THE FROG KING, OR IRON HENRY
In olden 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 bored 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. At this she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted. And as she thus lamented someone said to her, "What ails you, king's daughter? You weep 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 big, ugly head from the water. "Ah, old water-splasher, is it you," she said, "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 you, but what will you give me if I bring your plaything up again?" "Whatever you will 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 your clothes, your pearls and jewels, nor for your golden crown, but if you will love me and let me be your companion and play-fellow, and sit by you at your little table, and eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of your little cup, and sleep in your little bed - if you will promise me this I will go down below, and bring you your golden ball up again."
"Oh yes," said she, "I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring me my ball back again." But she thought, "How the silly frog does talk. All he does is to sit in the water with the other frogs, and croak. He 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 swimming 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 you. I can't run as you can." 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 are you so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to carry you away?" "Ah, no," replied she. "It is no giant but a disgusting frog."
"What does a frog want with you?" "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, do you not know what you said to me yesterday by the cool waters of the well. Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me."
Then said the king, "That which you have promised must you 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 you." She delayed, until at last the king commanded her to do it. Once the frog was on the chair he wanted to be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, "Now, push your 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 your little room and make your 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 you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards to be despised by you." 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 you, lift me up or I will tell your father." At this she was terribly angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the wall. "Now, will you be quiet, odious frog," said she. But when he fell down he was no frog but a king's son with kind and beautiful 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.
--The End--
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 began to look pale and miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, what ails you, dear wife. Ah, she replied, if I can't eat some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall die.
The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, 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 greedily. It tasted so good to her - so very good, 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 can you dare, said she with angry look, descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief. You shall 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 you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your 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 under 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 your hair to me.
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 your 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 too will 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 your 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 you, but I do not know how to get down.
Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your 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.
You wicked child, cried the enchantress. What do I hear you say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have 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 that she cast out rapunzel, however, the enchantress 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 your hair, she let the hair down.
The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his dearest rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks. Aha, she cried mockingly, you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well.
Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again. 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 naught 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.
--The End
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 your father that I would like to marry him, and then you shall wash yourself 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 bid, 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 her step-daughter's bitterest enemy, 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 tear it off my body. Will you contradict me, said the step-mother. See that you go, and do not show your face again until you have the basketful of strawberries. Then she gave her a little piece of hard bread, and said, this will last you the day, and thought, you will die of cold and hunger outside, and will 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 little men. 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 little men said, give us some of it, too.
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 you, and what are you 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, will you 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. But, 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 sweat. 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. Then he asked what that could be, but the old woman said that she had got that from the violent sweat, 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, you have pronounced your 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.
--The End--
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 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 father-land 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 do you know what you 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 splendor.
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. As the day came when the corpse was to be buried, he was taken down with it into the royal vault 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, you shall 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 fitted, 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 colored it again. Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and said, ah, God, where am I. You are 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 you. Who knows in what trouble they may yet be of service to us.
But a change had 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 you so to my father that he will marry me to you, and make you 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 sailed so swiftly that they reached the old king before the others. He was astonished when he saw them come alone, and asked what had happened to them.
The king said, there is no mercy. He was ready to die with you and restored you to life again, but you have murdered him in his sleep, and shall receive the reward that you deserve. 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
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.
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 seeks 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, before his eyes, 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, tomorrow 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.
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 anyone 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 child of good fortune, 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 undesired 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 halt 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 asked the mill-folk if the tall youth were 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 child of good fortune 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 hardhearted 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 child of good fortune, and as the youth was handsome and friendly 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 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 child of good fortune answered, I will fetch the golden hairs, I am not afraid of the devil. Whereupon 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 child of good fortune. Then you can do us a favor, 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 favor 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 cross. The ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I know everything, answered he. Then you can do me a favor, 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 ferryman must always be going backwards and forwards, and is never set free. Those are difficult questions, answered she, but just 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 told her she should louse him a little. It was not long before 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 beside 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 dreamt 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.
The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and snored so that 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 it they would have golden apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither altogether. But I have had enough of your dreams, if you disturb me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.
The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once more until he fell asleep 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 again and said, who can help bad dreams. What was the dream, then, asked he, and was quite curious. I dreamt of a ferryman 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 anyone 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 devil 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 child of good fortune 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 ferryman he was expected to give the promised answer. Ferry me across first, said the child of good fortune, 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 anyone 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.
Finally, 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 child of good fortune 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 ferryman 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 ferryman to put him across. The ferryman came and bade him get in, and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his hand and sprang over. 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.
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 on to anything. 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.
What, said the man, you are not very bright. He has not a tooth left in his head, and not a thief is afraid of him, now he can go. 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. Listen, 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 make himself scarce, 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 at the appointed place, 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, one of his ears was sticking out. 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.
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 anyone 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 stepmother 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 someone 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 your 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 swans, 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 you cannot abide, they said to her. This is a shelter for robbers, if they come home and find you, they will kill you. 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 swans, 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 you may neither speak nor laugh, and in that time you must sew together six little shirts of starwort for us. And if one single word falls from your lips, all your 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 anyone, 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 are you. But she made no answer. Come down to us, said they. We will not do you 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 are you. What are you 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 anyone 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 mother-in-law 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 carried out, 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 they were touched by them, their swans, 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 you 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 mother-in-law was bound to the stake, and burnt to ashes. But the king and the queen with her six brothers lived many years in happiness and peace
THE GOLDEN GOOSE
There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called Dummling, and was despised, mocked, and sneered at on every occasion.
It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood, and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a bottle of wine in order that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst.
When he entered the forest he met a little grey-haired old man who bade him good-day, and said, do give me a piece of cake out of your pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine, I am so hungry and thirsty. But the clever son answered, if I give you my cake and wine, I shall have none for myself, be off with you, and he left the little man standing and went on.
But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he made a false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that he had to go home and have it bound up. And this was the little grey man's doing.
After this the second son went into the forest, and his mother gave him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine. The little old grey man met him likewise, and asked him for a piece of cake and a drink of wine. But the second son, too, said sensibly enough, what I give you will be taken away from myself, be off, and he left the little man standing and went on. His punishment, however, was not delayed, when he had made a few blows at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so that he had to be carried home.
Then Dummling said, father, do let me go and cut wood. The father answered, your brothers have hurt themselves with it, leave it alone, you do not understand anything about it. But Dummling begged so long that at last he said, just go then, you will get wiser by hurting yourself. His mother gave him a cake made with water and baked in the cinders, and with it a bottle of sour beer.
When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him likewise, and greeting him, said, give me a piece of your cake and a drink out of your bottle, I am so hungry and thirsty.
Dummling answered, I have only cinder-cake and sour beer, if that pleases you, we will sit down and eat. So they sat down, and when Dummling pulled out his cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake, and the sour beer had become good wine. So they ate and drank, and after that the little man said, since you have a good heart, and are willing to divide what you have, I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut it down, and you will find something at the roots. Then the little man took leave of him.
Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a goose sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He lifted her up, and taking her with him, went to an inn where he thought he would stay the night. Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose and were curious to know what such a wonderful bird might be, and would have liked to have one of its golden feathers.
The eldest thought, I shall soon find an opportunity of pulling out a feather, and as soon as Dummling had gone out she seized the goose by the wing, but her finger and hand remained sticking fast to it.
The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she might get a feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched her sister than she was held fast.
At last the third also came with the like intent, and the others screamed out, keep away, for goodness, sake keep away. But she did not understand why she was to keep away. The others are there, she thought, I may as well be there too, and ran to them, but as soon as she had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her. So they had to spend the night with the goose.
The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and set out, without troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on to it. They were obliged to run after him continually, now left, now right, wherever his legs took him.
In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he saw the procession he said, for shame, you good-for-nothing girls, why are you running across the fields after this young man. Is that seemly? At the same time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull her away, but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck fast, and was himself obliged to run behind.
Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the parson, running behind three girls. He was astonished at this and called out, hi, your reverence, whither away so quickly. Do not forget that we have a christening to-day, and running after him he took him by the sleeve, but was also held fast to it. Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other, two laborers came with their hoes from the fields, the parson called out to them and begged that they would set him and the sexton free. But they had scarcely touched the sexton when they were held fast, and now there were seven of them running behind Dummling and the goose.
Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had a daughter who was so serious that no one could make her laugh. So he had put forth a decree that whosoever should be able to make her laugh should marry her. When Dummling heard this, he went with his goose and all her train before the king's daughter, and as soon as she saw the seven people running on and on, one behind the other, she began to laugh quite loudly, and as if she would never stop.
Thereupon Dummling asked to have her for his wife, but the king did not like the son-in-law, and made all manner of excuses and said he must first produce a man who could drink a cellarful of wine.
Dummling thought of the little grey man, who could certainly help him, so he went into the forest, and in the same place where he had felled the tree, he saw a man sitting, who had a very sorrowful face. Dummling asked him what he was taking to heart so sorely, and he answered, I have such a great thirst and cannot quench it, cold water I cannot stand, a barrel of wine I have just emptied, but that to me is like a drop on a hot stone.
There, I can help you, said Dummling, just come with me and you shall be satisfied.
He led him into the king's cellar, and the man bent over the huge barrels, and drank and drank till his loins hurt, and before the day was out he had emptied all the barrels. Then Dummling asked once more for his bride, but the king was vexed that such an ugly fellow, whom everyone called Dummling, should take away his daughter, and he made a new condition, he must first find a man who could eat a whole mountain of bread. Dummling did not think long, but went straight into the forest, where in the same place there sat a man who was tying up his body with a strap, and making an awful face, and saying, I have eaten a whole ovenful of rolls, but what good is that when one has such a hunger as I. My stomach remains empty, and I must tie myself up if I am not to die of hunger.
At this Dummling was glad, and said, get up and come with me, you shall eat yourself full. He led him to the king's palace, where all the flour in the whole kingdom was collected, and from it he caused a huge mountain of bread to be baked. The man from the forest stood before it, began to eat, and by the end of one day the whole mountain had vanished. Then Dummling for the third time asked for his bride, but the king again sought a way out, and ordered a ship which could sail on land and on water. As soon as you come sailing back in it, said he, you shall have my daughter for wife.
Dummling went straight into the forest, and there sat the little grey man to whom he had given his cake. When he heard what Dummling wanted, he said, since you have given me to eat and to drink, I will give you the ship, and I do all this because you once were kind to me. Then he gave him the ship which could sail on land and water, and when the king saw that, he could no longer prevent him from having his daughter. The wedding was celebrated, and after the king's death, Dummling inherited his kingdom and lived for a long time contentedly with his wife.
RUMPELSTILTSKIN
Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the king, and in order to make himself appear important he said to him, I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold. The king said to the miller, that is an art which pleases me well, if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring her to-morrow to my palace, and I will put her to the test.
And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun this straw into gold during the night, you must die. Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller's daughter, and for the life of her could not tell what to do, she had no idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew more and more frightened, until at last she began to weep.
But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man, and said, good evening, mistress miller, why are you crying so. Alas, answered the girl, I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it. What will you give me, said the manikin, if I do it for you. My necklace, said the girl. The little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was full, then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times round, and the second was full too. And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels were full of gold.
By daybreak the king was already there, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller's daughter taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued her life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door opened again, and the little man appeared, and said, what will you give me if I spin that straw into gold for you. The ring on my finger, answered the girl. The little man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough, and he had the miller's daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, you must spin this, too, in the course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall be my wife.
Even if she be a miller's daughter, thought he, I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.
When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third time, and said, what will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time also. I have nothing left that I could give, answered the girl.
Then promise me, if you should become queen, to give me your first child. Who knows whether that will ever happen, thought the miller's daughter, and, not knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more spun the straw into gold.
And when the king came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller's daughter became a queen.
A year after, she brought a beautiful child into the world, and she never gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, now give me what you promised.
