{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_11027/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_11027","id":"gutenberg_11027","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11027","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: German Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales","Fairy tales -- Germany"],"text":"Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n      file which includes the original illustrations.\n      See 11027-h.htm or 11027-h.zip:\n      (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/0/2/11027/11027-h/11027-h.htm)\n      or\n      (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/0/2/11027/11027-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nGRIMM'S FAIRY STORIES\n\nColored Illustrations by JOHN B. GRUELLE\n\nPen and Ink Sketches by R. EMMETT OWEN\n\n1922\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nTHE GOOSE-GIRL\n\nTHE LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER\n\nHANSEL AND GRETHEL\n\nOH, IF I COULD BUT SHIVER!\n\nDUMMLING AND THE THREE FEATHERS\n\nLITTLE SNOW-WHITE\n\nCATHERINE AND FREDERICK\n\nTHE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR\n\nLITTLE RED-CAP\n\nTHE GOLDEN GOOSE\n\nBEARSKIN\n\nCINDERELLA\n\nFAITHFUL JOHN\n\nTHE WATER OF LIFE\n\nTHUMBLING\n\nBRIAR ROSE\n\nTHE SIX SWANS\n\nRAPUNZEL\n\nMOTHER HOLLE\n\nTHE FROG PRINCE\n\nTHE TRAVELS OF TOM THUMB\n\nSNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED\n\nTHE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD\n\nRUMPELSTILTSKIN\n\nLITTLE ONE-EYE, TWO-EYES AND THREE-EYES\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Grimm's Fairy Stories]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOOSE-GIRL\n\n\nAn old queen, whose husband had been dead some years, had a beautiful\ndaughter. When she grew up, she was betrothed to a prince who lived a\ngreat way off; and as the time drew near for her to be married, she got\nready to set off on her journey to his country. Then the queen, her\nmother, packed up a great many costly things--jewels, and gold, and\nsilver, trinkets, fine dresses, and in short, everything that became a\nroyal bride; for she loved her child very dearly; and she gave her a\nwaiting-maid to ride with her, and give her into the bridegroom's hands;\nand each had a horse for the journey. Now the princess' horse was called\nFalada, and could speak.\n\nWhen the time came for them to set out, the old queen went into her\nbed-chamber, and took a little knife, and cut off a lock of her hair,\nand gave it to her daughter, saying, \"Take care of it, dear child; for\nit is a charm that may be of use to you on the road.\" Then they took a\nsorrowful leave of each other, and the princess put the lock of her\nmother's hair into her bosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her\njourney to her bridegroom's kingdom.\n\nOne day, as they were riding along by the side of a brook, the princess\nbegan to feel very thirsty, and said to her maid, \"Pray get down and\nfetch me some water in my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to\ndrink.\" \"Nay,\" said the maid, \"if you are thirsty, get down yourself,\nand lie down by the water and drink; I shall not be your waiting-maid\nany longer.\" The princess was so thirsty that she got down, and knelt\nover the little brook and drank, for she was frightened, and dared not\nbring out her golden cup; and then she wept, and said, \"Alas! what will\nbecome of me?\" And the lock of hair answered her, and said--\n\n  \"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n  Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.\"\n\nBut the princess was very humble and meek, so she said nothing to her\nmaid's ill behavior, but got upon her horse again.\n\nThen all rode further on their journey, till the day grew so warm, and\nthe sun so scorching, that the bride began to feel very thirsty again;\nand at last, when they came to a river, she forgot her maid's rude\nspeech, and said, \"Pray get down and fetch me some water to drink in my\ngolden cup.\" But the maid answered her, and even spoke more haughtily\nthan before, \"Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting-maid.\"\nThen the princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse and lay\ndown, and held her head over the running stream, and cried, and said,\n\"What will become of me?\" And the lock of hair answered her again--\n\n  \"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n  Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.\"\n\nAnd as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom\nand floated away with the water, without her seeing it, she was so much\nfrightened. But her maid saw it, and was very glad, for she knew the\ncharm, and saw that the poor bride would be in her power now that she\nhad lost the hair. So when the bride had finished drinking, and would\nhave got upon Falada again, the maid said, \"I shall ride upon Falada,\nand you may have my horse instead;\" so she was forced to give up her\nhorse, and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes, and put on her\nmaid's shabby ones.\n\nAt last, as they drew near the end of the journey, this treacherous\nservant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told anyone what had\nhappened. But Falada saw it all, and marked it well. Then the\nwaiting-maid got upon Falada, and the real bride was set upon the other\nhorse, and they went on in this way till at last they came to the royal\ncourt. There was great joy at their coming, and the prince hurried to\nmeet them, and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one\nwho was to be his wife; and she was led upstairs to the royal chamber,\nbut the true princess was told to stay in the court below.\n\nHowever, the old king happened to be looking out of the window, and saw\nher in the yard below; and as she looked very pretty, and too delicate\nfor a waiting-maid, he went into the royal chamber to ask the bride whom\nit was she had brought with her, that was thus left standing in the\ncourt below. \"I brought her with me for the sake of her company on the\nroad,\" said she. \"Pray give the girl some work to do, that she may not\nbe idle.\" The old king could not for some time think of any work for\nher, but at last he said, \"I have a lad who takes care of my geese; she\nmay go and help him.\" Now the name of this lad, that the real bride was\nto help in watching the king's geese, was Curdken.\n\nSoon after, the false bride said to the prince, \"Dear husband, pray do\nme one piece of kindness.\" \"That I will,\" said the prince. \"Then tell\none of your slaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon,\nfor it was very unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road.\" But the truth\nwas, she was very much afraid lest Falada should speak, and tell all she\nhad done to the princess. She carried her point, and the faithful Falada\nwas killed; but when the true princess heard of it she wept, and begged\nthe man to nail up Falada's head against a large dark gate in the city\nthrough which she had to pass every morning and evening, that there she\nmight still see him sometimes. Then the slaughterer said he would do as\nshe wished, so he cut off the head and nailed it fast under the dark\ngate.\n\nEarly the next morning, as the princess and Curdken went out through the\ngate, she said sorrowfully--\n\n  \"Falada, Falada, there thou art hanging!\"\n\nand the head answered--\n\n  \"Bride, bride, there thou are ganging!\n  Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n  Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.\"\n\nThen they went out of the city, driving the geese. And when they came to\nthe meadow, the princess sat down upon a bank there and let down her\nwaving locks of hair, which were all of pure gold; and when Curdken saw\nit glitter in the sun, he ran up, and would have pulled some of the\nlocks out; but she cried--\n\n  \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n  Let Curdken's hat go!\n  Blow breezes, blow!\n  Let him after it go!\n\n  \"O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n  Away be it whirl'd,\n  Till the golden locks\n  Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nThen there came a wind, so strong that it blew off Curdken's hat, and\naway it flew over the hills, and he after it; till, by the time he came\nback, she had done combing and curling her hair, and put it up again\nsafely. Then he was very angry and sulky, and would not speak to her at\nall; but they watched the geese until it grew dark in the evening, and\nthen drove them homewards.\n\nThe next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor\ngirl looked up at Falada's head, and cried--\n\n  \"Falada, Falada, there thou art hanging!\"\n\nand it answered--\n\n  \"Bride, bride, there thou are ganging!\n  Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n  Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.\"\n\nThen she drove on the geese and sat down again in the meadow, and began\nto comb out her hair as before, and Curdken ran up to her, and wanted to\ntake of it; but she cried out quickly--\n\n  \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n  Let Curdken's hat go!\n  Blow breezes, blow!\n  Let him after it go!\n  O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n  Away be it whirl'd,\n  Till the golden locks\n  Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nThen the wind came and blew off his hat, and off it flew a great\ndistance over the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it:\nand when he came back, she had done up her hair again, and all was safe.\nSo they watched the geese till it grew dark.\n\nIn the evening, after they came home, Curdken went to the old king, and\nsaid, \"I cannot have that strange girl to help me to keep the geese any\nlonger.\"\n\n\"Why?\" inquired the king.\n\n\"Because she does nothing but tease me all day long.\"\n\nThen the king made him tell him all that had passed.\n\nAnd Curdken said, \"When we go in the morning through the dark gate with\nour flock of geese, she weeps, and talks with the head of a horse that\nhangs upon the wall, and says--\n\n  \"Falada, Falada, there thou art hanging!\"\n\nand the head answers--\n\n  \"Bride, bride, there thou are ganging!\n  Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n  Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.\"\n\nAnd Curdken went on telling the king what had happened upon the meadow\nwhere the geese fed; and how his hat was blown away, and he was forced\nto run after it, and leave his flock. But the old king told him to go\nout again as usual the next day: and when morning came, he placed\nhimself behind the dark gate, and heard how the princess spoke, and how\nFalada answered; and then he went into the field and hid himself in a\nbush by the meadow's side, and soon saw with his own eyes how they drove\nthe flock of geese, and how, after a little time, she let down her hair\nthat glittered in the sun; and then he heard her say--\n\n  \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n  Let Curdken's hat go!\n  Blow breezes, blow!\n  Let him after it go!\n  O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n  Away be it whirl'd,\n  Till the golden locks\n  Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nAnd soon came a gale of wind, and carried away Curdken's hat, while the\ngirl went on combing and curling her hair.\n\nAll this the old king saw; so he went home without being seen; and when\nthe goose-girl came back in the evening, he called her aside, and asked\nher why she did so; but she burst into tears, and said, \"That I must not\ntell you or any man, or I shall lose my life.\"\n\nBut the old king begged so hard that she had no peace till she had told\nhim all, word for word: and it was very lucky for her that she did so,\nfor the king ordered royal clothes to be put upon her, and he gazed with\nwonder, she was so beautiful.\n\nThen he called his son, and told him that he had only the false bride,\nfor that she was merely a waiting-maid, while the true one stood by.\n\nAnd the young king rejoiced when he saw her beauty, and heard how meek\nand patient she had been; and without saying anything, he ordered a\ngreat feast to be prepared for all his court.\n\nThe bridegroom sat at the top, with the false princess on one side, and\nthe true one on the other; but nobody knew her, for she was quite\ndazzling to their eyes, and was not at all like the little goose-girl,\nnow that she had on her brilliant dress.\n\nWhen they had eaten and drunk, and were very merry, the old king told\nall the story, as one that he had once heard of, and asked the true\nwaiting-maid what she thought ought to be done to anyone who would\nbehave thus.\n\n\"Nothing better,\" said this false bride, \"than that she should be thrown\ninto a cask stuck around with sharp nails, and that two white horses\nshould be put to it, and should drag it from street to street till she\nis dead.\"\n\n\"Thou art she!\" said the old king; \"and since thou hast judged thyself,\nit shall be so done to thee.\"\n\nThen the young king was married to his true wife, and they reigned over\nthe kingdom in peace and happiness all their lives.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER\n\n\nThere was once a little brother who took his Sister by the hand, and\nsaid, \"Since our own dear mother's death we have not had one happy hour;\nour stepmother beats us every day, and, when we come near her, kicks us\naway with her foot. Come, let us wander forth into the wide world.\" So\nall day long they travelled over meadows, fields, and stony roads. By\nthe evening they came into a large forest, and laid themselves down in a\nhollow tree, and went to sleep. When they awoke the next morning, the\nsun had already risen high in the heavens, and its beams made the tree\nso hot that the little boy said to his sister, \"I am so very thirsty,\nthat if I knew where there was a brook, I would go and drink. Ah! I\nthink I hear one running;\" and so saying, he got up, and taking his\nSister's hand they went to look for the brook.\n\nThe wicked stepmother, however, was a witch, and had witnessed the\ndeparture of the two children: so, sneaking after them secretly, as is\nthe habit of witches, she had enchanted all the springs in the forest.\n\nPresently they found a brook, which ran trippingly over the pebbles, and\nthe Brother would have drunk out of it, but the Sister heard how it said\nas it ran along, \"Who drinks of me will become a tiger!\" So the Sister\nexclaimed, \"I pray you, Brother, drink not, or you will become a tiger,\nand tear me to pieces!\" So the Brother did not drink, although his\nthirst was very great, and he said, \"I will wait till the next brook.\"\nAs they came to the second, the Sister heard it say, \"Who drinks of me\nbecomes a wolf!\" The Sister ran up crying, \"Brother, do not, pray do not\ndrink, or you will become a wolf and eat me up!\" Then the Brother did\nnot drink, saying, \"I will wait until we come to the next spring, but\nthen I must drink, you may say what you will; my thirst is much too\ngreat.\" Just as they reached the third brook, the Sister heard the voice\nsaying, \"Who drinks of me will become a fawn--who drinks of me will\nbecome a fawn!\" So the Sister said, \"Oh, my Brother do not drink, or you\nwill be changed into a fawn, and run away from me!\" But he had already\nkneeled down, and he drank of the water, and, as the first drops passed\nhis lips, his shape took that of a fawn.\n\nAt first the Sister wept over her little, changed Brother, and he wept\ntoo, and knelt by her, very sorrowful; but at last the maiden said, \"Be\nstill, dear little fawn, and I will never forsake you!\" and, taking off\nher golden garter, she placed it around his neck, and, weaving rushes,\nmade a girdle to lead him with. This she tied to him, and taking the\nother end in her hand, she led him away, and they travelled deeper and\ndeeper into the forest. After they had gone a long distance they came to\na little hut, and the maiden, peeping in, found it empty, and thought,\n\"Here we can stay and dwell.\" Then she looked for leaves and moss to\nmake a soft couch for the Fawn, and every morning she went out and\ncollected roots and berries and nuts for herself, and tender grass for\nthe Fawn. In the evening when the Sister was tired, and had said her\nprayers, she laid her head upon the back of the Fawn, which served for a\npillow, on which she slept soundly. Had but the Brother regained his own\nproper form, their lives would have been happy indeed.\n\nThus they dwelt in this wilderness, and some time had elapsed when it\nhappened that the King of the country had a great hunt in the forest;\nand now sounded through the trees the blowing of horns, the barking of\ndogs, and the lusty cry of the hunters, so that the little Fawn heard\nthem, and wanted very much to join in. \"Ah!\" said he to his Sister, \"let\nme go to the hunt, I cannot restrain myself any longer;\" and he begged\nso hard that at last she consented. \"But,\" she told him, \"return again\nin the evening, for I shall shut my door against the wild huntsmen, and,\nthat I may know you, do you knock, and say, 'Sister, dear, let me in,'\nand if you do not speak I shall not open the door.\"\n\nAs soon as she had said this, the little Fawn sprang off quite glad and\nmerry in the fresh breeze. The King and his huntsmen perceived the\nbeautiful animal, and pursued him; but they could not catch him, and\nwhen they thought they certainly had him, he sprang away over the\nbushes, and got out of sight. Just as it was getting dark, he ran up to\nthe hut, and, knocking, said, \"Sister mine, let me in.\" Then she\nunfastened the little door, and he went in, and rested all night long\nupon his soft couch. The next morning the hunt was commenced again, and\nas soon as the little Fawn heard the horns and the tally-ho of the\nsportsmen he could not rest, and said, \"Sister, dear, open the door; I\nmust be off.\" The Sister opened it, saying, \"Return at evening, mind,\nand say the words as before.\" When the King and his huntsmen saw him\nagain, the Fawn with the golden necklace, they followed him, close, but\nhe was too nimble and quick for them. The whole day long they kept up\nwith him, but towards evening the huntsmen made a circle around him, and\none wounded him slightly in the hinder foot, so that he could run but\nslowly. Then one of them slipped after him to the little hut, and heard\nhim say, \"Sister, dear, open the door,\" and saw that the door was opened\nand immediately shut behind him. The huntsman, having observed all this,\nwent and told the King what he had seen and heard, and he said, \"On the\nmorrow I will pursue him once again.\"\n\nThe Sister, however, was terribly afraid when she saw that her Fawn was\nwounded, and, washing off the blood, she put herbs upon the foot, and\nsaid, \"Go and rest upon your bed, dear Fawn, that your wound may heal.\"\nIt was so slight, that the next morning he felt nothing of it, and when\nhe heard the hunting cries outside, he exclaimed, \"I cannot stop away--I\nmust be there, and none shall catch me so easily again!\" The Sister wept\nvery much and told him, \"Soon will they kill you, and I shall be here\nalone in this forest, forsaken by all the world: I cannot let you go.\"\n\n\"I shall die here in vexation,\" answered the Fawn, \"if you do not, for\nwhen I hear the horn, I think I shall jump out of my skin.\" The Sister,\nfinding she could not prevent him, opened the door, with a heavy heart,\nand the Fawn jumped out, quite delighted, into the forest. As soon as\nthe King perceived him, he said to his huntsmen, \"Follow him all day\nlong till the evening, but let no one do him any harm.\" Then when the\nsun had set, the King asked his huntsman to show him the hut; and as\nthey came to it he knocked at the door and said, \"Let me in, dear\nSister.\" Upon this the door opened, and, stepping in, the King saw a\nmaiden more beautiful than he had ever beheld before. She was frightened\nwhen she saw not her Fawn, but a man enter, who had a golden crown upon\nhis head. But the King, looking at her with a kindly glance, held out to\nher his hand, saying, \"Will you go with me to my castle, and be my dear\nwife?\" \"Oh, yes,\" replied the maiden; \"but the Fawn must go too: him I\nwill never forsake.\" The King replied, \"He shall remain with you as long\nas you live, and shall never want.\"\n\nThe King took the beautiful maiden upon his horse, and rode to his\ncastle, where the wedding was celebrated with great splendor and she\nbecame Queen, and they lived together a long time; while the Fawn was\ntaken care of and played about the castle garden.\n\nThe wicked stepmother, however, on whose account the children had\nwandered forth into the world, had supposed that long ago the Sister had\nbeen torn into pieces by the wild beasts, and the little Brother in his\nFawn's shape hunted to death by the hunters. As soon, therefore, as she\nheard how happy they had become, and how everything prospered with them,\nenvy and jealousy were aroused in her wicked heart, and left her no\npeace; and she was always thinking in what way she could bring\nmisfortune upon them.\n\nHer own daughter, who was as ugly as night, and had but one eye, for\nwhich she was continually reproached, said, \"The luck of being a Queen\nhas never happened to me.\" \"Be quiet, now,\" replied the old woman, \"and\nmake yourself contented: when the time comes I will help and assist\nyou.\" As soon, then, as the time came when the Queen gave birth to a\nbeautiful little boy, which happened when the King was out hunting, the\nold witch took the form of a chambermaid, and got into the room where\nthe Queen was lying, and said to her, \"The bath is ready, which will\nrestore you and give you fresh strength; be quick before it gets cold.\"\nHer daughter being at hand, they carried the weak Queen between them\ninto the room, and laid her in the bath, and then, shutting the door,\nthey ran off; but first they made up an immense fire in the stove, which\nmust soon suffocate the poor young Queen.