +seated himself in a little chair, and was prepared to die. But instead +of becoming weaker he felt himself strengthened by the nourishing food. +“It cannot have been poison,” thought he, “but the farmer once said +there was a small bottle of poison for flies in the box in which he +keeps his clothes; that, no doubt, will be the true poison, and bring +death to me.” It was, however, no poison for flies, but Hungarian wine. +The boy got out the bottle, and emptied it. “This death tastes sweet +too,” said he, but shortly after when the wine began to mount into his +brain and stupefy him, he thought his end was drawing near. “I feel +that I must die,” said he, “I will go away to the churchyard, and seek +a grave.” He staggered out, reached the churchyard, and laid himself in +a newly dug grave. He lost his senses more and more. In the +neighbourhood was an inn where a wedding was being kept; when he heard +the music, he fancied he was already in Paradise, until at length he +lost all consciousness. The poor boy never awoke again; the heat of the +strong wine and the cold night-dew deprived him of life, and he +remained in the grave in which he had laid himself. + +When the farmer heard the news of the boy’s death he was terrified, and +afraid of being brought to justice indeed, his distress took such a +powerful hold of him that he fell fainting to the ground. His wife, who +was standing on the hearth with a pan of hot fat, ran to him to help +him. But the flames darted against the pan, the whole house caught +fire, in a few hours it lay in ashes, and the rest of the years they +had to live they passed in poverty and misery, tormented by the pangs +of conscience. + + + +186 The True Sweethearts + +There was once on a time a girl who was young and beautiful, but she +had lost her mother when she was quite a child, and her step-mother did +all she could to make the girl’s life wretched. Whenever this woman +gave her anything to do, she worked at it indefatigably, and did +everything that lay in her power. Still she could not touch the heart +of the wicked woman by that; she was never satisfied; it was never +enough. The harder the girl worked, the more work was put upon her, and +all that the woman thought of was how to weigh her down with still +heavier burdens, and make her life still more miserable. + +One day she said to her, “Here are twelve pounds of feathers which thou +must pick, and if they are not done this evening, thou mayst expect a +good beating. Dost thou imagine thou art to idle away the whole day?” +The poor girl sat down to the work, but tears ran down her cheeks as +she did so, for she saw plainly enough that it was quite impossible to +finish the work in one day. Whenever she had a little heap of feathers +lying before her, and she sighed or smote her hands together in her +anguish, they flew away, and she had to pick them out again, and begin +her work anew. Then she put her elbows on the table, laid her face in +her two hands, and cried, “Is there no one, then, on God’s earth to +have pity on me?” Then she heard a low voice which said, “Be comforted, +my child, I have come to help thee.” The maiden looked up, and an old +woman was by her side. She took the girl kindly by the hand, and said, +“Only tell me what is troubling thee.” As she spoke so kindly, the girl +told her of her miserable life, and how one burden after another was +laid upon her, and she never could get to the end of the work which was +given to her. “If I have not done these feathers by this evening, my +step-mother will beat me; she has threatened she will, and I know she +keeps her word.” Her tears began to flow again, but the good old woman +said, “Do not be afraid, my child; rest a while, and in the meantime I +will look to thy work.” The girl lay down on her bed, and soon fell +asleep. The old woman seated herself at the table with the feathers, +and how they did fly off the quills, which she scarcely touched with +her withered hands! The twelve pounds were soon finished, and when the +girl awoke, great snow-white heaps were lying, piled up, and everything +in the room was neatly cleared away, but the old woman had vanished. +The maiden thanked God, and sat still till evening came, when the +step-mother came in and marvelled to see the work completed. “Just +look, you awkward creature,” said she, “what can be done when people +are industrious; and why couldst thou not set about something else? +There thou sittest with thy hands crossed.” When she went out she said, +“The creature is worth more than her salt. I must give her some work +that is still harder.” + +Next morning she called the girl, and said, “There is a spoon for thee; +with that thou must empty out for me the great pond which is beside the +garden, and if it is not done by night, thou knowest what will happen.” +The girl took the spoon, and saw that it was full of holes; but even if +it had not been, she never could have emptied the pond with it. She set +to work at once, knelt down by the water, into which her tears were +falling, and began to empty it. But the good old woman appeared again, +and when she learnt the cause of her grief, she said, “Be of good +cheer, my child. Go into the thicket and lie down and sleep; I will +soon do thy work.” As soon as the old woman was alone, she barely +touched the pond, and a vapour rose up on high from the water, and +mingled itself with the clouds. Gradually the pond was emptied, and +when the maiden awoke before sunset and came thither, she saw nothing +but the fishes which were struggling in the mud. She went to her +step-mother, and showed her that the work was done. “It ought to have +been done long before this,” said she, and grew white with anger, but +she meditated something new. + +On the third morning she said to the girl, “Thou must build me a castle +on the plain there, and it must be ready by the evening.” The maiden +was dismayed, and said, “How can I complete such a great work?” “I will +endure no opposition,” screamed the step-mother. “If thou canst empty a +pond with a spoon that is full of holes, thou canst build a castle too. +I will take possession of it this very day, and if anything is wanting, +even if it be the most trifling thing in the kitchen or cellar, thou +knowest what lies before thee!” She drove the girl out, and when she +entered the valley, the rocks were there, piled up one above the other, +and all her strength would not have enabled her even to move the very +smallest of them. She sat down and wept, and still she hoped the old +woman would help her. The old woman was not long in coming; she +comforted her and said, “Lie down there in the shade and sleep, and I +will soon build the castle for thee. If it would be a pleasure to thee, +thou canst live in it thyself.” When the maiden had gone away, the old +woman touched the gray rocks. They began to rise, and immediately moved +together as if giants had built the walls; and on these the building +arose, and it seemed as if countless hands were working invisibly, and +placing one stone upon another. There was a dull heavy noise from the +ground; pillars arose of their own accord on high, and placed +themselves in order near each other. The tiles laid themselves in order +on the roof, and when noon-day came, the great weather-cock was already +turning itself on the summit of the tower, like a golden figure of the +Virgin with fluttering garments. The inside of the castle was being +finished while evening was drawing near. How the old woman managed it, +I know not; but the walls of the rooms were hung with silk and velvet, +embroidered chairs were there, and richly ornamented arm-chairs by +marble tables; crystal chandeliers hung down from the ceilings, and +mirrored themselves in the smooth pavement; green parrots were there in +gilt cages, and so were strange birds which sang most beautifully, and +there was on all sides as much magnificence as if a king were going to +live there. The sun was just setting when the girl awoke, and the +brightness of a thousand lights flashed in her face. She hurried to the +castle, and entered by the open door. The steps were spread with red +cloth, and the golden balustrade beset with flowering trees. When she +saw the splendour of the apartment, she stood as if turned to stone. +Who knows how long she might have stood there if she had not remembered +the step-mother? “Alas!” she said to herself, “if she could but be +satisfied at last, and would give up making my life a misery to me.” +The girl went and told her that the castle was ready. “I will move into +it at once,” said she, and rose from her seat. When they entered the +castle, she was forced to hold her hand before her eyes, the brilliancy +of everything was so dazzling. “Thou seest,” said she to the girl, “how +easy it has been for thee to do this; I ought to have given thee +something harder.” She went through all the rooms, and examined every +corner to see if anything was wanting or defective; but she could +discover nothing. “Now we will go down below,” said she, looking at the +girl with malicious eyes. “The kitchen and the cellar still have to be +examined, and if thou hast forgotten anything thou shalt not escape thy +punishment.” But the fire was burning on the hearth, and the meat was +cooking in the pans, the tongs and shovel were leaning against the +wall, and the shining brazen utensils all arranged in sight. Nothing +was wanting, not even a coal-box and water-pail. “Which is the way to +the cellar?” she cried. “If that is not abundantly filled, it shall go +ill with thee.” She herself raised up the trap-door and descended; but +she had hardly made two steps before the heavy trap-door which was only +laid back, fell down. The girl heard a scream, lifted up the door very +quickly to go to her aid, but she had fallen down, and the girl found +her lying lifeless at the bottom. + +And now the magnificent castle belonged to the girl alone. She at first +did not know how to reconcile herself to her good fortune. Beautiful +dresses were hanging in the wardrobes, the chests were filled with gold +or silver, or with pearls and jewels, and she never felt a desire that +she was not able to gratify. And soon the fame of the beauty and riches +of the maiden went over all the world. Wooers presented themselves +daily, but none pleased her. At length the son of the King came and he +knew how to touch her heart, and she betrothed herself to him. In the +garden of the castle was a lime-tree, under which they were one day +sitting together, when he said to her, “I will go home and obtain my +father’s consent to our marriage. I entreat thee to wait for me here +under this lime-tree, I shall be back with thee in a few hours.” The +maiden kissed him on his left cheek, and said, “Keep true to me, and +never let any one else kiss thee on this cheek. I will wait here under +the lime-tree until thou returnest.” + +The maid stayed beneath the lime-tree until sunset, but he did not +return. She sat three days from morning till evening, waiting for him, +but in vain. As he still was not there by the fourth day, she said, +“Some accident has assuredly befallen him. I will go out and seek him, +and will not come back until I have found him.” She packed up three of +her most beautiful dresses, one embroidered with bright stars, the +second with silver moons, the third with golden suns, tied up a handful +of jewels in her handkerchief, and set out. She inquired everywhere for +her betrothed, but no one had seen him; no one knew anything about him. +Far and wide did she wander through the world, but she found him not. +At last she hired herself to a farmer as a cow-herd, and buried her +dresses and jewels beneath a stone. + +And now she lived as a herdswoman, guarded her herd, and was very sad +and full of longing for her beloved one; she had a little calf which +she taught to know her, and fed it out of her own hand, and when she +said, + +“Little calf, little calf, kneel by my side, +And do not forget thy shepherd-maid, +As the prince forgot his betrothed bride, +Who waited for him ’neath the lime-tree’s shade.” + + +the little calf knelt down, and she stroked it. + +And when she had lived for a couple of years alone and full of grief, a +report was spread over all the land that the King’s daughter was about +to celebrate her marriage. The road to the town passed through the +village where the maiden was living, and it came to pass that once when +the maiden was driving out her herd, her bridegroom travelled by. He +was sitting proudly on his horse, and never looked round, but when she +saw him she recognized her beloved, and it was just as if a sharp knife +had pierced her heart. “Alas!” said she, “I believed him true to me, +but he has forgotten me.” + +Next day he again came along the road. When he was near her she said to +the little calf, + +“Little calf, little calf, kneel by my side, +And do not forget thy shepherd-maid, +As the prince forgot his betrothed bride, +Who waited for him ’neath the lime-tree’s shade.” + + +When he was aware of the voice, he looked down and reined in his horse. +He looked into the herd’s face, and then put his hands before his eyes +as if he were trying to remember something, but he soon rode onwards +and was out of sight. “Alas!” said she, “he no longer knows me,” and +her grief was ever greater. + +Soon after this a great festival three days long was to be held at the +King’s court, and the whole country was invited to it. + +“Now will I try my last chance,” thought the maiden, and when evening +came she went to the stone under which she had buried her treasures. +She took out the dress with the golden suns, put it on, and adorned +herself with the jewels. She let down her hair, which she had concealed +under a handkerchief, and it fell down in long curls about her, and +thus she went into the town, and in the darkness was observed by no +one. When she entered the brightly-lighted hall, every one started back +in amazement, but no one knew who she was. The King’s son went to meet +her, but he did not recognize her. He led her out to dance, and was so +enchanted with her beauty, that he thought no more of the other bride. +When the feast was over, she vanished in the crowd, and hastened before +daybreak to the village, where she once more put on her herd’s dress. + +Next evening she took out the dress with the silver moons, and put a +half-moon made of precious stones in her hair. When she appeared at the +festival, all eyes were turned upon her, but the King’s son hastened to +meet her, and filled with love for her, danced with her alone, and no +longer so much as glanced at anyone else. Before she went away she was +forced to promise him to come again to the festival on the last +evening. + +When she appeared for the third time, she wore the star-dress which +sparkled at every step she took, and her hair-ribbon and girdle were +starred with jewels. The prince had already been waiting for her for a +long time, and forced his way up to her. “Do but tell who thou art,” +said he, “I feel just as if I had already known thee a long time.” +“Dost thou not know what I did when thou leftest me?” Then she stepped +up to him, and kissed him on his left cheek, and in a moment it was as +if scales fell from his eyes, and he recognized the true bride. “Come,” +said he to her, “here I stay no longer,” gave her his hand, and led her +down to the carriage. The horses hurried away to the magic castle as if +the wind had been harnessed to the carriage. The illuminated windows +already shone in the distance. When they drove past the lime-tree, +countless glow-worms were swarming about it. It shook its branches, and +sent forth their fragrance. On the steps flowers were blooming, and the +room echoed with the song of strange birds, but in the hall the entire +court was assembled, and the priest was waiting to marry the bridegroom +to the true bride. + + + +187 The Hare and the Hedgehog + +This story, my dear young folks, seems to be false, but it really is +true, for my grandfather, from whom I have it, used always, when +relating it, to say complacently, “It must be true, my son, or else no +one could tell it to you.” The story is as follows. One Sunday morning +about harvest time, just as the buckwheat was in bloom, the sun was +shining brightly in heaven, the east wind was blowing warmly over the +stubble-fields, the larks were singing in the air, the bees buzzing +among the buckwheat, the people were all going in their Sunday clothes +to church, and all creatures were happy, and the hedgehog was happy +too. + +The hedgehog, however, was standing by his door with his arms akimbo, +enjoying the morning breezes, and slowly trilling a little song to +himself, which was neither better nor worse than the songs which +hedgehogs are in the habit of singing on a blessed Sunday morning. +Whilst he was thus singing half aloud to himself, it suddenly occurred +to him that, while his wife was washing and drying the children, he +might very well take a walk into the field, and see how his turnips +were going on. The turnips were, in fact, close beside his house, and +he and his family were accustomed to eat them, for which reason he +looked upon them as his own. No sooner said than done. The