The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the manikin said, no, something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world. Then the queen began to lament and cry, so that the manikin pitied her. I will give you three days, time, said he, if by that time you find out my name, then shall you keep your child.
So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be. When the manikin came the next day, she began with caspar, melchior, balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one after another, but to every one the little man said, that is not my name. On the second day she had inquiries made in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. Perhaps your name is shortribs, or sheepshanks, or laceleg, but he always answered, that is not my name.
On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, I have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there I saw a little house, and before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was jumping, he hopped upon one leg, and shouted - to-day I bake, to-morrow brew, the next I'll have the young queen's child. Ha, glad am I that no one knew that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.
You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the name. And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and asked, now, mistress queen, what is my name, at first she said, is your name Conrad? No. Is your name Harry? No. Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?
The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that, cried the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two.
THE BRIGHT SUN BRINGS IT TO LIGHT
A tailor's apprentice was traveling about the world in search of work, and at one time he could find none, and his poverty was so great that he had not a farthing to live on. Presently he met a Jew on the road, and as he thought he would have a great deal of money about him, the tailor thrust God out of his heart, fell on the Jew, and said, give me your money, or I will strike you dead. Then said the Jew, grant me my life, I have no money but eight farthings. But the tailor said, money you have, and it shall be produced, and used violence and beat him until he was near death. And when the Jew was dying, the last words he said were, the bright sun will bring it to light, and thereupon he died. The tailor's apprentice felt in his pockets and sought for money, but he found nothing but eight farthings, as the Jew had said. Then he took him up and carried him behind a clump of trees, and went onwards to seek work. After he had traveled about a long while, he found work in a town with a master who had a pretty daughter, with whom he fell in love, and he married her, and lived in good and happy wedlock.
After a long time when he and his wife had two children, the wife's father and mother died, and the young people kept house alone. One morning, when the husband was sitting on the table before the window, his wife brought him his coffee, and when he had poured it out into the saucer, and was just going to drink, the sun shone on it and the reflection gleamed hither and thither on the wall above, and made circles on it. Then the tailor looked up and said, yes, it would like very much to bring it to light, and cannot. The woman said, o, dear husband, and what is that, then. What do you mean by that. He answered, I must not tell you. But she said, if you love me, you must tell me, and used her most affectionate words, and said that no one should ever know it, and left him no rest. Then he told her how years ago, when he was traveling about seeking work and quite worn out and penniless, he had killed a Jew, and that in the last agonies of death, the Jew had spoken the words, the bright sun will bring it to light. And now, the sun had just wanted to bring it to light, and had gleamed and made circles on the wall, but had not been able to do it. After this, he again charged her particularly never to tell this, or he would lose his life, and she did promise. However, when he had sat down to work again, she went to her great friend and confided the story to her, and asked her never to repeat it to any human being, but before three days were over, the whole town knew it, and the tailor was brought to trial, and condemned. And thus, after all, the bright sun did bring it to light.
THE TWO TRAVELLERS
Hill and vale do not meet, but the children of men do, good and bad. In this way a shoemaker and a tailor once met on their travels. The tailor was a handsome little fellow who was always merry and full of enjoyment. He saw the shoemaker coming towards him from the other side, and as he observed by his bag what kind of a trade he plied, he sang a little mocking song to him, sew me the seam, draw me the thread, spread it over with pitch, knock the nail on the head.
The shoemaker, however, could not bear a joke, he pulled a face as if he had drunk vinegar, and made a gesture as if he were about to seize the tailor by the throat. But the little fellow began to laugh, reached him his bottle, and said, "No harm was meant, take a drink, and swallow your anger down." The shoemaker took a very hearty drink, and the storm on his face began to clear away. He gave the bottle back to the tailor, and said, "I took a hearty gulp, they say it comes from much drinking, but not from great thirst. Shall we travel together?" "All right," answered the tailor, "if only it suits you to go into a big town where there is no lack of work." "That is just where I want to go," answered the shoemaker. "In a small hamlet there is nothing to earn, and in the country, people like to go barefoot." They traveled therefore onwards together, and always set one foot before the other like a weasel in the snow.
Both of them had time enough, but little to bite and to break. When they reached a town they went about and paid their respects to the tradesmen, and because the tailor looked so lively and merry, and had such fine red cheeks, every one gave him work willingly, and when luck was good the master's daughters gave him a kiss beneath the porch, as well. When he again fell in with the shoemaker, the tailor had always the most in his bundle. The ill-tempered shoemaker made a wry face, and thought, the greater the rascal the more the luck. But the tailor began to laugh and to sing, and shared all he got with his comrade. If a couple of pence jingled in his pockets, he ordered good cheer, and thumped the table in his joy till the glasses danced and it was lightly come, lightly go, with him.
When they had traveled for some time, they came to a great forest through which passed the road to the capital. Two foot-paths, however, led through it, one of which was a seven days, journey and the other only two, but neither of the travelers knew which way was the short one. They seated themselves beneath an oak-tree, and took counsel together how they should forecast, and for how many days they should provide themselves with bread.
The shoemaker said, "One must look before one leaps, I will take with me bread for a week." "What," said the tailor, "drag bread for seven days on one's back like a beast of burden and not be able to look about? I shall trust in God, and not trouble myself about anything. The money I have in my pocket is as good in summer as in winter, but in hot weather bread gets dry, and moldy into the bargain, even my coat does not last as far as it might. Besides, why should we not find the right way? Bread for two days, and that's enough." Each, therefore, bought his own bread, and then they tried their luck in the forest.
It was as quiet there as in a church. No wind stirred, no brook murmured, no bird sang, and through the thickly-leaved branches no sunbeam forced its way. The shoemaker spoke never a word, the bread weighed so heavily on his back that the sweat streamed down his cross and gloomy face. The tailor, however, was quite merry, he jumped about, whistled on a leaf, or sang a song, and thought to himself, God in heaven must be pleased to see me so happy.
This lasted two days, but on the third the forest would not come to an end, and the tailor had eaten up all his bread, so after all his heart sank down a yard deeper. Nevertheless, he did not lose courage, but relied on God and on his luck. On the evening of the third day he lay down hungry under a tree, and rose again next morning hungry still, so also passed the fourth day, and when the shoemaker seated himself on a fallen tree and devoured his dinner the tailor was only a spectator. If he begged for a little piece of bread, the other laughed mockingly, and said, "You have always been so merry, now you can see for once what it is to be sad, the birds which sing too early in the morning are struck by the hawk in the evening." In short, he was pitiless. But on the fifth morning the poor tailor could no longer stand up, and was hardly able to utter one word for weakness, his cheeks were white, and his eyes were red. Then the shoemaker said to him, "I will give you a bit of bread to-day, but in return for it, I will put out your right eye." The unhappy tailor who still wished to save his life, had to submit, he wept once more with both eyes, and then held them out, and the shoemaker, who had a heart of stone, put out his right eye with a sharp knife. The tailor called to remembrance what his mother had formerly said to him when he had been eating secretly in the pantry. Eat what one can, and suffer what one must. When he had consumed his dearly-bought bread, he got on his legs again, forgot his misery and comforted himself with the thought that he could always see enough with one eye.
But on the sixth day, hunger made itself felt again and gnawed him almost to the heart. In the evening he fell down by a tree, and on the seventh morning he could not raise himself up for faintness, and death was close at hand. Then said the shoemaker, "I will show mercy and give you bread once more, but you shall not have it for nothing, I shall put out your other eye for it."
And now the tailor felt how thoughtless his life had been, prayed to God for forgiveness, and said, "Do what you will, I will bear what I must, but remember that our Lord God does not always look on passively, and that an hour will come when the evil deed which you have done to me, and which I have not deserved of you, will be requited. When times were good with me, I shared what I had with you. My trade is of that kind that each stitch must always be exactly like the other. If I no longer have my eyes and can sew no more I must go a-begging. At any rate do not leave me here alone when I am blind, or I shall die of hunger." The shoemaker, however, who had driven God out of his heart, took the knife and put out his left eye. Then he gave him a bit of bread to eat, held out a stick to him, and drew him on behind him.
When the sun went down, they got out of the forest, and before them in the open country stood the gallows. Thither the shoemaker guided the blind tailor, and then left him alone and went his way. Weariness, pain, and hunger made the wretched man fall asleep, and he slept the whole night. When day dawned he awoke, but knew not where he lay. Two poor sinners were hanging on the gallows, and a crow sat on the head of each of them. Then one of the men who had been hanged began to speak, and said, "Brother, are you awake?" "Yes, I am awake," answered the second. "Then I will tell you something," said the first, "the dew which this night has fallen down over us from the gallows, gives every one who washes himself with it his eyes again. If blind people did but know this, how many would regain their sight who do not believe that to be possible."
When the tailor heard that, he took his pocket-handkerchief, pressed it on the grass, and when it was moist with dew, washed the sockets of his eyes with it. Immediately was fulfilled what the man on the gallows had said, and a couple of healthy new eyes filled the sockets. It was not long before the tailor saw the sun rise behind the mountains, in the plain before him lay the great royal city with its magnificent gates and hundred towers, and the golden balls and crosses which were on the spires began to shine. He could distinguish every leaf on the trees, saw the birds which flew past, and the midges which danced in the air. He took a needle out of his pocket, and as he could thread it as well as ever he had done, his heart danced with delight. He threw himself on his knees, thanked God for the mercy he had shown him, and said his morning prayer. Nor did he forget to pray for the poor sinners who were hanging there swinging against each other in the wind like the pendulums of clocks. Then he took his bundle on his back and soon forgot the pain of heart he had endured, and went on his way singing and whistling.
The first thing he met was a brown foal running about the fields at large. He caught it by the mane, and wanted to spring on it and ride into the town. The foal, however, begged to be set free. "I am still too young," it said, "even a light tailor such as you are would break my back in two - let me go till I have grown strong. A time may perhaps come when I may reward you for it." "Run off," said the tailor, "I see you are still a giddy thing." He gave it a touch with a switch over its back, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy, leapt over hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open country.
But the little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. The sun to be sure fills my eyes, said he, but the bread does not fill my mouth. The first thing that comes my way and is even half edible will have to suffer for it. In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly over the meadow towards him. "Halt, halt," cried the tailor, and seized him by the leg. "I don't know if you are good to eat or not, but my hunger leaves me no great choice. I must cut your head off, and roast you." "Don't do that," replied the stork, "I am a sacred bird which brings mankind great profit, and no one does me an injury. Leave me my life, and I may do you good in some other way." "Well, be off, cousin longlegs," said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang down, and flew gently away.
"What's to be the end of this," said the tailor to himself at last, "my hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost." At this point he saw a couple of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards him. "You come just at the right moment," said he, and laid hold of one of them and was about to wring its neck. On this an old duck which was hidden among the reeds, began to scream loudly, and swam to him with open beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear children. "Can you not imagine," said she, "how your mother would mourn if any one wanted to carry you off, and give you your finishing stroke." "Just be quiet," said the good-tempered tailor, "you shall keep your children," and put the prisoner back into the water.
When he turned round, he was standing in front of an old tree which was partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it. "There I shall at once find the reward of my good deed," said the tailor, "the honey will refresh me." But the queen-bee came out, threatened him and said, "If you touch my people and destroy my nest, our stings shall pierce your skin like ten thousand red-hot needles. But if you leave us in peace and go your way, we will do you a service for it another time."
The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. Three dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner. He dragged himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town, and as it was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn, and he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied he said, "Now I will get to work." He went round the town, sought a master, and soon found a good situation. And as he had thoroughly learnt his trade, it was not long before he became famous, and every one wanted to have his new coat made by the little tailor, whose importance increased daily. "I can go no further in skill," said he, "and yet things improve every day." At last the king appointed him court-tailor.