\n\nWhen this was done, the old woman took her daughter, and, putting a cap\nupon her head, laid her in the bed in the Queen's place. She gave her,\ntoo, the form and appearance of the real Queen, as far as she was able;\nbut she could not restore the lost eye, and, so that the King might not\nnotice it, she turned her upon that side where there was no eye.\n\nWhen midnight came, and every one was asleep, the nurse, who sat by\nherself, wide awake, near the cradle, in the nursery, saw the door open\nand the true Queen come in. She took the child in her arms, and rocked\nit a while, and then, shaking up its pillow, laid it down in its cradle,\nand covered it over again. She did not forget the Fawn, either, but\ngoing to the corner where he was, stroked his head, and then went\nsilently out of the door. The nurse asked in the morning of the guards\nif any one had passed into the castle during the night; but they\nanswered, \"No, we have not seen anybody.\" For many nights afterwards she\ncame constantly, but never spoke a word; and the nurse saw her always,\nbut she would not trust herself to speak about it to any one.\n\nWhen some time had passed away, the Queen one night began to speak, and\nsaid--\n\n  \"How fares my child! how fares my fawn?\n  Twice more will I come, but never again.\"\n\nThe nurse made no reply; but, when she had disappeared, went to the\nKing, and told him. The King exclaimed, \"Oh, mercy! what does this\nmean?--the next night I will watch myself by the child.\" So in the\nevening he went into the nursery, and about midnight the Queen appeared,\nand said--\n\n  \"How fares my child! how fares my fawn?\n  Once more will I come, but never again.\"\n\nAnd she nursed the child, as she usually did, and then disappeared. The\nKing dared not speak; but he watched the following night, and this time\nshe said--\n\n  \"How fares my child! how fares my fawn?\n  This time have I come, but never again.\"\n\nAt these words the King could hold back no longer, but, springing up,\ncried, \"You can be no other than my dear wife!\" Then she answered, \"Yes,\nI am your dear wife;\" and at that moment her life was restored by God's\nmercy, and she was again as beautiful and charming as ever. She told the\nKing the fraud which the witch and her daughter had practised upon him,\nand he had them both tried, and sentence was pronounced against them.\nThe little Fawn was disenchanted, and received once more his human form;\nand the Brother and Sister lived happily together to the end of their\ndays.\n\n\n\n\nHANSEL AND GRETHEL\n\n\nOnce upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor woodcutter, with\nhis wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called\nHansel, and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or bite;\nand once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could not\nprocure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one\nevening, rolling about for trouble, he sighed, and said to his wife,\n\"What will become of us? How can we feed our children, when we have no\nmore than we can eat ourselves?\"\n\n\"Know, then, my husband,\" answered she, \"we will lead them away, quite\nearly in the morning, into the thickest part of the wood, and there make\nthem a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread; then we will go\nto our work, and leave them alone, so they will not find the way home\nagain, and we shall be freed from them.\" \"No, wife,\" replied he, \"that I\ncan never do. How can you bring your heart to leave my children all\nalone in the wood, for the wild beasts will soon come and tear them to\npieces?\"\n\n\"Oh, you simpleton!\" said she, \"then we must all four die of hunger; you\nhad better plane the coffins for us.\" But she left him no peace till he\nconsented, saying, \"Ah, but I shall regret the poor children.\"\n\nThe two children, however, had not gone to sleep for very hunger, and so\nthey overheard what the stepmother said to their father. Grethel wept\nbitterly, and said to Hansel, \"What will become of us?\" \"Be quiet,\nGrethel,\" said he; \"do not cry--I will soon help you.\" And as soon as\ntheir parents had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his coat, and,\nunbarring the back door, slipped out. The moon shone brilliantly, and\nthe white pebbles which lay before the door seemed like silver pieces,\nthey glittered so brightly. Hansel stooped down, and put as many into\nhis pocket as it would hold; and then going back, he said to Grethel,\n\"Be comforted, dear sister, and sleep in peace; God will not forsake\nus.\" And so saying, he went to bed again.\n\nThe next morning, before the sun arose, the wife went and awoke the two\nchildren. \"Get up, you lazy things; we are going into the forest to chop\nwood.\" Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, \"There is\nsomething for your dinner; do not eat it before the time, for you will\nget nothing else.\" Grethel took the bread in her apron, for Hansel's\npocket was full of pebbles; and so they all set out upon their way. When\nthey had gone a little distance, Hansel stood still, and peeped back at\nthe house; and this he repeated several times, till his father said,\n\"Hansel, what are you peeping at, and why do you lag behind? Take care,\nand remember your legs.\"\n\n\"Ah, father,\" said Hansel, \"I am looking at my white cat sitting upon\nthe roof of the house, and trying to say good-bye.\" \"You simpleton!\"\nsaid the wife, \"that is not a cat; it is only the sun shining on the\nwhite chimney.\" But in reality Hansel was not looking at a cat; but\nevery time he stopped, he dropped a pebble out of his pocket upon the\npath.\n\nWhen they came to the middle of the forest, the father told the children\nto collect wood, and he would make them a fire, so that they should not\nbe cold. So Hansel and Grethel gathered together quite a little mountain\nof twigs. Then they set fire to them; and as the flame burnt up high,\nthe wife said, \"Now, you children, lie down near the fire, and rest\nyourselves, while we go into the forest and chop wood; when we are\nready, I will come and call you.\"\n\nHansel and Grethel sat down by the fire, and when it was noon, each ate\nthe piece of bread; and because they could hear the blows of an axe,\nthey thought their father was near: but it was not an axe, but a branch\nwhich he had bound to a withered tree, so as to be blown to and fro by\nthe wind. They waited so long that at last their eyes closed from\nweariness, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke, it was quite\ndark, and Grethel began to cry, \"How shall we get out of the wood?\" But\nHansel tried to comfort her by saying, \"Wait a little while till the\nmoon rises, and then we will quickly find the way.\" The moon soon shone\nforth, and Hansel, taking his sister's hand, followed the pebbles, which\nglittered like new-coined silver pieces, and showed them the path. All\nnight long they walked on, and as day broke they came to their father's\nhouse. They knocked at the door, and when the wife opened it, and saw\nHansel and Grethel, she exclaimed, \"You wicked children! why did you\nsleep so long in the wood? We thought you were never coming home again.\"\nBut their father was very glad, for it had grieved his heart to leave\nthem all alone.\n\nNot long afterward there was again great scarcity in every corner of the\nland; and one night the children overheard their stepmother saying to\ntheir father, \"Everything is again consumed; we have only half a loaf\nleft, and then the song is ended: the children must be sent away. We\nwill take them deeper into the wood, so that they may not find the way\nout again; it is the only means of escape for us.\"\n\nBut her husband felt heavy at heart, and thought, \"It were better to\nshare the last crust with the children.\" His wife, however, would listen\nto nothing that he said, and scolded and reproached him without end.\n\nHe who says A must say B too; and he who consents the first time must\nalso the second.\n\nThe children, however, had heard the conversation as they lay awake, and\nas soon as the old people went to sleep Hansel got up, intending to pick\nup some pebbles as before; but the wife had locked the door, so that he\ncould not get out. Nevertheless, he comforted Grethel, saying, \"Do not\ncry; sleep in quiet; the good God will not forsake us.\"\n\nEarly in the morning the stepmother came and pulled them out of bed, and\ngave them each a slice of bread, which was still smaller than the former\npiece. On the way, Hansel broke his in his pocket, and, stooping every\nnow and then, dropped a crumb upon the path. \"Hansel, why do you stop\nand look about?\" said the father; \"keep in the path.\" \"I am looking at\nmy little dove,\" answered Hansel, \"nodding a good-bye to me.\"\n\"Simpleton!\" said the wife, \"that is no dove, but only the sun shining\non the chimney.\" But Hansel still kept dropping crumbs as he went along.\n\nThe mother led the children deep into the wood, where they had never\nbeen before, and there making an immense fire, she said to them, \"Sit\ndown here and rest, and when you feel tired you can sleep for a little\nwhile. We are going into the forest to hew wood, and in the evening,\nwhen we are ready, we will come and fetch you.\"\n\nWhen noon came Grethel shared her bread with Hansel, who had strewn his\non the path. Then they went to sleep; but the evening arrived and no one\ncame to visit the poor children, and in the dark night they awoke, and\nHansel comforted his sister by saying, \"Only wait, Grethel, till the\nmoon comes out, then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have\ndropped, and they will show us the way home.\" The moon shone and they\ngot up, but they could not see any crumbs, for the thousands of birds\nwhich had been flying about in the woods and fields had picked them all\nup. Hansel kept saying to Grethel, \"We will soon find the way\"; but they\ndid not, and they walked the whole night long and the next day, but\nstill they did not come out of the wood; and they got so hungry, for\nthey had nothing to eat but the berries which they found upon the\nbushes. Soon they got so tired that they could not drag themselves\nalong, so they lay down under a tree and went to sleep.\n\nIt was now the third morning since they had left their father's house,\nand they still walked on; but they only got deeper and deeper into the\nwood, and Hansel saw that if help did not come very soon they would die\nof hunger. At about noonday they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting\nupon a bough, which sang so sweetly that they stood still and listened\nto it. It soon ceased, and spreading its wings flew off; and they\nfollowed it until it arrived at a cottage, upon the roof of which it\nperched; and when they went close up to it they saw that the cottage was\nmade of bread and cakes, and the window-panes were of clear sugar.\n\n\"We will go in there,\" said Hansel, \"and have a glorious feast. I will\neat a piece of the roof, and you can eat the window. Will they not be\nsweet?\" So Hansel reached up and broke a piece off the roof, in order to\nsee how it tasted, while Grethel stepped up to the window and began to\nbite it. Then a sweet voice called out in the room, \"Tip-tap, tip-tap,\nwho raps at my door?\" and the children answered, \"the wind, the wind,\nthe child of heaven\"; and they went on eating without interruption.\nHansel thought the roof tasted very nice, so he tore off a great piece;\nwhile Grethel broke a large round pane out of the window, and sat down\nquite contentedly. Just then the door opened, and a very old woman,\nwalking upon crutches, came out. Hansel and Grethel were so frightened\nthat they let fall what they had in their hands; but the old woman,\nnodding her head, said, \"Ah, you dear children, what has brought you\nhere? Come in and stop with me, and no harm shall befall you\"; and so\nsaying she took them both by the hand, and led them into her cottage. A\ngood meal of milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts, was spread\non the table, and in the back room were two nice little beds, covered\nwith white, where Hansel and Grethel laid themselves down, and thought\nthemselves in heaven. The old woman behaved very kindly to them, but in\nreality she was a wicked witch who waylaid children, and built the\nbread-house in order to entice them in, but as soon as they were in her\npower she killed them, cooked and ate them, and made a great festival of\nthe day. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see very far; but they have a\nfine sense of smelling, like wild beasts, so that they know when\nchildren approach them. When Hansel and Grethel came near the witch's\nhouse she laughed wickedly, saying, \"Here come two who shall not escape\nme.\" And early in the morning, before they awoke, she went up to them,\nand saw how lovingly they lay sleeping, with their chubby red cheeks,\nand she mumbled to herself, \"That will be a good bite.\" Then she took up\nHansel with her rough hands, and shut him up in a little cage with a\nlattice-door; and although he screamed loudly it was of no use. Grethel\ncame next, and, shaking her till she awoke, the witch said, \"Get up, you\nlazy thing, and fetch some water to cook something good for your\nbrother, who must remain in that stall and get fat; when he is fat\nenough I shall eat him.\" Grethel began to cry, but it was all useless,\nfor the old witch made her do as she wished. So a nice meal was cooked\nfor Hansel, but Grethel got nothing but a crab's claw.\n\nEvery morning the old witch came to the cage and said, \"Hansel, stretch\nout your finger that I may feel whether you are getting fat.\" But Hansel\nused to stretch out a bone, and the old woman, having very bad sight,\nthought it was his finger, and wondered very much that he did not get\nfatter. When four weeks had passed, and Hansel still kept quite lean,\nshe lost all her patience, and would not wait any longer. \"Grethel,\" she\ncalled out in a passion, \"get some water quickly; be Hansel fat or lean,\nthis morning I will kill and cook him.\" Oh, how the poor little sister\ngrieved, as she was forced to fetch the water, and fast the tears ran\ndown her cheeks! \"Dear good God, help us now!\" she exclaimed. \"Had we\nonly been eaten by the wild beasts in the wood, then we should have died\ntogether.\" But the old witch called out, \"Leave off that noise; it will\nnot help you a bit.\"\n\nSo early in the morning Grethel was forced to go out and fill the\nkettle, and make a fire. \"First, we will bake, however,\" said the old\nwoman; \"I have already heated the oven and kneaded the dough\"; and so\nsaying, she pushed poor Grethel up to the oven, out of which the flames\nwere burning fiercely. \"Creep in,\" said the witch, \"and see if it is hot\nenough, and then we will put in the bread\"; but she intended when\nGrethel got in to shut up the oven and let her bake, so that she might\neat her as well as Hansel. Grethel perceived what her thoughts were, and\nsaid, \"I do not know how to do it; how shall I get in?\" \"You stupid\ngoose,\" said she, \"the opening is big enough. See, I could even get in\nmyself!\" and she got up, and put her head into the oven. Then Grethel\ngave her a push, so that she fell right in, and then shutting the iron\ndoor she bolted it! Oh! how horribly she howled; but Grethel ran away,\nand left the ungodly witch to burn to ashes.\n\nNow she ran to Hansel, and, opening his door, called out, \"Hansel, we\nare saved; the old witch is dead!\" So he sprang out, like a bird out of\nhis cage when the door is opened; and they were so glad that they fell\nupon each other's neck, and kissed each other over and over again. And\nnow, as there was nothing to fear, they went into the witch's house,\nwhere in every corner were caskets full of pearls and precious stones.\n\"These are better than pebbles,\" said Hansel, putting as many into his\npocket as it would hold; while Grethel thought, \"I will take some too,\"\nand filled her apron full. \"We must be off now,\" said Hansel, \"and get\nout of this enchanted forest.\" But when they had walked for two hours\nthey came to a large piece of water. \"We cannot get over,\" said Hansel;\n\"I can see no bridge at all.\" \"And there is no boat, either,\" said\nGrethel; \"but there swims a white duck, and I will ask her to help us\nover.\" And she sang:\n\n  \"Little Duck, good little Duck,\n    Grethel and Hansel, here we stand;\n  There is neither stile nor bridge,\n    Take us on your back to land.\"\n\nSo the duck came to them, and Hansel sat himself on, and bade his sister\nsit behind him. \"No,\" answered Grethel, \"that will be too much for the\nduck; she shall take us over one at a time.\" This the good little bird\ndid, and when both were happily arrived on the other side, and had gone\na little way, they came to a well-known wood, which they knew the better\nevery step they went, and at last they perceived their father's house.\nThen they began to run, and, bursting into the house, they fell into\ntheir father's arms. He had not had one happy hour since he had left the\nchildren in the forest; and his wife was dead. Grethel shook her apron,\nand the pearls and precious stones rolled out upon the floor, and Hansel\nthrew down one handful after the other out of his pocket. Then all their\nsorrows were ended, and they lived together in great happiness.\n\nMy tale is done. There runs a mouse; whoever catches her may make a\ngreat, great cap out of her fur.\n\n\n\n\nOH, IF I COULD BUT SHIVER!\n\n\nA father had two sons, the elder of whom was forward and clever enough\nto do almost anything; but the younger was so stupid that he could learn\nnothing, and when the people saw him they said, \"Will thy father still\nkeep thee as a burden to him?\" So, if anything was to be done, the elder\nhad at all times to do it; but sometimes the father would call him to\nfetch something in the dead of night, and perhaps the way led through\nthe churchyard or by a dismal place, and then he used to answer, \"No,\nfather, I cannot go there, I am afraid,\" for he was a coward. Or\nsometimes of an evening, tales were told by the fireside which made one\nshudder, and the listeners exclaimed, \"Oh, it makes us shiver!\" In a\ncorner, meanwhile, sat the younger son, listening, but he could not\ncomprehend what was said, and he thought, \"They say continually, 'Oh, it\nmakes us shiver, it makes us shiver!' but perhaps shivering is an art\nwhich I cannot understand.\" One day, however, his father said to him,\n\"Do you hear, you there in the corner? You are growing stout and big;\nyou must learn some trade to get your living by. Do you see how your\nbrother works? But as for you, you are not worth malt and hops.\"\n\n\"Ah, father,\" answered he, \"I would willingly learn something. When\nshall I begin? I want to know what shivering means, for of that I can\nunderstand nothing.\"\n\nThe elder brother laughed when he heard this speech, and thought to\nhimself, \"Ah! my brother is such a simpleton that he cannot earn his own\nliving. He who would make a good hedge must learn betimes to bend.\" But\nthe father sighed and said, \"What shivering means you may learn soon\nenough, but you will never get your bread by that.\"\n\nSoon after the parish sexton came in for a gossip, so the father told\nhim his troubles, and how that his younger son was such a simpleton that\nhe knew nothing and could learn nothing. \"Just fancy, when I asked him\nhow he intended to earn his bread, he desired to learn what shivering\nmeant!\" \"Oh, if that be all,\" answered the sexton, \"he can learn that\nsoon enough with me; just send him to my place, and I will soon teach\nhim.\" The father was very glad, because he thought that it would do the\nboy good; so the sexton took him home to ring the bells. About two days\nafterward he called him up at midnight to go into the church-tower to\ntoll the bell. \"You shall soon learn what shivering means,\" thought the\nsexton, and getting up he went out too. As soon as the boy reached the\nbelfry, and turned himself round to seize the rope, he saw upon the\nstairs, near the sounding-hole, a white figure. \"Who's there?\" he called\nout; but the figure gave no answer, and neither stirred nor spoke.\n\"Answer,\" said the boy, \"or make haste off; you have no business here\nto-night.\" But the sexton did not stir, so that the boy might think it\nwas a ghost.\n\nThe boy called out a second time, \"What are you doing here? Speak, if\nyou are an honest fellow, or else I will throw you downstairs.\"\n\nThe sexton said to himself, \"That is not a bad thought\"; but he remained\nquiet as if he were a stone. Then the boy called out for the third time,\nbut it produced no effect; so, making a spring, he threw the ghost down\nthe stairs, so that it rolled ten steps, and then lay motionless in a\ncorner. Thereupon he rang the bell, and then going home, he went to bed\nwithout saying a word, and fell fast asleep. The sexton's wife waited\nsome time for her husband, but he did not come; so at last she became\nanxious, woke the boy, and asked him if he knew where her husband was,\nwho had gone before him to the belfry.\n\n\"No,\" answered the boy; \"but there was someone standing on the steps who\nwould not give any answer, nor go away, so I took him for a thief and\nthrew him downstairs. Go now and see where he is; perhaps it may be he,\nbut I should be sorry for it.\" The wife ran off and found her husband\nlying in a corner, groaning, with one of his ribs broken.\n\nShe took him up and ran with loud outcries to the boy's father, and said\nto him, \"Your son has brought a great misfortune on us; he has thrown my\nhusband down and broken his bones. Take the good-for-nothing fellow from\nour house.\"\n\nThe terrified father came in haste and scolded the boy. \"What do these\nwicked tricks mean? They will only bring misfortune upon you.\"\n\n\"Father,\" answered the lad, \"hear me! I am quite innocent. He stood\nthere at midnight like one who had done some evil; I did not know who it\nwas, and cried three times, 'Speak, or be off!'\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the father, \"everything goes badly with you. Get out of my\nsight; I do not wish to see you again!