hedgehog +shut the house-door behind him, and took the path to the field. He had +not gone very far from home, and was just turning round the sloe-bush +which stands there outside the field, to go up into the turnip-field, +when he observed the hare who had gone out on business of the same +kind, namely, to visit his cabbages. When the hedgehog caught sight of +the hare, he bade him a friendly good morning. But the hare, who was in +his own way a distinguished gentleman, and frightfully haughty, did not +return the hedgehog’s greeting, but said to him, assuming at the same +time a very contemptuous manner, “How do you happen to be running about +here in the field so early in the morning?” “I am taking a walk,” said +the hedgehog. “A walk!” said the hare, with a smile. “It seems to me +that you might use your legs for a better purpose.” This answer made +the hedgehog furiously angry, for he can bear anything but an attack on +his legs, just because they are crooked by nature. So now the hedgehog +said to the hare, “You seem to imagine that you can do more with your +legs than I with mine.” “That is just what I do think,” said the hare. +“That can be put to the test,” said the hedgehog. “I wager that if we +run a race, I will outstrip you.” “That is ridiculous! You with your +short legs!” said the hare, “but for my part I am willing, if you have +such a monstrous fancy for it. What shall we wager?” “A golden +louis-d’or and a bottle of brandy,” said the hedgehog. “Done,” said the +hare. “Shake hands on it, and then we may as well come off at once.” +“Nay,” said the hedgehog, “there is no such great hurry! I am still +fasting, I will go home first, and have a little breakfast. In +half-an-hour I will be back again at this place.” + +Hereupon the hedgehog departed, for the hare was quite satisfied with +this. On his way the hedgehog thought to himself, “The hare relies on +his long legs, but I will contrive to get the better of him. He may be +a great man, but he is a very silly fellow, and he shall pay for what +he has said.” So when the hedgehog reached home, he said to his wife, +“Wife, dress thyself quickly, thou must go out to the field with me.” +“What is going on, then?” said his wife. “I have made a wager with the +hare, for a gold louis-d’or and a bottle of brandy. I am to run a race +with him, and thou must be present.” “Good heavens, husband,” the wife +now cried, “art thou not right in thy mind, hast thou completely lost +thy wits? What can make thee want to run a race with the hare?” “Hold +thy tongue, woman,” said the hedgehog, “that is my affair. Don’t begin +to discuss things which are matters for men. Be off, dress thyself, and +come with me.” What could the hedgehog’s wife do? She was forced to +obey him, whether she liked it or not. + +So when they had set out on their way together, the hedgehog said to +his wife, “Now pay attention to what I am going to say. Look you, I +will make the long field our race-course. The hare shall run in one +furrow, and I in another, and we will begin to run from the top. Now +all that thou hast to do is to place thyself here below in the furrow, +and when the hare arrives at the end of the furrow, on the other side +of thee, thou must cry out to him, ‘I am here already!’” + +Then they reached the field, and the hedgehog showed his wife her +place, and then walked up the field. When he reached the top, the hare +was already there. “Shall we start?” said the hare. “Certainly,” said +the hedgehog. “Then both at once.” So saying, each placed himself in +his own furrow. The hare counted, “Once, twice, thrice, and away!” and +went off like a whirlwind down the field. The hedgehog, however, only +ran about three paces, and then he stooped down in the furrow, and +stayed quietly where he was. When the hare therefore arrived in full +career at the lower end of the field, the hedgehog’s wife met him with +the cry, “I am here already!” The hare was shocked and wondered not a +little, he thought no other than that it was the hedgehog himself who +was calling to him, for the hedgehog’s wife looked just like her +husband. The hare, however, thought to himself, “That has not been done +fairly,” and cried, “It must be run again, let us have it again.” And +once more he went off like the wind in a storm, so that he seemed to +fly. But the hedgehog’s wife stayed quietly in her place. So when the +hare reached the top of the field, the hedgehog himself cried out to +him, “I am here already.” The hare, however, quite beside himself with +anger, cried, “It must be run again, we must have it again.” “All +right,” answered the hedgehog, “for my part we’ll run as often as you +choose.” So the hare ran seventy-three times more, and the hedgehog +always held out against him, and every time the hare reached either the +top or the bottom, either the hedgehog or his wife said, “I am here +already.” + +At the seventy-fourth time, however, the hare could no longer reach the +end. In the middle of the field he fell to the ground, blood streamed +out of his mouth, and he lay dead on the spot. But the hedgehog took +the louis-d’or which he had won and the bottle of brandy, called his +wife out of the furrow, and both went home together in great delight, +and if they are not dead, they are living there still. + +This is how it happened that the hedgehog made the hare run races with +him on the Buxtehuder heath till he died, and since that time no hare +has ever had any fancy for running races with a Buxtehuder hedgehog. + +The moral of this story, however, is, firstly, that no one, however +great he may be, should permit himself to jest at any one beneath him, +even if he be only a hedgehog. And, secondly, it teaches, that when a +man marries, he should take a wife in his own position, who looks just +as he himself looks. So whosoever is a hedgehog let him see to it that +his wife is a hedgehog also, and so forth. + + + +188 The Spindle, The Shuttle, and the Needle + +There was once a girl whose father and mother died while she was still +a little child. All alone, in a small house at the end of the village, +dwelt her godmother, who supported herself by spinning, weaving, and +sewing. The old woman took the forlorn child to live with her, kept her +to her work, and educated her in all that is good. When the girl was +fifteen years old, the old woman became ill, called the child to her +bedside, and said, “Dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near. I leave +thee the little house, which will protect thee from wind and weather, +and my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which thou canst earn thy +bread.” Then she laid her hands on the girl’s head, blessed her, and +said, “Only preserve the love of God in thy heart, and all will go well +with thee.” Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was laid in the +earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping bitterly, and paid her +the last mark of respect. And now the maiden lived quite alone in the +little house, and was industrious, and span, wove, and sewed, and the +blessing of the good old woman was on all that she did. It seemed as if +the flax in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove +a piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found a +buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of nothing, +and even had something to share with others. + +About this time, the son of the King was travelling about the country +looking for a bride. He was not to choose a poor one, and did not want +to have a rich one. So he said, “She shall be my wife who is the +poorest, and at the same time the richest.” When he came to the village +where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did wherever he went, who +was the richest and also the poorest girl in the place? They first +named the richest; the poorest, they said, was the girl who lived in +the small house quite at the end of the village. The rich girl was +sitting in all her splendour before the door of her house, and when the +prince approached her, she got up, went to meet him, and made him a low +curtsey. He looked at her, said nothing, and rode on. When he came to +the house of the poor girl, she was not standing at the door, but +sitting in her little room. He stopped his horse, and saw through the +window, on which the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her +spinning-wheel, busily spinning. She looked up, and when she saw that +the prince was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes +fall, and went on spinning. I do not know whether, just at that moment, +the thread was quite even; but she went on spinning until the King’s +son had ridden away again. Then she went to the window, opened it, and +said, “It is so warm in this room!” but she still looked after him as +long as she could distinguish the white feathers in his hat. Then she +sat down to work again in her own room and went on with her spinning, +and a saying which the old woman had often repeated when she was +sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these words to +herself,— + +“Spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away, +And here to my house bring the wooer, I pray.” + + +And what do you think happened? The spindle sprang out of her hand in +an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her astonishment, she got +up and looked after it, she saw that it was dancing out merrily into +the open country, and drawing a shining golden thread after it. Before +long, it had entirely vanished from her sight. As she had now no +spindle, the girl took the weaver’s shuttle in her hand, sat down to +her loom, and began to weave. + +The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as the +thread came to an end, reached the prince. “What do I see?” he cried; +“the spindle certainly wants to show me the way!” turned his horse +about, and rode back with the golden thread. The girl was, however, +sitting at her work singing, + +“Shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day, +And guide the wooer to me, I pray.” + + +Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door. +Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which was +more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld. Lilies and +roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden ground in the +centre green branches ascended, under which bounded hares and rabbits, +stags and deer stretched their heads in between them, brightly-coloured +birds were sitting in the branches above; they lacked nothing but the +gift of song. The shuttle leapt hither and thither, and everything +seemed to grow of its own accord. + +As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She held the +needle in her hand and sang, + +“Needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine, +Prepare for a wooer this house of mine.” + + +Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere about the +room as quick as lightning. It was just as if invisible spirits were +working; they covered tables and benches with green cloth in an +instant, and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken +curtains. Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the maiden +saw through the window the white feathers of the prince, whom the +spindle had brought thither by the golden thread. He alighted, stepped +over the carpet into the house, and when he entered the room, there +stood the maiden in her poor garments, but she shone out from within +them like a rose surrounded by leaves. “Thou art the poorest and also +the richest,” said he to her. “Come with me, thou shalt be my bride.” +She did not speak, but she gave him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, +led her forth, lifted her on to his horse, and took her to the royal +castle, where the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings. The +spindle, shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber, +and held in great honour. + + + +189 The Peasant and the Devil + +There was once on a time a far-sighted, crafty peasant whose tricks +were much talked about. The best story is, however, how he once got +hold of the Devil, and made a fool of him. The peasant had one day been +working in his field, and as twilight had set in, was making ready for +the journey home, when he saw a heap of burning coals in the middle of +his field, and when, full of astonishment, he went up to it, a little +black devil was sitting on the live coals. “Thou dost indeed sit upon a +treasure!” said the peasant. “Yes, in truth,” replied the Devil, “on a +treasure which contains more gold and silver than thou hast ever seen +in thy life!” “The treasure lies in my field and belongs to me,” said +the peasant. “It is thine,” answered the Devil, “if thou wilt for two +years give me the half of everything thy field produces. Money I have +enough of, but I have a desire for the fruits of the earth.” The +peasant agreed to the bargain. “In order, however, that no dispute may +arise about the division,” said he, “everything that is above ground +shall belong to thee, and what is under the earth to me.” The Devil was +quite satisfied with that, but the cunning peasant had sown turnips. + +Now when the time for harvest came, the Devil appeared and wanted to +take away his crop; but he found nothing but the yellow withered +leaves, while the peasant, full of delight, was digging up his turnips. +“Thou hast had the best of it for once,” said the Devil, “but the next +time that won’t do. What grows above ground shall be thine, and what is +under it, mine.” “I am willing,” replied the peasant; but when the time +came to sow, he did not again sow turnips, but wheat. The grain became +ripe, and the peasant went into the field and cut the full stalks down +to the ground. When the Devil came, he found nothing but the stubble, +and went away in a fury down into a cleft in the rocks. “That is the +way to cheat the Devil,” said the peasant, and went and fetched away +the treasure. + + + +190 The Crumbs on the Table + +A countryman one day said to his little puppies, “Come into the parlour +and enjoy yourselves, and pick up the bread-crumbs on the table; your +mistress has gone out to pay some visits.” Then the little dogs said, +“No, no, we will not go. If the mistress gets to know it, she will beat +us.” The countryman said, “She will know nothing about it. Do come; +after all, she never gives you anything good.” Then the little dogs +again said, “Nay, nay, we must let it alone; we must not go.” But the +countryman let them have no peace until at last they went, and got on +the table, and ate up the bread-crumbs with all their might. But at +that very moment the mistress came, and seized the stick in great +haste, and beat them and treated them very hardly. And when they were +outside the house, the little dogs said to the countryman, “Dost, dost, +dost, dost, dost thou see?” Then the countryman laughed and said, +“Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t, you expect it?” So they just had to run away. + + + +191 The Sea-Hare + +There was once upon a time a princess, who, high under the battlements +in her castle, had an apartment with twelve windows, which looked out +in every possible direction, and when she climbed up to it and looked +around her, she could inspect her whole kingdom. When she looked out of +the first, her sight was more keen than that of any other human being; +from the second she could see still better, from the third more +distinctly still, and so it went on, until the twelfth, from which she +saw everything above the earth and under the earth, and nothing at all +could be kept secret from her. Moreover, as she was haughty, and would +be subject to no one, but wished to keep the dominion for herself +alone, she caused it to be proclaimed that no one should ever be her +husband who could not conceal himself from her so effectually, that it +should be quite impossible for her to find him. He who tried this, +however, and was discovered by her, was to have his head struck off, +and stuck on a post. Ninety-seven posts with the heads of dead men were +already standing before the castle, and no one had come forward for a +long time. The princess was delighted, and thought to herself, “Now I +shall be free as long as I live.” Then three brothers appeared before +her, and announced to her that they were desirous of trying their luck. +The eldest believed he would be quite safe if he crept into a lime-pit, +but she saw him from the first window, made him come out, and had his +head cut off. The second crept into the cellar of the palace, but she +perceived him also from the first window, and his fate was sealed. His +head was placed on the nine and ninetieth post. Then the youngest came +to her and entreated her to give him a day for consideration, and also +to be so gracious as to overlook it if she should happen to discover +him twice, but if he failed the third time, he would look on his life +as over. As he was so handsome, and begged so earnestly, she said, +“Yes, I will grant thee that, but thou wilt not succeed.” + +Next day he meditated for a long time how he should hide himself, but +all in vain. Then he seized his gun and went out hunting. He saw a +raven, took