But what odd things do happen in the world. On the very same day his former comrade the shoemaker also became court-shoemaker. When the latter caught sight of the tailor, and saw that he had once more two healthy eyes, his conscience troubled him. "Before he takes revenge on me," thought he to himself, "I must dig a pit for him." He, however, who digs a pit for another, falls into it himself. In the evening when work was over and it had grown dusk, he stole to the king and said, "Lord king, the tailor is an arrogant fellow and has boasted that he will get the golden crown back again which was lost in ancient times." "That would please me very much," said the king, and he caused the tailor to be brought before him next morning, and ordered him to get the crown back again, or to leave the town for ever. "Oho," thought the tailor, "a rogue gives more than he has got. If the surly king wants me to do what can be done by no one, I will not wait till morning, but will go out of the town at once, to-day."
He packed up his bundle, therefore, but when he was without the gate he could not help being sorry to give up his good fortune, and turn his back on the town in which all had gone so well with him. He came to the pond where he had made the acquaintance of the ducks, at that very moment the old one whose young ones he had spared, was sitting there by the shore, pluming herself with her beak. She knew him again instantly, and asked why he was hanging his head so. "You will not be surprised when you hear what has befallen me," replied the tailor, and told her his fate. "If that be all," said the duck, "we can help you. The crown fell into the water, and it lies down below at the bottom, we will soon bring it up again for you. In the meantime just spread out your handkerchief on the bank." She dived down with her twelve young ones, and in five minutes she was up again and sat with the crown resting on her wings, and the twelve young ones were swimming round about and had put their beaks under it, and were helping to carry it. They swam to the shore and put the crown on the handkerchief. No one can imagine how magnificent the crown was, when the sun shone on it, it gleamed like a hundred thousand carbuncles. The tailor tied his handkerchief together by the four corners, and carried it to the king, who was full of joy, and put a gold chain round the tailor's neck.
When the shoemaker saw that one blow had failed, he contrived a second, and went to the king and said, "Lord king, the tailor has become insolent again, he boasts that he will copy in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that pertains to it, loose or fast, inside and out." The king sent for the tailor and ordered him to copy in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that pertained to it, movable or immovable, within and without, and if he did not succeed in doing this, or if so much as one nail on the wall were wanting, he should be imprisoned for his whole life underground.
The tailor thought, "It gets worse and worse. No one can endure that," and threw his bundle on his back, and went forth. When he came to the hollow tree, he sat down and hung his head. The bees came flying out, and the queen-bee asked him if he had a stiff neck, since he hung his head so. "Alas, no," answered the tailor, "something quite different weighs me down," and he told her what the king had demanded of him. The bees began to buzz and hum amongst themselves, and the queen-bee said, "Just go home again, but come back to-morrow at this time, and bring a large sheet with you, and then all will be well." So he turned back again, but the bees flew to the royal palace and straight into it through the open windows, crept round about into every corner, and inspected everything most carefully. Then they hurried back and modelled the palace in wax with such rapidity that any one looking on would have thought it was growing before his eyes. By the evening all was ready, and when the tailor came next morning, the whole of the splendid building was there, and not one nail in the wall or tile of the roof was wanting, and it was delicate withal, and white as snow, and smelt sweet as honey. The tailor wrapped it carefully in his cloth and took it to the king, who could not admire it enough, placed it in his largest hall, and in return for it presented the tailor with a large stone house.
The shoemaker, however, did not give up, but went for the third time to the king and said, "Lord king, it has come to the tailor's ears that no water will spring up in the court-yard of the castle and he has boasted that it shall rise up in the midst of the court-yard to a man's height and be clear as crystal." Then the king ordered the tailor to be brought before him and said, "If a stream of water does not rise in my court-yard by to-morrow as you have promised, the executioner shall in that very place make you shorter by a head." The poor tailor did not take long to think about it, but hurried out to the gate, and because this time it was a matter of life and death to him, tears rolled down his face.
While he was thus going forth full of sorrow, the foal to which he had formerly given its liberty, and which had now become a beautiful chestnut horse, came leaping towards him. "The time has come," it said to the tailor, "when I can repay you for your good deed. I know already what is needful to you, but you shall soon have help, get on me, my back can carry two such as you." The tailor's courage came back to him, he jumped up in one bound, and the horse went full speed into the town, and right up to the court-yard of the castle. It galloped as quick as lightning thrice round it, and at the third time it fell violently down. At the same instant, however, there was a terrific clap of thunder, a fragment of earth in the middle of the court-yard sprang like a cannon-ball into the air, and over the castle, and directly after it a jet of water rose as high as a man on horseback, and the water was as pure as crystal, and the sunbeams began to dance on it. When the king saw this, he arose in amazement, and went and embraced the tailor in the sight of all men.
But good fortune did not last long. The king had daughters in plenty, one still prettier than the other, but he had no son. So the malicious shoemaker betook himself for the fourth time to the king, and said, "Lord king, the tailor has not given up his arrogance. He has now boasted that if he liked, he could cause a son to be brought to the lord king through the air." The king commanded the tailor to be summoned, and said, "If you cause a son to be brought to me within nine days, you shall have my eldest daughter to wife." "The reward is indeed great," thought the little tailor, "one would willingly do something for it, but the cherries grow too high for me, if I climb for them, the bough will break beneath me, and I shall fall."
He went home, seated himself cross-legged on his work-table, and thought over what was to be done. "It can't be managed," cried he at last, "I will go away, after all, I can't live in peace here." He tied up his bundle and hurried away to the gate. When he got to the meadow, he perceived his old friend the stork, who was walking backwards and forwards like a philosopher. Sometimes he stood still, took a frog into close consideration, and at length swallowed it down. The stork came to him and greeted him. "I see," he began, "that you have your pack on your back. Why are you leaving the town?" The tailor told him what the king had required of him, and how he could not perform it, and lamented his misfortune.
"Don't let that turn your hair grey," said the stork, "I will help you out of your difficulty. For a long time now, I have carried the children in swaddling-clothes into the town, so for once in a way, I can fetch a little prince out of the well. Go home and be easy. In nine days from this time repair to the royal palace, and there will I come." The little tailor went home, and at the appointed time was at the castle. It was not long before the stork came flying thither and tapped at the window. The tailor opened it, and cousin longlegs came carefully in, and walked with solemn steps over the smooth marble pavement. He had, moreover, a baby in his beak that was as lovely as an angel, and stretched out its little hands to the queen. The stork laid it in her lap, and she caressed it and kissed it, and was beside herself with delight. Before the stork flew away, he took his traveling bag off his back and handed it over to the queen. In it there were little paper parcels with colored sweetmeats, and they were divided amongst the little princesses. The eldest, however, received none of them, but instead got the merry tailor for a husband. "It seems to me," said he, "just as if I had won the highest prize. My mother was if right after all, she always said that whoever trusts in God and only has good luck, can never fail."
The shoemaker had to make the shoes in which the little tailor danced at the wedding festival, after which he was commanded to quit the town for ever. The road to the forest led him to the gallows. Worn out with anger, rage, and the heat of the day, he threw himself down. When he had closed his eyes and was about to sleep, the two crows flew down from the heads of the men who were hanging there, and pecked his eyes out. In his madness he ran into the forest and must have died there of hunger, for no one has ever either seen him or heard of him again.
THE OLD WOMAN IN THE WOOD
A poor servant-girl was once traveling with the family with which she was in service, through a great forest, and when they were in the midst of it, robbers came out of the thicket, and murdered all they found. All perished together except the girl, who had jumped out of the carriage in a fright, and hidden herself behind a tree. When the robbers had gone away with their booty, she came out and beheld the great disaster. Then she began to weep bitterly, and said, "What can a poor girl like me do now? I do not know how to get out of the forest, no human being lives in it, so I must certainly starve."
She walked about and looked for a road, but could find none. When it was evening she seated herself under a tree, gave herself into God's keeping, and resolved to sit waiting there and not go away, let happen what might. When she had sat there for a while, a white dove came flying to her with a little golden key in its beak. It put the little key in her hand, and said, "Do you see that great tree, therein is a little lock, open it with the tiny key, and you will find food enough, and suffer no more hunger."
Then she went to the tree and opened it, and found milk in a little dish, and white bread to break into it, so that she could eat her fill. When she was satisfied, she said, "It is now the time when the hens at home go to roost, I am so tired I could go to bed too." Then the dove flew to her again, and brought another golden key in its bill, and said, "Open that tree there, and you will find a bed." So she opened it, and found a beautiful white bed, and she prayed God to protect her during the night, and lay down and slept.
In the morning the dove came for the third time, and again brought a little key, and said, "Open that tree there, and you will find clothes." And when she opened it, she found garments beset with gold and with jewels, more splendid than those of any king's daughter. So she lived there for some time, and the dove came every day and provided her with all she needed, and it was a quiet good life.
Then one day the dove came and said, "Will you do something for my sake?" "With all my heart," said the girl. Then said the little dove, "I will guide you to a small house, enter it and inside it, an old woman will be sitting by the fire and will say, 'good-day.' But on your life give her no answer, let her do what she will, but pass by her on the right side. Further on, there is a door, which open, and you will enter into a room where a quantity of rings of all kinds are lying, amongst which are some magnificent ones with shining stones. Leave them, however, where they are, and seek out a plain one, which must likewise be amongst them, and bring it here to me as quickly as you can."
The girl went to the little house, and came to the door. There sat an old woman who stared when she saw her, and said, "Good-day my child." The girl gave her no answer, and opened the door. "Whither away?" cried the old woman, and seized her by the gown, and wanted to hold her fast, saying, "That is my house, no one can go in there if I choose not to allow it." But the girl was silent, got away from her, and went straight into the room.
Now there lay on the table an enormous quantity of rings, which gleamed and glittered before her eyes. She turned them over and looked for the plain one, but could not find it. While she was seeking, she saw the old woman and how she was stealing away, and wanting to go off with a bird-cage which she had in her hand. So she went after her and took the cage out of her hand, and when she raised it up and looked into it, a bird was inside which had the plain ring in its bill.
Then she took the ring, and ran quite joyously home with it, and thought the little white dove would come and get the ring, but it did not. Then she leant against a tree, determined to wait for the dove. As she thus stood, it seemed just as if the tree was soft and pliant, and was letting its branches down. And suddenly the branches twined around her, and were two arms, and when she looked around, the tree was a handsome man, who embraced and kissed her heartily, and said, "You have delivered me from the power of the old woman, who is a wicked witch. She had changed me into a tree, and every day for two hours I was a white dove, and so long as she possessed the ring I could not regain my human form." Then his servants and his horses, who had likewise been changed into trees, were freed from the enchanter also, and stood beside him. And he led them forth to his kingdom, for he was a king's son, and they married, and lived happily.
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LITTLE FISH
There were once a little brother and a little sister, who loved each other with all their hearts. Their own mother, however, was dead, and they had a step-mother who was not kind to them, and secretly did everything she could to hurt them. It so happened that the two were playing with other children in a meadow before the house, and there was a pond in the meadow which came up to one side of the house. The children ran about it, and caught each other, and played at counting out. Eneke beneke, let me live, and I to you my bird will give. The little bird, it straw shall seek, the straw I'll give to the cow to eat. The pretty cow shall give me milk, the milk I'll to the baker take. The baker he shall bake a cake, the cake I'll give unto the cat. The cat shall catch some mice for that, the mice I'll hang up in the smoke, and then you'll see the snow. They stood in a circle while they played this, and the one to whom the word snow fell, had to run away and all the others ran after him and caught him. As they were running about so merrily the step-mother watched them from the window, and grew angry.