\"\n\n\"Yes, father, willingly; wait but one day, then I will go out and learn\nwhat shivering means, that I may at least understand one business which\nwill support me.\"\n\n\"Learn what you will,\" replied the father, \"all is the same to me. Here\nare fifty dollars; go forth with them into the world, and tell no man\nwhence you came, or who your father is, for I am ashamed of you.\"\n\n\"Yes, father, as you wish; but if you desire nothing else, I shall\nesteem that very lightly.\"\n\nAs soon as day broke the youth put his fifty dollars into a knapsack and\nwent out upon the high road, saying continually, \"Oh, if I could but\nshiver!\"\n\nPresently a man came up, who heard the boy talking to himself; and, as\nthey we're just passing the place where the gallows stood, the man said,\n\"Do you see? There is the tree where seven fellows have married the\nhempen maid, and now swing to and fro. Sit yourself down there and wait\ntill midnight, and then you will know what it is to shiver!\"\n\n\"Oh, if that be all,\" answered the boy, \"I can very easily do that! But\nif I learn so speedily what shivering is, then you shall have my fifty\ndollars if you come again in the morning.\"\n\nThen the boy went to the gallows, sat down, and waited for evening, and\nas he felt cold he made a fire. But about midnight the wind blew so\nsharp, that in spite of the fire he could not keep himself warm. The\nwind blew the bodies against one another, so that they swung backward\nand forward, and he thought, \"If I am cold here below by the fire, how\nmust they freeze above!\" So his compassion was excited, and, contriving\na ladder, he mounted, and, unloosening them one after another, he\nbrought down all seven. Then he poked and blew the fire, and set them\nround that they might warm themselves; but as they sat still without\nmoving their clothing caught fire. So he said, \"Take care of yourselves,\nor I will hang all of you up again.\" The dead heard not, and silently\nallowed their rags to burn. This made him so angry that he said, \"If you\nwill not hear I cannot help you; but I will not burn with you.\" So he\nhung them up again in a row, and sitting down by the fire he soon went\nto sleep. The next morning the man came, expecting to receive his fifty\ndollars, and asked, \"Now do you know what shivering means?\" \"No,\" he\nanswered; \"how should I know? Those fellows up there have not opened\ntheir mouths, and were so stupid that they let the old rags on their\nbodies be burnt.\" Then the man saw that he should not carry away the\nfifty dollars that day, so he went away saying, \"I never met with such a\none before.\"\n\nThe boy also went on his way and began again to say, \"Ah, if only I\ncould but shiver--if I could but shiver!\" A wagoner walking behind\noverheard him, and asked, \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" answered the boy.\n\nThe wagoner asked again, \"What do you here?\"\n\n\"I know not.\"\n\n\"Who is your father?\"\n\n\"I dare not say.\"\n\n\"What is it you are continually grumbling about?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" replied the youth, \"I wish to learn what shivering is, but nobody\ncan teach me.\"\n\n\"Cease your silly talk,\" said the wagoner. \"Come with me, and I will see\nwhat I can do for you.\" So the boy went with the wagoner, and about\nevening time they arrived at an inn where they put up for the night, and\nwhile they were going into the parlor he said, quite aloud, \"Oh, if I\ncould but shiver--if I could but shiver!\" The host overheard him and\nsaid, laughingly, \"Oh, if that is all you wish, you shall soon have the\nopportunity.\" \"Hold your tongue,\" said his wife; \"so many imprudent\npeople have already lost their lives, it were a shame and sin to such\nbeautiful eyes that they should not see the light again.\" But the youth\nsaid, \"If it were ever so difficult I would at once learn it; for that\nreason I left home\"; and he never let the host have any peace till he\ntold him that not far off stood an enchanted castle, where any one might\nsoon learn to shiver if he would watch there three nights. The King had\npromised his daughter in marriage to whoever would venture, and she was\nthe most beautiful young lady that the sun ever shone upon. And he\nfurther told him that inside the castle there was an immense amount of\ntreasure guarded by evil spirits; enough to make any one free, and turn\na poor man into a very rich one. Many, he added, had already ventured\ninto this castle, but no one had ever come out again.\n\nThe next morning this youth went to the King, and said, \"If you will\nallow me, I wish to watch three nights in the enchanted castle.\" The\nKing looked at him, and because his appearance pleased him, he said,\n\"You may make three requests, but they must be inanimate things you ask\nfor, and such as you can take with you into the castle.\" So the youth\nasked for a fire, a lathe, and a cutting-board.\n\nThe King let him take these things by day into the castle, and when it\nwas evening the youth went in and made himself a bright fire in one of\nthe rooms, and, placing his cutting-board and knife near it, he sat down\nupon his lathe. \"Ah, if I could but shiver!\" said he. \"But even here I\nshall never learn.\" At midnight he got up to stir the fire, and, as he\npoked it, there shrieked suddenly in one corner, \"Miau, miau! how cold I\nam!\" \"You simpleton!\" he exclaimed, \"what are you shrieking for? If you\nare so cold come and sit down by the fire and warm yourself!\" As he was\nspeaking, two great black cats sprang up to him with an immense jump and\nsat down one on each side, looking at him quite wildly with their fiery\neyes. When they had warmed themselves for a little while they said,\n\"Comrade, shall we have a game of cards?\" \"Certainly,\" he replied; \"but\nlet me see your paws first.\" So they stretched out their claws, and he\nsaid, \"Ah, what long nails you have got; wait a bit, I must cut them off\nfirst\"; and so saying he caught them up by the necks, and put them on\nhis board and screwed their feet down. \"Since I have seen what you are\nabout I have lost my relish for a game at cards,\" said he; and,\ninstantly killing them, threw them away into the water. But no sooner\nhad he quieted these two and thought of sitting down again by his fire,\nthan there came out of every hole and corner black cats and black dogs\nwith glowing chains, continually more and more, so that he could not\nhide himself. They howled fearfully, and jumped upon his fire, and\nscattered it about as if they would extinguish it. He looked on quietly\nfor some time, but at last, getting angry, he took up his knife and\ncalled out, \"Away with you, you vagabonds!\" and chased them about until\na part ran off, and the rest he killed and threw into the pond. As soon\nas he returned he blew up the sparks of his fire again and warmed\nhimself, and while he sat his eyes began to feel very heavy and he\nwished to go to sleep. So looking around he saw a great bed in one\ncorner, in which he lay down; but no sooner had he closed his eyes, than\nthe bed began to move of itself and travelled all round the castle.\n\"Just so,\" said he, \"only better still\"; whereupon the bed galloped away\nas if six horses pulled it up and down steps and stairs, until at last,\nall at once, it overset, bottom upward, and lay upon him like a\nmountain; but up he got, threw pillows and mattresses into the air, and\nsaying, \"Now he who wishes may travel,\" laid himself down by the fire\nand slept till day broke. In the morning the King came, and, seeing the\nyouth lying on the ground, he thought that the spectres had killed him,\nand that he was dead; so he said, \"It is a great misfortune that the\nfinest men are thus killed\"; but the youth, hearing this, sprang up,\nsaying, \"It is not come to that with me yet!\" The King was much\nastonished, but very glad, and asked him how he had fared. \"Very well,\"\nreplied he; \"as one night has passed, so also may the other two.\" Soon\nafter he met his landlord, who opened his eyes when he saw him. \"I never\nthought to see you alive again,\" said he; \"have you learnt now what\nshivering means?\" \"No,\" said he; \"it is all of no use. Oh, if any one\nwould but tell me!\"\n\nThe second night he went up again into the castle, and sitting down by\nthe fire, began his old song, \"If I could but shiver!\" When midnight\ncame, a ringing and a rattling noise was heard, gentle at first and\nlouder and louder by degrees; then there was a pause, and presently with\na loud outcry half a man's body came down the chimney and fell at his\nfeet. \"Holloa,\" he exclaimed; \"only half a man answered that ringing;\nthat is too little.\" Then the ringing began afresh, and a roaring and\nhowling was heard, and the other half fell down. \"Wait a bit,\" said he;\n\"I will poke up the fire first.\" When he had done so and looked round\nagain, the two pieces had joined themselves together, and an ugly man\nwas sitting in his place. \"I did not bargain for that,\" said the youth;\n\"the bench is mine.\" The man tried to push him away, but the youth would\nnot let him, and giving him a violent push sat himself down in his old\nplace. Presently more men fell down the chimney, one after the other,\nwho brought nine thigh-bones and two skulls, which they set up, and then\nthey began to play at ninepins. At this the youth wished also to play,\nso he asked whether he might join them. \"Yes, if you have money!\" \"Money\nenough,\" he replied, \"but your balls are not quite round\"; so saying he\ntook up the skulls, and, placing them on his lathe, turned them round.\n\"Ah, now you will roll well,\" said he. \"Holloa! now we will go at it\nmerrily.\" So he played with them and lost some of his money, but as it\nstruck twelve everything disappeared. Then he lay down and went to sleep\nquietly. On the morrow the King came for news, and asked him how he had\nfared this time. \"I have been playing ninepins,\" he replied, \"and lost a\ncouple of dollars.\" \"Have you not shivered?\" \"No! I have enjoyed myself\nvery much; but I wish some one would teach me that!\"\n\nOn the third night he sat down again on his bench, saying in great\nvexation, \"Oh, if I could only shiver!\" When it grew late, six tall men\ncame in bearing a coffin between them. \"Ah, ah,\" said he, \"that is\nsurely my little cousin, who died two days ago\"; and beckoning with his\nfinger he called, \"Come, little cousin, come!\" The men set down the\ncoffin upon the ground, and he went up and took off the lid, and there\nlay a dead man within, and as he felt the face it was as cold as ice.\n\"Stop a moment,\" he cried; \"I will warm it in a trice\"; and stepping up\nto the fire he warmed his hands, and then laid them upon the face, but\nit remained cold. So he took up the body, and sitting down by the fire,\nhe laid it on his lap and rubbed the arms that the blood might circulate\nagain. But all this was of no avail, and he thought to himself if two\nlie in a bed together they warm each other; so he put the body in the\nbed, and covering it up laid himself down by its side. After a little\nwhile the body became warm and began to move about. \"See, my cousin,\" he\nexclaimed, \"have I not warmed you?\" But the body got up and exclaimed,\n\"Now I will strangle you.\" \"Is that your gratitude?\" cried the youth.\n\"Then you shall get into your coffin again\"; and taking it up, he threw\nthe body in, and made the lid fast. Then the six men came in again and\nbore it away. \"Oh, deary me,\" said he, \"I shall never be able to shiver\nif I stop here all my lifetime!\" At these words in came a man who was\ntaller than all the others, and looked more horrible; but he was very\nold and had a long white beard. \"Oh, you wretch,\" he exclaimed, \"now\nthou shalt learn what shivering means, for thou shalt die!\"\n\n\"Not so quick,\" answered the youth; \"if I die I must be brought to it\nfirst.\"\n\n\"I will quickly seize you,\" replied the ugly one.\n\n\"Softly, softly; be not too sure. I am as strong as you, and perhaps\nstronger.\"\n\n\"That we will see,\" said the ugly man. \"If you are stronger than I, I\nwill let you go; come, let us try\"; and he led him away through a dark\npassage to a smith's forge. Then taking up an axe he cut through the\nanvil at one blow down to the ground. \"I can do that still better,\" said\nthe youth, and went to another anvil, while the old man followed him and\nwatched him, with his long beard hanging down. Then the youth took up an\naxe, and, splitting the anvil at one blow, wedged the old man's beard in\nit. \"Now I have you; now death comes upon you!\" and taking up an iron\nbar he beat the old man until he groaned, and begged him to stop, and he\nwould give him great riches. So the youth drew out the axe, and let him\nloose. Then the old man, leading him back into the castle, showed him\nthree chests full of gold in a cellar. \"One share of this,\" said he,\n\"belongs to the poor, another to the King, and a third to yourself.\" And\njust then it struck twelve and the old man vanished, leaving the youth\nin the dark. \"I must help myself out here,\" said he, and groping round\nhe found his way back to his room and went to sleep by the fire.\n\nThe next morning the King came and inquired, \"Now have you learnt to\nshiver?\" \"No,\" replied the youth; \"what is it? My dead cousin came here,\nand a bearded man, who showed me a lot of gold down below; but what\nshivering means, no one has showed me!\" Then the King said, \"You have\nwon the castle, and shall marry my daughter.\"\n\n\"That is all very fine,\" replied the youth, \"but still I don't know what\nshivering means.\"\n\nSo the gold was fetched, and the wedding was celebrated, but the young\nPrince (for the youth was a Prince now), notwithstanding his love for\nhis bride, and his great contentment, was still continually crying, \"If\nI could but shiver! if I could but shiver!\" At last it fell out in this\nwise: one of the chambermaids said to the Princess, \"Let me bring in my\naid to teach him what shivering is.\" So she went to the brook which\nflowed through the garden, and drew up a pail of water full of little\nfish; and, at night, when the young Prince was asleep, his bride drew\naway the covering and poured the pail of cold water and the little\nfishes over him, so that they slipped all about him. Then the Prince\nwoke up directly, calling out, \"Oh! that makes me shiver! dear wife,\nthat makes me shiver! Yes, now I know what shivering means!\"\n\n\n\n\nDUMMLING AND THE THREE FEATHERS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King who had three sons; the two elder\nwere learned and bright, but the youngest said very little and appeared\nsomewhat foolish, so he was always known as Dummling.\n\nWhen the King grew old and feeble, feeling that he was nearing his end,\nhe wished to leave the crown to one of his three sons, but could not\ndecide to which. He thereupon settled that they should travel, and that\nthe one who could obtain the most splendid carpet should ascend the\nthrone when he died.\n\nSo that there could be no disagreement as to the way each one should go,\nthe King conducted them to the courtyard of the Palace, and there blew\nthree feathers, by turn, into the air, telling his sons to follow the\ncourse that the three feathers took.\n\nThen one of the feathers flew eastwards, another westwards, but the\nthird went straight up towards the sky, though it only sped a short\ndistance before falling to earth.\n\nTherefore one son travelled towards the east, and the second went to the\nwest, both making fun of poor Dummling, who was obliged to stay where\nhis feather had fallen. Then Dummling, sitting down and feeling rather\nmiserable after his brothers had gone, looked about him, and noticed\nthat near to where his feather lay was a trap-door. On lifting this up\nhe perceived a flight of steps, down which he went. At the bottom was\nanother door, so he knocked upon it, and then heard a voice calling--\n\n  \"Maiden, fairest, come to me,\n  Make haste to ope the door,\n  A mortal surely you will see,\n  From the world above is he,\n  We'll help him from our store.\"\n\nAnd then the door was flung open, and the young man found himself facing\na big toad sitting in the centre of a number of young toads. The big\ntoad addressed him, asking him what he wanted.\n\nDummling, though rather surprised when he saw the toads, and heard them\nquestion him, being good-hearted replied politely--\n\n\"I am desirous to obtain the most splendid carpet in the world; just now\nit would be extremely useful to me.\"\n\nThe toad who had just spoken, called to a young toad, saying--\n\n  \"Maiden, fairest, come to me,\n  'Tis a mortal here you see;\n  Let us speed all his desires,\n  Giving him what he requires.\"\n\nImmediately the young toad fetched a large box. This the old one opened,\nand took out an exquisite carpet, of so beautiful a design, that it\ncertainly could have been manufactured nowhere upon the earth.\n\nTaking it with grateful thanks, Dummling went up the flight of steps,\nand was once more in the Palace courtyard.\n\nThe two elder brothers, being of the opinion that the youngest was so\nfoolish that he was of no account whatever in trying to obtain the\nthrone, for they did not think he would find anything at all, had said\nto each other:\n\n\"It is not necessary for us to trouble much in looking for the carpet!\"\nso they took from the shoulders of the first peasant they came across a\ncoarse shawl, and this they carried to their father.\n\nAt the same time Dummling appeared with his beautiful carpet, which he\npresented to the King, who was very much surprised, and said--\n\n\"By rights the throne should be for my youngest son.\"\n\nBut when the two brothers heard this, they gave the old King no rest,\nsaying--\n\n\"How is it possible that Dummling, who is not at all wise, could control\nthe affairs of an important kingdom? Make some other condition, we beg\nof you!\"\n\n\"Well,\" agreed the father, \"the one who brings me the most magnificent\nring shall succeed to my throne,\" and once more he took his sons outside\nthe Palace. Then, again, he blew three feathers into the air to show the\ndirection each one should go; whereupon the two elder sons went east and\nwest, but Dummling's flew straight up, and fell close by the trap-door.\nThen the youngest son descended the steps as before, and upon seeing the\nlarge toad he talked with her, and told her what he desired. So the big\nbox was brought, and out of it the toad handed him a ring which was of\nso exquisite a workmanship that no goldsmith's could equal it.\n\nMeanwhile the two elder brothers made fun of the idea of Dummling\nsearching for a ring, and they decided to take no needless trouble\nthemselves.\n\nTherefore, finding an old iron ring belonging to some harness, they took\nthat to the King. Dummling was there before them with his valuable ring,\nand immediately upon his showing it, the father declared that in justice\nthe kingdom should be his.\n\nIn spite of this, however, the two elder sons worried the poor King into\nappointing one test further, before bestowing his kingdom, and the King,\ngiving way, announced that the one who brought home the most beautiful\nwoman should inherit the crown.\n\nThen Dummling again descended to the large toad and made known to her\nthat he wished to find the most beautiful woman alive.\n\n\"The most beautiful woman is not always at hand,\" said the toad,\n\"however, you shall have her.\"\n\nThen she gave to him a scooped-out turnip to which half a dozen little\nmice were attached. The young man regarded this a trifle despondently,\nfor it had no great resemblance to what he was seeking.\n\n\"What can I make of this?\" he asked.\n\n\"Only place in it one of my young toads,\" replied the large toad, \"and\nthen you can decide how to use it.\"\n\nFrom the young toads around the old toad, the young man seized one at\nhazard, and placed it in the scooped-out turnip, but hardly was it there\nwhen the most astounding change occurred, for the toad was transformed\ninto a wondrously lovely maiden, the turnip became an elegant carriage,\nand the six mice were turned into handsome horses. The young man kissed\nthe maiden and drove off to bring her to the King.\n\nNot long afterwards the two brothers arrived.\n\nIn the same way, as the twice before, they had taken no trouble about\nthe matter, but had picked up the first passable looking peasant woman\nwhom they had happened to meet.\n\nAfter glancing at the three, the King said: \"Without doubt, at my death\nthe kingdom will be Dummling's.\"\n\nOnce more the brothers loudly expressed their discontent, and gave the\nKing no peace, declaring--\n\n\"It is impossible for us to agree to Dummling becoming ruler of the\nkingdom,\" and they insisted that the women should be required to spring\nthrough a hoop which was suspended from the ceiling in the centre of the\nhall, thinking to themselves \"Now, certainly our peasants will get the\nbest of it, they are active and sturdy, but that fragile lady will kill\nherself if she jumps.\"\n\nTo this, again, the King consented, and the peasants were first given\ntrial.\n\nThey sprang through the hoop, indeed, but so clumsily that they fell,\nbreaking their arms and legs.\n\nUpon which the lovely lady whom Dummling had brought home, leapt through\nas lightly as a fawn, and this put an end to all contention.\n\nSo the crown came to Dummling, who lived long, and ruled his people\ntemperately and justly.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE SNOW WHITE\n\n\nIt was in the middle of winter, when the broad flakes of snow were\nfalling around, that a certain queen sat working at her window, the\nframe of which was made of fine black ebony; and, as she was looking out\nupon the snow, she pricked her finger, and three drops of blood fell\nupon it. Then she gazed thoughtfully down on the red drops which\nsprinkled the white snow and said, \"Would that my little daughter may be\nas white as that snow, as red as the blood, and as black as the ebony\nwindow-frame!\" And so the little girl grew up; her skin was a white as\nsnow, her cheeks as rosy as blood, and her hair as black as ebony; and\nshe was called Snow-White.