a good aim at him, and was just going to fire, when the +bird cried, “Don’t shoot; I will make it worth thy while not.” He put +his gun down, went on, and came to a lake where he surprised a large +fish which had come up from the depths below to the surface of the +water. When he had aimed at it, the fish cried, “Don’t shoot, and I +will make it worth thy while.” He allowed it to dive down again, went +onwards, and met a fox which was lame. He fired and missed it, and the +fox cried, “You had much better come here and draw the thorn out of my +foot for me.” He did this; but then he wanted to kill the fox and skin +it, the fox said, “Stop, and I will make it worth thy while.” The youth +let him go, and then as it was evening, returned home. + +Next day he was to hide himself; but howsoever much he puzzled his +brains over it, he did not know where. He went into the forest to the +raven and said, “I let thee live on, so now tell me where I am to hide +myself, so that the King’s daughter shall not see me.” The raven hung +his head and thought it over for a longtime. At length he croaked, “I +have it.” He fetched an egg out of his nest, cut it into two parts, and +shut the youth inside it; then made it whole again, and seated himself +on it. When the King’s daughter went to the first window she could not +discover him, nor could she from the others, and she began to be +uneasy, but from the eleventh she saw him. She ordered the raven to be +shot, and the egg to be brought and broken, and the youth was forced to +come out. She said, “For once thou art excused, but if thou dost not do +better than this, thou art lost!” + +Next day he went to the lake, called the fish to him and said, “I +suffered thee to live, now tell me where to hide myself so that the +King’s daughter may not see me.” The fish thought for a while, and at +last cried, “I have it! I will shut thee up in my stomach.” He +swallowed him, and went down to the bottom of the lake. The King’s +daughter looked through her windows, and even from the eleventh did not +see him, and was alarmed; but at length from the twelfth she saw him. +She ordered the fish to be caught and killed, and then the youth +appeared. Every one can imagine what a state of mind he was in. She +said, “Twice thou art forgiven, but be sure that thy head will be set +on the hundredth post.” + +On the last day, he went with a heavy heart into the country, and met +the fox. “Thou knowest how to find all kinds of hiding-places,” said +he; “I let thee live, now advise me where I shall hide myself so that +the King’s daughter shall not discover me.” “That’s a hard task,” +answered the fox, looking very thoughtful. At length he cried, “I have +it!” and went with him to a spring, dipped himself in it, and came out +as a stall-keeper in the market, and dealer in animals. The youth had +to dip himself in the water also, and was changed into a small +sea-hare. The merchant went into the town, and showed the pretty little +animal, and many persons gathered together to see it. At length the +King’s daughter came likewise, and as she liked it very much, she +bought it, and gave the merchant a good deal of money for it. Before he +gave it over to her, he said to it, “When the King’s daughter goes to +the window, creep quickly under the braids of her hair.” And now the +time arrived when she was to search for him. She went to one window +after another in turn, from the first to the eleventh, and did not see +him. When she did not see him from the twelfth either, she was full of +anxiety and anger, and shut it down with such violence that the glass +in every window shivered into a thousand pieces, and the whole castle +shook. + +She went back and felt the sea-hare beneath the braids of her hair. +Then she seized it, and threw it on the ground exclaiming, “Away with +thee, get out of my sight!” It ran to the merchant, and both of them +hurried to the spring, wherein they plunged, and received back their +true forms. The youth thanked the fox, and said, “The raven and the +fish are idiots compared with thee; thou knowest the right tune to +play, there is no denying that!” + +The youth went straight to the palace. The princess was already +expecting him, and accommodated herself to her destiny. The wedding was +solemnized, and now he was king, and lord of all the kingdom. He never +told her where he had concealed himself for the third time, and who had +helped him, so she believed that he had done everything by his own +skill, and she had a great respect for him, for she thought to herself, +“He is able to do more than I.” + + + +192 The Master-Thief + +One day an old man and his wife were sitting in front of a miserable +house resting a while from their work. Suddenly a splendid carriage +with four black horses came driving up, and a richly-dressed man +descended from it. The peasant stood up, went to the great man, and +asked what he wanted, and in what way he could be useful to him? The +stranger stretched out his hand to the old man, and said, “I want +nothing but to enjoy for once a country dish; cook me some potatoes, in +the way you always have them, and then I will sit down at your table +and eat them with pleasure.” The peasant smiled and said, “You are a +count or a prince, or perhaps even a duke; noble gentlemen often have +such fancies, but you shall have your wish.” The wife went into the +kitchen, and began to wash and rub the potatoes, and to make them into +balls, as they are eaten by the country-folks. Whilst she was busy with +this work, the peasant said to the stranger, “Come into my garden with +me for a while, I have still something to do there.” He had dug some +holes in the garden, and now wanted to plant some trees in them. “Have +you no children,” asked the stranger, “who could help you with your +work?” “No,” answered the peasant, “I had a son, it is true, but it is +long since he went out into the world. He was a ne’er-do-well; sharp, +and knowing, but he would learn nothing and was full of bad tricks, at +last he ran away from me, and since then I have heard nothing of him.” + +The old man took a young tree, put it in a hole, drove in a post beside +it, and when he had shovelled in some earth and had trampled it firmly +down, he tied the stem of the tree above, below, and in the middle, +fast to the post by a rope of straw. “But tell me,” said the stranger, +“why you don’t tie that crooked knotted tree, which is lying in the +corner there, bent down almost to the ground, to a post also that it +may grow straight, as well as these?” The old man smiled and said, +“Sir, you speak according to your knowledge, it is easy to see that you +are not familiar with gardening. That tree there is old, and +mis-shapen, no one can make it straight now. Trees must be trained +while they are young.” “That is how it was with your son,” said the +stranger, “if you had trained him while he was still young, he would +not have run away; now he too must have grown hard and mis-shapen.” +“Truly it is a long time since he went away,” replied the old man, “he +must have changed.” “Would you know him again if he were to come to +you?” asked the stranger. “Hardly by his face,” replied the peasant, +“but he has a mark about him, a birth-mark on his shoulder, that looks +like a bean.” When he had said that the stranger pulled off his coat, +bared his shoulder, and showed the peasant the bean. “Good God!” cried +the old man, “Thou art really my son!” and love for his child stirred +in his heart. “But,” he added, “how canst thou be my son, thou hast +become a great lord and livest in wealth and luxury? How hast thou +contrived to do that?” “Ah, father,” answered the son, “the young tree +was bound to no post and has grown crooked, now it is too old, it will +never be straight again. How have I got all that? I have become a +thief, but do not be alarmed, I am a master-thief. For me there are +neither locks nor bolts, whatsoever I desire is mine. Do not imagine +that I steal like a common thief, I only take some of the superfluity +of the rich. Poor people are safe, I would rather give to them than +take anything from them. It is the same with anything which I can have +without trouble, cunning and dexterity I never touch it.” “Alas, my +son,” said the father, “it still does not please me, a thief is still a +thief, I tell thee it will end badly.” He took him to his mother, and +when she heard that was her son, she wept for joy, but when he told her +that he had become a master-thief, two streams flowed down over her +face. At length she said, “Even if he has become a thief, he is still +my son, and my eyes have beheld him once more.” They sat down to table, +and once again he ate with his parents the wretched food which he had +not eaten for so long. The father said, “If our Lord, the count up +there in the castle, learns who thou art, and what trade thou +followest, he will not take thee in his arms and cradle thee in them as +he did when he held thee at the font, but will cause thee to swing from +a halter.” “Be easy, father, he will do me no harm, for I understand my +trade. I will go to him myself this very day.” When evening drew near, +the master-thief seated himself in his carriage, and drove to the +castle. The count received him civilly, for he took him for a +distinguished man. When, however, the stranger made himself known, the +count turned pale and was quite silent for some time. At length he +said, “Thou art my godson, and on that account mercy shall take the +place of justice, and I will deal leniently with thee. Since thou +pridest thyself on being a master-thief, I will put thy art to the +proof, but if thou dost not stand the test, thou must marry the +rope-maker’s daughter, and the croaking of the raven must be thy music +on the occasion.” “Lord count,” answered the master-thief, “Think of +three things, as difficult as you like, and if I do not perform your +tasks, do with me what you will.” The count reflected for some minutes, +and then said, “Well, then, in the first place, thou shalt steal the +horse I keep for my own riding, out of the stable; in the next, thou +shalt steal the sheet from beneath the bodies of my wife and myself +when we are asleep, without our observing it, and the wedding-ring of +my wife as well; thirdly and lastly, thou shalt steal away out of the +church, the parson and clerk. Mark what I am saying, for thy life +depends on it.” + +The master-thief went to the nearest town; there he bought the clothes +of an old peasant woman, and put them on. Then he stained his face +brown, and painted wrinkles on it as well, so that no one could have +recognized him. Then he filled a small cask with old Hungary wine in +which was mixed a powerful sleeping-drink. He put the cask in a basket, +which he took on his back, and walked with slow and tottering steps to +the count’s castle. It was already dark when he arrived. He sat down on +a stone in the court-yard and began to cough, like an asthmatic old +woman, and to rub his hands as if he were cold. In front of the door of +the stable some soldiers were lying round a fire; one of them observed +the woman, and called out to her, “Come nearer, old mother, and warm +thyself beside us. After all, thou hast no bed for the night, and must +take one where thou canst find it.” The old woman tottered up to them, +begged them to lift the basket from her back, and sat down beside them +at the fire. “What hast thou got in thy little cask, old lady?” asked +one. “A good mouthful of wine,” she answered. “I live by trade, for +money and fair words I am quite ready to let you have a glass.” “Let us +have it here, then,” said the soldier, and when he had tasted one glass +he said, “When wine is good, I like another glass,” and had another +poured out for himself, and the rest followed his example. “Hallo, +comrades,” cried one of them to those who were in the stable, “here is +an old goody who has wine that is as old as herself; take a draught, it +will warm your stomachs far better than our fire.” The old woman +carried her cask into the stable. One of the soldiers had seated +himself on the saddled riding-horse, another held its bridle in his +hand, a third had laid hold of its tail. She poured out as much as they +wanted until the spring ran dry. It was not long before the bridle fell +from the hand of the one, and he fell down and began to snore, the +other left hold of the tail, lay down and snored still louder. The one +who was sitting in the saddle, did remain sitting, but bent his head +almost down to the horse’s neck, and slept and blew with his mouth like +the bellows of a forge. The soldiers outside had already been asleep +for a long time, and were lying on the ground motionless, as if dead. +When the master-thief saw that he had succeeded, he gave the first a +rope in his hand instead of the bridle, and the other who had been +holding the tail, a wisp of straw, but what was he to do with the one +who was sitting on the horse’s back? He did not want to throw him down, +for he might have awakened and have uttered a cry. He had a good idea, +he unbuckled the girths of the saddle, tied a couple of ropes which +were hanging to a ring on the wall fast to the saddle, and drew the +sleeping rider up into the air on it, then he twisted the rope round +the posts, and made it fast. He soon unloosed the horse from the chain, +but if he had ridden over the stony pavement of the yard they would +have heard the noise in the castle. So he wrapped the horse’s hoofs in +old rags, led him carefully out, leapt upon him, and galloped off. + +When day broke, the master galloped to the castle on the stolen horse. +The count had just got up, and was looking out of the window. “Good +morning, Sir Count,” he cried to him, “here is the horse, which I have +got safely out of the stable! Just look, how beautifully your soldiers +are lying there sleeping; and if you will but go into the stable, you +will see how comfortable your watchers have made it for themselves.” +The count could not help laughing, then he said, “For once thou hast +succeeded, but things won’t go so well the second time, and I warn thee +that if thou comest before me as a thief, I will handle thee as I would +a thief.” When the countess went to bed that night, she closed her hand +with the wedding-ring tightly together, and the count said, “All the +doors are locked and bolted, I will keep awake and wait for the thief, +but if he gets in by the window, I will shoot him.” The master-thief, +however, went in the dark to the gallows, cut a poor sinner who was +hanging there down from the halter, and carried him on his back to the +castle. Then he set a ladder up to the bedroom, put the dead body on +his shoulders, and began to climb up. When he had got so high that the +head of the dead man showed at the window, the count, who was watching +in his bed, fired a pistol at him, and immediately the master let the +poor sinner fall down, and hid himself in one corner. The night was +sufficiently lighted by the moon, for the master to see distinctly how +the count got out of the window on to the ladder, came down, carried +the dead body into the garden, and began to dig a hole in which to lay +it. “Now,” thought the thief, “the favourable moment has come,” stole +nimbly out of his corner, and climbed up the ladder straight into the +countess’s bedroom. “Dear wife,” he began in the count’s voice, “the +thief is dead, but, after all, he is my godson, and has been more of a +scape-grace than a villain. I will not put him to open shame; besides, +I am sorry for the parents. I will bury him myself before daybreak, in +the garden that the thing may not be known, so give me the sheet, I +will wrap up the body in it, and bury him as a dog burries things by +scratching.” The countess gave him the sheet. “I tell you what,” +continued the thief, “I have a fit of magnanimity on me, give me the +ring too,—the unhappy man risked his life for it, so he may take it +with him into his grave.” She would not gainsay the count, and although +she did it unwillingly she drew the ring from her finger, and gave it +to him. The thief made off with both these things, and reached home +safely before the count in the garden had finished his work of burying. + +What a long face the count did pull when the master came next morning, +and brought him the sheet and the ring. “Art thou a wizard?” said he, +“Who has fetched thee out of the grave in which I myself laid thee, and +brought thee to life again?” “You did not bury me,” said the thief, +“but the poor sinner on the gallows,” and he told him exactly how +everything had happened, and the count was forced to own to him that he +was a clever, crafty thief. “But thou hast not reached the end yet,” he +added, “thou hast still to perform the third task, and if thou dost not +succeed in that, all is of no use.” The master smiled and returned no +answer. When night had fallen he went with a long sack on his back, a +bundle under his arms, and a lantern in his hand to the village-church. +In the sack he had some crabs, and in the bundle short wax-candles. He +sat down in the churchyard, took out a crab, and stuck a wax-candle on +his back. Then he lighted the little light, put the crab on the ground, +and let it