And as she understood arts of witchcraft she bewitched them both, and changed the little brother into a fish, and the little sister into a lamb. Then the fish swam here and there about the pond and was very sad, and the lambkin walked up and down the meadow, and was miserable, and could not eat or touch one blade of grass. Thus passed a long time, and then strangers came as visitors to the castle. The false step-mother thought, this is a good opportunity, and called the cook and said to him, go and fetch the lamb from the meadow and kill it, we have nothing else for the visitors. Then the cook went away and got the lamb, and took it into the kitchen and tied its feet, and all this it bore patiently. When he had drawn out his knife and was whetting it on the door-step to kill the lamb, he noticed a little fish swimming backwards and forwards in the water, in front of the gutter-stone and looking up at him. This, however, was the brother, for when the fish saw the cook take the lamb away, it followed them and swam along the pond to the house, then the lamb cried down to it, ah, brother, in the pond so deep, how sad is my poor heart. The cook he whets his knife to take away my life. The little fish answered, ah, little sister, up on high how sad is my poor heart while in this pond I lie.
When the cook heard that the lambkin could speak and said such sad words to the fish down below, he was terrified and thought this could be no common lamb, but must be bewitched by the wicked woman in the house. Then said he, be easy, I will not kill you, and took another sheep and made it ready for the guests, and conveyed the lambkin to a good peasant woman, to whom he related all that he had seen and heard. The peasant, however, was the very woman who had been foster-mother to the little sister, and she suspected at once who the lamb was, and went with it to a wise woman. Then the wise woman pronounced a blessing over the lambkin and the little fish, by means of which they regained their human forms, and after this she took them both into a little hut in a great forest, where they lived alone, but were contented and happy.
THE SPARROW AND HIS FOUR CHILDREN
A sparrow had four young ones in a swallow's nest. When they were fledged, some naughty boys pulled out the nest, but fortunately all the birds got safely away in the high wind. Then the old bird was grieved that as his sons had all gone out into the world, he had not first warned them of every kind of danger, and given them good instruction how to deal with each. In the autumn a great many sparrows assembled together in a wheatfield, and there the old bird met his four children again, and full of joy took them home with him. Ah, my dear sons, how I have been worrying about you all through the summer, because you got away in the wind without my teaching. Listen to my words, obey your father, and be well on your guard. Little birds have to encounter great dangers. And then he asked the eldest where he had spent the summer, and how he had supported himself. I stayed in the gardens, and looked for caterpillars and small worms, until the cherries were ripe. Ah, my son, said the father, tit-bits are not bad, but there is great risk about them.
On that account take great care of yourself henceforth, and particularly when people are going about the gardens who carry long green poles which are hollow inside and have a little hole at the top. Yes, father, but what if a little green leaf is stuck over the hole with wax, said the son. Where have you seen that. In a merchant's garden, said the youngster. Oh, my son, merchant folks are smart folks, said the father. If you have been among the children of the world, you have learned worldly craftiness enough, only see that you use it well, and do not be too confident. Then he asked the next, where have you passed your time. At court, said the son. Sparrows and silly little birds are of no use in that place. There one finds much gold, velvet, silk, armor, harnesses, sparrow-hawks, screech-owls and lanners. Keep to the horses, stable where they winnow oats, or thresh, and then fortune may give you your daily grain of corn in peace. Yes, father, said the son, but when the stable-boys make traps and fix their gins and snares in the straw, many a one is caught. Where have you seen that, said the old bird. At court, among the stable-boys. Oh, my son, court boys are bad boys. If you have been to court and among the lords, and have left no feathers there, you have learnt a fair amount, and will know very well how to go about the world, but look around you and above you, for the wolves often devour the wisest dogs.
The father examined the third also, where did you seek your fortune. I have cast my tub and rope on the cart-roads and highways, and sometimes met with a grain of corn or barley. That is indeed dainty fare, said the father, but take care what you are about and look carefully around, especially when you see anyone stooping and about to pick up a stone, for then you have not much time to waste. That is true, said the son, but what if anyone should carry a bit of rock, or ore, ready beforehand in his breast or pocket. Where have you seen that. Among the miners, dear father. When they get out of the pit, they generally take little bits of ore with them. Mining folks are working folks, and clever folks. If you have been among mining lads, you have seen and learnt something, but when you go thither beware, for many a sparrow has been brought to a bad end by a mining boy throwing a piece of cobalt.
At length the father came to the youngest son, you, my dear chirping nestling, were always the silliest and weakest. Stay with me, the world has many rough, wicked birds which have crooked beaks and long claws, and lie in wait for poor little birds and swallow them. Keep with those of your own kind, and pick up little spiders and caterpillars from the trees, or the houses, and then you will live long in peace. My dear father, he who feeds himself without injury to other people fares well, and no sparrow-hawk, eagle, or kite will hurt him if he commits himself and his lawful food, evening and morning, faithfully to God, who is the creator and preserver of all forest and village birds, who likewise heareth the cry and prayer of the young ravens, for no sparrow or wren ever falls to the ground except by his will. Where have you learnt this. The son answered, when the great blast of wind tore me away from you I came to a church, and there during the summer I have picked up the flies and spiders from the windows, and heard this discourse preached. The father of all sparrows fed me all the summer through, and kept me from all misfortune and from ferocious birds. Indeed, my dear son, if you take refuge in the churches and help to clear away spiders and buzzing flies, and chirp unto God like the young ravens, and commend yourself to the eternal creator, all will be well with you, and that even if the whole world were full of wild malicious birds. He who to God commits his ways, in silence suffers, waits, and prays, preserves his faith and conscience pure, he is of God's protection sure.
THE GOOSE-GIRL AT THE WELL
There was once upon a time a very old woman, who lived with her flock of geese in a remote clearing in the mountains, and there had a little house. The clearing was surrounded by a large forest, and every morning the old woman took her crutch and hobbled into it. There, however, she was quite active, more so than any one would have thought, considering her age, and collected grass for her geese, picked all the wild fruit she could reach, and carried everything home on her back. Anyone would have thought that the heavy load would have weighed her to the ground, but she always brought it safely home. If anyone met her, she greeted him quite courteously. Good day, dear countryman, it is a fine day. Ah, you wonder that I should drag grass about, but everyone must take his burden on his back. Nevertheless, people did not like to meet her if they could help it, and took by preference a round-about way, and when a father with his boys passed her, he whispered to them, beware of the old woman. She has claws beneath her gloves. She is a witch.
One morning, a handsome young man was going through the forest. The sun shone bright, the birds sang, a cool breeze crept through the leaves, and he was full of joy and gladness. He had as yet met no one, when he suddenly perceived the old witch kneeling on the ground cutting grass with a sickle. She had already thrust a whole load into her bundle, and near it stood two baskets, which were filled with wild apples and pears. But, good little mother, said he, how can you carry all that away. I must carry it, dear sir, answered she, rich folk's children have no need to do such things, but with the peasant folk the saying goes, don't look behind you, you will only see how crooked your back is. Will you help me, she said, as he remained standing by her. You have still a straight back and young legs, it would be a trifle to you. Besides, my house is not so very far from here, it stands there on the heath behind the hill. How soon you would bound up thither. The young man took compassion on the old woman. My father is certainly no peasant, replied he, but a rich count. Nevertheless, that you may see that it is not only peasants who can carry things, I will take your bundle. If you will try it, said she, I shall be very glad. You will certainly have to walk for an hour, but what will that matter to you, only you must carry the apples and pears as well. The young man felt somewhat uneasy when he heard of an hour's walk, but the old woman would not let him off, packed the bundle on his back, and hung the two baskets on his arm. See, it is quite light, said she. No, it is not light, answered the count, and pulled a rueful face. Verily, the bundle weighs as heavily as if it were full of cobblestones, and the apples and pears are as heavy as lead. I can scarcely breathe. He had a mind to put everything down again, but the old woman would not allow it. Just look, said she mockingly, the young gentleman will not carry what I, an old woman, have so often dragged along. You are ready with fine words, but when it comes to be earnest, you want to take to your heels. Why are you standing loitering there. She continued, step out. No one will take the bundle off again.
As long as he walked on level ground, it was still bearable, but when they came to the hill and had to climb, and the stones rolled down under his feet as if they were alive, it was beyond his strength. Drops of sweat stood on his forehead, and ran, hot and cold, down his back. Mother, said he, I can go no farther. I want to rest a little. Not here, answered the old woman, when we have arrived at our journey's end, you can rest. But now you must go forward. Who knows what good it may do you. Old woman, you are becoming shameless, said the count, and tried to throw off the bundle, but he labored in vain. It stuck as fast to his back as if it grew there. He turned and twisted, but he could not get rid of it.
The old woman laughed at this, and sprang about quite delighted on her crutch. Don't get angry, dear sir, said she, you are growing as red in the face as a turkey-cock. Carry your bundle patiently. I will give you a good present when we get home. What could he do. He was obliged to submit to his fate, and crawl along patiently behind the old woman. She seemed to grow more and more nimble, and his burden still heavier. All at once she made a bound, jumped on to the bundle and seated herself on the top of it. And however withered she might be, she was yet heavier than the stoutest country lass. The youth's knees trembled, but when he did not go on, the old woman hit him about the legs with a switch and with stinging-nettles. Groaning continually, he climbed the mountain, and at length reached the old woman's house, when he was just about to drop. When the geese perceived the old woman, they flapped their wings, stretched out their necks, ran to meet her, cackling all the while.
Behind the flock walked, stick in hand, an old wench, strong and big, but ugly as night. Good mother, said she to the old woman, has anything happened to you, you have stayed away so long. By no means, my dear daughter, answered she, I have met with nothing bad, but, on the contrary, with this kind gentleman, who has carried my burden for me. Only think, he even took me on his back when I was tired. The way, too, has not seemed long to us. We have been merry, and have been cracking jokes with each other all the time.
At last the old woman slid down, took the bundle off the young man's back, and the baskets from his arm, looked at him quite kindly, and said, now seat yourself on the bench before the door, and rest. You have fairly earned your wages, and they shall not be wanting. Then she said to the goose-girl, go into the house, my dear daughter, it is not becoming for you to be alone with a young gentleman. One must not pour oil on to the fire, he might fall in love with you. The count knew not whether to laugh or to cry. Such a sweetheart as that, thought he, could not touch my heart, even if she were thirty years younger.
In the meantime the old woman stroked and fondled her geese as if they were children, and then went into the house with her daughter. The youth lay down on the bench, under a wild apple-tree. The air was warm and mild. On all sides stretched a green meadow, which was set with cowslips, wild thyme, and a thousand other flowers. Through the midst of it rippled a clear brook on which the sun sparkled, and the white geese went walking backwards and forwards, or paddled in the water.
It is quite delightful here, said he, but I am so tired that I cannot keep my eyes open. I will sleep a little. If only a gust of wind does not come and blow my legs off my body, for they are as rotten as tinder. When he had slept a little while, the old woman came and shook him till he awoke. Sit up, said she, you can not stay here. I have certainly treated you ill enough, still it has not cost you your life. Of money and land you have no need, here is something else for you. Thereupon she thrust a little box into his hand, which was cut out of a single emerald. Take great care of it, said she, it will bring you good fortune. The count sprang up, and as he felt that he was quite fresh, and had recovered his vigor, he thanked the old woman for her present, and set off without even once looking back at the beautiful daughter.
When he was already some way off, he still heard in the distance the noisy cry of the geese. For three days the count had to wander in the wilderness before he could find his way out. He then reached a large town, and as no one knew him, he was led into the royal palace, where the king and queen were sitting on their throne. The count fell on one knee, drew the emerald box out of his pocket, and laid it at the queen's feet. She bade him rise and hand her the little box. Hardly, however, had she opened it, and looked therein, than she fell as if dead to the ground. The count was seized by the king's servants, and was being led to prison, when the queen opened her eyes, and ordered them to release him, and every one was to go out, as she wished to speak with him in private.