\n\nBut this queen died; and the king soon married another wife, who was\nvery beautiful, but so proud that she could not bear to think that any\none could surpass her. She had a magical looking-glass, to which she\nused to go and gaze upon herself in it, and say--\n\n  \"Tell me, glass, tell me true!\n    Of all the ladies in the land,\n  Who is fairest? tell me who?\"\n\nAnd the glass answered, \"Thou, Queen, art fairest in the land\"\n\nBut Snow-White grew more and more beautiful; and when she was seven\nyears old, she was as bright as the day, and fairer than the queen\nherself. Then the glass one day answered queen, when she went to consult\nit as usual--\n\n  \"Thou, Queen, may'st fair and beauteous be,\n  But Snow-White is lovelier far than thee?\"\n\nWhen the queen heard this she turned pale with rage and envy; and\ncalling to one of her servants said, \"Take Snow-White away into the wide\nwood, that I may never see her more.\" Then the servant led the little\ngirl away; but his heart melted when she begged him to spare her life,\nand he said, \"I will not hurt thee, thou pretty child.\" So he left her\nthere alone; and though he thought it most likely that the wild beasts\nwould tear her to pieces, he felt as if a great weight were taken off\nhis heart when he had made up his mind not to kill her, but leave her to\nher fate.\n\nThen poor Snow-White wandered along through the wood in great fear; and\nthe wild beasts roared around, but none did her any harm. In the evening\nshe came to a little cottage, and went in there to rest, for her weary\nfeet would carry her no further. Everything was spruce and neat in the\ncottage: on the table was spread a white cloth, and there were seven\nlittle plates with seven little loaves and seven little glasses with\nwine in them; and knives and forks laid in order, and by the wall stood\nseven little beds. Then, as she was exceedingly hungry, she picked a\nlittle piece off each loaf, and drank a very little wine out of each\nglass; and after that she thought she would lie down and rest. So she\ntried all the little beds; and one was too long, and another was too\nshort, till, at last, the seventh suited her; and there she laid herself\ndown and went to sleep. Presently in came the masters of the cottage,\nwho were seven little dwarfs that lived among the mountains, and dug and\nsearched about for gold. They lighted up their seven lamps, and saw\ndirectly that all was not right. The first said, \"Who has been sitting\non my stool?\" The second, \"Who has been eating off my plate?\" The third,\n\"Who has been picking at my bread?\" The fourth, \"Who has been meddling\nwith my spoon?\" The fifth, \"Who has been handling my fork?\" The sixth,\n\"Who has been cutting with my knife?\" The seventh, \"Who has been\ndrinking my wine?\" Then the first looked around and said, \"Who has been\nlying on my bed?\" And the rest came running to him, and every one cried\nout that somebody had been upon his bed. But the seventh saw Snow-White,\nand called upon his brethren to come and look at her; and they cried out\nwith wonder and astonishment, and brought their lamps and gazing upon\nher, they said, \"Good heavens! what a lovely child she is!\" And they\nwere delighted to see her, and took care not to waken her; and the\nseventh dwarf slept an hour with each of the other dwarfs in turn, till\nthe night was gone.\n\nIn the morning Snow-White told them all her story, and they pitied her,\nand said if she would keep all things in order, and cook and wash, and\nknit and spin for them, she might stay where she was, and they would\ntake good care of her. Then they went out all day long to their work,\nseeking for gold and silver in the mountains; and Snow-White remained at\nhome; and they warned her, saying, \"The queen will soon find out where\nyou are, so take care and let no one in.\" But the queen, now that she\nthought Snow-White was dead, believed that she was certainly the\nhandsomest lady in the land; so she went to her glass and said--\n\n  \"Tell me, glass, tell me true!\n    Of all the ladies in the land,\n  Who is fairest? tell me who?\"\n\nAnd the glass answered--\n\n  \"Thou, Queen, thou are fairest in all this land;\n  But over the Hills, in the greenwood shade,\n  Where the seven dwarfs their dwelling have made,\n  There Snow-White is hiding; and she\n  Is lovelier far, O Queen, than thee.\"\n\nThen the queen was very much alarmed; for she knew that the glass always\nspoke the truth, and she was sure that the servant had betrayed her. And\nas she could not bear to think that any one lived who was more beautiful\nthan she was, she disguised herself as an old pedlar woman and went her\nway over the hills to the place where the dwarfs dwelt. Then she knocked\nat the door and cried, \"Fine wares to sell!\" Snow-White looked out of\nthe window, and said, \"Good day, good woman; what have you to sell?\"\n\"Good wares, fine wares,\" replied she; \"laces and bobbins of all\ncolors.\" \"I will let the old lady in; she seems to be a very good sort\nof a body,\" thought Snow-White; so she ran down, and unbolted the door.\n\"Bless me!\" said the woman, \"how badly your stays are laced. Let me lace\nthem up with one of my nice new laces.\" Snow-White did not dream of any\nmischief; so she stood up before the old woman who set to work so\nnimbly, and pulled the lace so tightly that Snow-White lost her breath,\nand fell down as if she were dead. \"There's an end of all thy beauty,\"\nsaid the spiteful queen, and went away home.\n\nIn the evening the seven dwarfs returned; and I need not say how grieved\nthey were to see their faithful Snow-White stretched upon the ground\nmotionless, as if she were quite dead. However, they lifted her up, and\nwhen they found what was the matter, they cut the lace; and in a little\ntime she began to breathe, and soon came to herself again. Then they\nsaid, \"The old woman was the queen; take care another time, and let no\none in when we are away.\"\n\nWhen the queen got home, she went to her glass, and spoke to it, but to\nher surprise it replied in the same words as before.\n\nThen the blood ran cold in her heart with spite and malice to hear that\nSnow-White still lived; and she dressed herself up again in a disguise,\nbut very different from the one she wore before, and took with her a\npoisoned comb. When she reached the dwarfs' cottage, she knocked at the\ndoor, and cried, \"Fine wares to sell!\" but Snow-White said, \"I dare not\nlet any one in.\" Then the queen said, \"Only look at my beautiful combs;\"\nand gave her the poisoned one. And it looked so pretty that the little\ngirl took it up and put it into her hair to try it; but the moment it\ntouched her head the poison was so powerful that she fell down\nsenseless. \"There you may lie,\" said the queen, and went her way. But by\ngood luck the dwarfs returned very early that evening; and when they saw\nSnow-White lying on the ground, they thought what had happened, and soon\nfound the poisoned comb. And when they took it away, she recovered, and\ntold them all that had passed; and they warned her once more not to open\nthe door to any one.\n\nMeantime the queen went home to her glass, and trembled with rage when\nshe received exactly the same answer as before; and she said,\n\"Snow-White shall die, if it costs me my life.\" So she went secretly\ninto a chamber, and prepared a poisoned apple: the outside looked very\nrosy and tempting, but whosoever tasted it was sure to die. Then she\ndressed herself up as a peasant's wife, and travelled over the hills to\nthe dwarfs' cottage, and knocked at the door; but Snow-White put her\nhead out of the window, and said, \"I dare not let any one in, for the\ndwarfs have told me not to.\" \"Do as you please,\" said the old woman,\n\"but at any rate take this pretty apple; I will make you a present of\nit.\" \"No,\" said Snow-White, \"I dare not take it.\" \"You silly girl!\"\nanswered the other, \"what are you afraid of? do you think it is\npoisoned? Come! do you eat one part, and I will eat the other.\" Now the\napple was so prepared that one side was good, though the other side was\npoisoned. Then Snow-White was very much tempted to taste, for the apple\nlooked exceedingly nice; and when she saw the old woman eat, she could\nrefrain no longer. But she had scarcely put the piece into her mouth\nwhen she fell down dead upon the ground. \"This time nothing will save\nthee,\" said the queen; and she went home to her glass, and at last it\nsaid--\"Thou, Queen, art the fairest of all the fair.\" And then her\nenvious heart was glad, and as happy as such a heart could be.\n\nWhen evening came, and the dwarfs returned home, they found Snow-White\nlying on the ground; no breath passed her lips, and they were afraid\nthat she was quite dead. They lifted her up, and combed her hair, and\nwashed her face with wine and water; but all was in vain. So they laid\nher down upon a bier, and all seven watched and bewailed her three whole\ndays; and then they proposed to bury her; but her cheeks were still\nrosy, and her face looked just as it did while she was alive; so they\nsaid, \"We will never bury her in the cold ground.\" And they made a\ncoffin of glass so that they might still look at her, and wrote her name\nupon it in golden letters, and that she was a king's daughter. Then the\ncoffin was placed upon the hill, and one of the dwarfs always sat by it\nand watched. And the birds of the air came, too, and bemoaned\nSnow-White. First of all came an owl, and then a raven, but at last came\na dove.\n\nAnd thus Snow-White lay for a long, long time, and still only looked as\nthough she were asleep; for she was even now as white as snow, and as\nred as blood, and as black as ebony. At last a prince came and called at\nthe dwarfs' house; and he saw Snow-White and read what was written in\ngolden letters. Then he offered the dwarfs money, and earnestly prayed\nthem to let him take her away; but they said, \"We will not part with her\nfor all the gold in the world.\" At last, however, they had pity on him,\nand gave him the coffin; but the moment he lifted it up to carry it home\nwith him, the piece of apple fell from between her lips, and Snow-White\nawoke, and exclaimed, \"Where am I!\" And the prince answered, \"Thou art\nsafe with me.\" Then he told her all that had happened, and said, \"I love\nyou better than all the world; come with me to my father's palace, and\nyou shall be my wife.\" Snow-White consented, and went home with the\nprince; and everything was prepared with great pomp and splendor for\ntheir wedding.\n\nTo the feast was invited, among the rest, Snow-White's old enemy, the\nqueen; and as she was dressing herself in fine, rich clothes, she looked\nin the glass and said, \"Tell me, glass, tell me true! Of all the ladies\nin the land, Who is fairest? tell me who?\" And the glass answered,\n\"Thou, lady, art the loveliest _here_, I ween; But lovelier far is the\nnew-made queen.\"\n\nWhen she heard this, the queen started with rage; but her envy and\ncuriosity were so great, that she could not help setting out to see the\nbride. And when she arrived, and saw that it was no other than\nSnow-White, whom she thought had been dead a long while, she choked with\npassion, and fell ill and died; but Snow-White and the prince lived and\nreigned happily over that land, many, many years.\n\n\n\n\nCATHERINE AND FREDERICK\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a youth named Frederick and a girl called\nCatherine, who had married and lived together as a young couple. One day\nFred said, \"I am now going into the fields, dear Catherine, and by the\ntime I return let there be something hot upon the table, for I shall be\nhungry, and something to drink, too, for I shall be thirsty.\"\n\n\"Very well, dear Fred,\" said she, \"go at once, and I will make all right\nfor you.\"\n\nAs soon, then, as dinner-time approached, she took down a sausage out of\nthe chimney, and putting it in a frying-pan with batter, set it over the\nfire. Soon the sausage began to frizzle and spit while Catherine stood\nby holding the handle of the pan and thinking; and among other things\nshe thought that while the sausage was getting ready she might go into\nthe cellar and draw some beer. So she took a can and went down into the\ncellar to draw the beer, and while it ran into the can, she bethought\nherself that perhaps the dog might steal the sausage out of the pan, and\nso up the cellar stairs she ran, but too late, for the rogue had already\ngot the meat in his mouth and was sneaking off. Catherine, however,\npursued the dog for a long way over the fields, but the beast was\nquicker than she, and would not let the sausage go, but bolted off at a\ngreat rate. \"Off is off!\" said Catherine, and turned round, and being\nvery tired and hot, she went home slowly to cool herself. All this while\nthe beer was running out of the cask, for Catherine had forgotten to\nturn the tap off, and so, as soon as the can was full, the liquor ran\nover the floor of the cellar until it was all out. Catherine saw the\nmisfortune at the top of the steps. \"My gracious!\" she exclaimed; \"what\nshall I do that Fred may not find this out?\" She considered for some\ntime till she remembered that a sack of fine malt yet remained from the\nlast brewing, in one corner, which she would fetch down and strew about\nin the beer. \"Yes,\" said she, \"it was spared at the right time to be\nuseful to me now in my necessity\"; and down she pulled the sack so\nhastily that she overturned the can of beer for Fred, and away it mixed\nwith the rest on the floor. \"It is all right,\" said she, \"where one is,\nthe other should be,\" and she strewed the malt over the whole cellar.\nWhen it was done she was quite overjoyed at her work, and said, \"How\nclean and neat it does look, to be sure!\"\n\nAt noontime Fred returned. \"Now, wife, what have you ready for me?\" said\nhe. \"Ah, my dear Fred,\" she replied, \"I would have fried you a sausage,\nbut while I drew the beer the dog stole it out of the pan, and while I\nhunted the dog the beer all ran out, and as I was about to dry up the\nbeer with the malt I overturned your can; but be contented, the cellar\nis quite dry again now.\"\n\n\"Oh, Catherine, Catherine!\" said Fred; \"you should not have done so! to\nlet the sausage be stolen! and the beer run out! and over all to shoot\nour best sack of malt!\"\n\n\"Well, Fred,\" said she, \"I did not know that; you should have told me.\"\n\nBut the husband thought to himself, if one's wife acts so, one must look\nafter things oneself. Now, he had collected a tolerable sum of silver\ndollars, which he changed into gold, and then he told his wife, \"Do you\nsee, these are yellow counters which I will put in a pot and bury in the\nstable under the cow's stall; but mind that you do not meddle with it,\nor you will come to some harm.\"\n\nCatherine promised to mind what he said, but as soon as Fred was gone\nsome hawkers came into the village with earthenware for sale, and\namongst others they asked her if she would purchase anything. \"Ah, good\npeople,\" said Catherine, \"I have no money, and cannot buy anything, but\nif you can make use of yellow counters I will buy them.\"\n\n\"Yellow counters! ah! why not? Let us look at them,\" said they.\n\n\"Go into the stable,\" she replied, \"and dig under the cows stall, and\nthere you will find the yellow counters. I dare not go myself.\"\n\nThe rogues went at once, and soon dug up the shining gold which they\nquickly pocketed, and then they ran off, leaving behind them their pots\nand dishes in the house. Catherine thought she might as well make use of\nthe new pottery, and since she had no need of anything in the kitchen,\nshe set out each pot on the ground, and then put others on the top of\nthe palings round the house for ornament. When Fred returned, and saw\nthe fresh decorations, he asked Catherine what she had done. \"I have\nbought them, Fred,\" said she, \"with the yellow counters which lay under\nthe cow's stall; but I did not dig them up myself; the pedlars did\nthat.\"\n\n\"Ah, wife, what have you done?\" replied Fred. \"They were not counters,\nbut bright gold, which was all the property we possessed: you should not\nhave done so.\"\n\n\"Well, dear Fred,\" replied his wife, \"you should have told me so before.\nI did not know that.\"\n\nCatherine stood considering for awhile, and presently she began, \"Come,\nFred, we will soon get the gold back again; let us pursue the thieves.\"\n\n\"Well, come along,\" said Fred; \"we will try at all events; but take\nbutter and cheese with you, that we may have something to eat on our\njourney.\"\n\n\"Yes, Fred,\" said she, and soon made herself ready; but, her husband\nbeing a good walker, she lagged behind. \"Ah!\" said she, \"this is my\nluck, for when we turn back I shall be a good bit forward.\" Presently\nshe came to a hill, on both sides of which there were very deep ruts.\n\"Oh, see!\" said she, \"how the poor earth is torn, flayed, and wounded;\nit will never be well again all its life!\" And out of compassion she\ntook out her butter, and greased the ruts over right and left, so that\nthe wheels might run more easily through them, and, while she stooped in\ndoing this, a cheese rolled out of her pocket down the mountain.\nCatherine said when she saw it, \"I have already once made the journey\nup, and I am not coming down after you: another shall run and fetch\nyou.\" So saying, she took another cheese out of her pocket and rolled it\ndown; but as it did not return, she thought, \"Perhaps they are waiting\nfor a companion and don't like to come alone\"; and down she bowled a\nthird cheese. Still all three stayed, and she said, \"I cannot think what\nthis means; perhaps it is that the third cheese has missed his way: I\nwill send a fourth, that he may call him as he goes by.\" But this one\nacted no better than the others, and Catherine became so anxious that\nshe threw down a fifth and a sixth cheese also, and they were the last.\nFor a long time after this she waited, expecting they would come, but\nwhen she found they did not she cried out, \"You are nice fellows to send\nafter a dead man! you stop a fine time! but do you think I shall wait\nfor you? Oh, no! I shall go on; you can follow me; you have younger legs\nthan I.\"\n\nSo saying, Catherine walked on and came up with Fred, who was waiting\nfor her, because he needed something to eat. \"Now,\" said he, \"give me\nquickly what you brought.\" She handed him the dry bread. \"Where are the\nbutter and cheese?\" cried her husband. \"Oh, Fred, dear,\" she replied,\n\"with the butter I have smeared the ruts, and the cheeses will soon\ncome, but one ran away, and I sent the others after it to call it back!\"\n\n\"It was silly of you to do so,\" said Fred, \"to grease the roads with\nbutter, and to roll cheese down the hill!\"\n\n\"If you had but told me so,\" said Catherine, vexedly.\n\nSo they ate the dry bread together, and presently Fred said, \"Catherine,\ndid you make things fast at home before you came out?\"\n\n\"No, Fred,\" said she, \"you did not tell me.\"\n\n\"Then go back and lock up the house before we go farther; bring\nsomething to eat with you, and I will stop here for you.\"\n\nBack went Catherine, thinking, \"Ah! Fred will like something else to\neat. Butter and cheese will not please; I will bring with me a bag of\ndried apples and a mug of vinegar to drink.\" When she had put these\nthings together she bolted the upper half of the door, but the under\ndoor she raised up and carried away on her shoulder, thinking that\ncertainly the house was well protected if she took such good care of the\ndoor! Catherine walked along now very leisurely, for, said she to\nherself, \"Fred will have all the longer rest!\" and as soon as she\nreached him she gave him the door, saying, \"There, Fred, now you have\nthe house door you can take care of the house yourself.\"\n\n\"Oh! my goodness,\" exclaimed the husband, \"what a clever wife I have!\nShe has bolted the top door, but brought away the bottom part, where any\none can creep through! Now it is too late to go back to the house, but\nsince you brought the door here you may carry it onward.\"\n\n\"The door I will willingly carry,\" replied Catherine, \"but the apples\nand the vinegar will be too heavy, so I shall hang them on the door and\nmake that carry them!\"\n\nSoon after they came into a wood and looked about for the thieves, but\nthey, could not find them, and when it became dark they climbed up into\na tree to pass the night. But scarcely had they done this when up came\nthe fellows who carried away what should not go with them, and find\nthings before they are lost. They laid themselves down right under the\ntree upon which Fred and Catherine were, and making a fire, prepared to\nshare their booty. Then Fred slipped down on the other side, and\ncollected stones, with which he climbed the tree again, to beat the\nthieves with. The stones, however, did them no harm, for the fellows\ncalled out, \"Ah! it will soon be morning, for the wind is shaking down\nthe chestnuts.\" All this while Catherine still had the door upon her\nshoulder, and, as it pressed very heavily, she thought the dried apples\nwere in fault, and said to Fred, \"I must throw down these apples.\" \"No,\nCatherine,\" said he, \"not now, they might discover us.\" \"Ah, I must,\nthough, they are so heavy.\"\n\n\"Well, then, do it in the hangman's name!\" cried Fred.\n\nAs they fell down the rogues said, \"Ah! the birds are pulling off the\nleaves.\"\n\nA little while after Catherine said again, \"Oh! Fred, I must pour out\nthe vinegar, it is so heavy.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" said he, \"it will discover us.\"\n\n\"Ah! but I must, Fred, it is very heavy,\" said Catherine.\n\n\"Well, then, do it in the hangman's name!\" cried Fred.\n\nSo she poured out the vinegar, and as it dropped on them the thieves\nsaid, \"Ah! the dew is beginning to fall.\"\n\nNot many minutes after Catherine found the door was still quite as\nheavy, and said again to Fred, \"Now I must throw down this door.\"\n\n\"No, Catherine,\" said he, \"that would certainly discover us.\"\n\n\"Ah! Fred, but I must; it presses me so terribly.\"\n\n\"No, Catherine dear! do hold it fast,\" said Fred.\n\n\"There--it is gone!