creep about. He took a second out of the sack, and treated +it in the same way, and so on until the last was out of the sack. +Hereupon he put on a long black garment that looked like a monk’s cowl, +and stuck a gray beard on his chin. When at last he was quite +unrecognizable, he took the sack in which the crabs had been, went into +the church, and ascended the pulpit. The clock in the tower was just +striking twelve; when the last stroke had sounded, he cried with a loud +and piercing voice, “Hearken, sinful men, the end of all things has +come! The last day is at hand! Hearken! Hearken! Whosoever wishes to go +to heaven with me must creep into the sack. I am Peter, who opens and +shuts the gate of heaven. Behold how the dead outside there in the +churchyard, are wandering about collecting their bones. Come, come, and +creep into the sack; the world is about to be destroyed!” The cry +echoed through the whole village. The parson and clerk who lived +nearest to the church, heard it first, and when they saw the lights +which were moving about the churchyard, they observed that something +unusual was going on, and went into the church. They listened to the +sermon for a while, and then the clerk nudged the parson and said, “It +would not be amiss if we were to use the opportunity together, and +before the dawning of the last day, find an easy way of getting to +heaven.” “To tell the truth,” answered the parson, “that is what I +myself have been thinking, so if you are inclined, we will set out on +our way.” “Yes,” answered the clerk, “but you, the pastor, have the +precedence, I will follow.” So the parson went first, and ascended the +pulpit where the master opened his sack. The parson crept in first, and +then the clerk. The master immediately tied up the sack tightly, seized +it by the middle, and dragged it down the pulpit-steps, and whenever +the heads of the two fools bumped against the steps, he cried, “We are +going over the mountains.” Then he drew them through the village in the +same way, and when they were passing through puddles, he cried, “Now we +are going through wet clouds.” And when at last he was dragging them up +the steps of the castle, he cried, “Now we are on the steps of heaven, +and will soon be in the outer court.” When he had got to the top, he +pushed the sack into the pigeon-house, and when the pigeons fluttered +about, he said, “Hark how glad the angels are, and how they are +flapping their wings!” Then he bolted the door upon them, and went +away. + +Next morning he went to the count, and told him that he had performed +the third task also, and had carried the parson and clerk out of the +church. “Where hast thou left them?” asked the lord. “They are lying +upstairs in a sack in the pigeon-house, and imagine that they are in +heaven.” The count went up himself, and convinced himself that the +master had told the truth. When he had delivered the parson and clerk +from their captivity, he said, “Thou art an arch-thief, and hast won +thy wager. For once thou escapest with a whole skin, but see that thou +leavest my land, for if ever thou settest foot on it again, thou may’st +count on thy elevation to the gallows.” The arch-thief took leave of +his parents, once more went forth into the wide world, and no one has +ever heard of him since. + + + +193 The Drummer + +A young drummer went out quite alone one evening into the country, and +came to a lake on the shore of which he perceived three pieces of white +linen lying. “What fine linen,” said he, and put one piece in his +pocket. He returned home, thought no more of what he had found, and +went to bed. Just as he was going to sleep, it seemed to him as if some +one was saying his name. He listened, and was aware of a soft voice +which cried to him, “Drummer, drummer, wake up!” As it was a dark night +he could see no one, but it appeared to him that a figure was hovering +about his bed. “What do you want?” he asked. “Give me back my dress,” +answered the voice, “that you took away from me last evening by the +lake.” “You shall have it back again,” said the drummer, “if you will +tell me who you are.” “Ah,” replied the voice, “I am the daughter of a +mighty King; but I have fallen into the power of a witch, and am shut +up on the glass-mountain. I have to bathe in the lake every day with my +two sisters, but I cannot fly back again without my dress. My sisters +have gone away, but I have been forced to stay behind. I entreat you to +give me my dress back.” “Be easy, poor child,” said the drummer. “I +will willingly give it back to you.” He took it out of his pocket, and +reached it to her in the dark. She snatched it in haste, and wanted to +go away with it. “Stop a moment, perhaps I can help you.” “You can only +help me by ascending the glass-mountain, and freeing me from the power +of the witch. But you cannot come to the glass-mountain, and indeed if +you were quite close to it you could not ascend it.” “When I want to do +a thing I always can do it,” said the drummer; “I am sorry for you, and +have no fear of anything. But I do not know the way which leads to the +glass-mountain.” “The road goes through the great forest, in which the +man-eaters live,” she answered, “and more than that, I dare not tell +you.” And then he heard her wings quiver, as she flew away. + +By daybreak the drummer arose, buckled on his drum, and went without +fear straight into the forest. After he had walked for a while without +seeing any giants, he thought to himself, “I must waken up the +sluggards,” and he hung his drum before him, and beat such a reveille +that the birds flew out of the trees with loud cries. It was not long +before a giant who had been lying sleeping among the grass, rose up, +and was as tall as a fir-tree. “Wretch!” cried he; “what art thou +drumming here for, and wakening me out of my best sleep?” “I am +drumming,” he replied, “because I want to show the way to many +thousands who are following me.” “What do they want in my forest?” +demanded the giant. “They want to put an end to thee, and cleanse the +forest of such a monster as thou art!” “Oho!” said the giant, “I will +trample you all to death like so many ants.” “Dost thou think thou +canst do anything against us?” said the drummer; “if thou stoopest to +take hold of one, he will jump away and hide himself; but when thou art +lying down and sleeping, they will come forth from every thicket, and +creep up to thee. Every one of them has a hammer of steel in his belt, +and with that they will beat in thy skull.” The giant grew angry and +thought, “If I meddle with the crafty folk, it might turn out badly for +me. I can strangle wolves and bears, but I cannot protect myself from +these earth-worms.” “Listen, little fellow,” said he; “go back again, +and I will promise you that for the future I will leave you and your +comrades in peace, and if there is anything else you wish for, tell me, +for I am quite willing to do something to please you.” “Thou hast long +legs,” said the drummer, “and canst run quicker than I; carry me to the +glass-mountain, and I will give my followers a signal to go back, and +they shall leave thee in peace this time.” “Come here, worm,” said the +giant; “seat thyself on my shoulder, I will carry thee where thou +wishest to be.” The giant lifted him up, and the drummer began to beat +his drum up aloft to his heart’s delight. The giant thought, “That is +the signal for the other people to turn back.” + +After a while, a second giant was standing in the road, who took the +drummer from the first, and stuck him in his button-hole. The drummer +laid hold of the button, which was as large as a dish, held on by it, +and looked merrily around. Then they came to a third giant, who took +him out of the button-hole, and set him on the rim of his hat. Then the +drummer walked backwards and forwards up above, and looked over the +trees, and when he perceived a mountain in the blue distance, he +thought, “That must be the glass-mountain,” and so it was. The giant +only made two steps more, and they reached the foot of the mountain, +where the giant put him down. The drummer demanded to be put on the +summit of the glass-mountain, but the giant shook his head, growled +something in his beard, and went back into the forest. + +And now the poor drummer was standing before the mountain, which was as +high as if three mountains were piled on each other, and at the same +time as smooth as a looking-glass, and did not know how to get up it. +He began to climb, but that was useless, for he always slipped back +again. “If one was a bird now,” thought he; but what was the good of +wishing, no wings grew for him. + +Whilst he was standing thus, not knowing what to do, he saw, not far +from him, two men who were struggling fiercely together. He went up to +them and saw that they were disputing about a saddle which was lying on +the ground before them, and which both of them wanted to have. “What +fools you are,” said he, “to quarrel about a saddle, when you have not +a horse for it!” “The saddle is worth fighting about,” answered one of +the men; “whosoever sits on it, and wishes himself in any place, even +if it should be the very end of the earth, gets there the instant he +has uttered the wish. The saddle belongs to us in common. It is my turn +to ride on it, but that other man will not let me do it.” “I will soon +decide the quarrel,” said the drummer, and he went to a short distance +and stuck a white rod in the ground. Then he came back and said, “Now +run to the goal, and whoever gets there first, shall ride first.” Both +put themselves into a trot; but hardly had they gone a couple of steps +before the drummer swung himself on the saddle, wished himself on the +glass-mountain, and before any one could turn round, he was there. On +the top of the mountain was a plain; there stood an old stone house, +and in front of the house lay a great fish-pond, but behind it was a +dark forest. He saw neither men nor animals, everything was quiet; only +the wind rustled amongst the trees, and the clouds moved by quite close +above his head. He went to the door and knocked. When he had knocked +for the third time, an old woman with a brown face and red eyes opened +the door. She had spectacles on her long nose, and looked sharply at +him; then she asked what he wanted. “Entrance, food, and a bed for the +night,” replied the drummer. “That thou shalt have,” said the old +woman, “if thou wilt perform three services in return.” “Why not?” he +answered, “I am not afraid of any kind of work, however hard it may +be.” The old woman let him go in, and gave him some food and a good bed +at night. The next morning when he had had his sleep out, she took a +thimble from her wrinkled finger, reached it to the drummer, and said, +“Go to work now, and empty out the pond with this thimble; but thou +must have it done before night, and must have sought out all the fishes +which are in the water and laid them side by side, according to their +kind and size.” “That is strange work,” said the drummer, but he went +to the pond, and began to empty it. He baled the whole morning; but +what can any one do to a great lake with a thimble, even if he were to +bale for a thousand years? + +When it was noon, he thought, “It is all useless, and whether I work or +not it will come to the same thing.” So he gave it up and sat down. +Then came a maiden out of the house who set a little basket with food +before him, and said, “What ails thee, that thou sittest so sadly +here?” He looked at her, and saw that she was wondrously beautiful. +“Ah,” said he, “I cannot finish the first piece of work, how will it be +with the others? I came forth to seek a king’s daughter who is said to +dwell here, but I have not found her, and I will go farther.” “Stay +here,” said the maiden, “I will help thee out of thy difficulty. Thou +art tired, lay thy head in my lap, and sleep. When thou awakest again, +thy work will be done.” The drummer did not need to be told that twice. +As soon as his eyes were shut, she turned a wishing-ring and said, +“Rise, water. Fishes, come out.” Instantly the water rose on high like +a white mist, and moved away with the other clouds, and the fishes +sprang on the shore and laid themselves side by side each according to +his size and kind. When the drummer awoke, he saw with amazement that +all was done. But the maiden said, “One of the fish is not lying with +those of its own kind, but quite alone; when the old woman comes +to-night and sees that all she demanded has been done, she will ask +thee, ‘What is this fish lying alone for?’ Then throw the fish in her +face, and say, ‘This one shall be for thee, old witch.’” In the evening +the witch came, and when she had put this question, he threw the fish +in her face. She behaved as if she did not remark it, and said nothing, +but looked at him with malicious eyes. Next morning she said, +“Yesterday it was too easy for thee, I must give thee harder work. +To-day thou must hew down the whole of the forest, split the wood into +logs, and pile them up, and everything must be finished by the +evening.” She gave him an axe, a mallet, and two wedges. But the axe +was made of lead, and the mallet and wedges were of tin. When he began +to cut, the edge of the axe turned back, and the mallet and wedges were +beaten out of shape. He did not know how to manage, but at mid-day the +maiden came once more with his dinner and comforted him. “Lay thy head +on my lap,” said she, “and sleep; when thou awakest, thy work will be +done.” She turned her wishing-ring, and in an instant the whole forest +fell down with a crash, the wood split, and arranged itself in heaps, +and it seemed just as if unseen giants were finishing the work. When he +awoke, the maiden said, “Dost thou see that the wood is piled up and +arranged, one bough alone remains; but when the old woman comes this +evening and asks thee about that bough, give her a blow with it, and +say, ‘That is for thee, thou witch.’” + +The old woman came, “There thou seest how easy the work was!” said she; +“but for whom hast thou left that bough which is lying there still?” + +“For thee, thou witch,” he replied, and gave her a blow with it. But +she pretended not to feel it, laughed scornfully, and said, “Early +to-morrow morning thou shalt arrange all the wood in one heap, set fire +to it, and burn it.” He rose at break of day, and began to pick up the +wood, but how can a single man get a whole forest together? The work +made no progress. The maiden, however, did not desert him in his need. +She brought him his food at noon, and when he had eaten, he laid his +head on her lap, and went to sleep. When he awoke, the entire pile of +wood was burning in one enormous flame, which stretched its tongues out +into the sky. “Listen to me,” said the maiden, “when the witch comes, +she will give thee all kinds of orders; do whatever she asks thee +without fear, and then she will not be able to get the better of thee, +but if thou art afraid, the fire will lay hold of thee, and consume +thee. At last when thou hast done everything, seize her with both thy +hands, and throw her into the midst of the fire.” The maiden departed, +and the old woman came sneaking up to him. “Oh, I am cold,” said she, +“but that is a fire that burns; it warms my old bones for me, and does +me good! But there is a log lying there which won’t burn, bring it out +for me. When thou hast done that, thou art free, and mayst go where +thou likest, come; go in with a good will.” + +The drummer did not reflect long; he sprang into the midst of the +flames, but they did not hurt him, and could not even singe a hair of +his head. He carried the log out, and laid it down. Hardly, however, +had the wood touched the earth than it was transformed, and the +beautiful maiden who had helped him in his need stood before him, and +by the silken and shining golden garments which she wore, he knew right +well that she was the King’s daughter. But the old woman laughed +venomously, and said, “Thou thinkest thou hast her safe, but thou hast +not got her yet!” Just as she was about to fall on the maiden and take +her away, the youth seized the old woman with both his hands, raised +her up on high, and threw her into the jaws of the fire, which closed +over her as if it were delighted that an old witch was to be burnt. + +Then the King’s daughter looked at the drummer, and when she saw that +he was a handsome youth and remembered how he had risked his life to +deliver her, she gave him her hand, and said, “Thou hast ventured +everything for my sake, but I also will do everything for thine. +Promise to be true to me, and thou shalt be my husband. We shall not +want for riches, we shall have enough with what the witch has gathered +together here.” She led him into the house, where there were chests and +coffers crammed with the old woman’s treasures. The maiden left the +gold and silver where it was, and took only the precious stones. She +would not stay any longer on the glass-mountain, so the drummer said to +her, “Seat thyself by me on my saddle, and then we will fly down like +birds.” “I do not like the old saddle,” said she, “I need only turn my +wishing-ring and we shall be at home.” “Very well, then,” answered the +drummer, “then wish us in front of the town-gate.” In the twinkling of +an eye they were there, but the drummer said, “I will just go to my +parents and tell them the news, wait for me outside here, I shall soon +be back.” “Ah,” said the King’s daughter, “I beg thee to be careful. On +thy arrival do not kiss thy parents on the right cheek, or else thou +wilt forget everything, and I shall stay behind here outside, alone and +deserted.” “How can I forget thee?” said he, and promised her to come +back very soon, and gave his hand upon it. When he went into his +father’s house, he had changed so much that no one knew who he was, for +the three days which he had passed on the glass-mountain had been three +years. Then he made himself known, and his parents fell on his neck +with joy, and his heart was so moved that he forgot what the maiden had +said, and kissed them on both cheeks. But when he had given them the +kiss on the right cheek, every thought of the King’s daughter vanished +from him. He emptied out his pockets, and laid handfuls of the largest +jewels on the table. The parents had not the least idea what to do with +the riches. Then the father built a magnificent castle all surrounded +by gardens, woods, and meadows as if a prince were going to live in it, +and when it was ready, the mother said, “I have found a maiden for +thee, and the wedding shall be in three days. The son was content to do +as his parents desired.” + +The poor King’s daughter had stood for a long time without the town +waiting for the return of the young man. When evening came, she said, +“He must certainly have kissed his parents on the right cheek, and has +forgotten me.” Her heart was full of sorrow, she wished herself into a +solitary little hut in a forest, and would not return to her father’s +court. Every evening she went into the town and passed the young man’s +house; he often saw her, but he no longer knew her. At length she heard +the people saying, “The wedding will take place to-morrow.” Then she +said, “I will try if I can win his heart back.” + +On the first day of the wedding ceremonies, she turned her +wishing-ring, and said, “A dress as bright as the sun.” Instantly the +dress lay before her, and it was as bright as if it had been woven of +real sunbeams. When all the guests were assembled, she entered the +hall. Every one was amazed at the beautiful dress, and the bride most +of all, and as pretty dresses were the things she had most delight in, +she went to the stranger and asked if she would sell it to her. “Not +for money,” she answered, “but if I may pass the first night outside +the door of the room where your betrothed sleeps, I will give it up to +you.” The bride could not overcome her desire and consented, but she +mixed a sleeping-draught with the wine her betrothed took at night, +which made him fall into a deep sleep, When all had become quiet, the +King’s daughter crouched down by the door of the bedroom, opened it +just a little, and cried, + +“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear! +Hast thou forgotten thou heldest me dear? +That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour? +That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power? +Didst thou not plight thy troth to me? +Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!” + + +But it was all in vain, the drummer did not awake, and when morning +dawned, the King’s daughter was forced to go back again as she came. On +the second evening she turned her wishing-ring and said, “A dress as +silvery as the moon.” When she appeared at the feast in the dress which +was as soft as moonbeams, it again excited the desire of the bride, and +the King’s daughter gave it to her for permission to pass the second +night also, outside the door of the bedroom. Then in the stillness of +the night, she cried, + +“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear! +Hast thou forgotten thy heldest me dear? +That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour? +That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power? +Didst thou not plight thy troth to me? +Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!” + + +But the drummer, who was stupefied with the sleeping-draught, could not +be aroused. Sadly next morning she went back to her hut in the forest. +But the people in the house had heard the lamentation of the +stranger-maiden, and told the bridegroom about it. They told him also +that it was impossible that he could hear anything of it, because the +maiden he was going to marry had poured a sleeping-draught into his +wine. + +On the third evening, the King’s daughter turned her wishing-ring, and +said, “A dress glittering like the stars.” When she showed herself +therein at the feast, the bride was quite beside herself with the +splendour of the dress, which far surpassed the others, and she said, +“I must, and will have it.” The maiden gave it as she had given the +others for permission to spend the night outside the bridegroom’s door. +The bridegroom, however, did not drink the wine which was handed to him +before he went to bed, but poured it behind the bed, and when +everything was quiet, he heard a sweet voice which called to him, + +“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear! +Hast thou forgotten thou held me dear? +That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour? +That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power? +Didst thou not plight thy troth to me? +Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!” + + +Suddenly, his memory returned to him. “Ah,” cried he, “how can I have +acted so unfaithfully; but the kiss which in the joy of my heart I gave +my parents, on the right cheek, that is to blame for it all, that is +what stupefied me!” He sprang up, took the King’s daughter by the hand, +and led her to his parents’ bed. “This is my true bride,” said he; “if +I marry the other, I shall do a great wrong.” The parents, when they +heard how everything had happened, gave their consent. Then the lights +in the hall were lighted again, drums and trumpets were brought, +friends and relations were invited to come, and the real wedding was +solemnized with great rejoicing. The first bride received the beautiful +dresses as a compensation, and declared herself satisfied. + + + +194 The Ear of Corn + +In former times, when God himself still walked the earth, the +fruitfulness of the soil was much greater than it is now; then the ears +of corn did not bear fifty or sixty, but four or five hundred-fold. +Then the corn grew from the bottom to the very top o f the stalk, and +according to the length of the stalk was the length of the ear. Men +however are so made, that when they are too well off they no longer +value the blessings which come from God, but grow indifferent and +careless. One day a woman was passing by a corn-field when her little +child, who was running beside her, fell into a puddle, and dirtied her +frock. On this the mother tore up a handful of the beautiful ears of +corn, and cleaned the frock with them. + +When the Lord, who just then came by, saw that, he was angry, and said, +“Henceforth shall the stalks of corn bear no more ears; men are no +longer worthy of heavenly gifts.” The by-standers who heard this, were +terrified, and fell on their knees and prayed that he would still leave +something on the stalks, even if the people were undeserving of it, for +the sake of the innocent birds which would otherwise have to starve. +The Lord, who foresaw their suffering, had pity on them, and granted +the request. So the ears were left as they now grow. + + + +195 The Grave-Mound + +A rich farmer was one day standing in his yard inspecting his fields +and gardens. The corn was growing up vigorously and the fruit-trees +were heavily laden with fruit. The grain of the year before still lay +in such immense heaps on the floors that the rafters could hardly bear +it. Then he went into the stable, where were well-fed oxen, fat cows, +and horses bright as looking-glass. At length he went back into his +sitting-room, and cast a glance at the iron chest in which his money +lay. + +Whilst he was thus standing surveying his riches, all at once there was +a loud knock close by him. The knock was not at the door of his room, +but at the door of his heart. It opened, and he heard a voice which +said to him, “Hast thou done good to thy family with it? Hast thou +considered the necessities of the poor? Hast thou shared thy bread with +the hungry? Hast thou been contented with what thou hast, or didst thou +always desire to have more?” The heart was not slow in answering, “I +have been hard and pitiless, and have never shown any kindness to my +own family. If a beggar came, I turned away my eyes from him. I have +not troubled myself about God, but have thought only of increasing my +wealth. If everything which the sky covers had been mine own, I should +still not have had enough.” + +When he was aware of this answer he was greatly alarmed, his knees +began to tremble, and he was forced to sit down. + +Then there was another knock, but the knock was at the door of his +room. It was his neighbour, a poor man who had a number of children +whom he could no longer satisfy with food. “I know,” thought the poor +man, “that my neighbour is rich, but he is as hard as he is rich. I +don’t believe he will help me, but my children are crying for bread, so +I will venture it.” He said to the rich man, “You do not readily give +away anything that is yours, but I stand here like one who feels the +water rising above his head. My children are starving, lend me four +measures* of corn.” The rich man looked at him long, and then the first +sunbeam of mercy began to melt away a drop of the ice of greediness. “I +will not lend thee four measures,” he answered, “but I will make thee a +present of eight, but thou must fulfil one condition.” “What am I to +do?” said the poor man. “When I am dead, thou shalt watch for three +nights by my grave.” The peasant was disturbed in his mind at this +request, but in the need in which he was, he would have consented to +anything; he accepted, therefore, and carried the corn home with him. + +It seemed as if the rich man had foreseen what was about to happen, for +when three days were gone by, he suddenly dropped down dead. No one +knew exactly how it came to pass, but no one grieved for him. When he +was buried, the poor man remembered his promise; he would willingly +have been released from it, but he thought, “After all, he acted kindly +by me. I have fed my hungry children with his corn, and even if that +were not the case, where I have once given my promise I must keep it.” +At nightfall he went into the churchyard, and seated himself on the +grave-mound. Everything was quiet, only the moon appeared above the +grave, and frequently an owl flew past and uttered her melancholy cry. +When the sun rose, the poor man betook himself in safety to his home, +and in the same manner the second night passed quietly by. On the +evening of the third day he felt a strange uneasiness, it seemed to him +that something was about to happen. When he went out he saw, by the +churchyard-wall, a man whom he had never seen before. He was no longer +young, had scars on his face, and his eyes looked sharply and eagerly +around. He was entirely covered with an old cloak, and nothing was +visible but his great riding-boots. “What are you looking for here?” +the peasant asked. “Are you not afraid of the lonely churchyard?” + +“I am looking for nothing,” he answered, “and I am afraid of nothing! I +am like the youngster who went forth to learn how to shiver, and had +his labour for his pains, but got the King’s daughter to wife and great +wealth with her, only I have remained poor. I am nothing but a paid-off +soldier, and I mean to pass the night here, because I have no other +shelter.” “If you are without fear,” said the peasant, “stay with me, +and help me to watch that grave there.” + +“To keep watch is a soldier’s business,” he replied, “whatever we fall +in with here, whether it be good or bad, we will share it between us.” +The peasant agreed to this, and they seated themselves on the grave +together. + +All was quiet until midnight, when suddenly a shrill whistling was +heard in the air, and the two watchers perceived the Evil One standing +bodily before them. “Be off, you ragamuffins!” cried he to them, “the +man who lies in that grave belongs to me; I want to take him, and if +you don’t go away I will wring your necks!” “Sir with the red feather,” +said the soldier, “you are not my captain, I have no need to obey you, +and I have not yet learned how to fear. Go away, we shall stay sitting +here.” + +The Devil thought to himself, “Money is the best thing with which to +get hold of these two vagabonds.” So he began to play a softer tune, +and asked quite kindly, if they would not accept a bag of money, and go +home with it? “That is worth listening to,” answered the soldier, “but +one bag of gold won’t serve us, if you will give as much as will go +into one of my boots, we will quit the field for you and go away.” + +“I have not so much as that about me,” said the Devil, “but I will +fetch it. In the neighbouring town lives a money-changer who is a good +friend of mine, and will readily advance it to me.” When the Devil had +vanished the soldier took his left boot off, and said, “We will soon +pull the charcoal-burner’s nose for him, just give me your knife, +comrade.” He cut the sole off the boot, and put it in the high grass +near the grave on the edge of a hole that was half over-grown. “That +will do,” said he; “now the chimney-sweep may come.” + +They both sat down and waited, and it was not long before the Devil +returned with a small bag of gold in his hand. “Just pour it in,” said +the soldier, raising up the boot a little, “but that won’t be enough.” + +The Black One shook out all that was in the bag; the gold fell through, +and the boot remained empty. “Stupid Devil,” cried the soldier, “it +won’t do! Didn’t I say so at once? Go back again, and bring more.” The +Devil shook his head, went, and in an hour’s time came with a much +larger bag under his arm. “Now pour it in,” cried the soldier, “but I +doubt the boot won’t be full.” The gold clinked as it fell, but the +boot remained empty. The Devil looked in himself with his burning eyes, +and convinced himself of the truth. “You have shamefully big calves to +your legs!” cried he, and made a wry face. “Did you think,” replied the +soldier, “that I had a cloven foot like you? Since when have you been +so stingy? See that you get more gold together, or our bargain will +come to nothing!” The Wicked One went off again. This time he stayed +away longer, and when at length he appeared he was panting under the +weight of a sack which lay on his shoulders. He emptied it into the +boot, which was just as far from being filled as before. He became +furious, and was just going to tear the boot out of the soldier’s +hands, but at that moment the first ray of the rising sun broke forth +from the sky, and the Evil Spirit fled away with loud shrieks. The poor +soul was saved. + +The peasant wished to divide the gold, but the soldier said, “Give what +falls to my lot to the poor, I will come with thee to thy cottage, and +together we will live in rest and peace on what remains, as long as God +is pleased to permit.” + + + +196 Old Rinkrank + +There was once on a time a King who had a daughter, and he caused a +glass mountain to be made, and said that whosoever could cross to the +other side of it without falling should have his daughter to wife. Then +there was one who loved the King’s daughter, and he asked the King if +he might have her. “Yes,” said the King; “if you can cross the mountain +without falling, you shall have her.” And the princess said she would +go over it with him, and would hold him if he were about to fall. So +they set out together to go over it, and when they were half way up the +princess slipped and fell, and the glass-mountain opened and shut her +up inside it, and her betrothed could not see where she had gone, for +the mountain closed immediately. Then he wept and lamented much, and +the King was miserable too, and had the mountain broken open where she +had been lost, and though the would be able to get her out again, but +they could not find the place into which she had fallen. Meanwhile the +King’s daughter had fallen quite deep down into the earth into a great +cave. An old fellow with a very long gray beard came to meet her, and +told her that if she would be his servant and do everything he bade +her, she might live, if not he would kill her. So she did all he bade +her. In the mornings he took his ladder out of his pocket, and set it +up against the mountain and climbed to the top by its help, and then he +drew up the ladder after him. The princess had to cook his dinner, make +his bed, and do all his work, and when he came home again he always +brought with him a heap of gold and silver. When she had lived with him +for many years, and had grown quite old, he called her Mother Mansrot, +and she had to call him Old Rinkrank. Then once when he was out, and +she had made his bed and washed his dishes, she shut the doors