When the queen was alone, she began to weep bitterly, and said, of what use to me are the splendors and honors with which I am surrounded. Every morning I awake in pain and sorrow. I had three daughters, the youngest of whom was so beautiful that the whole world looked on her as a wonder. She was as white as snow, as rosy as apple-blossom, and her hair as radiant as sun-beams. When she cried, not tears fell from her eyes, but pearls and jewels only. When she was fifteen years old, the king summoned all three sisters to come before his throne. You should have seen how all the people gazed when the youngest entered, it was just as if the sun were rising. Then the king spoke, my daughters, I know not when my last day may arrive. I will to-day decide what each shall receive at my death. You all love me, but the one of you who loves me best, shall fare the best.
Each of them said she loved him best. Can you not express to me, said the king, how much you do love me, and thus I shall see what you mean. The eldest spoke, I love my father as dearly as the sweetest sugar. The second, I love my father as dearly as my prettiest dress. But the youngest was silent. Then the father said, and you, my dearest child, how much do you love me. I do not know, and can compare my love with nothing. But her father insisted that she should name something. So she said at last, the best food does not please me without salt, therefore I love my father like salt. When the king heard that, he fell into a passion, and said, if you love me like salt, your love shall also be repaid you with salt. Then he divided the kingdom between the two elder, but caused a sack of salt to be bound on the back of the youngest, and two servants had to lead her forth into the wild forest.
We all begged and prayed for her, said the queen, but the king's anger was not to be appeased. How she cried when she had to leave us. The whole road was strewn with the pearls which flowed from her eyes. The king soon afterwards repented of his great severity, and had the whole forest searched for the poor child, but no one could find her.
When I think that the wild beasts have devoured her, I know not how to contain myself for sorrow. Many a time I console myself with the hope that she is still alive, and may have hidden herself in a cave, or has found shelter with compassionate people. But picture to yourself, when I opened your little emerald box, a pearl lay therein, of exactly the same kind as those which used to fall from my daughter's eyes. And then you can also imagine how the sight of it stirred my heart. You must tell me how you came by that pearl. The count told her that he had received it from the old woman in the forest, who had appeared very strange to him, and must be a witch, but he had neither seen nor heard anything of the queen's child. The king and the queen resolved to seek out the old woman. They thought that there where the pearl had been, they would obtain news of their daughter.
The old woman was sitting in that lonely place at her spinning-wheel spinning. It was already dusk, and a log which was burning on the hearth gave a scanty light. All at once there was a noise outside, the geese were coming home from the pasture, and uttering their hoarse cries. Soon afterwards the daughter also entered. But the old woman scarcely thanked her, and only shook her head a little. The daughter sat down beside her, took her spinning-wheel, and twisted the threads as nimbly as a young girl. Thus they both sat for two hours, and exchanged never a word. At last something rustled at the window and two fiery eyes peered in. It was an old night-owl, which cried 'uhu, three times.
The old woman looked up just a little, then she said, now, my little daughter, it is time for you to go out and do your work. She rose and went out, and where did she go. Over the meadows ever onward into the valley. At last she came to a well, with three old oak-trees standing beside it. Meanwhile the moon had risen large and round over the mountain, and it was so light that one could have found a needle. She removed a skin which covered her face, then bent down to the well, and began to wash herself. When she had finished, she dipped the skin also in the water, and then laid it on the meadow, so that it should bleach in the moonlight, and dry again. But how the maiden was changed. Such a change as that was never seen before. When the gray mask fell off, her golden hair broke forth like sun-beams, and spread about like a mantle over her whole form. Her eyes shone out as brightly as the stars in heaven, and her cheeks bloomed a soft red like apple-blossom. But the fair maiden was sad. She sat down and wept bitterly. One tear after another forced itself out of her eyes, and rolled through her long hair to the ground.
There she sat, and would have remained sitting a long time, if there had not been a rustling and cracking in the boughs of the neighboring tree. She sprang up like a roe which has been overtaken by the shot of the hunter. Just then the moon was obscured by a dark cloud, and in an instant the maiden had put on the old skin and vanished, like a light blown out by the wind. She ran back home, trembling like an aspen-leaf. The old woman was standing on the threshold, and the girl was about to relate what had befallen her, but the old woman laughed kindly, and said, I already know all. She led her into the room and lighted a new log. She did not, however, sit down to her spinning again, but fetched a broom and began to sweep and scour. All must be clean and sweet, she said to the girl. But, mother, said the maiden, why do you begin work at so late an hour. What do you expect. Do you know then what time it is, asked the old woman. Not yet
The girl was terrified, and said, alas, dear mother, will you cast me off. Where shall I go. I have no friends, and no home to which I can go. I have always done as you bade me, and you have always been satisfied with me. Do not send me away. The old woman would not tell the maiden what lay before her. My stay here is over, she said to her, but when I depart, house and parlor must be clean. Therefore do not hinder me in my work. Have no care for yourself, you shall find a roof to shelter you, and the wages which I will give you shall also content you. But tell me what is about to happen, the maiden continued to entreat. I tell you again, do not hinder me in my work. Do not say a word more, go to your chamber, take the skin off your face, and put on the silken gown which you had on when you came to me, and then wait in your chamber until I call you. But I must once more tell of the king and queen, who had journeyed forth with the count in order to seek out the old woman in the wilderness.
The count had strayed away from them in the wood by night, and had to walk onwards alone. Next day it seemed to him that he was on the right track. He still went forward, until darkness came on, then he climbed a tree, intending to pass the night there, for he feared that he might lose his way. When the moon illumined the surrounding country he perceived a figure coming down the mountain. She had no stick in her hand, but yet he could see that it was the goose-girl, whom he had seen before in the house of the old woman. Oho, cried he, there she comes, and if I once get hold of one of the witches, the other shall not escape me. But how astonished he was, when she went to the well, took off the skin and washed herself, when her golden hair fell down all about her, and she was more beautiful than anyone whom he had ever seen in the whole world. He hardly dared to breathe, but stretched his head as far forward through the leaves as he could, and stared at her. Either he bent over too far, or whatever the cause might be, the bough suddenly cracked, and that very moment the maiden slipped into the skin, sprang away like a roe, and as the moon was suddenly covered, disappeared from his sight.
Hardly had she disappeared, before the count descended from the tree, and hastened after her with nimble steps. He had not been gone long before he saw, in the twilight, two figures coming over the meadow. It was the king and queen, who had perceived from a distance the light shining in the old woman's little house, and were going to it. The count told them what wonderful things he had seen by the well, and they did not doubt that it had been their lost daughter. They walked onwards full of joy, and soon came to the little house. The geese were sitting all round it, and had thrust their heads under their wings and were sleeping, and not one of them moved. The king and queen looked in at the window, where the old woman was sitting quite quietly spinning, nodding her head and never looking round. The room was perfectly clean, as if the little mist men, who carry no dust on their feet, lived there. Their daughter, however, they did not see. They gazed at all this for a long time, until at last they took heart, and knocked softly at the window. The old woman appeared to have been expecting them. She rose, and called out quite kindly, come in. I know you already.
When they had entered the room, the old woman said, you might have spared yourself the long walk, if you had not three years ago unjustly driven away your child, who is so good and lovable. No harm has come to her. For three years she has had to tend the geese. With them she has learnt no evil, but has preserved her purity of heart. You, however, have been sufficiently punished by the misery in which you have lived. Then she went to the chamber and called, come out, my little daughter. Thereupon the door opened, and the princess stepped out in her silken garments, with her golden hair and her shining eyes, and it was as if an angel from heaven had entered. She went up to her father and mother, fell on their necks and kissed them. There was no help for it, they all had to weep for joy. The young count stood near them, and when she perceived him she became as red in the face as a moss-rose, she herself did not know why. The king said, my dear child, I have given away my kingdom, what shall I give you. She needs nothing, said the old woman. I give her the tears that she has wept on your account. They are precious pearls, finer than those that are found in the sea, and worth more than your whole kingdom, and I give her my little house as payment for her services.
When the old woman had said that, she disappeared from their sight. The walls rattled a little, and when the king and queen looked round, the little house had changed into a splendid palace, a royal table had been spread, and the servants were running hither and thither. The story goes still further, but my grandmother, who related it to me, had partly lost her memory, and had forgotten the rest. I shall always believe that the beautiful princess married the count, and that they remained together in the palace, and lived there in all happiness so long as God willed it. Whether the snow-white geese, which were kept near the little hut, were verily young maidens no one need take offence, whom the old woman had taken under her protection, and whether they now received their human form again, and stayed as handmaids to the young queen, I do not exactly know, but I suspect it. This much is certain, that the old woman was no witch, as people thought, but a wise woman, who meant well. Very likely it was she who, at the princess's birth, gave her the gift of weeping pearls instead of tears. That does not happen nowadays, or else the poor would soon become rich.
THE PEASANT AND THE DEVIL
There was once upon a time a far-sighted, crafty peasant whose tricks were much talked about. The best story, however, is how he once got hold of the devil, and made a fool of him. The peasant had one day been working in his field, and as twilight had set in, was making ready for the journey home, when he saw a heap of burning coals in the middle of his field, and when, full of astonishment, he went up to it, a little black devil was sitting on the live coals. Are you sitting upon a treasure, said the peasant. Yes, in truth, replied the devil, on a treasure which contains more gold and silver than you have ever seen in your life. The treasure lies in my field and belongs to me, said the peasant. It is yours, answered the devil, if you will for two years give me one half of everything your field produces. Money I have enough, but I have a desire for the fruits of the earth. The peasant agreed to the bargain. In order, however, that no dispute may arise about the division, said he, everything that is above ground shall belong to you, and what is under the earth to me. The devil was quite satisfied with that, but the cunning peasant had sown turnips. Now when the time for harvest came, the devil appeared and wanted to take away his crop. But he found nothing but the yellow withered leaves, while the peasant, full of delight, was digging up his turnips. You have had the best of it for once, said the devil, but the next time that won't do. What grows above ground shall be yours, and what is under it, mine. I am willing, replied the peasant. But when the time came to sow, he did not again sow turnips, but wheat. The grain became ripe, and the peasant went into the field and cut the full stalks down to the ground. When the devil came, he found nothing but the stubble, and went away in a fury down into a cleft in the rocks. That is the way to cheat the devil, said the peasant, and went and fetched away the treasure.
THE POOR MAN AND THE RICH MAN
In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on this earth amongst men, it once happened that he was tired and overtaken by the darkness before he could reach an inn. Now there stood on the road before him two houses facing each other, the one large and beautiful, the other small and poor. The large one belonged to a rich man, and the small one to a poor man. Then the Lord thought, I shall be no burden to the rich man. I will stay the night with him. Then the rich man heard someone knocking at his door, he opened the window and asked the stranger what he wanted. The Lord answered, I only ask for a night's lodging. Then the rich man looked at the traveler from head to foot, and as the Lord was wearing common clothes, and did not look like one who had much money in his pocket, he shook his head, and said, no, I cannot take you in, my rooms are full of herbs and seeds.
And if I were to lodge everyone who knocked at my door, I might very soon go begging myself. Go somewhere else for a lodging, and with this he shut down the window and left the Lord standing there. So the Lord turned his back on the rich man, and went across to the small house and knocked. He had hardly done so when the poor man opened the little door and bade the traveler come in. Pass the night with me, it is already dark, said he. You cannot go any further to-night. This pleased the Lord, and he went in. The poor man's wife shook hands with him, and welcomed him, and said he was to make himself at home and put up with what they had got. They had not much to offer him, but what they had they would give him with all their hearts. Then she put the potatoes on the fire, and while they were boiling, she milked the goat, that they might have a little milk with them.
When the cloth was laid, the Lord sat down with the man and his wife, and he enjoyed their coarse food, for there were happy faces at the table. When they had had supper and it was bed-time, the woman called her husband apart and said, listen, dear husband, let us make up a bed of straw for ourselves to-night, and then the poor traveler can sleep in our bed and have a good rest, for he has been walking the whole day through, and that makes one weary. With all my heart, he answered, I will go and offer it to him. And he went to the stranger and invited him, if he had no objection, to sleep in their bed and rest his limbs properly. But the Lord was unwilling to take their bed from the two old folks. However, they would not be satisfied, until at length he did it and lay down in their bed, while they themselves lay on some straw on the ground. Next morning they got up before daybreak, and made as good a breakfast as they could for the guest.