\" said she.\n\n\"Then let it go in the hangman's name!\" cried Fred, while it fell\ncrashing through the branches. The rogues below thought the Evil One was\ndescending the tree, and ran off, leaving everything behind them. And\nearly in the morning Fred and his wife descended, and found all their\ngold under the tree.\n\nAs soon as they got home again, Fred said, \"Now, Catherine, you must be\nvery industrious and work hard.\"\n\n\"Yes, my dear husband,\" said she; \"I will go into the fields to cut\ncorn.\" When she was come into the field she said to herself, \"Shall I\neat before I cut, or sleep first before I cut?\" She determined to eat,\nand soon became so sleepy over her meal that when she began to cut she\nknew not what she was doing, and cut off half her clothes--gown,\npetticoat and all. When, after a long sleep, Catherine awoke, she got up\nhalf-stripped, and said to herself, \"Am I myself? or am I not? Ah! I am\nnot myself.\" By and by night came on, and Catherine ran into the\nvillage, and, knocking at her husband's window, called, \"Fred!\"\n\n\"What is the matter?\" cried he.\n\n\"I want to know if Catherine is indoors!\" said she.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" answered Fred, \"she is certainly within, fast asleep.\"\n\n\"Then I am at home,\" said she, and ran away.\n\nStanding outside Catherine found some thieves, wanting to steal, and\ngoing up to them she said, \"I will help you.\"\n\nAt this the thieves were very glad, not doubting but that she knew where\nto light on what they sought. But Catherine, stepping in front of the\nhouses, called out, \"Good people, what have you that we can steal?\" At\nthis the thieves said, \"You will do for us with a vengeance!\" and they\nwished they had never come near her; but in order to rid themselves of\nher they said, \"Just before the village the parson has some roots lying\nin his field; go and fetch some.\"\n\nCatherine went as she was bid, and began to grub for them, and soon made\nherself very dirty with the earth. Presently a man came by and saw her,\nand stood still, for he thought it was the Evil One who was grovelling\nso among the roots. Away he ran into the village to the parson, and told\nhim the Evil One was in his field, rooting up the turnips. \"Ah!\nheavens!\" said the parson, \"I have a lame foot, and I cannot go out to\nexorcize him.\"\n\n\"Then I will carry you a-pickaback,\" said the man, and took him up.\n\nJust as they arrived in the field, Catherine got up and drew herself up\nto her full height.\n\n\"Oh! it is the Evil One!\" cried the parson, and both he and the man\nhurried away; and, behold! the parson ran faster with his lame legs,\nthrough fear and terror, than the countryman could with his sound legs!\n\n\n\n\nTHE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR\n\n\nOne fine day a Tailor was sitting on his bench by the window in very\nhigh spirits, sewing away most diligently, and presently up the street\ncame a country woman, crying, \"Good jams for sale! Good jams for sale!\"\nThis cry sounded nice in the Tailor's ears, and, poking his diminutive\nhead out of the window, he called, \"Here, my good woman, just bring your\njams in here!\" The woman mounted the three steps up to the Tailor's\nhouse with her large basket, and began to open all the pots together\nbefore him. He looked at them all, held them up to the light, smelt\nthem, and at last said, \"These jams seem to me to be very nice, so you\nmay weigh me out two ounces, my good woman; I don't object even if you\nmake it a quarter of a pound.\" The woman, who hoped to have met with a\ngood customer, gave him all he wished, and went off grumbling, and in a\nvery bad temper.\n\n\"Now!\" exclaimed the Tailor, \"Heaven will send me a blessing on this\njam, and give me fresh strength and vigor;\" and, taking the bread from\nthe cupboard, he cut himself a slice the size of the whole loaf, and\nspread the jam upon it. \"That will taste very nice,\" said he; \"but,\nbefore I take a bite, I will just finish this waistcoat.\" So he put the\nbread on the table and stitched away, making larger and larger stitches\nevery time for joy. Meanwhile the smell of the jam rose to the ceiling,\nwhere many flies were sitting, and enticed them down, so that soon a\ngreat swarm of them had pitched on the bread. \"Holloa! who asked you?\"\nexclaimed the Tailor, driving away the uninvited visitors; but the\nflies, not understanding his words, would not be driven off, and came\nback in greater numbers than before. This put the little man in a great\npassion, and, snatching up in his anger a bag of cloth, he brought it\ndown with a merciless swoop upon them. When he raised it again he\ncounted as many as seven lying dead before him with outstretched legs.\n\"What a fellow you are!\" said he to himself, astonished at his own\nbravery. \"The whole town must hear of this.\" In great haste he cut\nhimself out a band, hemmed it, and then put on it in large letters,\n\"SEVEN AT ONE BLOW!\" \"Ah,\" said he, \"not one city alone, the whole world\nshall hear it!\" and his heart danced with joy, like a puppy-dog's tail.\n\nThe little Tailor bound the belt around his body, and made ready to\ntravel forth into the wide world, feeling the workshop too small for his\ngreat deeds. Before he set out, however, he looked about his house to\nsee if there were anything he could carry with him, but he found only an\nold cheese, which he pocketed, and observing a bird which was caught in\nthe bushes before the door, he captured it, and put that in his pocket\nalso. Soon after he set out boldly on his travels; and, as he was light\nand active, he felt no fatigue. His road led him up a hill, and when he\narrived at the highest point of it he found a great Giant sitting there,\nwho was gazing about him very composedly.\n\nBut the little Tailor went boldly up, and said, \"Good day, friend; truly\nyou sit there and see the whole world stretched below you. I also am on\nmy way thither to seek my fortune. Are you willing to go with me?\"\n\nThe Giant looked with scorn at the little Tailor, and said, \"You rascal!\nyou wretched creature!\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" replied the Tailor; \"but here may be seen what sort of a\nman I am;\" and, unbuttoning his coat, he showed the Giant his belt. The\nGiant read, \"SEVEN AT ONE BLOW\"; and supposing they were men whom the\nTailor had killed, he felt some respect for him. Still he meant to try\nhim first; so taking up a pebble, he squeezed it so hard that water\ndropped out of it. \"Do as well as that,\" said he to the other, \"if you\nhave the strength.\"\n\n\"If it be nothing harder than that,\" said the Tailor, \"that's child's\nplay.\" And, diving into his pocket, he pulled out the cheese and\nsqueezed it till the whey ran out of it, and said, \"Now, I fancy that I\nhave done better than you.\"\n\nThe Giant wondered what to say, and could not believe it of the little\nman; so, catching up another pebble, he flung it so high that it almost\nwent out of sight, saying, \"There, you pigmy, do that if you can.\"\n\n\"Well done,\" said the Tailor; \"but your pebble will fall down again to\nthe ground. I will throw one up which will not come down;\" and, dipping\ninto his pocket, he took out the bird and threw it into the air. The\nbird, glad to be free, flew straight up, and then far away, and did not\ncome back. \"How does that little performance please you, friend?\" asked\nthe Tailor.\n\n\"You can throw well,\" replied the giant; \"now truly we will see if you\nare able to carry something uncommon.\" So saying, he took him to a large\noak tree, which lay upon the ground, and said, \"If you are strong\nenough, now help me to carry this tree out of the forest.\"\n\n\"With pleasure,\" replied the Tailor; \"you may hold the trunk upon your\nshoulder, and I will lift the boughs and branches, they are the\nheaviest, and carry them.\"\n\nThe Giant took the trunk upon his shoulder, but the Tailor sat down on\none of the branches, and the Giant, who could not look round, was\ncompelled to carry the whole tree and the Tailor also. He being behind,\nwas very cheerful, and laughed at the trick, and presently began to sing\nthe song, \"There rode three tailors out at the gate,\" as if the carrying\nof trees were a trifle. The Giant, after he had staggered a very short\ndistance with his heavy load, could go no further, and called out, \"Do\nyou hear? I must drop the tree.\" The Tailor, jumping down, quickly\nembraced the tree with both arms, as if he had been carrying it, and\nsaid to the Giant, \"Are you such a big fellow, and yet cannot you carry\na tree by yourself?\"\n\nThen they travelled on further, and as they came to a cherry-tree, the\nGiant seized the top of the tree where the ripest cherries hung, and,\nbending it down, gave it to the Tailor to hold, telling him to eat. But\nthe Tailor was far too weak to hold the tree down, and when the Giant\nlet go, the tree flew up in the air, and the Tailor was taken with it.\nHe came down on the other side, however, unhurt, and the Giant said,\n\"What does that mean? Are you not strong enough to hold that twig?\" \"My\nstrength did not fail me,\" said the Tailor; \"do you imagine that that\nwas a hard task for one who has slain seven at one blow? I sprang over\nthe tree simply because the hunters were shooting down here in the\nthicket. Jump after me if you can.\" The Giant made the attempt, but\ncould not clear the tree, and stuck fast in the branches; so that in\nthis affair, too, the Tailor had the advantage.\n\nThen the Giant said, \"Since you are such a brave fellow, come with me to\nmy house, and stop a night with me.\" The Tailor agreed, and followed\nhim; and when they came to the cave, there sat by the fire two other\nGiants, each with a roast sheep in his hand, of which he was eating. The\nTailor sat down thinking. \"Ah, this is very much more like the world\nthan is my workshop.\" And soon the Giant pointed out a bed where he\ncould lie down and go to sleep. The bed, however, was too large for him,\nso he crept out of it, and lay down in a corner. When midnight came, and\nthe Giant fancied the Tailor would be in a sound sleep, he got up, and\ntaking a heavy iron bar, beat the bed right through at one stroke, and\nbelieved he had thereby given the Tailor his death-blow. At the dawn of\nday the Giants went out into the forest, quite forgetting the Tailor,\nwhen presently up he came, quite cheerful, and showed himself before\nthem. The Giants were frightened, and, dreading he might kill them all,\nthey ran away in a great hurry.\n\nThe Tailor travelled on, always following his nose, and after he had\njourneyed some long distance, he came into the courtyard of a royal\npalace; and feeling very tired he laid himself down on the ground and\nwent to sleep. Whilst he lay there the people came and viewed him on all\nsides, and read upon his belt, \"Seven at one blow.\" \"Ah,\" they said,\n\"what does this great warrior here in time of peace? This must be some\nvaliant hero.\" So they went and told the King, knowing that, should war\nbreak out, here was a valuable and useful man, whom one ought not to\npart with at any price. The King took advice, and sent one of his\ncourtiers to the Tailor to beg for his fighting services, if he should\nbe awake. The messenger stopped at the sleeper's side, and waited till\nhe stretched out his limbs and unclosed his eyes, and then he mentioned\nto him his message. \"Solely for that reason did I come here,\" was his\nanswer; \"I am quite willing to enter into the King's service.\" Then he\nwas taken away with great honor, and a fine house was appointed him to\ndwell in.\n\nThe courtiers, however, became jealous of the Tailor, and wished him at\nthe other end of the world. \"What will happen?\" said they to one\nanother. \"If we go to war with him, when he strikes out seven will fall\nat one stroke, and nothing will be left for us to do.\" In their anger\nthey came to the determination to resign, and they went all together to\nthe King, and asked his permission, saying, \"We are not prepared to keep\ncompany with a man who kills seven at one blow.\" The King was sorry to\nlose all his devoted servants for the sake of one, and wished that he\nhad never seen the Tailor, and would gladly have now been rid of him. He\ndared not, however dismiss him, because he feared the Tailor might kill\nhim and all his subjects, and seat himself upon the throne. For a long\ntime he deliberated, till finally he came to a decision; and, sending\nfor the Tailor, he told him that, seeing he was so great a hero, he\nwished to beg a favor of him. \"In a certain forest in my kingdom,\" said\nthe King, \"there are two Giants, who, by murder, rapine, fire, and\nrobbery, have committed great damage, and no one approaches them without\nendangering his own life. If you overcome and slay both these Giants, I\nwill give you my only daughter in marriage, and half of my kingdom for a\ndowry: a hundred knights shall accompany you, too, in order to render\nyou assistance.\"\n\n\"Ah, that is something for a man like me,\" thought the Tailor to\nhimself: \"a lovely Princess and half a kingdom are not offered to one\nevery day.\" \"Oh, yes,\" he replied, \"I will soon settle these two Giants,\nand a hundred horsemen are not needed for that purpose; he who kills\nseven at one blow has no fear of two.\"\n\nSpeaking thus, the little Tailor set out, followed by the hundred\nknights, to whom he said, immediately they came to the edge of the\nforest, \"You must stay here; I prefer to meet these Giants alone.\"\n\nThen he ran off into the forest, peering about him on all sides; and\nafter a while he saw the two Giants sound asleep under a tree, snoring\nso loudly that the branches above them shook violently. The Tailor, bold\nas a lion, filled both his pockets with stones and climbed up the tree.\nWhen he got to the middle of it he crawled along a bough, so that he sat\njust above the sleepers, and then he let fall one stone after another\nupon the body of one of them. For some time the Giant did not move,\nuntil, at last awaking, he pushed his companion, and said, \"Why are you\nhitting me?\"\n\n\"You have been dreaming,\" he answered; \"I did not touch you.\" So they\nlaid themselves down again to sleep, and presently the Tailor threw a\nstone down upon the other. \"What is that?\" he cried. \"Why are you\nknocking me about?\"\n\n\"I did not touch you; you are dreaming,\" said the first. So they argued\nfor a few minutes; but, both being very weary with the day's work, they\nsoon went to sleep again. Then the Tailor began his fun again, and,\npicking out the largest stone, threw it with all his strength upon the\nchest of the first Giant. \"This is too bad!\" he exclaimed; and, jumping\nup like a madman, he fell upon his companion, who considered himself\nequally injured, and they set to in such good earnest, that they rooted\nup trees and beat one another about until they both fell dead upon the\nground. Then the Tailor jumped down, saying, \"What a piece of luck they\ndid not pull up the tree on which I sat, or else I must have jumped on\nanother like a squirrel, for I am not used to flying.\" Then he drew his\nsword, and, cutting a deep wound in the breast of both, he went to the\nhorsemen and said, \"The deed is done; I have given each his\ndeath-stroke; but it was a tough job, for in their defence they uprooted\ntrees to protect themselves with; still, all that is of no use when such\nan one as I come, who slew seven at one stroke.\"\n\n\"And are you not wounded?\" they asked.\n\n\"How can you ask me that? they have not injured a hair of my head,\"\nreplied the little man. The knights could hardly believe him, till,\nriding into the forest, they found the Giants lying dead, and the\nuprooted trees around them.\n\nThen the Tailor demanded the promised reward of the King; but he\nrepented of his promise, and began to think of some new plan to shake\noff the hero. \"Before you receive my daughter and the half of my\nkingdom,\" said he to him, \"you must execute another brave deed. In the\nforest there lives a unicorn that commits great damage, you must first\ncatch him.\"\n\n\"I fear a unicorn less than I did two Giants! Seven at one blow is my\nmotto,\" said the Tailor. So he carried with him a rope and an axe and\nwent off to the forest, ordering those, who were told to accompany him,\nto wait on the outskirts. He had not to hunt long, for soon the unicorn\napproached, and prepared to rush at him as if it would pierce him on the\nspot. \"Steady! steady!\" he exclaimed, \"that is not done so easily\"; and,\nwaiting till the animal was close upon him, he sprang nimbly behind a\ntree. The unicorn, rushing with all its force against the tree, stuck\nits horn so fast in the trunk that it could not pull it out again, and\nso it remained prisoner.\n\n\"Now I have got him,\" said the Tailor; and coming from behind the tree,\nhe first bound the rope around its neck, and then cutting the horn out\nof the tree with his axe, he arranged everything, and, leading the\nunicorn, brought it before the King.\n\nThe King, however, would not yet deliver over the promised reward, and\nmade a third demand, that, before the marriage, the Tailor should\ncapture a wild boar which did much damage, and he should have the\nhuntsmen to help him. \"With pleasure,\" was the reply; \"it is a mere\nnothing.\" The huntsmen, however, he left behind, to their great joy, for\nthis wild boar had already so often hunted them, that they saw no fun in\nnow hunting it. As soon as the boar perceived the Tailor, it ran at him\nwith gaping mouth and glistening teeth, and tried to throw him down on\nthe ground; but our flying hero sprang into a little chapel which stood\nnear, and out again at a window, on the other side, in a moment. The\nboar ran after him, but he, skipping around, closed the door behind it,\nand there the furious beast was caught, for it was much too unwieldy and\nheavy to jump out of the window.\n\nThe Tailor now ordered the huntsmen up, that they might see his prisoner\nwith their own eyes; but our hero presented himself before the King, who\nwas obliged at last, whether he would or no, to keep his word, and\nsurrender his daughter and the half of his kingdom.\n\nIf he had known that it was no warrior, but only a Tailor, who stood\nbefore him, it would have grieved him still more.\n\nSo the wedding was celebrated with great magnificence, though with\nlittle rejoicing, and out of a Tailor there was made a King.\n\nA short time afterwards the young Queen heard her husband talking in his\nsleep, saying, \"Boy, make me a coat, and then stitch up these trowsers,\nor I will lay the yard-measure over your shoulders!\" Then she understood\nof what condition her husband was, and complained in the morning to her\nfather, and begged he would free her from her husband, who was nothing\nmore than a tailor. The King comforted her by saying, \"This night leave\nyour chamber-door open: my servants shall stand outside, and when he is\nasleep they shall come in, bind him, and carry him away to a ship, which\nshall take him out into the wide world.\" The wife was pleased with the\nproposal; but the King's armor-bearer, who had overheard all, went to\nthe young King and revealed the whole plot. \"I will soon put an end to\nthis affair,\" said the valiant little Tailor. In the evening at their\nusual time they went to bed, and when his wife thought he slept she got\nup, opened the door, and laid herself down again.\n\nThe Tailor, however, only pretended to be asleep, and began to call out\nin a loud voice, \"Boy, make me a coat, and then stitch up these\ntrowsers, or I will lay the yard-measure about your shoulders. Seven\nhave I slain with one blow, two Giants have I killed, a unicorn have I\nled captive, and a wild boar have I caught, and shall I be afraid of\nthose who stand outside my room?\"\n\nWhen the men heard these words spoken by the Tailor, a great fear came\nover them, and they ran away as if wild huntsmen were following them;\nneither afterwards dared any man venture to oppose him. Thus the Tailor\nbecame a King, and so he lived for the rest of his life.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE RED CAP\n\n\nMany years ago there lived a dear little girl who was beloved by every\none who knew her; but her grand-mother was so very fond of her that she\nnever felt she could think and do enough to please this dear\ngrand-daughter, and she presented the little girl with a red silk cap,\nwhich suited her so well, that she would never wear anything else, and\nso was called Little Red-Cap.\n\nOne day Red-Cap's mother said to her, \"Come, Red-Cap, here is a nice\npiece of meat, and a bottle of wine: take these to your grandmother; she\nis weak and ailing, and they will do her good. Be there before she gets\nup; go quietly and carefully.\"\n\nThe grandmother lived far away in the wood, a long walk from the\nvillage, and as Little Red-Cap came among the trees she met a Wolf; but\nshe did not know what a wicked animal it was, and so she was not at all\nfrightened. \"Good morning, Little Red-Cap,\" he said.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Wolf,\" said she.\n\n\"Where are you going so early, Little Red-Cap?\"\n\n\"To my grandmother's,\" she answered.\n\n\"And what are you carrying in that basket?\"\n\n\"Some wine and meat,\" she replied. \"We baked the meat yesterday, so that\ngrandmother, who is very weak, might have a nice strengthening meal.\"\n\n\"And where does your grandmother live?\" asked the Wolf.\n\n\"Oh, quite twenty minutes walk further in the forest. The cottage stands\nunder three great oak trees; and close by are some nut bushes, by which\nyou will at once know it.\"\n\nThe Wolf was thinking to himself, \"She is a nice tender thing, and will\ntaste better than the old woman; I must act cleverly, that I may make a\nmeal of both.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR.]\n\nPresently he came up again to Little Red-Cap, and said, \"Just look at\nthe beautiful flowers which grow around you; why do you not look about\nyou? I believe you don't hear how sweetly the birds are singing. You\nwalk as if you were going to school; see how cheerful everything is\nabout you in the forest.