and +windows all fast, and there was one little window through which the +light shone in, and this she left open. When Old Rinkrank came home, he +knocked at his door, and cried, “Mother Mansrot, open the door for me.” +“No,” said she, “Old Rinkrank, I will not open the door for thee.” Then +he said, + +“Here stand I, poor Rinkrank, +On my seventeen long shanks, +On my weary, worn-out foot, +Wash my dishes, Mother Mansrot.” + + +“I have washed thy dishes already,” said she. Then again he said, + +“Here stand I, poor Rinkrank, +On my seventeen long shanks, +On my weary, worn-out foot, +Make me my bed, Mother Mansrot.” + + +“I have made thy bed already,” said she. Then again he said, + +“Here stand I, poor Rinkrank, +On my seventeen long shanks, +On my weary, worn-out foot, +Open the door, Mother Mansrot.” + + +Then he ran all round his house, and saw that the little window was +open, and thought, “I will look in and see what she can be about, and +why she will not open the door for me.” He tried to peep in, but could +not get his head through because of his long beard. So he first put his +beard through the open window, but just as he had got it through, +Mother Mansrot came by and pulled the window down with a cord which she +had tied to it, and his beard was shut fast in it. Then he began to cry +most piteously, for it hurt him very much, and to entreat her to +release him again. But she said not until he gave her the ladder with +which he ascended the mountain. Then, whether he would or not, he had +to tell her where the ladder was. And she fastened a very long ribbon +to the window, and then she set up the ladder, and ascended the +mountain, and when she was at the top of it she opened the window. She +went to her father, and told him all that had happened to her. The King +rejoiced greatly, and her betrothed was still there, and they went and +dug up the mountain, and found Old Rinkrank inside it with all his gold +and silver. Then the King had Old Rinkrank put to death, and took all +his gold and silver. The princess married her betrothed, and lived +right happily in great magnificence and joy. + + + +197 The Crystal Ball + +There was once an enchantress, who had three sons who loved each other +as brothers, but the old woman did not trust them, and thought they +wanted to steal her power from her. So she changed the eldest into an +eagle, which was forced to dwell in the rocky mountains, and was often +seen sweeping in great circles in the sky. The second, she changed into +a whale, which lived in the deep sea, and all that was seen of it was +that it sometimes spouted up a great jet of water in the air. Each of +them only bore his human form for only two hours daily. The third son, +who was afraid she might change him into a raging wild beast a bear +perhaps, or a wolf, went secretly away. He had heard that a King’s +daughter who was bewitched, was imprisoned in the Castle of the Golden +Sun, and was waiting for deliverance. Those, however, who tried to free +her risked their lives; three-and-twenty youths had already died a +miserable death, and now only one other might make the attempt, after +which no more must come. And as his heart was without fear, he caught +at the idea of seeking out the Castle of the Golden Sun. He had already +travelled about for a long time without being able to find it, when he +came by chance into a great forest, and did not know the way out of it. +All at once he saw in the distance two giants, who made a sign to him +with their hands, and when he came to them they said, “We are +quarrelling about a cap, and which of us it is to belong to, and as we +are equally strong, neither of us can get the better of the other. The +small men are cleverer than we are, so we will leave the decision to +thee.” “How can you dispute about an old cap?” said the youth. “Thou +dost not know what properties it has! It is a wishing-cap; whosoever +puts it on, can wish himself away wherever he likes, and in an instant +he will be there.” “Give me the cap,” said the youth, “I will go a +short distance off, and when I call you, you must run a race, and the +cap shall belong to the one who gets first to me.” He put it on and +went away, and thought of the King’s daughter, forgot the giants, and +walked continually onward. At length he sighed from the very bottom of +his heart, and cried, “Ah, if I were but at the Castle of the Golden +Sun,” and hardly had the words passed his lips than he was standing on +a high mountain before the gate of the castle. + +He entered and went through all the rooms, until in the last he found +the King’s daughter. But how shocked he was when he saw her. She had an +ashen-gray face full of wrinkles, blear eyes, and red hair. “Are you +the King’s daughter, whose beauty the whole world praises?” cried he. +“Ah,” she answered, “this is not my form; human eyes can only see me in +this state of ugliness, but that thou mayst know what I am like, look +in the mirror it does not let itself be misled it will show thee my +image as it is in truth.” She gave him the mirror in his hand, and he +saw therein the likeness of the most beautiful maiden on earth, and +saw, too, how the tears were rolling down her cheeks with grief. Then +said he, “How canst thou be set free? I fear no danger.” She said, “He +who gets the crystal ball, and holds it before the enchanter, will +destroy his power with it, and I shall resume my true shape. Ah,” she +added, “so many have already gone to meet death for this, and thou art +so young; I grieve that thou shouldst encounter such great danger.” +“Nothing can keep me from doing it,” said he, “but tell me what I must +do.” “Thou shalt know everything,” said the King’s daughter; “when thou +descendest the mountain on which the castle stands, a wild bull will +stand below by a spring, and thou must fight with it, and if thou hast +the luck to kill it, a fiery bird will spring out of it, which bears in +its body a burning egg, and in the egg the crystal ball lies like a +yolk. The bird will not, however, let the egg fall until forced to do +so, and if it falls on the ground, it will flame up and burn everything +that is near, and melt even ice itself, and with it the crystal ball, +and then all thy trouble will have been in vain.” + +The youth went down to the spring, where the bull snorted and bellowed +at him. After a long struggle he plunged his sword in the animal’s +body, and it fell down. Instantly a fiery bird arose from it, and was +about to fly away, but the young man’s brother, the eagle, who was +passing between the clouds, swooped down, hunted it away to the sea, +and struck it with his beak until, in its extremity, it let the egg +fall. The egg did not, however, fall into the sea, but on a fisherman’s +hut which stood on the shore and the hut began at once to smoke and was +about to break out in flames. Then arose in the sea waves as high as a +house, they streamed over the hut, and subdued the fire. The other +brother, the whale, had come swimming to them, and had driven the water +up on high. When the fire was extinguished, the youth sought for the +egg and happily found it; it was not yet melted, but the shell was +broken by being so suddenly cooled with the water, and he could take +out the crystal ball unhurt. + +When the youth went to the enchanter and held it before him, the latter +said, “My power is destroyed, and from this time forth thou art the +King of the Castle of the Golden Sun. With this canst thou likewise +give back to thy brothers their human form.” Then the youth hastened to +the King’s daughter, and when he entered the room, she was standing +there in the full splendour of her beauty, and joyfully they exchanged +rings with each other. + + + +198 Maid Maleen + +There was once a King who had a son who asked in marriage the daughter +of a mighty King; she was called Maid Maleen, and was very beautiful. +As her father wished to give her to another, the prince was rejected; +but as they both loved each other with all their hearts, they would not +give each other up, and Maid Maleen said to her father, “I can and will +take no other for my husband.” Then the King flew into a passion, and +ordered a dark tower to be built, into which no ray of sunlight or +moonlight should enter. When it was finished, he said, “Therein shalt +thou be imprisoned for seven years, and then I will come and see if thy +perverse spirit is broken.” Meat and drink for the seven years were +carried into the tower, and then she and her waiting-woman were led +into it and walled up, and thus cut off from the sky and from the +earth. There they sat in the darkness, and knew not when day or night +began. The King’s son often went round and round the tower, and called +their names, but no sound from without pierced through the thick walls. +What else could they do but lament and complain? Meanwhile the time +passed, and by the diminution of the food and drink they knew that the +seven years were coming to an end. They thought the moment of their +deliverance was come; but no stroke of the hammer was heard, no stone +fell out of the wall, and it seemed to Maid Maleen that her father had +forgotten her. As they only had food for a short time longer, and saw a +miserable death awaiting them, Maid Maleen said, “We must try our last +chance, and see if we can break through the wall.” She took the +bread-knife, and picked and bored at the mortar of a stone, and when +she was tired, the waiting-maid took her turn. With great labour they +succeeded in getting out one stone, and then a second, and a third, and +when three days were over the first ray of light fell on their +darkness, and at last the opening was so large that they could look +out. The sky was blue, and a fresh breeze played on their faces; but +how melancholy everything looked all around! Her father’s castle lay in +ruins, the town and the villages were, so far as could be seen, +destroyed by fire, the fields far and wide laid to waste, and no human +being was visible. When the opening in the wall was large enough for +them to slip through, the waiting-maid sprang down first, and then Maid +Maleen followed. But where were they to go? The enemy had ravaged the +whole kingdom, driven away the King, and slain all the inhabitants. +They wandered forth to seek another country, but nowhere did they find +a shelter, or a human being to give them a mouthful of bread, and their +need was so great that they were forced to appease their hunger with +nettles. When, after long journeying, they came into another country, +they tried to get work everywhere; but wherever they knocked they were +turned away, and no one would have pity on them. At last they arrived +in a large city and went to the royal palace. There also they were +ordered to go away, but at last the cook said that they might stay in +the kitchen and be scullions. + +The son of the King in whose kingdom they were, was, however, the very +man who had been betrothed to Maid Maleen. His father had chosen +another bride for him, whose face was as ugly as her heart was wicked. +The wedding was fixed, and the maiden had already arrived; but because +of her great ugliness, however, she shut herself in her room, and +allowed no one to see her, and Maid Maleen had to take her her meals +from the kitchen. When the day came for the bride and the bridegroom to +go to church, she was ashamed of her ugliness, and afraid that if she +showed herself in the streets, she would be mocked and laughed at by +the people. Then said she to Maid Maleen, “A great piece of luck has +befallen thee. I have sprained my foot, and cannot well walk through +the streets; thou shalt put on my wedding-clothes and take my place; a +greater honour than that thou canst not have!” Maid Maleen, however, +refused it, and said, “I wish for no honour which is not suitable for +me.” It was in vain, too, that the bride offered her gold. At last she +said angrily, “If thou dost not obey me, it shall cost thee thy life. I +have but to speak the word, and thy head will lie at thy feet.” Then +she was forced to obey, and put on the bride’s magnificent clothes and +all her jewels. When she entered the royal hall, every one was amazed +at her great beauty, and the King said to his son, “This is the bride +whom I have chosen for thee, and whom thou must lead to church.” The +bridegroom was astonished, and thought, “She is like my Maid Maleen, +and I should believe that it was she herself, but she has long been +shut up in the tower, or dead.” He took her by the hand and led her to +church. On the way was a nettle-plant, and she said, + +“Oh, nettle-plant, +Little nettle-plant, +What dost thou here alone? +I have known the time +When I ate thee unboiled, +When I ate thee unroasted.” + + +“What art thou saying?” asked the King’s son. “Nothing,” she replied, +“I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.” He was surprised that she knew +about her, but kept silence. When they came to the foot-plank into the +churchyard, she said, + +“Foot-bridge, do not break, +I am not the true bride.” + + +“What art thou saying there?” asked the King’s son. “Nothing,” she +replied, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.” “Dost thou know Maid +Maleen?” “No,” she answered, “how should I know her; I have only heard +of her.” When they came to the church-door, she said once more, + +“Church-door, break not, +I am not the true bride.” + + +“What art thou saying there?” asked he. “Ah,” she answered, “I was only +thinking of Maid Maleen.” Then he took out a precious chain, put it +round her neck, and fastened the clasp. Thereupon they entered the +church, and the priest joined their hands together before the altar, +and married them. He led her home, but she did not speak a single word +the whole way. When they got back to the royal palace, she hurried into +the bride’s chamber, put off the magnificent clothes and the jewels, +dressed herself in her gray gown, and kept nothing but the jewel on her +neck, which she had received from the bridegroom. + +When the night came, and the bride was to be led into the prince’s +apartment, she let her veil fall over her face, that he might not +observe the deception. As soon as every one had gone away, he said to +her, “What didst thou say to the nettle-plant which was growing by the +wayside?” + +“To which nettle-plant?” asked she; “I don’t talk to nettle-plants.” +“If thou didst not do it, then thou art not the true bride,” said he. +So she bethought herself, and said, + +“I must go out unto my maid, +Who keeps my thoughts for me.” + + +She went out and sought Maid Maleen. “Girl, what hast thou been saying +to the nettle?” “I said nothing but, + +“Oh, nettle-plant, +Little nettle-plant, +What dost thou here alone? +I have known the time +When I ate thee unboiled, +When I ate thee unroasted.” + + +The bride ran back into the chamber, and said, “I know now what I said +to the nettle,” and she repeated the words which she had just heard. +“But what didst thou say to the foot-bridge when we went over it?” +asked the King’s son. “To the foot-bridge?” she answered. “I don’t talk +to foot-bridges.” “Then thou art not the true bride.” + +She again said, + +“I must go out unto my maid, +Who keeps my thoughts for me,” + + +And ran out and found Maid Maleen, “Girl, what didst thou say to the +foot-bridge?” + +“I said nothing but, + +“Foot-bridge, do not break, +I am not the true bride.” + + +“That costs thee thy life!” cried the bride, but she hurried into the +room, and said, “I know now what I said to the foot-bridge,” and she +repeated the words. “But what didst thou say to the church-door?” “To +the church-door?” she replied; “I don’t talk to church-doors.” “Then +thou art not the true bride.” + +She went out and found Maid Maleen, and said, “Girl, what didst thou +say to the church-door?” + +“I said nothing but, + +“Church-door, break not, +I am not the true bride.” + + +“That will break thy neck for thee!” cried the bride, and flew into a +terrible passion, but she hastened back into the room, and said, “I +know now what I said to the church-door,” and she repeated the words. +“But where hast thou the jewel which I gave thee at the church-door?” +“What jewel?” she answered; “thou didst not give me any jewel.” “I +myself put it round thy neck, and I myself fastened it; if thou dost +not know that, thou art not the true bride.” He drew the veil from her +face, and when he saw her immeasurable ugliness, he sprang back +terrified, and said, “How comest thou here? Who art thou?” “I am thy +betrothed bride, but because I feared lest the people should mock me +when they saw me out of doors, I commanded the scullery-maid to dress +herself in my clothes, and to go to church instead of me.” “Where is +the girl?” said he; “I want to see her, go and bring her here.” She +went out and told the servants that the scullery-maid was an impostor, +and that they must take her out into the court-yard and strike off her +head. The servants laid hold of Maid Maleen and wanted to drag her out, +but she screamed so loudly for help, that the King’s son heard her +voice, hurried out of his chamber and ordered them to set the maiden +free instantly. Lights were brought, and then he saw on her neck the +gold chain which he had