When the sun shone in through the little window, and the Lord had got up, he again ate with them, and then prepared to set out on his journey. But as he was standing at the door he turned round and said, as you are so kind and good, you may wish three things for yourselves and I will grant them. Then the man said, what else should I wish for but eternal happiness, and that we two, as long as we live, may be healthy and have every day our daily bread. For the third wish, I do not know what to have.
And the Lord said to him, will you wish for a new house instead of this old one. Oh, yes, said the man. If I can have that, too, I should like it very much. And the Lord fulfilled his wish, and changed their old house into a new one, again gave them his blessing, and went on. The sun was high when the rich man got up and leaned out of his window and saw, on the opposite side of the way, a new clean-looking house with red tiles and bright windows where the old hut used to be. He was very much astonished, and called his wife and said to her, tell me, what can have happened. Last night there was a miserable little hut standing there, and to-day there is a beautiful new house.
Run over and see how that has come to pass. So his wife went and asked the poor man, and he said to her, yesterday evening a traveler came here and asked for a night's lodging, and this morning when he took leave of us he granted us three wishes - eternal happiness, health during this life and our daily bread as well, and besides this, a beautiful new house instead of our old hut. When the rich man's wife heard this, she ran back in haste and told her husband how it had happened. The man said, I could tear myself to pieces. If I had but known that. That traveler came to our house too, and wanted to sleep here, and I sent him away.
Quick, said his wife, get on your horse. You can still catch the man up, and then you must ask to have three wishes granted to you also. The rich man followed the good counsel and galloped away on his horse, and soon came up with the Lord. He spoke to him softly and pleasantly, and begged him not to take it amiss that he had not let him in directly. He was looking for the front-door key, and in the meantime the stranger had gone away. If he returned the same way he must come and stay with him. Yes, said the Lord. If I ever come back again, I will do so. Then the rich man asked if might not wish for three things too, as his neighbor had done. Yes, said the Lord, he might, but it would not be to his advantage, and he had better not wish for anything. But the rich man thought that he could easily ask for something which would add to his happiness, if he only knew that it would be granted. So the Lord said to him, ride home, then, and three wishes which you shall make, shall be fulfilled. The rich man had now gained what he wanted, so he rode home, and began to consider what he should wish for.
As he was thus thinking he let the bridle fall, and the horse began to caper about, so that he was continually disturbed in his meditations, and could not collect his thoughts at all. He patted its neck, and said, gently, lisa, but the horse only began new tricks. Then at last he was angry, and cried quite impatiently, I wish your neck was broken. Directly he had said the words, down the horse fell on the ground, and there it lay dead and never moved again. And thus was his first wish fulfilled. As he was miserly by nature, he did not like to leave the harness lying there. So he cut it off, and put it on his back. And now he had to go on foot. I have still two wishes left, said he, and comforted himself with that thought. And now as he was walking slowly through the sand, and the sun was burning hot at noon-day, he grew quite bad-tempered and angry. The saddle hurt his back, and he had not yet any idea what to wish for. If I were to wish for all the riches and treasures in the world, said he to himself, I should still to think of all kinds of other things later on.
I know that, beforehand. But I will manage so that there is nothing at all left me to wish for afterwards. Then he sighed and said, ah, if I were but that bavarian peasant, who likewise had three wishes granted to him, and knew quite well what to do, and in the first place wished for a great deal of beer, and in the second for as much beer as he was able to drink, and in the third for a barrel of beer into the bargain. Many a time he thought he had found it, but then it seemed to him to be, after all, too little.
Then it came into his mind, what an easy life his wife had, for she stayed at home in a cool room and enjoyed herself. This really did vex him, and before he was aware, he said, I just wish she was sitting there on this saddle, and could not get off it, instead of my having to drag it along on my back. And as the last word was spoken, the saddle disappeared from his back, and he saw that his second wish had been fulfilled. Then he really did feel hot. He began to run and wanted to be quite alone in his own room at home, to think of something really big for his last wish. But when he arrived there and opened the parlor-door, he saw his wife sitting in the middle of the room on the saddle, crying and complaining, and quite unable to get off it. So he said, do bear it, and I will wish for all the riches on earth for you, only stay where you are. She, however, called him a fool, and said, what good will all the riches on earth do me, if I am to sit on this saddle. You have wished me on it, so you must help me off. So whether he would or not, he was forced to let his third wish be that she should be quit of the saddle, and able to get off it, and immediately the wish was fulfilled. So he got nothing by it but vexation, trouble, abuse, and the loss of his horse. But the poor people lived contentedly, quietly, and piously until their happy death.
THE CRYSTAL BALL
There was once an enchantress, who had three sons who loved each other as brothers, but the old woman did not trust them, and thought they wanted to steal her power from her. So she changed the eldest into an eagle, which was forced to dwell in the rocky mountains, and was often seen flying in great circles in the sky. The second, she changed into a whale, which lived in the deep sea, and all that was seen of it was that it sometimes spouted up a great jet of water in the air. Each of them bore his human form for only two hours daily. The third son, who was afraid she might change him into a raging wild beast - a bear perhaps, or a wolf, went secretly away. He had heard that a king's daughter who was bewitched, was imprisoned in the castle of the golden sun, and was waiting to be set free. Those, however, who tried to free her risked their lives. Three-and-twenty youths had already died a miserable death, and now only one other might make the attempt, after which no more must come. And as his heart was without fear, he made up his mind to seek out the castle of the golden sun. He had already traveled about for a long time without being able to find it, when he came by chance into a great forest, and did not know the way out of it. All at once he saw in the distance two giants, who made a sign to him with their hands, and when he came to them they said, we are quarreling about a cap, and which of us it is to belong to, and as we are equally strong, neither of us can get the better of the other. The small men are cleverer than we are, so we will leave the decision to you. How can you dispute about an old cap, said the youth. You do not know what properties it has. It is a wishing-cap, whosoever puts it on, can wish himself away wherever he likes, and in an instant he will be there. Give me the cap, said the youth, I will go a short distance off, and when I call you, you must run a race, and the cap shall belong to the one who gets first to me. He put it on and went away, and thought of the king's daughter, forgot the giants, and walked continually onward. At length he sighed from the very bottom of his heart, and cried, ah, if I were but at the castle of the golden sun. And hardly had the words passed his lips than he was standing on a high mountain before the gate of the castle. He entered and went through all the rooms, until in the last he found the king's daughter. But how shocked he was when he saw her. She had an ashen-gray face full of wrinkles, bleary eyes, and red hair. Are you the king's daughter, whose beauty the whole world praises, cried he. Ah, she answered, this is not my form, human eyes can only see me in this state of ugliness, but that you may know what I am like, look in the mirror - it does not let itself be misled - it will show you my image as it is in truth. She gave him the mirror in his hand, and he saw therein the likeness of the most beautiful maiden on earth, and saw, too, how the tears were rolling down her cheeks with grief. Then said he, how can you be set free. I fear no danger. She said, he who gets the crystal ball, and holds it before the enchanter, will destroy his power with it, and I shall resume my true shape. Ah, she added, so many have already gone to meet death for this, and you are so young, I grieve that you should encounter such great danger. Nothing can keep me from doing it, said he, but tell me what I must do. You shall know everything, said the king's daughter, when you descend the mountain on which the castle stands, a wild bull will stand below by a spring, and you must fight with it, and if you have the luck to kill it, a fiery bird will spring out of it, which bears in its body a red-hot egg, and in the egg the crystal ball lies as its yolk. The bird, however, will not let the egg fall until forced to do so, and if it falls on the ground, it will flame up and burn everything that is near, and even the egg itself will melt, and with it the crystal ball, and then your trouble will have been in vain. The youth went down to the spring, where the bull snorted and bellowed at him. After a long struggle he plunged his sword in the animal's body, and it fell down. Instantly a fiery bird arose from it and was about to fly away, but the young man's brother, the eagle, who was passing between the clouds, swooped down, hunted it away to the sea, and struck it with his beak until, in its extremity, it let the egg fall. The egg, however, did not fall into the sea, but on a fisherman's hut which stood on the shore and the hut began at once to smoke and was about to break out in flames. Then arose in the sea waves as high as a house, which streamed over the hut, and subdued the fire. The other brother, the whale, had come swimming to them, and had driven the water up on high. When the fire was extinguished, the youth sought for the egg and happily found it, it was not yet melted, but the shell was broken by being so suddenly cooled with the water, and he could take out the crystal ball unhurt. When the youth went to the enchanter and held it before him, the latter said, my power is destroyed, and from this time forth you are the king of the castle of the golden sun. With this you can likewise give back to your brothers their human form. Then the youth hastened to the king's daughter, and when he entered the room, she was standing there in the full splendor of her beauty, and joyfully they exchanged rings with each other.
THE GOLD-CHILDREN
There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a little cottage, and who earned their bread by fishing, and always lived from hand to mouth. But it came to pass one day when the man was sitting by the water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out a fish entirely of gold. As he was looking at the fish, full of astonishment, it began to speak and said, listen, fisherman, if you will throw me back again into the water, I will change your little hut into a splendid castle.
Then the fisherman answered, of what use is a castle to me, if I have nothing to eat. The gold fish continued, that shall be taken care of, there will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when you open it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of them as you can desire. If that be true, said the man, then I can well do you a favor. Yes, said the fish, there is, however, the condition that you shall disclose to no one in the world, whosoever he may be, whence your good luck has come, if you speak but one single word, all will be over. Then the man threw the wonderful fish back again into the water, and went home.
But where his hovel had formerly stood, now stood a great castle. He opened wide his eyes, entered, and saw his wife dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room, and she was quite delighted, and said, husband, how has all this come to pass. It suits me very well. Yes, said the man, it suits me too, but I am frightfully hungry, just give me something to eat. Said the wife, but I have got nothing and don't know where to find anything in this new house. There is no need of your knowing, said the man, for I see yonder a great cupboard, just unlock it. When she opened it, there stood cakes, meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect.
Then the woman cried joyfully, what more can you want, my dear. And they sat down, and ate and drank together. When they had had enough, the woman said, but husband, whence come all these riches. Alas, answered he, do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you anything. If I disclose it to anyone, then all our good fortune will disappear. Very good, said she, if I am not to know anything, then I do not want to know anything. However, she was not in earnest. She never rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful golden fish which he had caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty. And as soon as the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately disappeared, they were once more in the old fisherman's hut, and the man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish.
But fortune would so have it, that he once more drew out the golden fish. Listen, said the fish, if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled meats. Only be firm, for your life's sake don't reveal from whom you have it, or you will lose it all again. I will take good care, answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water.
Now at home everything was once more in its former magnificence, and the wife was overjoyed at their good fortune, but curiosity left her no peace, so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come to pass, and how he had managed to secure it. The man kept silence for a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out, and betrayed the secret.
In an instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again in their old hut. Now you have got what you want, said he, and we can gnaw at a bare bone again. Ah, said the woman, I had rather not have riches if I am not to know from whom they come, for then I have no peace.
The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the gold fish for a third time. Listen, said the fish, I see very well that I am fated to fall into your hands, take me home and cut me into six pieces. Give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse and bury two of them in the ground, then they will bring you a blessing. The fisherman took the fish home with him, and did as it had bidden him. It came to pass, however, that from the two pieces that were buried in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the horse had two golden foals, and the fisherman's wife bore two children who were made entirely of gold. The children grew up, became tall and handsome, and the lilies and horses grew likewise. Then they said, father, we want to mount our golden steeds and travel out in the world. But he answered sorrowfully, how shall I bear it if you go away, and I know not how it fares with you. Then they said, the two golden lilies remain here. By them you can see how it is with us. If they are fresh, then we are in health. If they are withered, we are ill. If they perish, then we are dead.