\"\n\nAnd Little Red-Cap opened her eyes; and when she saw how the sunbeams\nglanced and danced through the trees, and what bright flowers were\nblooming in her path, she thought, \"If I take my grandmother a fresh\nnosegay, she will be very much pleased; and it is so very early that I\ncan, even then, get there in good time;\" and running into the forest,\nshe looked about for flowers. But when she had once begun she did not\nknow how to leave off, and kept going deeper and deeper amongst the\ntrees looking for some still more beautiful flower. The Wolf, however,\nran straight to the house of the old grandmother, and knocked at the\ndoor.\n\n\"Who's there?\" asked the old lady.\n\n\"Only Little Red-Cap, bringing you some meat and wine; please open the\ndoor,\" answered the Wolf. \"Lift up the latch,\" cried the grandmother; \"I\nam much too ill to get up myself.\"\n\nSo the Wolf lifted the latch, and the door flew open; and without a\nword, he jumped on to the bed, and gobbled up the poor old lady. Then he\nput on her clothes, and tied her night-cap over his head; got into the\nbed, and drew the blankets over him. All this time Red-Cap was gathering\nflowers; and when she had picked as many as she could carry, she thought\nof her grandmother, and hurried to the cottage. She wondered greatly to\nfind the door open; and when she got into the room, she began to feel\nvery ill, and exclaimed, \"How sad I feel! I wish I had not come to-day.\"\nThen she said, \"Good morning,\" but received no reply; so she went up to\nthe bed, and drew back the curtains, and there lay her grandmother, as\nshe imagined, with the cap drawn half over her eyes, and looking very\nfierce.\n\n\"Oh, grandmother, what great ears you have!\" she said.\n\n\"All the better to hear you with,\" was the reply.\n\n\"And what great eyes you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to see you with.\"\n\n\"And what great hands you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to touch you with.\"\n\n\"But, grandmother, what very great teeth you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to eat you with;\" and hardly were the words spoken when\nthe Wolf made a jump out of bed, and swallowed up poor Little Red-Cap\nalso.\n\nAs soon as the Wolf had thus satisfied his hunger, he laid himself down\nagain on the bed, and went to sleep and snored very loudly. A huntsman\npassing by overheard him, and said, \"How loudly that old woman snores! I\nmust see if anything is the matter.\"\n\nSo he went into the cottage; and when he came to the bed, he saw the\nWolf sleeping in it. \"What! are you here, you old rascal? I have been\nlooking for you,\" exclaimed he; and taking up his gun, he shot the old\nWolf through the head.\n\nBut it is also said that the story ends in a different manner; for that\none day, when Red-Cap was taking some presents to her grandmother, a\nWolf met her, and wanted to mislead her; but she went straight on, and\ntold her grandmother that she had met a Wolf, who said good day, and who\nlooked so hungrily out of his great eyes, as if he would have eaten her\nup had she not been on the high-road.\n\nSo her grandmother said, \"We will shut the door, and then he cannot get\nin.\" Soon after, up came the Wolf, who tapped, and exclaimed, \"I am\nLittle Red-Cap, grandmother; I have some roast meat for you.\" But they\nkept quite quiet, and did not open the door; so the Wolf, after looking\nseveral times round the house, at last jumped on the roof, thinking to\nwait till Red-Cap went home in the evening, and then to creep after her\nand eat her in the darkness. The old woman, however, saw what the\nvillain intended. There stood before the door a large stone trough, and\nshe said to Little Red-Cap, \"Take this bucket, dear: yesterday I boiled\nsome meat in this water, now pour it into the stone trough.\" Then the\nWolf sniffed the smell of the meat, and his mouth watered, and he wished\nvery much to taste. At last he stretched his neck too far over, so that\nhe lost his balance, and fell down from the roof, right into the great\ntrough below, and there he was drowned.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN GOOSE\n\n\nThere was once a man who had three sons. The youngest was called\nDummerly, and was on all occasions scorned and ill-treated by the whole\nfamily. It happened that the eldest took it into his head one day to go\ninto the forest to cut wood; and his mother gave him a delicious meat\npie and a bottle of wine to take with him, that he might sustain himself\nat his work. As he went into the forest, a little old man bid him good\nday, and said, \"Give me a little bit of meat from your plate, and a\nlittle wine out of your flask; I am very hungry and thirsty.\" But this\nclever young man said, \"Give you my meat and wine! No, I thank you;\nthere would not be enough left for me;\" and he went on his way. He soon\nbegan to chop down a tree; but he had not worked long before he missed\nhis stroke, and cut himself, and was obliged to go home and have the\nwound bound up. Now, it was the little old man who caused him this\nmischief.\n\nNext the second son went out to work; and his mother gave him, too, a\nmeat pie and a bottle of wine. And the same little old man encountered\nhim also, and begged him for something to eat and drink. But he, too,\nthought himself extremely clever, and said, \"Whatever you get, I shall\nbe without; so go your way!\" The little man made sure that he should\nhave his reward; and the second stroke that he struck at a tree, hit him\non the leg, so that he too was compelled to go home.\n\nThen Dummerly said, \"Father, I should like to go and cut fuel too.\" But\nhis father replied, \"Your brothers have both maimed themselves; you had\nbetter stop at home, for you know nothing of the job.\" But Dummerly was\nvery urgent; and at last his father said, \"Go your way; you will be\nwiser when you have suffered for your foolishness.\" And his mother gave\nhim only some dry bread, and a bottle of sour ale; but when he went into\nthe forest, he met the little old man, who said, \"Give me some meat and\ndrink, for I am very hungry and thirsty.\" Dummerly said, \"I have nothing\nbut dry bread and sour beer; if that will do for you, we will sit down\nand eat it together.\" So they sat down, and when the lad took out his\nbread, behold it was turned into a splendid meat pie, and his sour beer\nbecame delicious wine! They ate and drank heartily, and when they had\nfinished, the little man said, \"As you have a kind heart, and have been\nwilling to share everything with me I will bring good to you. There\nstands an old tree; chop it down, and you will find something at the\nroot.\" Then he took his leave and went his way.\n\nDummerly set to work, and cut down the tree; and when it fell, he\ndiscovered in a hollow under the roots a goose with plumage of pure\ngold. He took it up, and went on to an inn, where he proposed sleep for\nthe night. The landlord had three daughters, and when they saw the\ngoose, they were very curious to find out what this wonderful bird could\nbe, and wished very much to pluck one of the feathers out of its tail.\nAt last the eldest said, \"I must and will have a feather.\" So she waited\ntill his back was turned, and then caught hold of the goose by the wing;\nbut to her great surprise, there she stuck, for neither hand nor finger\ncould she pull away again. Presently in came the second sister, and\nthought to have a feather too; but the instant she touched her sister,\nthere she too hung fast. At last came the third, and desired a feather;\nbut the other two cried out, \"Keep away! for heaven's sake, keep away!\"\nHowever, she did not understand what they meant. \"If they are there,\"\nthought she, \"I may as well be there too,\" so she went up to them. But\nthe moment she touched her sisters she stuck fast, and hung to the goose\nas they did. And so they abode with the goose all night.\n\nThe next morning Dummerly carried off the goose under his arm, and took\nno heed of the three girls, but went out with them sticking fast behind;\nand wherever he journeyed, the three were obliged to follow, whether\nthey wished or not, as fast as their legs could carry them.\n\nIn the middle of a field the parson met them; and when he saw the\nprocession, he said, \"Are you not ashamed of yourselves, you bold girls,\nto run after the young man like that over the fields? Is that proper\nbehavior?\"\n\nThen he took the youngest by the hand to lead her away; but the moment\nhe touched her he, too, hung fast, and followed in the procession.\n\nPresently up came the clerk; and when he saw his master, the parson,\nrunning after the three girls, he was greatly surprised, and said,\n\"Hollo! hollo! your reverence! whither so fast! There is a christening\nto-day.\"\n\nThen he ran up, and caught him by the gown, and instantly he was fast\ntoo.\n\nAs the five were thus trudging along, one after another, they met two\nlaborers with their mattocks coming from work; and the parson called out\nto them to set him free. But hardly had they touched him, when they,\ntoo, joined the ranks, and so made seven, all running after Dummerly and\nhis goose.\n\nAt last they came to a city, where reigned a King who had an only\ndaughter. The princess was of so thoughtful and serious a turn of mind\nthat no one could make her laugh; and the King had announced to all the\nworld that whoever could make her laugh should have her for his wife.\nWhen the young man heard this, he went to her with the goose and all its\nfollowers; and as soon as she saw the seven all hanging together, and\nrunning about, treading on each other's heels, she could not help\nbursting into a long and loud laugh.\n\nThen Dummerly claimed her for his bride; the wedding took place, and he\nwas heir to the kingdom, and lived long and happily with his wife.\n\n\n\n\nBEARSKIN\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a young fellow who enlisted for a soldier,\nand became so brave and courageous that he was always in the front ranks\nwhen it rained blue beans.[1] As long as the war lasted all went well,\nbut when peace was concluded he received his discharge, and the captain\ntold him he might go where he liked. His parents meanwhile had died, and\nas he had no longer any home to go to he paid a visit to his brothers,\nand asked them to give him shelter until war broke out again. His\nbrothers, however, were hard-hearted, and said, \"What could we do with\nyou? We could make nothing of you; see to what you have brought\nyourself\"; and so turned a deaf ear. The poor Soldier had nothing but\nhis musket left; so he mounted this on his shoulder and set out on a\ntramp. By and by he came to a great heath with nothing on it but a\ncircle of trees, under which he sat down, sorrowfully considering his\nfate. \"I have no money,\" thought he; \"I have learnt nothing but\nsoldiering, and now, since peace is concluded, there is no need of me. I\nsee well enough I shall have to starve.\" All at once he heard a\nrustling, and as he looked round he perceived a stranger standing before\nhim, dressed in a gray coat, who looked very stately, but had an ugly\ncloven foot. \"I know quite well what you need,\" said this being; \"gold\nand other possessions you shall have, as much as you can spend; but\nfirst I must know whether you are a coward or not, that I may not spend\nmy money foolishly.\"\n\n\"A soldier and a coward!\" replied the other, \"that cannot be; you may\nput me to any proof.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" replied the stranger, \"look behind you.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Small shot.]\n\nThe Soldier turned and saw a huge bear, which eyed him very ferociously.\n\"Oho!\" cried he, \"I will tickle your nose for you, that you shall no\nlonger be able to grumble\"; and, raising his musket, he shot the bear in\nthe forehead, so that he tumbled in a heap upon the ground, and did not\nstir afterward. Thereupon the stranger said, \"I see quite well that you\nare not wanting in courage; but there is yet one condition which you\nmust fulfil.\" \"If it does not interfere with my future happiness,\" said\nthe Soldier, who had remarked who it was that addressed him; \"if it does\nnot interfere with that, I shall not hesitate.\"\n\n\"That you must see about yourself!\" said the stranger. \"For the next\nseven years you must not wash yourself, nor comb your hair or beard,\nneither must you cut your nails nor say one paternoster. Then I will\ngive you this coat and mantle, which you must wear during these seven\nyears; and if you die within that time you are mine, but if you live you\nare rich, and free all your life long.\"\n\nThe Soldier reflected for awhile on his great necessities, and,\nremembering how often he had braved death, he at length consented, and\nventured to accept the offer. Thereupon the Evil One pulled off the gray\ncoat, handed it to the soldier, and said, \"If you at any time search in\nthe pockets of your coat when you have it on, you will always find your\nhand full of money.\" Then also he pulled off the skin of the bear, and\nsaid, \"That shall be your cloak and your bed; you must sleep on it, and\nnot dare to lie in any other bed, and on this account you shall be\ncalled 'Bearskin.'\" Immediately the Evil One disappeared.\n\nThe Soldier now put on the coat, and dipped his hands into the pockets,\nto assure himself of the reality of the transaction. Then he hung the\nbearskin around himself, and went about the world chuckling at his good\nluck, and buying whatever suited his fancy which money could purchase.\nFor the first year his appearance was not very remarkable, but in the\nsecond he began to look quite a monster. His hair covered almost all his\nface, his beard appeared like a piece of dirty cloth, his nails were\nclaws, and his countenance was so covered with dirt that one might have\ngrown cresses upon it if one had sown seed! Whoever looked at him ran\naway; but because he gave the poor in every place gold coin they prayed\nthat he might not die during the seven years; and because he paid\nliberally everywhere, he found a night's lodging without difficulty. In\nthe fourth year he came to an inn where the landlord would not take him\nin, and refused even to give him a place in his stables, lest the horses\nshould be frightened and become restive. However, when Bearskin put his\nhand into his pocket and drew it out full of gold ducats the landlord\nyielded the point, and gave him a place in the outbuildings, but not\ntill he had promised that he would not show himself, for fear the inn\nshould gain a bad name.\n\nWhile Bearskin sat by himself in the evening, wishing from his heart\nthat the seven years were over, he heard in the corner a loud groan. Now\nthe old Soldier had a compassionate heart, so he opened the door and saw\nan old man weeping violently and wringing his hands. Bearskin stepped\nnearer, but the old man jumped up and tried to escape; but when he\nrecognized a human voice he let himself be persuaded, and by kind words\nand soothings on the part of the old Soldier he at length disclosed the\ncause of his distress. His property had dwindled away by degrees, and he\nand his daughters would have to starve, for he was so poor that he had\nnot the money to pay the host, and would therefore be put into prison.\n\n\"If you have no care except that,\" replied Bearskin, \"I have money\nenough\"; and causing the landlord to be called, he paid him, and put a\npurse full of gold besides into the pocket of the old man. The latter,\nwhen he saw himself released from his troubles, knew not how to be\nsufficiently grateful, and said to the Soldier, \"Come with me; my\ndaughters are all wonders of beauty, so choose one of them for a wife.\nWhen they hear what you have done for me they will not refuse you. You\nappear certainly an uncommon man, but they will soon put you to rights.\"\n\nThis speech pleased Bearskin, and he went with the old man. As soon as\nthe eldest daughter saw him, she was so terrified at his countenance\nthat she shrieked out and ran away. The second one stopped and looked at\nhim from head to foot; but at last she said, \"How can I take a husband\nwho has not a bit of a human countenance? The grizzly bear would have\npleased me better who came to see us once, and gave himself out as a\nman, for he wore a hussar's hat, and had white gloves on besides.\"\n\nBut the youngest daughter said, \"Dear father, this must be a good man\nwho has assisted you out of your troubles; if you have promised him a\nbride for the service your word must be kept\"\n\nIt was a pity the man's face was covered with dirt and hair, else one\nwould have seen how glad at heart these words made him. Bearskin took a\nring off his finger, broke it in two, and, giving the youngest daughter\none half, he kept the other for himself. On her half he wrote his name,\nand on his own he wrote hers, and begged her to preserve it carefully.\nThereupon he took leave, saying, \"For three years longer I must wander\nabout; if I come back again, then we will celebrate our wedding; but if\nI do not, you are free, for I shall be dead. But pray to God that he\nwill preserve my life.\"\n\nWhen he was gone the poor bride clothed herself in black, and whenever\nshe thought of her bridegroom burst into tears. From her sisters she\nreceived nothing but scorn and mocking. \"Pay great attention when he\nshakes your hand,\" said the eldest, \"and you will see his beautiful\nclaws!\" \"Take care!\" said the second, \"bears are fond of sweets, and if\nyou please him he will eat you up, perhaps!\" \"You must mind and do his\nwill,\" continued the eldest, \"or he will begin growling!\" And the second\ndaughter said further, \"But the wedding will certainly be merry, for\nbears dance well!\" The bride kept silence, and would not be drawn from\nher purpose by all these taunts; and meanwhile Bearskin wandered about\nin the world, doing good where he could, and giving liberally to the\npoor, for which they prayed heartily for him. At length the last day of\nthe seven years approached, and Bearskin went and sat down again on the\nheath beneath the circle of trees. In a very short time the wind\nwhistled, and the Evil One presently stood before him and looked at him\nwith a vexed face. He threw the Soldier his old coat and demanded his\ngray one back. \"We have not got so far as that yet,\" replied Bearskin;\n\"you must clean me first.\" Then the Evil One had, whether he liked it or\nno, to fetch water, wash the old Soldier, comb his hair out, and cut his\nnails. This done, he appeared again like a brave warrior, and indeed was\nmuch handsomer than before.\n\nAs soon as the Evil One had disappeared, Bearskin became quite\nlight-hearted; and going into the nearest town he bought a fine velvet\ncoat, and hired a carriage drawn by four white horses, in which he was\ndriven to the house of his bride. Nobody knew him; the father took him\nfor some celebrated general, and led him into the room where his\ndaughters were. He was compelled to sit down between the two eldest, and\nthey offered him wine, and heaped his plate with the choicest morsels;\nfor they thought they had never seen any one so handsome before. But the\nbride sat opposite to him dressed in black, neither opening her eyes nor\nspeaking a word. At length the Soldier asked the father if he would give\nhim one of his daughters to wife, and immediately the two elder sisters\narose, and ran to their chambers to dress themselves out in their most\nbecoming clothes, for each thought she should be chosen. Meanwhile the\nstranger, as soon as he found himself alone with his bride, pulled out\nthe half of the ring and threw it into a cup of wine, which he handed\nacross the table. She took it, and as soon as she had drunk it and seen\nthe half ring lying at the bottom her heart beat rapidly, and she\nproduced the other half, which she wore round her neck on a riband. She\nheld them together, and they joined each other exactly, and the stranger\nsaid, \"I am your bridegroom, whom you first saw as Bearskin; but through\nGod's mercy I have regained my human form, and am myself once more.\"\nWith these words he embraced and kissed her; and at the same time the\ntwo eldest sisters entered in full costume. As soon as they saw that the\nvery handsome man had fallen to the share of their youngest sister, and\nheard that he was the same as \"Bearskin,\" they ran out of the house full\nof rage and jealousy.\n\n\n\n\nCINDERELLA\n\n\nThe wife of a rich man fell sick: and when she felt that her end drew\nnigh, she called her only daughter to her bedside, and said, \"Always be\na good girl, and I will look down from heaven and watch over you.\" Soon\nafterwards she shut her eyes and died, and was buried in the garden; and\nthe little girl went every day to her grave and wept, and was always\ngood and kind to all about her. And the snow spread a beautiful white\ncovering over the grave; but by the time the sun had melted it away\nagain, her father had married another wife. This new wife had two\ndaughters of her own: they were fair in face but foul at heart, and it\nwas now a sorry time for the poor little girl. \"What does the\ngood-for-nothing thing want in the parlor?\" said they; and they took\naway her fine clothes, and gave her an old frock to put on, and laughed\nat her and turned her into the kitchen.\n\nThen she was forced to do hard work; to rise early, before daylight, to\nbring the water, to make the fire, to cook and to wash. She had no bed\nto lie down on, but was made to lie by the hearth among the ashes, and\nthey called her Cinderella.\n\nIt happened once that her father was going to the fair, and asked his\nwife's daughters what he should bring to them. \"Fine clothes,\" said the\nfirst. \"Pearls and diamonds,\" said the second. \"Now, child,\" said he to\nhis own daughter, \"what will you have?\" \"The first sprig, dear father,\nthat rubs against your hat on your way home,\" said she. Then he bought\nfor the two first the fine clothes and pearls and diamonds they had\nasked for: and on his way home, as he rode through a green copse, a\nsprig of hazel brushed against him, so he broke it off and when he got\nhome he gave it to his daughter. Then she took it, and went to her\nmother's grave and planted it there, and cried so much that it was\nwatered with her tears; and there it grew and became a fine tree, and\nsoon a little bird came and built its nest upon the tree, and talked\nwith her and watched over her, and brought her whatever she wished for.