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Grimms Household Tales




Household Tales by brothers Grimm, translated by Margaret Hunt

These fairy tales by brothers Grimm are based on the original
1884 translation "Household Tales" of Margaret Hunt.

This text is based on the book
"Grimm's household tales with the author's notes."
By Grimm Jakob Ludwig Karl.
Translated by Margaret Hunt.


This text includes ALL Grimm's fairy tales and 10
children's legends. The Margaret Hunt's translation is
very true to the German original.

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 H¨tlein 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 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 pedler-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 pedler-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 rev