So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were many people, and when they perceived the gold-children they began to laugh, and jeer. When one of them heard the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a great forest. As he was about to enter it, the people said, it is not safe for you to ride through, the wood is full of robbers who would treat you badly. You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all of gold, and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.
But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, I must and will ride through it. Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and his horse with them, so that the gold was no more to be seen, and rode fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together. From one side came cries of, there is one, but from the other, let him go, 'tis a bearskin, as poor and bare as a church-mouse, what should we gain from him. So the gold-child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell him.One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she existed in the world. And as such a mighty love took possession of him, he went up to her and said, I love you with my whole heart, will you be my wife. He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and said, yes, I will be your wife, and be true to you my whole life long.
Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when he saw that his daughter's wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said, where is the bridegroom. They showed him the gold-child, who, however, still wore his bear-skins. Then the father said wrathfully, a bearskin shall never have my daughter. And was about to kill him. Then the bride begged as hard as she could, and said, he is my husband, and I love him with all my heart. Until at last he allowed himself to be appeased. Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter's husband was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground. Then he went back and thought, what a good thing it was that I restrained my anger. I would have committed a great crime.
But the gold-child dreamed that he rode out to hunt a splendid stag, and when he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, I must go out hunting. She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, you might easily meet with a great misfortune. But he answered, I must and will go.
Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest, and it was not long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when the gold-child looked round him, he was standing before a little house, wherein sat a witch.
He knocked and a little old woman came out and asked, what are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest. Have you not seen a stag. Yes, answered she, I know the stag well. And thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with her, barked at the man violently. Will you be silent, you odious toad, said he, or I will shoot you dead. Then the witch cried out in a passion, what will you slay my little dog. And immediately transformed him, so that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him in vain and thought, that which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so heavily on my heart, has come upon him.
But at home the other brother was standing by the gold-lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. Good heavens, said he, my brother has met with some great misfortune I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him. Then the father said, stay here, if I lose you also, what shall I do. But he answered, I must and will go forth.
Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and entered the great forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old witch came out of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also, but he did not go near her, and said, I will shoot you, if you will not bring my brother to life again. She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to his human shape.
And the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw each other again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of the forest the one home to his bride, and the other to his father.
The father then said, I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for the golden lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again. Then they lived happily, and they prospered until their death.
THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON
There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears dull of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let it run out of his mouth. His son and his son's wife were disgusted at this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind the stove, and they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not even enough of it. And he used to look towards the table with his eyes full of tears.
Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and it fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded him, but he said nothing and only sighed. Then they bought him a wooden bowl for a few half-pence, out of which he had to eat.
They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground. What are you doing there, asked the father. I am making a little trough, answered the child, for father and mother to eat out of when I am big.
The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently began to cry. Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if he did spill a little of anything.
THE GOLDEN KEY
In the winter time, when deep snow lay on the ground, a poor boy was forced to go out on a sledge to fetch wood. When he had gathered it together, and packed it, he wished, as he was so frozen with cold, not to go home at once, but to light a fire and warm himself a little. So he scraped away the snow, and as he was thus clearing the ground, he found a tiny golden key. Hereupon he thought that where the key was, the lock must be also, and dug in the ground and found an iron chest. If the key does but fit it! thought he; no doubt there are precious things in that little box. He searched, but no keyhole was there. At last he discovered one, but so small that it was hardly visible. He tried it, and the key fitted it exactly. Then he turned it once round, and now we must wait until he has quite unlocked it and opened the lid, and then we shall learn what wonderful things were lying in that box.
THE GIANT AND THE TAILOR
A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing, took it into his head to go abroad for a while, and look about the world. As soon as he could manage it, he left his work-shop, and wandered on his way, over hill and dale, sometimes hither, sometimes, thither, but ever on and on. Once on his way he perceived in the blue distance a steep hill, and behind it a tower reaching to the clouds, which rose up out of a wild dark forest. Thunder and lightning, cried the tailor, what is that, and as he was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went boldly towards it. But how he did gaze and gape when he came near it, for the tower had legs, and leapt in one bound over the steep hill, and was now standing as an all-powerful giant before him. What do you want here, you tiny fly's leg, cried the giant, with a voice as if it were thundering on every side.
The tailor whimpered, I want just to look about and see if I can earn a bit of bread for myself, in this forest. If that is what you are after, said the giant, you may have a place with me. If it must be, why not. What wages shall I receive. You shall hear what wages you shall have. Every year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when it is leap-year, one more into the bargain. Does that suit you. All right, replied the tailor, and thought, in his own mind, a man must cut his coat according to his cloth. I will try to get away as fast as I can. At this the giant said to him, go, little ragamuffin, and fetch me a jug of water. Had I not better bring the well itself at once, and the spring too, asked the boaster, and went with the pitcher to the water. What, the well and the spring too, growled the giant in his beard, for he was somewhat of a silly dolt, and began to be afraid. That knave is not a fool, he has a mandrake in his body. Be on your guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for you.
When the tailor had brought the water, the giant bade him go into the forest, and cut a couple of blocks of wood and bring them back. Why not the whole forest, at once, with one stroke. The whole forest, young and old, with all that is there, both gnarled and smooth, and the well and its spring too, growled the credulous giant in his beard, and was still more terrified. The knave can do much more than bake apples, and has a mandrake in his body.
Be on your guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for you. When the tailor had brought the wood, the giant commanded him to shoot two or three wild boars for supper. Why not rather a thousand at one shot, and bring them all here, inquired the insolent tailor. What, cried the timid giant in great terror. Let well alone to-night, and lie down to rest. The giant was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an eye all night long for thinking what would be the best way to get rid of this accursed sorcerer of a servant. Time brings counsel. Next morning the giant and the tailor went to a marsh, round which stood a number of willow-trees. Then said the giant, listen, tailor, seat yourself on one of the willow-branches. I long of all things to see if you are big enough to bend it down. All at once the tailor was sitting on it, holding his breath, and making himself heavy, so heavy that the bough bent down. When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it hurled him - for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his pocket - so high into the air that he never was seen again, and this to the great delight of the giant. If the tailor has not fallen down again, he must still be hovering about in the air.
DEATH'S MESSENGERS
In ancient times a giant was once traveling on a great highway, when suddenly an unknown man sprang up before him, and said, halt, not one step farther. What. Cried the giant, a creature whom I can crush between my fingers, wants to block my way. Who are you that you dare to speak so boldly. I am death, answered the other. No one resists me, and you also must obey my commands. But the giant refused, and began to struggle with death. It was a long, violent battle, in which at last the giant got the upper hand, and struck death down with his fist, so that he collapsed by a stone.
The giant went his way, and death lay there conquered, and so weak that he could not get up again. What will be done now, said he, if I stay lying here in a corner. No one will die in the world, and it will get so full of people that they won't have room to stand beside each other. In the meantime a young man came along the road, who was strong and healthy, singing a song, and glancing around on every side. When he saw the half-fainting one, he went compassionately to him, raised him up, poured a strengthening draught out of his flask for him, and waited till he regained some strength. Do you know, said the stranger, whilst he was getting up, who I am, and who it is whom you have helped on his legs again. No, answered the youth, I do not know you. I am death, said he, I spare no one, and can make no exception with you - but that you may see that I am grateful, I promise you that I will not fall on you unexpectedly, but will send my messengers to you before I come and take you away. Well, said the youth, it is something gained that I shall know when you come, and at any rate be safe from you for so long. Then he went on his way, and was light-hearted, and enjoyed himself, and lived without thought. But youth and health did not last long.
Soon came sicknesses and sorrows, which tormented him by day, and took away his rest by night. Die, I shall not, said he to himself, for death will send his messengers before that, but I do wish these wretched days of sickness were over. As soon as he felt himself well again he began once more to live merrily. Then one day someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round, and death stood behind him, and said, follow me, the hour of your departure from this world has come. What, replied the man, will you break your word. Did you not promise me that you would send your messengers to me before coming yourself. I have seen none. Silence, answered death. Have I not sent one messenger to you after another. Did not fever come and smite you, and shake you, and cast you down. Has not dizziness bewildered your head. Has not gout twitched you in all your limbs. Did not your ears sing. Did not tooth-ache bite into your cheeks. Was it not dark before your eyes. And besides all that, has not my own brother sleep reminded you every night of me. Did you not lie by night as if you were already dead. The man could make no answer, he yielded to his fate, and went away with death
THE OLD BEGGAR-WOMAN
There was once an old woman, but you have surely seen an old woman go a-begging before now. This woman begged likewise, and when she got anything she said, may God reward you. The beggar-woman came to a door, and there by the fire a friendly rogue of a boy was standing warming himself. The boy said kindly to the poor old woman as she was standing shivering thus by the door, come, old mother, and warm yourself. She came in, but stood too near the fire, so that her old rags began to burn, and she was not aware of it. The boy stood and saw that, but he ought to have put the flames out. Is it not true that he ought to have put them out. And if he had not any water, then he should have wept all the water in his body out of his eyes, and that would have supplied two pretty streams with which to extinguish them.
THE NAIL
A merchant had done good business at the fair. He had sold his wares, and lined his money-bags with gold and silver. Then he wanted to travel homewards, and be in his own house before nightfall. So he packed his trunk with the money on his horse, and rode away. At
THE PEASANT IN HEAVEN
Once upon a time a poor pious peasant died, and arrived before the gate of heaven. At the same time a very rich, rich lord came there who also wanted to get into heaven. Then Saint Peter came with the key, and opened the door, and let the great man in, but apparently did not see the peasant, and shut the door again. And now the peasant outside heard how the great man was received in heaven with all kinds of rejoicing, and how they were making music, and singing within. At length all became quiet again, and Saint Peter came and opened the gate of heaven, and let the peasant in. The peasant, however, expected that they would make music and sing when he went in also, but all remained quite quiet. He was received with great affection, it is true, and the angels came to meet him, but no one sang. Then the peasant asked Saint Peter how it was that they did not sing for him as they had done when the rich man went in, and said that it seemed to him that there in heaven things were done with just as much partiality as on earth. Then said Saint Peter, by no means, you are just as dear to us as anyone else, and will enjoy every heavenly delight that the rich man enjoys, but poor fellows like you come to heaven every day, but a rich man like this does not come more than once in a hundred years
THE LORD'S ANIMALS AND THE DEVIL'S
The Lord God had created all animals, and had chosen out the wolf to be his dog, but he had forgotten the goat. Then the devil made ready and began to create also, and created goats with fine long tails. Now when they went to pasture, they generally remained caught in the hedges by their tails, whereupon the devil had to go and disentangle them, with a great deal of trouble. This enraged him at last, and he went and bit off the tail of every goat, as may be seen to this day by the stump. Then he let them go to pasture alone, but it came to pass that the Lord God perceived how at one time they gnawed away at a fruitful tree, at another injured the noble vines, or destroyed other tender plants. This distressed him, so that in his goodness and mercy he summoned his wolves, who soon tore in pieces the goats that went there. When the devil observed this, he went before the Lord and said, your creatures have destroyed mine. The Lord answered, why did you create things to do harm. The devil said, I was compelled to do it, inasmuch as my thoughts run on evil. What I create can have no other nature, and you must pay me heavy damages. I will pay you as soon as the oak leaves fall, come then, your money will then be ready counted out. When the oak-leaves had fallen, the devil came and demanded what was due to him. But the Lord said, in the
THE QUEEN BEE
Two kings' sons once went out in search of adventures, and fell into a wild, disorderly way of living, so that they never came home again. The youngest, who was called simpleton, set out to seek his brothers, but when at length he found them they mocked him for thinking that he with his simplicity could get through the world, when they two could not make their way, and yet were so much cleverer.