\n\nNow it happened that the king of the land held a feast which was to last\nthree days, and out of those who came to it his son was to choose a\nbride for himself; and Cinderella's two sisters were asked to come. So\nthey called Cinderella, and said, \"Now, comb our hair, brush our shoes,\nand tie our sashes for us, for we are going to dance at the king's\nfeast.\" Then she did as she was told, but when all was done she could\nnot help crying, for she thought to herself, she would have liked to go\nto the dance too, and at last she begged her mother very hard to let her\ngo, \"You! Cinderella?\" said she; \"you who have nothing to wear, no\nclothes at all, and who cannot even dance--you want to go to the ball?\"\nAnd when she kept on begging, to get rid of her, she said at last, \"I\nwill throw this basinful of peas into the ash heap, and if you have\npicked them all out in two hours' time you shall go to the feast too.\"\nThen she threw the peas into the ashes; but the little maiden ran out at\nthe back door into the garden, and cried out--\n\n  \"Hither, thither, through the sky, turtle-doves and linnets, fly!\n  Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay, hither, thither, haste away!\n  One and all, come, help me quick! haste ye, haste ye--pick, pick,\n  pick!\"\n\nThen first came two white doves; and next two turtle-doves; and after\nthem all the little birds under heaven came, and the little doves\nstooped their heads down and set to work, pick, pick, pick; and then the\nothers began to pick, pick, pick, and picked out all the good grain and\nput it into a dish, and left the ashes. At the end of one hour the work\nwas done, and all flew out again at the windows. Then she brought the\ndish to her mother. But the mother said, \"No, no! indeed, you have no\nclothes and cannot dance; you shall not go.\" And when Cinderella begged\nvery hard to go, she said, \"If you can in one hour's time pick two of\nthese dishes of pease out of the ashes, you shall go too.\" So she shook\ntwo dishes of peas into the ashes; but the little maiden went out into\nthe garden at the back of the house, and called as before and all the\nbirds came flying, and in half an hour's time all was done, and out they\nflew again. And then Cinderella took the dishes to her mother, rejoicing\nto think that she should now go to the ball. But her mother said, \"It is\nall of no use, you cannot go; you have no clothes, and cannot dance; and\nyou would only put us to shame;\" and off she went with her two daughters\nto the feast.\n\nNow when all were gone, and nobody left at home, Cinderella went\nsorrowfully and sat down under the hazel-tree, and cried out--\n\n  \"Shake, shake, hazel-tree, gold and silver over me!\"\n\nThen her friend the bird flew out of the tree and brought a gold and\nsilver dress for her, and slippers of spangled silk; and she put them\non, and followed her sisters to the feast. But they did not know her,\nshe looked so fine and beautiful in her rich clothes.\n\nThe king's son soon came up to her, and took her by the hand and danced\nwith her and no one else; and he never left her hand, but when any one\nelse came to ask her to dance, he said, \"This lady is dancing with me.\"\nThus they danced till a late hour of the night, and then she wanted to\ngo home; and the king's son said, \"I shall go and take care of you to\nyour home,\" for he wanted to see where the beautiful maid lived. But she\nslipped away from him unawares, and ran off towards home, and the prince\nfollowed her; then she jumped up into the pigeon-house and shut the\ndoor. So he waited till her father came home, and told him that the\nunknown maiden who had been at the feast had hidden herself in the\npigeon-house. But when they had broken open the door they found no one\nwithin; and as they came back into the house, Cinderella lay, as she\nalways did, in her dirty frock by the ashes; for she had run as quickly\nas she could through the pigeon-house and on to the hazel-tree, and had\nthere taken off her beautiful clothes, and laid them beneath the tree,\nthat the bird might carry them away; and had seated herself amid the\nashes again in her little old frock.\n\nThe next day, when the feast was again held, and her father, mother and\nsisters were gone, Cinderella went to the hazel-tree, and all happened\nas the evening before.\n\nThe king's son, who was waiting for her, took her by the hand and danced\nwith her; and, when any one asked her to dance, he said as before, \"This\nlady is dancing with me.\" When night came she wanted to go home; and the\nking's son went with her, but she sprang away from him all at once into\nthe garden behind her father's house. In this garden stood a fine large\npear-tree; and Cinderella jumped up into it without being seen. Then the\nking's son waited till her father came home, and said to him, \"The\nunknown lady has slipped away, and I think she must have sprung into the\npear-tree.\" The father ordered an axe to be brought, and they cut down\nthe tree, but found no one upon it. And when they came back into the\nkitchen, there lay Cinderella in the ashes as usual; for she had slipped\ndown on the other side of the tree, and carried her beautiful clothes\nback to the bird at the hazel-tree, and then put on her little old\nfrock.\n\nThe third day, when her father and mother and sisters were gone, she\nwent again into the garden, and said--\n\n  \"Shake, shake, hazel-tree, gold and silver over me!\"\n\nThen her kind friend the bird brought a dress still finer than the\nformer one, and slippers which were all of gold; and the king's son\ndanced with her alone, and when any one else asked her to dance, he\nsaid, \"This lady is my partner.\" Now when night came she wanted to go\nhome; and the king's son would go with her, but she managed to slip away\nfrom him, though in such a hurry that she dropped her left golden\nslipper upon the stairs.\n\nSo the prince took the shoe, and went the next day to the king, his\nfather, and said, \"I will take for my wife the lady that this golden\nshoe fits.\"\n\nThen both the sisters were overjoyed to hear this; for they had\nbeautiful feet, and had no doubt that they could wear the golden\nslipper. The eldest went first into the room where the slipper was, and\nwanted to try it on, and the mother stood by. But her big toe could not\ngo into it, and the shoe was altogether much too small for her. Then the\nmother said, \"Never mind, cut it off. When you are queen you will not\ncare about toes; you will not want to go on foot.\" So the silly girl cut\nher big toe off, and squeezed the shoe on, and went to the king's son.\nThen he took her for his bride, and rode away with her.\n\nBut on their way home they had to pass by the hazel-tree that Cinderella\nhad planted, and there sat a little dove on the branch, singing--\n\n  \"Back again! back again! look to the shoe!\n  The shoe is too small, and not made for you!\n  Prince! prince! look again for thy bride,\n  For she's not the true one that sits by thy side.\"\n\nThen the prince looked at her foot, and saw by the blood that streamed\nfrom it what a trick she had played him. So he brought the false bride\nback to her home, and said, \"This is not the right bride; let the other\nsister try and put on the slipper.\" Then she went into the room and got\nher foot into the shoe, all but the heel, which was too large. But her\nmother squeezed it in till the blood came, and took her to the king's\nson; and he rode away with her. But when they came to the hazel-tree,\nthe little dove sat there still, and sang as before. Then the king's son\nlooked down, and saw that the blood streamed from the shoe. So he\nbrought her back again also. \"This is not the true bride,\" said he to\nthe father; \"have you no other daughters?\"\n\nThen Cinderella came and she took her clumsy shoe off, and put on the\ngolden slipper, and it fitted as if it had been made for her. And when\nhe drew near and looked at her face the prince knew her, and said, \"This\nis the right bride.\"\n\nThen he took Cinderella on his horse and rode away. And when they came\nto the hazel-tree the white dove sang--\n\n  \"Prince! prince! take home thy bride,\n  For she is the true one that sits by thy side!\"\n\n\n\n\nFAITHFUL JOHN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived an old King, who fell very sick, and\nthought he was lying upon his death-bed; so he said, \"Let faithful John\ncome to me.\" This faithful John was his affectionate servant, and was so\ncalled because he had been true to him all his lifetime. As soon as John\ncame to the bedside, the King said, \"My faithful John, I feel that my\nend approaches, and I have no other care than about my son, who is still\nso young that he cannot always guide himself aright. If you do not\npromise to instruct him in everything he ought to know, and to be his\nguardian, I cannot close my eyes in peace.\" Then John answered, \"I will\nnever leave him; I will always serve him truly, even if it costs me my\nlife.\" So the old King was comforted, and said, \"Now I can die in peace.\nAfter my death you must show him all the chambers, halls, and vaults in\nthe castle, and all the treasures which are in them; but the last room\nin the long corridor you must not show him, for in it hangs the portrait\nof the daughter of the King of the Golden Palace; if he sees her\npicture, he will conceive a great love for her, and will fall down in a\nswoon, and on her account undergo great perils, therefore you must keep\nhim away.\" The faithful John pressed his master's hand again in token of\nassent, and soon after the King laid his head upon the pillow and\nexpired.\n\nAfter the old King had been borne to his grave, the faithful John\nrelated to the young King all that his father had said upon his\ndeath-bed, and declared, \"All this I will certainly fulfil; I will be as\ntrue to you as I was to him, if it costs me my life.\" When the time of\nmourning was passed, John said to the young King, \"It is now time for\nyou to see your inheritance; I will show you your paternal castle.\" So\nhe led the King all over it, upstairs and downstairs, and showed him all\nthe riches, and all the splendid chambers; only one room he did not\nopen, containing the perilous portrait, which was so placed that one saw\nit directly the door was opened, and, moreover, it was so beautifully\npainted that one thought it breathed and moved; nothing in all the world\ncould be more lifelike or more beautiful. The young King remarked,\nhowever, that the faithful John always passed by one door, so he asked,\n\"Why do you not open that one?\" \"There is something in it,\" he replied,\n\"which will frighten you.\"\n\nBut the King said, \"I have seen all the rest of the castle, and I will\nknow what is in there,\" and he went and tried to open the door by force.\nThe faithful John pulled him back, and said, \"I promised your father\nbefore he died that you should not see the contents of that room; it\nwould bring great misfortunes both upon you and me.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" replied the young King, \"if I do not go in it will be my\ncertain ruin; I should have no peace night nor day until I had seen it\nwith my own eyes. Now I will not stir from the place till you unlock the\ndoor.\"\n\nThen the faithful John saw that it was of no use talking; so, with a\nheavy heart and many sighs, he picked the key out of the great bunch.\nWhen he had opened the door, he went in first, and thought he would\ncover up the picture, that the King should not see it; but it was of no\nuse, for the King stepped upon tiptoes and looked over his shoulder; and\nas soon as he saw the portrait of the maiden, which was so beautiful and\nglittered with precious stones, he fell down on the ground insensible.\nThe faithful John lifted him up and carried him to his bed, and thought\nwith great concern, \"Mercy on us! the misfortune has happened; what will\ncome of it?\" and he gave the young King wine until he came to himself.\nThe first words he spoke were, \"Who does that beautiful picture\nrepresent?\" \"That is the daughter of the King of the Golden Palace,\" was\nthe reply.\n\n\"Then,\" said the King, \"my love for her is so great that if all the\nleaves on the trees had tongues, they should not gainsay it; my life is\nset upon the search for her. You are my faithful John, you must\naccompany me.\"\n\nThe trusty servant deliberated for a long while how to set about this\nbusiness, for it was very difficult to get into the presence of the\nKing's daughter. At last he bethought himself of a way, and said to the\nKing, \"Everything which she has around her is of gold--chairs, tables,\ndishes, bowls, and all the household utensils. Among your treasures are\nfive tons of gold; let one of the goldsmiths of your kingdom manufacture\nvessels and utensils of all kinds therefrom--all kinds of birds, and\nwild and wonderful beasts, such as will please her, then we will travel\nwith these, and try our luck.\" Then the King summoned all his\ngoldsmiths, who worked day and night until many very beautiful things\nwere ready. When all had been placed on board a ship, the faithful John\nput on merchant's clothes, and the King likewise, so that they might\ntravel quite unknown. Then they sailed over the wide sea, and sailed\naway until they came to the city where dwelt the daughter of the King of\nthe Golden Palace.\n\nThe faithful John told the King to remain in the ship, and wait for him.\n\"Perhaps,\" said he, \"I shall bring the King's daughter with me;\ntherefore take care that all is in order, and set out the golden vessels\nand adorn the whole ship.\" Thereupon John placed in a napkin some of the\ngolden cups, stepped upon land, and went straight to the King's palace.\nWhen he came into the castle yard, a beautiful maid stood by the brook,\nwho had two golden pails in her hand, drawing water; and when she had\nfilled them and had turned round, she saw a strange man, and asked who\nhe was. Then John answered, \"I am a merchant\"; and opening his napkin he\nshowed her its contents. Then she exclaimed, \"Oh, what beautiful golden\nthings!\" and, setting the pails down, she looked at the cups one after\nanother, and said, \"The King's daughter must see these; she is so\npleased with anything made of gold that she will buy all these.\" And\ntaking him by the hand, she led him in; for she was the lady's maid.\nWhen the King's daughter saw the golden cups, she was much pleased, and\nsaid, \"They are so finely worked that I will purchase them all.\" But the\nfaithful John replied, \"I am only the servant of a rich merchant; what I\nhave here is nothing in comparison to those which my master has in his\nship, than which nothing more delicate or costly has ever been worked in\ngold.\" Then the King's daughter wished to have them all brought; but he\nsaid, \"It would take many days, and so great is the quantity that your\npalace has not halls enough in it to place them around.\" Then her\ncuriosity and desire were still more excited, and at last she said,\n\"Take me to the ship; I will go myself and look at your master's\ntreasure.\"\n\nThe faithful John conducted her to the ship with great joy, and the\nKing, when he beheld her, saw that her beauty was still greater than the\npicture had represented, and thought nothing else but that his heart\nwould jump out of his mouth. Presently she stepped on board, and the\nKing conducted her below; but the faithful John remained on deck by the\nsteersman, and told him to unmoor the ship and put on all the sail he\ncould, that it might fly as a bird through the air. Meanwhile the King\nshowed the Princess all the golden treasures--the dishes, cups, bowls,\nthe birds, the wild and wonderful beasts. Many hours passed away while\nshe looked at everything, and in her joy she did not remark that the\nship sailed on and on. As soon as she had looked at the last, and\nthanked the merchant, she wished to depart. But when she came on deck,\nshe perceived that they were upon the high sea, far from the shore, and\nwere hastening on with all sail. \"Ah,\" she exclaimed in affright, \"I am\nbetrayed; I am carried off and taken away in the power of a strange\nmerchant. I would rather die!\"\n\nBut the King, taking her by the hand, said, \"I am not a merchant, but a\nking, thine equal in birth. It is true that I have carried thee off; but\nthat is because of my overwhelming love for thee. Dost thou know that\nwhen I first saw the portrait of thy beauteous face I fell down in a\nswoon before it?\" When the King's daughter heard these words, she was\nreassured, and her heart was inclined toward him, so that she willingly\nbecame his bride. While they thus went on their voyage on the high sea,\nit happened that the faithful John, as he sat on the deck of the ship,\nplaying music, saw three crows in the air, who came flying toward them.\nHe stopped playing, and listened to what they were saying to each other,\nfor he understood them perfectly. The first one exclaimed, \"There he is,\ncarrying home the daughter of the King of the Golden Palace.\" \"But he is\nnot home yet,\" replied the second. \"But he has her,\" said the third;\n\"she is sitting by him in the ship.\" Then the first began again, and\nexclaimed, \"What matters that? When they go on shore a fox-colored horse\nwill spring toward them, on which he will mount; and as soon as he is on\nit, it will jump up with him into the air, so that he will never again\nsee his bride.\" The second one asked, \"Is there no escape?\" \"Oh, yes, if\nanother mounts behind quickly, and takes out the firearms which are in\nthe holster, and with them shoots the horse dead, then the young King\nwill be saved. But who knows that? And if any one does know it, and\ntells him, such a one will be turned to stone from the toe to the knee.\"\nThen the second spoke again, \"I know still more: if the horse should be\nkilled, the young King will not then retain his bride; for when they\ncome into the castle a beautiful bridal shirt will lie there upon a\ndish, and seem to be woven of gold and silver, but it is nothing but\nsulphur and pitch, and if he puts it on it will burn him to his marrow\nand bones.\" Then the third Crow asked, \"Is there no escape?\" \"Oh, yes,\"\nanswered the second, \"if some one takes up the shirt with his glove on,\nand throws it into the fire, so that it is burnt, the young King will be\nsaved. But what does that signify? Whoever knows it, and tells him, will\nbe turned to stone from his knee to his heart.\" Then the third Crow\nspoke: \"I know still more: even if the bridal shirt be consumed, still\nthe young King will not retain his bride. For if, after the wedding, a\ndance is held, while the young Queen dances she will suddenly turn pale,\nand fall down as if dead; and if some one does not raise her up, and\ntake three drops of blood from her right breast and throw them away, she\nwill die. But whoever knows that, and tells it, will have his whole body\nturned to stone, from the crown of his head to the toes of his feet.\"\n\nAfter the crows had thus talked with one another, they flew away, and\nthe trusty John, who had perfectly understood all they had said, was\nfrom that time very quiet and sad; for if he concealed from his master\nwhat he had heard, misfortune would happen to him, and if he told him\nall he must give up his own life. But at last he thought, \"I will save\nmy master, even if I destroy myself.\"\n\nAs soon as they came on shore, it happened just as the Crow had\nforetold, and an immense fox-red horse sprang up. \"Capital!\" said the\nKing, \"this shall carry me to my castle,\" and he tried to mount; but the\nfaithful John came straight up, and swinging himself quickly on, drew\nthe firearms out of the holster and shot the horse dead. Then the other\nservants of the King, who were not on good terms with the faithful John,\nexclaimed, \"How shameful to kill the beautiful creature, which might\nhave borne the King to the castle!\" But the King replied, \"Be silent,\nand let him go; he is my very faithful John--who knows the good he may\nhave done?\" Now they went into the castle, and there stood a dish in the\nhall, and the splendid bridal shirt lay in it, and seemed nothing else\nthan gold and silver. The young King went up to it and wished to take it\nup, but the faithful John pushed him away, and taking it up with his\ngloves on, bore it quickly to the fire and let it burn. The other\nservants thereupon began to murmur, saying, \"See, now he is burning the\nKing's bridal shirt!\" But the young King replied, \"Who knows what good\nhe has done? Let him alone--he is my faithful John.\"\n\nSoon after, the wedding was celebrated, and a grand ball was given, and\nthe bride began to dance. So the faithful John paid great attention, and\nwatched her countenance; all at once she grew pale, and fell as if dead\nto the ground. Then he sprang up hastily, raised her up and bore her to\na chamber, where he laid her down, kneeled beside her, and drawing the\nthree drops of blood out of her right breast, threw them away. As soon\nas she breathed again, she raised herself up; but the young King had\nwitnessed everything, and not knowing why the faithful John had done\nthis was very angry, and called out, \"Throw him into prison!\" The next\nmorning the trusty John was brought up for trial, and led to the\ngallows; and as he stood upon them, and was about to be executed, he\nsaid, \"Every one condemned to die may once before his death speak. Shall\nI also have that privilege?\" \"Yes,\" answered the King, \"it shall be\ngranted you.\" Then the faithful John replied, \"I have been unrighteously\njudged, and have always been true to you\"; and he narrated the\nconversation of the crows which he heard at sea; and how, in order to\nsave his master, he was obliged to do all he had done. Then the King\ncried out, \"Oh, my most trusty John, pardon, pardon; lead him away!