given her at the church-door. “Thou art the +true bride,” said he, “who went with me to the church; come with me now +to my room.” When they were both alone, he said, “On the way to church +thou didst name Maid Maleen, who was my betrothed bride; if I could +believe it possible, I should think she was standing before me thou art +like her in every respect.” She answered, “I am Maid Maleen, who for +thy sake was imprisoned seven years in the darkness, who suffered +hunger and thirst, and has lived so long in want and poverty. To-day, +however, the sun is shining on me once more. I was married to thee in +the church, and I am thy lawful wife.” Then they kissed each other, and +were happy all the days of their lives. The false bride was rewarded +for what she had done by having her head cut off. + +The tower in which Maid Maleen had been imprisoned remained standing +for a long time, and when the children passed by it they sang, + +“Kling, klang, gloria. +Who sits within this tower? +A King’s daughter, she sits within, +A sight of her I cannot win, +The wall it will not break, +The stone cannot be pierced. +Little Hans, with your coat so gay, +Follow me, follow me, fast as you may.” + + + +199 The Boots of Buffalo-Leather + +A soldier who is afraid of nothing, troubles himself about nothing. One +of this kind had received his discharge, and as he had learnt no trade +and could earn nothing, he travelled about and begged alms of kind +people. He had an old waterproof on his back, and a pair of +riding-boots of buffalo-leather which were still left to him. One day +he was walking he knew not where, straight out into the open country, +and at length came to a forest. He did not know where he was, but saw +sitting on the trunk of a tree, which had been cut down, a man who was +well dressed and wore a green shooting-coat. The soldier shook hands +with him, sat down on the grass by his side, and stretched out his +legs. “I see thou hast good boots on, which are well blacked,” said he +to the huntsman; “but if thou hadst to travel about as I have, they +would not last long. Look at mine, they are of buffalo-leather, and +have been worn for a long time, but in them I can go through thick and +thin.” After a while the soldier got up and said, “I can stay no +longer, hunger drives me onwards; but, Brother Bright-boots, where does +this road lead to?” “I don’t know that myself,” answered the huntsman, +“I have lost my way in the forest.” “Then thou art in the same plight +as I,” said the soldier; “birds of a feather flock together, let us +remain together, and seek our way.” The huntsman smiled a little, and +they walked on further and further, until night fell. “We do not get +out of the forest,” said the soldier, “but there in the distance I see +a light shining, which will help us to something to eat.” They found a +stone house, knocked at the door, and an old woman opened it. “We are +looking for quarters for the night,” said the soldier, “and some lining +for our stomachs, for mine is as empty as an old knapsack.” “You cannot +stay here,” answered the old woman; “this is a robber’s house, and you +would do wisely to get away before they come home, or you will be +lost.” “It won’t be so bad as that,” answered the soldier, “I have not +had a mouthful for two days, and whether I am murdered here or die of +hunger in the forest is all the same to me. I shall go in.” The +huntsman would not follow, but the soldier drew him in with him by the +sleeve. “Come, my dear brother, we shall not come to an end so quickly +as that!” The old woman had pity on them and said, “Creep in here +behind the stove, and if they leave anything, I will give it to you on +the sly when they are asleep.” Scarcely were they in the corner before +twelve robbers came bursting in, seated themselves at the table which +was already laid, and vehemently demanded some food. The old woman +brought in some great dishes of roast meat, and the robbers enjoyed +that thoroughly. When the smell of the food ascended the nostrils of +the soldier, he said to the huntsman, “I cannot hold out any longer, I +shall seat myself at the table, and eat with them.” “Thou wilt bring us +to destruction,” said the huntsman, and held him back by the arm. But +the soldier began to cough loudly. When the robbers heard that, they +threw away their knives and forks, leapt up, and discovered the two who +were behind the stove. “Aha, gentlemen, are you in the corner?” cried +they, “What are you doing here? Have you been sent as spies? Wait a +while, and you shall learn how to fly on a dry bough.” “But do be +civil,” said the soldier, “I am hungry, give me something to eat, and +then you can do what you like with me.” The robbers were astonished, +and the captain said, “I see that thou hast no fear; well, thou shalt +have some food, but after that thou must die.” “We shall see,” said the +soldier, and seated himself at the table, and began to cut away +valiantly at the roast meat. “Brother Brightboots, come and eat,” cried +he to the huntsman; “thou must be as hungry as I am, and cannot have +better roast meat at home,” but the huntsman would not eat. The robbers +looked at the soldier in astonishment, and said, “The rascal uses no +ceremony.” After a while he said, “I have had enough food, now get me +something good to drink.” The captain was in the mood to humour him in +this also, and called to the old woman, “Bring a bottle out of the +cellar, and mind it be of the best.” The soldier drew the cork out with +a loud noise, and then went with the bottle to the huntsman and said, +“Pay attention, brother, and thou shalt see something that will +surprise thee; I am now going to drink the health of the whole clan.” +Then he brandished the bottle over the heads of the robbers, and cried, +“Long life to you all, but with your mouths open and your right hands +lifted up,” and then he drank a hearty draught. Scarcely were the words +said than they all sat motionless as if made of stone, and their mouths +were open and their right hands stretched up in the air. The huntsman +said to the soldier, “I see that thou art acquainted with tricks of +another kind, but now come and let us go home.” “Oho, my dear brother, +but that would be marching away far too soon; we have conquered the +enemy, and must first take the booty. Those men there are sitting fast, +and are opening their mouths with astonishment, but they will not be +allowed to move until I permit them. Come, eat and drink.” The old +woman had to bring another bottle of the best wine, and the soldier +would not stir until he had eaten enough to last for three days. At +last when day came, he said, “Now it is time to strike our tents, and +that our march may be a short one, the old woman shall show us the +nearest way to the town.” When they had arrived there, he went to his +old comrades, and said, “Out in the forest I have found a nest full of +gallows’ birds, come with me and we will take it.” The soldier led +them, and said to the huntsman, “Thou must go back again with me to see +how they shake when we seize them by the feet.” He placed the men round +about the robbers, and then he took the bottle, drank a mouthful, +brandished it above them, and cried, “Live again.” Instantly they all +regained the power of movement, but were thrown down and bound hand and +foot with cords. Then the soldier ordered them to be thrown into a cart +as if they had been so many sacks, and said, “Now drive them straight +to prison.” The huntsman, however, took one of the men aside and gave +him another commission besides. “Brother Bright-boots,” said the +soldier, “we have safely routed the enemy and been well fed, now we +will quietly walk behind them as if we were stragglers!” When they +approached the town, the soldier saw a crowd of people pouring through +the gate of the town who were raising loud cries of joy, and waving +green boughs in the air. Then he saw that the entire body-guard was +coming up. “What can this mean?” said he to the huntsman. “Dost thou +not know?” he replied, “that the King has for a long time been absent +from his kingdom, and that to-day he is returning, and every one is +going to meet him.” “But where is the King?” said the soldier, “I do +not see him.” “Here he is,” answered the huntsman, “I am the King, and +have announced my arrival.” Then he opened his hunting-coat, and his +royal garments were visible. The soldier was alarmed, and fell on his +knees and begged him to forgive him for having in his ignorance treated +him as an equal, and spoken to him by such a name. But the King shook +hands with him, and said, “Thou art a brave soldier, and hast saved my +life. Thou shalt never again be in want, I will take care of thee. And +if ever thou wouldst like to eat a piece of roast meat, as good as that +in the robber’s house, come to the royal kitchen. But if thou wouldst +drink a health, thou must first ask my permission.” + + + +200 The Golden Key + +In the winter time, when deep snow lay on the ground, a poor boy was +forced to go out on a sledge to fetch wood. When he had gathered it +together, and packed it, he wished, as he was so frozen with cold, not +to go home at once, but to light a fire and warm himself a little. So +he scraped away the snow, and as he was thus clearing the ground, he +found a tiny, gold key. Hereupon he thought that where the key was, the +lock must be also, and dug in the ground and found an iron chest. “If +the key does but fit it!” thought he; “no doubt there are precious +things in that little box.” He searched, but no keyhole was there. At +last he discovered one, but so small that it was hardly visible. He +tried it, and the key fitted it exactly. Then he turned it once round, +and now we must wait until he has quite unlocked it and opened the lid, +and then we shall learn what wonderful things were lying in that box. + + + +Children’s Legends + + + +Legend 1 St. Joseph in the Forest + +There was once on a time a mother who had three daughters, the eldest +of whom was rude and wicked, the second much better, although she had +her faults, but the youngest was a pious, good child. The mother was, +however, so strange, that it was just the eldest daughter whom she most +loved, and she could not bear the youngest. On this account, she often +sent the poor girl out into the great forest in order to get rid of +her, for she thought she would lose herself and never come back again. +But the guardian-angel which every good child has, did not forsake her, +but always brought her into the right path again. Once, however, the +guardian-angel behaved as if he were not there, and the child could not +find her way out of the forest again. She walked on constantly until +evening came, and then she saw a tiny light burning in the distance, +ran up to it at once, and came to a little hut. She knocked, the door +opened, and she came to a second door, where she knocked again. An old +man, who had a snow-white beard and looked venerable, opened it for +her; and he was no other than St. Joseph. He said quite kindly, “Come, +dear child, seat thyself on my little chair by the fire, and warm +thyself; I will fetch thee clear water if thou art thirsty; but here in +the forest, I have nothing for thee to eat but a couple of little +roots, which thou must first scrape and boil.” + +St. Joseph gave her the roots. The girl scraped them clean, then she +brought a piece of pancake and the bread that her mother had given her +to take with her; mixed all together in a pan, and cooked herself a +thick soup. When it was ready, St. Joseph said, “I am so hungry; give +me some of thy food.” The child was quite willing, and gave him more +than she kept for herself, but God’s blessing was with her, so that she +was satisfied. When they had eaten, St. Joseph said, “Now we will go to +bed; I have, however, only one bed, lay thyself in it. I will lie on +the ground on the straw.” “No,” answered she, “stay in your own bed, +the straw is soft enough for me.” St. Joseph, however, took the child +in his arms, and carried her into the little bed, and there she said +her prayers, and fell asleep. Next morning when she awoke, she wanted +to say good morning to St. Joseph, but she did not see him. Then she +got up and looked for him, but could not find him anywhere; at last she +perceived, behind the door, a bag with money so heavy that she could +just carry it, and on it was written that it was for the child who had +slept there that night. On this she took the bag, bounded away with it, +and got safely to her mother, and as she gave her mother all the money, +she could not help being satisfied with her. + +The next day, the second child also took a fancy to go into the forest. +Her mother gave her a much larger piece of pancake and bread. It +happened with her just as with the first child. In the evening she came +to St. Joseph’s little hut, who gave her roots for a thick soup. When +it was ready, he likewise said to her, “I am so hungry, give me some of +thy food.” Then the child said, “You may have your share.” Afterwards, +when St. Joseph offered her his bed and wanted to lie on the straw, she +replied, “No, lie down in the bed, there is plenty of room for both of +us.” St. Joseph took her in his arms and put her in the bed, and laid +himself on the straw. + +In the morning when the child awoke and looked for St. Joseph, he had +vanished, but behind the door she found a little sack of money that was +about as long as a hand, and on it was written that it was for the +child who had slept there last night. So she took the little bag and +ran home with it, and took it to her mother, but she secretly kept two +pieces for herself. + +The eldest daughter had by this time grown curious, and the next +morning also insisted on going out into the forest. Her mother gave her +pancakes with her—as many as she wanted, and bread and cheese as well. +In the evening she found St. Joseph in his little hut, just as the two +others had found him. When the soup was ready and St. Joseph said, “I +am so hungry, give me some of thy food,” the girl answered, “Wait until +I am satisfied; then if there is anything left thou shalt have it.” She +ate, however, nearly the whole of it, and St. Joseph had to scrape the +dish. Afterwards, the good old man offered her his bed, and wanted to +lie on the straw. She took it without making any opposition, laid +herself down in the little bed, and left the hard straw to the +white-haired man. Next morning when she awoke, St. Joseph was not to be +found, but she did not trouble herself about that. She looked behind +the door for a money-bag. She fancied something was lying on the +ground, but as she could not very well distinguish what it was, she +stooped down, and examined it closely, but it remained hanging to her +nose, and when she got up again, she saw, to her horror, that it was a +second nose, which was hanging fast to her own. Then she began to +scream and howl, but that did no good; she was forced to see it always +on her nose, for it stretched out so far. Then she ran out and screamed +without stopping till she met St. Joseph, at whose feet she fell and +begged until, out of pity, he took the nose off her again, and even +gave her two farthings. When she got home, her mother was standing +before the door, and asked, “What hast thou had given to thee?” Then +she lied and said, “A great bag of money, but I have lost it on the +way.” “Lost it!” cried the mother, “oh, but we will soon find it +again,” and took her by the hand, and wanted to seek it with her. At +first she began to cry, and did not wish to go, but at last she went. +On the way, however, so many lizards and snakes broke loose on both of +them, that they did not know how to save themselves. At last they stung +the wicked child to death, and they stung the mother in the foot, +because she had not brought her up better. + + + +Legend 2 The Twelve Apostles + +Three hundred years before the birth of the Lord Christ, there lived a +mother who had twelve sons, but was so poor and needy that she no +longer knew how she was to keep them alive at all. She prayed to God +daily that he would grant that all her sons might be on the earth with +the Redeemer who was promised. When her necessity became still greater +she sent one of them after the other out into the world to seek bread +for her. The eldest was called Peter, and he went out and had already +walked a long way, a whole day’s journey, when he came into a great +forest. He sought for a way out, but could find none, and went farther +and farther astray, and at the same time felt such great hunger that he +could scarcely stand. At length he became so weak that he was forced to +lie down, and he believed death to be at hand. Suddenly there stood +beside him a small boy who shone with brightness, and was as beautiful +and kind as an angel. The child smote his little hands together, until +Peter was forced to look up and saw him. Then the child said, “Why art +thou sitting there in such trouble?” “Alas!” answered Peter, “I am +going about the world seeking bread, that I may yet see the dear +Saviour who is promised, that is my greatest desire.” The child said, +“Come with me, and thy wish shall be fulfilled.” He took poor Peter by +the hand, and led