They all three traveled away together, and came to an ant-hill. The two elder wanted to destroy it, to see the little ants creeping about in their terror, and carrying their eggs away, but simpleton said, leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to disturb them.
Then they went onwards and came to a lake, on which a great number of ducks were swimming. The two brothers wanted to catch a couple and roast them, but simpleton would not permit it, and said, leave the creatures in peace, I will not suffer you to kill them.
At length they came to a bee's nest, in which there was so much honey that it ran out of the trunk of the tree where it was. The two wanted to make a fire beneath the tree, and suffocate the bees in order to take away the honey, but simpleton again stopped them and said, leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to burn them.
At length the three brothers arrived at a castle where stone horses were standing in the stables, and no human being was to be seen, and they went through all the halls until, quite at the end, they came to a door in which were three locks. In the middle of the door, however, there was a little pane, through which they could see into the room. There they saw a little grey man, who was sitting at a table. They called him, once, twice, but he did not hear, at last they called him for the third time, when he got up, opened the locks, and came out. He said nothing, however, but conducted them to a handsomely-spread table, and when they had eaten and drunk, he took each of them to a bedroom.
Next morning the little grey man came to the eldest, beckoned to him, and conducted him to a stone table, on which were inscribed three tasks, by the performance of which the castle could be delivered from enchantment.
The first was that in the forest, beneath the moss, lay the princess's pearls, a thousand in number, which must be picked up, and if by sunset one single pearl was missing, he who had looked for them would be turned into stone. The eldest went thither, and sought the whole day, but when it came to an end, he had only found one hundred, and what was written on the table came true, and he was turned into stone. Next day, the second brother undertook the adventure, but it did not fare much better with him than with the eldest, he did not find more than two hundred pearls, and was changed to stone.
At last it was simpleton's turn to seek in the moss, but it was so difficult for him to find the pearls, and he got on so slowly, that he seated himself on a stone, and wept. And while he was thus sitting, the king of the ants whose life he had once saved, came with five thousand ants, and before long the little creatures had got all the pearls together, and laid them in a heap.
The second task, however, was to fetch out of the lake the key of the king's daughter's bed-chamber. When simpleton came to the lake, the ducks which he had saved, swam up to him, dived down, and brought the key out of the water.
But the third task was the most difficult, from amongst the three sleeping daughters of the king was the youngest and dearest to be sought out. They, however, resembled each other exactly, and were only to be distinguished by their having eaten different sweetmeats before they fell asleep, the eldest a bit of sugar, the second a little syrup, and the youngest a spoonful of honey.
Then the queen of the bees, whom simpleton had protected from the fire, came and tasted the lips of all three, and at last she remained sitting on the mouth which had eaten honey, and thus the king's son recognized the right princess. Then the enchantment was at an end, everything was delivered from sleep, and those who had been turned to stone received once more their natural forms.
Simpleton married the youngest and sweetest princess, and after her father's death became king, and his two brothers received the two other sisters.
THE THREE LITTLE BIRDS
About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this country nothing but small kings, and one of them who lived on the Keuterberg was very fond of hunting. Once on a time when he was riding forth from his castle with his huntsmen, three girls were watching their cows upon the mountain, and when they saw the king with all his followers, the eldest girl pointed to him, and called to the two other girls, hullo. Hullo. If I do not get that one, I will have none. Then the second girl answered from the other side of the hill, and pointed to the one who was on the king's right hand, hullo. Hullo. If I do not get him, I will have no one. These, however, were the two ministers. The king heard all this, and when he had come back from the chase, he caused the three girls to be brought to him, and asked them what they had said yesterday on the mountain. This they would not tell him, so the king asked the eldest if she really would take him for her husband. Then she said, yes, and the two ministers married the two sisters, for they were all three fair and beautiful of face, especially the queen, who had hair like flax.
But the two sisters had no children, and once when the king was obliged to go from home he invited them to come to the queen in order to cheer her, for she was about to bear a child. She had a little boy who brought a bright red star into the world with him. Then the two sisters said to each other that they would throw the beautiful boy into the water. When they had thrown him in - I believe it was into the
When the two heard that, they were frightened to death, and ran away in great haste. When the king came home they told him that the queen had been delivered of a dog. Then the king said, what God does, is well done. But a fisherman who dwelt near the water fished the little boy out again while he was still alive, and as his wife had no children, they reared him.
When a year had gone by, the king again went away, and the queen had another little boy, whom the false sisters likewise took and threw into the water. Then up flew a little bird again and sang - to thy death art thou sped until God's word be said. In the white lily bloom, brave boy, is thy tomb.
And when the king came back, they told him that the queen had once more given birth to a dog, and he again said, what God does, is well done. The fisherman, however, fished this one also out of the water, and reared him.
Then the king again journeyed forth, and the queen had a little girl, whom also the false sisters threw into the water. Then again a little bird flew up on high and sang - to thy death art thou sped until God's word be said. In the white lily bloom, bonny girl, is thy tomb.
And when the king came home they told him that the queen had been delivered of a cat. Then the king grew angry, and ordered his wife to be cast into prison, and therein was she shut up for many long years.
When the children had grown up, the eldest once went out with some other boys to fish, but the other boys would not have him with them, and said, go your way, foundling.
Hereupon he was much troubled, and asked the old fisherman if that was true. The fisherman told him that once when he was fishing he had drawn him out of the water. So the boy said he would go forth and seek his father. The fisherman, however, entreated him to stay, but he would not let himself be hindered, and at last the fisherman consented. Then the boy went on his way and walked for many days, and at last he came to a great stretch of water by the side of which stood an old woman fishing.
"Good day, mother," said the boy.
"Many thanks," said she.
"You will fish long enough before you catch anything."
"And you will seek long enough before you find your father. How will you get over the water," said the woman.
"God knows."
Then the old woman took him up on her back and carried him through it, and he sought for a long time, but could not find his father.
When a year had gone by, the second boy set out to seek his brother. He came to the water, and all fared with him just as with his brother. And now there was no one at home but the daughter, and she mourned for her brothers so much that at last she also begged the fisherman to let her set forth, for she wished to go in search of her brothers. Then she likewise came to the great stretch of water, and she said to the old woman, "Good day, mother."
"Many thanks," replied the old woman.
"May God help you with your fishing," said the maiden. When the old woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried her over the water, gave her a wand, and said to her, "Go, my daughter, ever onwards by this road, and when you come to a great black dog, you must pass it silently and boldly, without either laughing or looking at it. Then you will come to a great high castle, on the threshold of which you must let the wand fall, and go straight through the castle, and out again on the other side. There you will see an old fountain out of which a large tree has grown, whereon hangs a bird in a cage which you must take down.
Take likewise a glass of water out of the fountain, and with these two things go back by the same way. Pick up the wand again from the threshold and take it with you, and when you again pass by the dog, strike him in the face with it, but be sure that you hit him, and then just come back here to me."
The maiden found everything exactly as the old woman had said, and on her way back she found her two brothers who had sought each other over half the world. They went together to the place where the black dog was lying on the road, she struck it in the face, and it turned into a handsome prince who went with them to the river. There the old woman was still standing. She rejoiced much to see them again, and carried them all over the water, and then she too went away, for now she was freed. The others, however, went to the old fisherman, and all were glad that they had found each other again, but they hung the bird on the wall.
But the second son could not settle at home, and took his crossbow and went a-hunting. When he was tired he took his flute, and made music. The king was hunting too, and heard that and went thither, and when he met the youth, he said, "Who has given you leave to hunt here?"
"Oh, no one."
"To whom do you belong, then?"
"I am the fisherman's son."
"But he has no children."
"If you will not believe, come with me."
That the king did, and questioned the fisherman, who told him everything, and the little bird on the wall began to sing - the mother sits alone there in the prison small, o king of royal blood, these are thy children all. The sisters twain so false, they wrought the children woe, there in the waters deep where the fishermen come and go.
Then they were all terrified, and the king took the bird, the fisherman and the three children back with him to the castle, and ordered the prison to be opened and brought his wife out again. She had grown quite ill and weak, so the daughter gave her some of the water of the fountain to drink, and she became strong and healthy. But the two false sisters were burnt, and the daughter married the prince.
THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND THE SAUSAGE
Once upon a time a mouse, a bird, and a sausage became companions, kept house together, lived well and happily in peace, 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 the bird met with another bird, 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 bare-faced robbery, but words were useless, 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 table, 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 in 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 broke out. The bird hastened to fetch water, but the bucket dropped into the well, and he fell in with it, and could not recover himself, but had to drown there.
THE THREE GREEN TWIGS
There was once upon a time a hermit who lived in a forest at the foot of a mountain, and passed his time in prayer and good works, and every evening he carried, to the glory of God, two pails of water up the mountain. Many a beast drank of it, and many a plant was refreshed by it, for on the heights above, a strong wind blew continually, which dried the air and the ground, and the wild birds which dread mankind wheel about there, and with their sharp eyes search for a drink. And because the hermit was so pious, an angel of God, visible to his eyes, went up with him, counted his steps, and when the work was completed, brought him his food, even as the prophet of old was by God's command fed by the raven.
When the hermit in his piety had already reached a great age, it happened that he once saw from afar a poor sinner being taken to the gallows. He said carelessly to himself, there, that one is getting his deserts. In the evening, when he was carrying the water up the mountain, the angel who usually accompanied him did not appear, and also brought him no food. Then he was terrified, and searched his heart, and tried to think how he could have sinned, as God was so angry, but he did not discover it. Then he neither ate nor drank, threw himself down on the ground, and prayed day and night. And as he was one day thus bitterly weeping in the forest, he heard a little bird singing beautifully and delightfully, and then he was still more troubled and said, how joyously you sing, the Lord is not angry with you. Ah, if you could but tell me how I can have offended him, that I might do penance, and then my heart also would be glad again.
Then the bird began to speak and said, you have done injustice, in that you have condemned a poor sinner who was being led to the gallows, and for that the Lord is angry with you. He alone sits in judgement. However, if you will do penance and repent your sins, he will forgive you. Then the angel stood beside him with a dry branch in his hand and said, you shall carry this dry branch until three green twigs sprout out of it, but at night when you will sleep, you shall lay it under your head. You shall beg your bread from door to door, and not tarry more than one night in the same house. That is the penance which the Lord lays on you. Then the hermit took the piece of wood, and went back into the world, which he had not seen for so long. He ate and drank nothing but what was given him at the doors.
Many petitions, however, were not listened to, and many doors remained shut to him, so that he often did not get a crumb of bread. Once when he had gone from door to door from morning till night, and no one had given him anything, and no one would shelter him for the night, he went forth into a forest, and at last found a cave which someone had made, and an old woman was sitting in it. Then said he, good woman, keep me with you in your house for this night.
But she said, no, I dare not, even if I wished, I have three sons who are wicked and wild, if they come home from their robbing expedition, and find you, they would kill us both. The hermit said, let me stay, they will do no injury either to you or to me. And the old woman was compassionate, and let herself be persuaded. Then the man lay down beneath the stairs, and put the bit of wood under his head. When the old woman saw him do that, she asked the reason of it, on which he told her that he carried the bit of wood about with him for a penance, and used it at night for a pillow, and that he had offended the Lord, because, when he had seen a poor sinner on the way to the gallows, he had said he was getting his deserts. Then the woman began to weep and cried, if the Lord punishes one single word, how will it fare with my sons when they appear before him in judgment. At
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 comes in, he will devour you all - skin, hair, and everything. 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, you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough, you are 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 called, 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 you, you are 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 you will not do it, I will devour you. Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly, this the way of mankind.
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 your paws that we may know if you are 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.
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, she said, 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 fill of sleep, 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 'twas six kids, but it feels like big stones. And when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in, and 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.
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