him between some cliffs to a great cavern. When they +entered it, everything was shining with gold, silver, and crystal, and +in the midst of it twelve cradles were standing side by side. Then said +the little angel, “Lie down in the first, and sleep a while, I will +rock thee.” Peter did so, and the angel sang to him and rocked him +until he was al seep. And when he was asleep, the second brother came +also, guided thither by his guardian angel, and he was rocked to sleep +like the first, and thus came the others, one after the other, until +all twelve lay there sleeping in the golden cradles. They slept, +however, three hundred years, until the night when the Saviour of the +world was born. Then they awoke, and were with him on earth, and were +called the twelve apostles. + + + +Legend 3 The Rose + +There was once a poor woman who had two children. The youngest had to +go every day into the forest to fetch wood. Once when she had gone a +long way to seek it, a little child, who was quite strong, came and +helped her industriously to pick up the wood and carry it home, and +then before a moment had passed the strange child disappeared. The +child told her mother this, but at first she would not believe it. At +length she brought a rose home, and told her mother that the beautiful +child had given her this rose, and had told her that when it was in +full bloom, he would return. The mother put the rose in water. One +morning her child could not get out of bed, the mother went to the bed +and found her dead, but she lay looking very happy. On the same +morning, the rose was in full bloom. + + + +Legend 4 Poverty and Humility Lead to Heaven + +There was once a King’s son who went out into the world, and he was +full of thought and sad. He looked at the sky, which was so beautifully +pure and blue, then he sighed, and said, “How well must all be with one +up there in heaven!” Then he saw a poor gray-haired man who was coming +along the road towards him, and he spoke to him, and asked, “How can I +get to heaven?” The man answered, “By poverty and humility. Put on my +ragged clothes, wander about the world for seven years, and get to know +what misery is, take no money, but if thou art hungry ask compassionate +hearts for a bit of bread; in this way thou wilt reach heaven.” + +Then the King’s son took off his magnificent coat, and wore in its +place the beggar’s garment, went out into the wide world, and suffered +great misery. He took nothing but a little food, said nothing, but +prayed to the Lord to take him into his heaven. When the seven years +were over, he returned to his father’s palace, but no one recognized +him. He said to the servants, “Go and tell my parents that I have come +back again.” But the servants did not believe it, and laughed and left +him standing there. Then said he, “Go and tell it to my brothers that +they may come down, for I should so like to see them again.” The +servants would not do that either, but at last one of them went, and +told it to the King’s children, but these did not believe it, and did +not trouble themselves about it. Then he wrote a letter to his mother, +and described to her all his misery, but he did not say that he was her +son. So, out of pity, the Queen had a place under the stairs assigned +to him, and food taken to him daily by two servants. But one of them +was ill-natured and said, “Why should the beggar have the good food?” +and kept it for himself, or gave it to the dogs, and took the weak, +wasted-away beggar nothing but water; the other, however, was honest, +and took the beggar what was sent to him. It was little, but he could +live on it for a while, and all the time he was quite patient, but he +grew continually weaker. As, however, his illness increased, he desired +to receive the last sacrament. When the host was being elevated down +below, all the bells in the town and neighbourhood began to ring. After +mass the priest went to the poor man under the stairs, and there he lay +dead. In one hand he had a rose, in the other a lily, and beside him +was a paper in which was written his history. + +When he was buried, a rose grew on one side of his grave, and a lily on +the other. + + + +Legend 5 God’s Food + +There were once upon a time two sisters, one of whom had no children +and was rich, and the other had five and was a widow, and so poor that +she no longer had food enough to satisfy herself and her children. In +her need, therefore, she went to her sister, and said, “My children and +I are suffering the greatest hunger; thou art rich, give me a mouthful +of bread.” The very rich sister was as hard as a stone, and said, “I +myself have nothing in the house,” and drove away the poor creature +with harsh words. After some time the husband of the rich sister came +home, and was just going to cut himself a piece of bread, but when he +made the first cut into the loaf, out flowed red blood. When the woman +saw that she was terrified and told him what had occurred. He hurried +away to help the widow and her children, but when he entered her room, +he found her praying. She had her two youngest children in her arms, +and the three eldest were lying dead. He offered her food, but she +answered, “For earthly food have we no longer any desire. God has +already satisfied the hunger of three of us, and he will hearken to our +supplications likewise.” Scarcely had she uttered these words than the +two little ones drew their last breath, whereupon her heart broke, and +she sank down dead. + + + +Legend 6 The Three Green Twigs + +There was once on a time a hermit who lived in a forest at the foot of +a mountain, and passed his time in prayer and good works, and every +evening he carried, to the glory of God, two pails of water up the +mountain. Many a beast drank of it, and many a plant was refreshed by +it, for on the heights above, a strong wind blew continually, which +dried the air and the ground, and the wild birds which dread mankind +wheel about there, and with their sharp eyes search for a drink. And +because the hermit was so pious, an angel of God, visible to his eyes, +went up with him, counted his steps, and when the work was completed, +brought him his food, even as the prophet of old was by God’s command +fed by the raven. When the hermit in his piety had already reached a +great age, it happened that he once saw from afar a poor sinner being +taken to the gallows. He said carelessly to himself, “There, that one +is getting his deserts!” In the evening, when he was carrying the water +up the mountain, the angel who usually accompanied him did not appear, +and also brought him no food. Then he was terrified, and searched his +heart, and tried to think how he could have sinned, as God was so +angry, but he did not discover it. Then he neither ate nor drank, threw +himself down on the ground, and prayed day and night. And as he was one +day thus bitterly weeping in the forest, he heard a little bird singing +beautifully and delightfully, and then he was still more troubled and +said, “How joyously thou singest, the Lord is not angry with thee. Ah, +if thou couldst but tell me how I can have offended him, that I might +do penance, and then my heart also would be glad again.” Then the bird +began to speak and said, “Thou hast done injustice, in that thou hast +condemned a poor sinner who was being led to the gallows, and for that +the Lord is angry with thee. He alone sits in judgement. However, if +thou wilt do penance and repent thy sins, he will forgive thee.” Then +the angel stood beside him with a dry branch in his hand and said, +“Thou shalt carry this dry branch until three green twigs sprout out of +it, but at night when thou wilt sleep, thou shalt lay it under thy +head. Thou shalt beg thy bread from door to door, and not tarry more +than one night in the same house. That is the penance which the Lord +lays on thee.” + +Then the hermit took the piece of wood, and went back into the world, +which he had not seen for so long. He ate and drank nothing but what +was given him at the doors; many petitions were, however, not listened +to, and many doors remained shut to him, so that he often did not get a +crumb of bread. + +Once when he had gone from door to door from morning till night, and no +one had given him anything, and no one would shelter him for the night, +he went forth into a forest, and at last found a cave which someone had +made, and an old woman was sitting in it. Then said he, “Good woman, +keep me with you in your house for this night;” but she said, “No, I +dare not, even if I wished, I have three sons who are wicked and wild, +if they come home from their robbing expedition, and find you, they +would kill us both.” The hermit said, “Let me stay, they will do no +injury either to you or to me.” and the woman was compassionate, and +let herself be persuaded. Then the man lay down beneath the stairs, and +put the bit of wood under his head. When the old woman saw him do that, +she asked the reason of it, on which he told her that he carried the +bit of wood about with him for a penance, and used it at night for a +pillow, and that he had offended the Lord, because, when he had seen a +poor sinner on the way to the gallows, he had said he was getting his +deserts. Then the woman began to weep and cried, “If the Lord thus +punishes one single word, how will it fare with my sons when they +appear before him in judgment?” + +At midnight the robbers came home and blustered and stormed. They made +a fire, and when it had lighted up the cave and they saw a man lying +under the stairs, they fell in a rage and cried to their mother, “Who +is the man? Have we not forbidden any one whatsoever to be taken in?” +Then said the mother, “Let him alone, it is a poor sinner who is +expiating his crime.” The robbers asked, “What has he done?” “Old man,” +cried they, “tell us thy sins.” The old man raised himself and told +them how he, by one single word, had so sinned that God was angry with +him, and how he was now expiating this crime. The robbers were so +powerfully touched in their hearts by this story, that they were +shocked with their life up to this time, reflected, and began with +hearty repentance to do penance for it. The hermit, after he had +converted the three sinners, lay down to sleep again under the stairs. +In the morning, however, they found him dead, and out of the dry wood +on which his head lay, three green twigs had grown up on high. Thus the +Lord had once more received him into his favour. + + + +Legend 7 Our Lady’s Little Glass + +Once upon a time a waggoner’s cart which was heavily laden with wine +had stuck so fast that in spite of all that he could do, he could not +get it to move again. Then it chanced that Our Lady just happened to +come by that way, and when she perceived the poor man’s distress, she +said to him, “I am tired and thirsty, give me a glass of wine, and I +will set thy cart free for thee.” “Willingly,” answered the waggoner, +“but I have no glass in which I can give thee the wine.” Then Our Lady +plucked a little white flower with red stripes, called field bindweed, +which looks very like a glass, and gave it to the waggoner. He filled +it with wine, and then Our Lady drank it, and in the self-same instant +the cart was set free, and the waggoner could drive onwards. The little +flower is still always called Our Lady’s Little Glass. + + + +Legend 8 The Aged Mother + +In a large town there was an old woman who sat in the evening alone in +her room thinking how she had lost first her husband, then both her +children, then one by one all her relations, and at length, that very +day, her last friend, and now she was quite alone and desolate. She was +very sad at heart, and heaviest of all her losses to her was that of +her sons; and in her pain she blamed God for it. She was still sitting +lost in thought, when all at once she heard the bells ringing for early +prayer. She was surprised that she had thus in her sorrow watched +through the whole night, and lighted her lantern and went to church. It +was already lighted up when she arrived, but not as it usually was with +wax candles, but with a dim light. It was also crowded already with +people, and all the seats were filled; and when the old woman got to +her usual place it also was not empty, but the whole bench was entirely +full. And when she looked at the people, they were none other than her +dead relations who were sitting there in their old-fashioned garments, +but with pale faces. They neither spoke nor sang; but a soft humming +and whispering was heard all over the church. Then an aunt of hers +stood up, stepped forward, and said to the poor old woman, “Look there +beside the altar, and thou wilt see thy sons.” The old woman looked +there, and saw her two children, one hanging on the gallows, the other +bound to the wheel. Then said the aunt, “Behold, so would it have been +with them if they had lived, and if the good God had not taken them to +himself when they were innocent children.” The old woman went trembling +home, and on her knees thanked God for having dealt with her more +kindly than she had been able to understand, and on the third day she +lay down and died. + + + +Legend 9 The Heavenly Wedding + +A poor peasant-boy one day heard the priest say in church that +whosoever desired to enter into the kingdom of heaven must always go +straight onward. So he set out, and walked continually straight onwards +over hill and valley without ever turning aside. At length his way led +him into a great town, and into the midst of a church, where just at +that time God’s service was being performed. Now when he beheld all the +magnificence of this, he thought he had reached heaven, sat down, and +rejoiced with his whole heart. When the service was over, and the clerk +bade him go out, he replied, “No, I will not go out again, I am glad to +be in heaven at last.” So the clerk went to the priest, and told him +that there was a child in the church who would not go out again, +because he believed he was in heaven. The priest said, “If he believes +that, we will leave him inside.” So he went to him, and asked if he had +any inclination to work. “Yes,” the little fellow replied, “I am +accustomed to work, but I will not go out of heaven again.” So he +stayed in the church, and when he saw how the people came and knelt and +prayed to Our Lady with the blessed child Jesus which was carved in +wood, he thought “that is the good God,” and said, “Dear God, how thin +you are! The people must certainly let you starve; but every day I will +give you half my dinner.” From this time forth, he every day took half +his dinner to the image, and the image began to enjoy the food. When a +few weeks had gone by, people remarked that the image was growing +larger and stout and strong, and wondered much. The priest also could +not understand it, but stayed in the church, and followed the little +boy about, and then he saw how he shared his food with the Virgin Mary, +and how she accepted it. + +After some time the boy became ill, and for eight days could not leave +his bed; but as soon as he could get up again, the first thing he did +was to take his food to Our Lady. The priest followed him, and heard +him say, “Dear God, do not take it amiss that I have not brought you +anything for such a long time, for I have been ill and could not get +up.” Then the image answered him and said, “I have seen thy good-will, +and that is enough for me. Next Sunday thou shalt go with me to the +wedding.” The boy rejoiced at this, and repeated it to the priest, who +begged him to go and ask the image if he, too, might be permitted to +go. “No,” answered the image, “thou alone.” The priest wished to +prepare him first, and give him the holy communion and the child was +willing, and next Sunday, when the host came to him, he fell down and +died, and was at the eternal wedding. + + + +Legend 10 The Hazel-Branch + +One afternoon the Christ-child had laid himself in his cradle-bed and +had fallen asleep. Then his mother came to him, looked at him full of +gladness, and said, “Hast thou laid thyself down to sleep, my child? +Sleep sweetly, and in the meantime I will go into the wood, and fetch +thee a handful of strawberries, for I know that thou wilt be pleased +with them when thou awakest.” In the wood outside, she found a spot +with the most beautiful strawberries; but as she was stooping down to +gather one, an adder sprang up out of the grass. She was alarmed, left +the strawberries where they were, and hastened away. The adder darted +after her; but Our Lady, as you can readily understand, knew what it +was best to do. She hid herself behind a hazel-bush, and stood there +until the adder had crept away again. Then she gathered the +strawberries, and as she set out on her way home she said, “As the +hazel-bush has been my protection this time, it shall in future protect +others also.” Therefore, from the most remote times, a green +hazel-branch has been the safest protection against adders, snakes, and +everything else which creeps on the earth. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOUSEHOLD TALES BY BROTHERS GRIMM *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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