\" But\nthe trusty John had fallen down at the last word and was turned into\nstone.\n\nAt this event both the King and the Queen were in great grief, and the\nKing thought, \"Ah, how wickedly have I rewarded his great fidelity!\" and\nhe had the stone statue raised up and placed in his sleeping-chamber,\nnear his bed; and as often as he looked at it, he wept and said, \"Ah,\ncould I bring you back to life again, my faithful John!\"\n\nAfter some time had passed, the Queen bore twins, two little sons, who\nwere her great joy. Once, when the Queen was in church, and the two\nchildren at home playing by their father's side, he looked up at the\nstone statue full of sorrow, and exclaimed with a sigh, \"Ah, could I\nrestore you to life, my faithful John!\" At these words the statue began\nto speak, saying, \"Yes, you can make me alive again, if you will bestow\non me that which is dearest to you.\" The King replied, \"All that I have\nin the world I will give up for you.\" The statue spake again: \"If you,\nwith your own hand, cut off the heads of both your children, and\nsprinkle me with their blood, I shall be brought to life again.\" The\nKing was terrified when he heard that he must himself kill his two dear\nchildren; but he remembered his servant's great fidelity, and how the\nfaithful John had died for him, and drawing his sword he cut off the\nheads of both his children with his own hand. And as soon as he had\nsprinkled the statue with blood, life came back to it, and the trusty\nJohn stood again alive and well before him, and said, \"Your faith shall\nnot go unrewarded\"; and taking the heads of the two children he set them\non again, and anointed their wounds with their blood, and thereupon they\nhealed again in a moment, and the children sprang away and played as if\nnothing had happened.\n\nNow the King was full of happiness, and as soon as he saw the Queen\ncoming, he hid the faithful John and both the children in a great\ncloset. As soon as she came in he said to her, \"Have you prayed in the\nchurch?\" \"Yes,\" she answered; \"but I thought continually of the faithful\nJohn, who has come to such misfortune through us.\" Then he replied, \"My\ndear wife, we can restore his life again to him, but it will cost us\nboth our little sons, whom we must sacrifice.\" The Queen became pale and\nwas terrified at heart, but she said, \"We are guilty of his life on\naccount of his great fidelity.\" Then he was very glad that she thought\nas he did, and going up to the closet, he unlocked it, brought out the\nchildren and the faithful John, saying, \"God be praised! he is saved,\nand we have still our little sons\"; and then he told her all that\nhappened. Afterward they lived happily together to the end of their\ndays.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WATER OF LIFE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who was so ill that everybody\ndespaired of his life, and his three sons were very sorry, and went out\ninto the palace gardens to weep. There they met an old man, who asked\nthe cause of their grief, and they told him their Father was so ill that\nhe must die, for nothing could save him. The old Man said, \"I know a\nmeans of saving him: if he drinks of the water of life it will restore\nhim to health; but it is very difficult to find.\"\n\n\"I will soon find it,\" said the eldest Son, and, going to the sick King,\nhe begged his permission to set out in search of the water of life,\nwhich alone could save him. \"No; the danger is too great,\" said the\nKing; \"I prefer to die.\" Nevertheless, the Son begged and entreated so\nlong that the King consented, and the Prince went away, thinking in his\nown heart, \"If I bring this water I am the dearest to my Father, and I\nshall inherit his kingdom.\"\n\nAfter he had ridden a long way he met a Dwarf on the road, who asked\nhim, \"Whither away so quickly?\"\n\n\"You stupid dandyprat,\" replied the Prince proudly, \"why should I tell\nyou that?\" and he rode off. But the little Man was angry and he wished\nan evil thing, so that, soon after, the Prince came into a narrow\nmountain-pass, and the farther he rode the narrower it grew, till at\nlast it was so close that he could get no farther; but neither could he\nturn his horse round, nor dismount, and he sat there like one amazed.\nMeanwhile the sick King waited a long while for him, but he did not\ncome; and the second Son asked leave to go too and seek the water, for\nhe thought to himself, \"If my Brother is dead the kingdom comes to me.\"\nAt first the King refused to spare him, but he gave way, and the Prince\nset out on the same road as the elder one had taken, and met also the\nsame Dwarf, who stopped him and asked him, \"Whither ride you so\nhastily?\" \"Little dandyprat,\" replied the Prince, \"what do you want to\nknow for?\" and he rode off without looking round. The Dwarf, however,\nenchanted him, and it happened to him as it had to his Brother: he came\nto a defile where he could move neither forward nor backward. Such is\nthe fate of all haughty people.\n\nNow, when the second Son did not return, the youngest begged leave to go\nand fetch the water, and the King was obliged at last to give his\nconsent. When he met the Dwarf, and was asked whither he was going so\nhurriedly, he stopped and replied, \"I seek the water of life, for my\nFather is sick unto death.\" \"Do you know where to find it?\" asked the\nDwarf. \"No,\" replied the Prince. \"Since you have behaved yourself as you\nought,\" said the Dwarf, \"and not haughtily like your false Brothers, I\nwill give you information and show you where you may obtain the water of\nlife. It flows from a fountain in the court of an enchanted castle, into\nwhich you can never penetrate if I do not give you an iron rod and two\nloaves of bread. With the rod knock thrice at the iron door of the\ncastle, and it will spring open. Within lie two lions with open jaws,\nbut if you throw down to each a loaf of bread they will be quiet. Then\nhasten and fetch some of the water of life before it strikes twelve, for\nthen the door will shut again, and you will be imprisoned.\"\n\nThe Prince thanked the Dwarf, and, taking the rod and bread, he set out\non his journey, and as he arrived at the castle he found it as the Dwarf\nhad said. At the third knock the door sprang open; and, when he had\nstilled the lions with the bread, he walked into a fine, large hall,\nwhere sat several enchanted Princes, from whose fingers he drew off the\nrings, and he also took away with him a sword and some bread which lay\nthere. A little farther on he came to a room wherein stood a beautiful\nmaiden, who was so pleased to see him that she kissed him and said he\nhad freed her, and should have her whole kingdom, and if he came in\nanother year their wedding should be celebrated. Then she told him where\nthe fountain of water of life was placed, and he hastened away lest it\nshould strike twelve ere he gained it. He came next into a room where a\nfine, clean covered bed stood, and, being tired, he lay down to rest\nhimself a bit. But he went to sleep, and when he awoke it struck the\nquarter to twelve, and the sound made him hurry to the fountain, from\nwhich he took some water in a cup which stood near. This done, he\nhastened to the door, and was scarcely out before it struck twelve, and\nthe door swung to so heavily that it carried away a piece of his heel.\n\nBut he was very glad, in spite of this, that he had procured the water,\nand he journeyed homeward, and passed again where the Dwarf stood. When\nthe Dwarf saw the sword and bread which he had brought away he declared\nhe had done well, for with the sword he could destroy whole armies--but\nthe bread was worth nothing. Now, the Prince was not willing to return\nhome to his Father without his Brothers, and so he said to the Dwarf,\n\"Dear Dwarf, can you tell me where my Brothers are? They went out before\nme in search of the water of life, and did not return.\" \"They are stuck\nfast between two mountains,\" replied the Dwarf; \"because they were so\nhaughty, I enchanted them there.\"\n\nThen the Prince begged for their release, till at last the Dwarf brought\nthem out; but he warned the youngest to beware of them, for they had\nevil in their hearts.\n\nWhen his Brothers came he was very glad, and he related to them all that\nhad happened to him; how he had found the water of life and brought away\na cupful of it; and how he had rescued a beautiful Princess, who for a\nwhole year was going to wait for him, and then he was to return to be\nmarried to her, and receive a rich kingdom. After this tale the three\nBrothers rode away together, and soon entered a province where there\nwere war and famine raging, and the King thought he should perish, so\ngreat was his necessity. The youngest Prince went to this King and gave\nhim the bread, with which he fed and satisfied his whole people; and\nthen the Prince gave him the sword, wherewith he defeated and slew all\nhis enemies, and regained peace and quiet. This effected, the Prince\ntook back the bread and sword, and rode on farther with his Brothers,\nand by and by they came to two other provinces where also war and famine\nwere destroying the people. To each King the Prince lent his bread and\nsword, and so saved three kingdoms. After, this they went on board a\nship to pass over the sea which separated them from home, and during the\nvoyage the two elder Brothers said to one another, \"Our Brother has\nfound the water of life and we have not; therefore our Father will give\nthe kingdom which belongs to us to him, and our fortune will be taken\naway.\" Indulging these thoughts they became so envious that they\nconsulted together how they should kill him, and one day, waiting till\nhe was fast asleep, they poured the water out of his cup and took it for\nthemselves, while they filled his up with bitter salt water. As soon as\nthey arrived at home the youngest Brother took his cup to the sick King,\nthat he might drink out of it and regain his health. But scarcely had he\ndrunk a very little of the water when he became worse than before, for\nit was as bitter as wormwood. While the King lay in this state, the two\nelder Princes came, and accused their Brother of poisoning their Father;\nbut they had brought the right water, and they handed it to the King.\nScarcely had he drunk a little out of the cup when the King felt his\nsickness leave him, and soon he was as strong and healthy as in his\nyoung days. The two Brothers now went to the youngest Prince, mocking\nhim, and saying, \"You certainly found the water of life; but you had the\ntrouble and we had the reward; you should have been more cautious and\nkept your eyes open, for we took your cup while you were asleep on the\nsea; and, moreover, in a year one of us intends to fetch your Princess.\nBeware, however, that you betray us not; the King will not believe you,\nand if you say a single word your life will be lost; but if you remain\nsilent you are safe.\" The old King, nevertheless, was very angry with\nhis youngest Son, who had conspired, as he believed, against his life.\nHe caused his court to be assembled, and sentence was given to the\neffect that the Prince should be secretly shot; and once as he rode out\nhunting, unsuspicious of any evil, the Huntsman was sent with him to\nperform the deed. By and by, when they were alone in the wood, the\nHuntsman seemed so sad that the Prince asked him what ailed him. The\nHuntsman replied, \"I cannot and yet must tell you.\" \"Tell me boldly what\nit is,\" said the Prince, \"I will forgive you.\" \"Ah, it is no other than\nthat I must shoot you, for so has the King ordered me,\" said the\nHuntsman, with a deep sigh.\n\nThe Prince was frightened, and said, \"Let me live, dear Huntsman, let me\nlive! I will give you my royal coat and you shall give me yours in\nexchange.\" To this the Huntsman readily assented, for he felt unable to\nshoot the Prince, and after they had exchanged their clothing the\nHuntsman returned home, and the Prince went deeper into the wood.\n\nA short time afterward three wagons laden with gold and precious stones\ncame to the King's palace for his youngest Son. They were sent by the\nthree Kings in token of gratitude for the sword which had defeated their\nenemies, and the bread which had nourished their people. At this arrival\nthe old King said to himself, \"Perhaps, after all, my Son was\nguiltless,\" and he lamented to his courtiers that he had let his Son be\nkilled. But the Huntsman cried out, \"He lives yet! for I could not find\nit in my heart to fulfil your commands\"; and he told the King how it had\nhappened. The King felt as if a stone had been removed from his heart,\nand he caused it to be proclaimed everywhere throughout his dominions\nthat his Son might return and would again be taken into favor.\n\nMeanwhile the Princess had caused a road to be made up to her castle of\npure shining gold, and she told her attendants that whoever should ride\nstraight up this road would be the right person, and one whom they might\nadmit into the castle; but, on the contrary, whoever should ride up not\non the road, but by the side, they were ordered on no account to admit,\nfor he was not the right person. When, therefore, the time came round\nwhich the Princess had mentioned to the youngest Prince, the eldest\nBrother thought he would hasten to her castle and announce himself as\nher deliverer, that he might gain her as a bride and the kingdom\nbesides. So he rode away, and when he came in front of the castle and\nsaw the fine golden road he thought it would be a shame to ride thereon,\nand so he turned to the left hand and rode up out of the road. But as he\ncame up to the door the guards told him he was not the right person, and\nhe must ride back again. Soon afterward the second Prince also set out,\nand he, likewise, when he came to the golden road and his horse set its\nforefeet upon it, thought it would be a pity to travel upon it, so he\nturned aside to the right hand and went up. When he came to the gate the\nguards refused him admittance, and told him he was not the person\nexpected, and so he had to return homeward. The youngest Prince, who had\nall this time been wandering about in the forest, had also remembered\nthat the year was up, and soon after his Brothers' departure he appeared\nbefore the castle and rode up straight on the golden road, for he was so\ndeeply engaged in thinking of his beloved Princess that he did not\nobserve it. As soon as he arrived at the door it was opened, and the\nPrincess received him with joy, saving he was her deliverer and the lord\nof her dominions. Soon after their wedding was celebrated, and when it\nwas over the Princess told her husband that his Father had forgiven him\nand desired to see him. Thereupon he rode to the old King's palace, and\ntold him how his Brothers had betrayed him while he slept, and had sworn\nhim to silence. When the King heard this he would have punished the\nfalse Brothers, but they had prudently taken themselves off in a ship,\nand they never returned home afterward.\n\n\n\n\nTHUMBLING\n\n\nThere was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the hearth and\npoked the fire, and his wife sat and span. Then said he, \"How sad it is\nthat we have no children! With us all is so quiet, and in other houses\nit is noisy and lively.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the wife, and sighed, \"even if we had only one, and it\nwere quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite\nsatisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.\" Now it so\nhappened that their wish was granted and a child was given them, but\nalthough it was perfect in all its limbs, it was no longer than a thumb.\nThen said they, \"It is as we wished it to be, and it shall be our dear\nchild;\" and because of its size, they called it Thumbling. They did not\nlet it want for food, but the child did not grow taller, but remained as\nit had been at the first, nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its\neyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature, for\neverything it did turned out well.\n\nOne day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut wood,\nwhen he said as if to himself, \"How I wish that there was any one who\nwould bring the cart to me!\" \"Oh, father,\" cried Thumbling, \"I will soon\nbring the cart; rely on that; it shall be in the forest at the appointed\ntime.\" The man smiled and said, \"How can that be done; you are far too\nsmall to lead the horse by the reins?\" \"That's of no consequence,\nfather, if my mother will only harness it, I will sit in the horse's\near, and call out to him how he is to go.\" \"Well,\" answered the man,\n\"for once we will try it.\"\n\nWhen the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed Thumbling\nin its ear, and then the little creature cried, \"Gee up, gee up!\"\n\nThen it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart went the\nright way into the forest. It so happened that just as he was turning a\ncorner, and the little one was crying, \"Gee up,\" two strange men came\ntowards him. \"My word!\" said one of them. \"What is this? There is a cart\ncoming, and a driver is calling to the horse, and still he is not to be\nseen!\" \"That can't be right,\" said the other, \"we will follow the cart\nand see where it stops.\" The cart, however, drove right into the forest,\nand exactly to the place where the wood had been cut. When Thumbling saw\nhis father, he cried to him, \"See, father, here I am with the cart; now\ntake me down.\" The father got hold of the horse with his left hand, and\nwith the right took his little son out of the ear. Thumbling sat down\nquite merrily on a straw, but when the two strange men saw him, they did\nnot know what to say for astonishment. Then one of them took the other\naside and said, \"Hark, the little fellow would make our fortune if we\nexhibited him in a large town, for money. We will buy him.\" They went to\nthe peasant and said, \"Sell us the little man. He shall be well treated\nwith us.\" \"No,\" replied the father, \"he is the apple of my eye, and all\nthe money in the world cannot buy him from me.\" Thumbling, however, when\nhe heard of the bargain, had crept up the folds of his father's coat,\nplaced himself on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. \"Father, do\ngive me away; I will soon come back again.\" Then the father parted with\nhim to the two men for a handsome bit of money. \"Where do you want to\nsit?\" they said to him. \"Oh, just set me on the rim of your hat, and\nthen I can walk backwards and forwards and look at the country, and\nstill not fall down.\" They did as he wished, and when Thumbling had\ntaken leave of his father, they went away with him. They walked until it\nwas dusk, and then the little fellow said, \"Do take me down; I want to\ncome down.\" The man took his hat off, and put the little fellow on the\nground by the wayside, and he leapt and crept about a little between the\nsods, and then he suddenly slipped into a mouse-hole which he had sought\nout. \"Good-evening, gentlemen, just go home without me,\" he cried to\nthem, and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their sticks into the\nmouse-hole, but it was all lost labor. Thumbling crept still farther in,\nand as it soon became quite dark, they were forced to go home with their\nvexation and their empty purses.\n\nWhen Thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the\nsubterranean passage. \"It is so dangerous to walk on the ground in the\ndark,\" said he; \"how easily a neck or a leg is broken!\" Fortunately, he\nknocked against an empty snail-shell. \"Thank God!\" said he. \"In that I\ncan pass the night in safety,\" and got into it. Not long afterwards,\nwhen he was just going to sleep, he heard two men go by, and one of them\nwas saying, \"How shall we contrive to get hold of the rich pastor's\nsilver and gold?\" \"I could tell you that,\" cried Thumbling, interrupting\nthem. \"What was that?\" said one of the thieves in a fright; \"I heard\nsome one speaking.\" They stood still listening, and Thumbling spoke\nagain and said, \"Take me with you, and I'll help you.\"\n\n\"But where are you?\" \"Just look on the ground, and observe from where my\nvoice comes,\" he replied. There the thieves at length found him, and\nlifted him up. \"You little imp, how will you help us?\" they said. \"A\ngreat deal,\" said he; \"I will creep into the pastor's room through the\niron bars, and will reach out to you whatever you want to have.\" \"Come,\nthen,\" they said, \"and we will see what you can do.\" When they got to\nthe pastor's house, Thumbling crept into the room, but instantly cried\nout with all his might, \"Do you want to have everything that is here?\"\nThe thieves were alarmed, and said, \"But do speak softly, so as not to\nwaken any one!\" Thumbling, however, behaved as if he had not understood\nthis, and cried again, \"What do you want? Do you want to have everything\nthat is here?\" The cook, who slept in the next room, heard this and sat\nup in bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had in their fright run\nsome distance away, but at last they took courage, and thought, \"The\nlittle rascal wants to mock us.\" They came back and whispered to him,\n\"Come, be serious, and reach something out to us.\" Then Thumbling again\ncried as loudly as he could, \"I really will give you everything, only\nput your hands in.\" The maid who was listening, heard this quite\ndistinctly, and jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. The thieves\ntook flight, and ran as if the Wild Huntsman were behind them, but as\nthe maid could not see anything, she went to strike a light. When she\ncame to the place with it, Thumbling, unperceived, hid himself in the\ngranary, and the maid, after she had examined every corner and found\nnothing, lay down in her bed again, and believed that, after all, she\nhad only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.\n\nThumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful place to\nsleep in: there he intended to rest until day, and then go home again to\nhis parents. But he had other things to go through. Truly there is much\naffliction and misery in this world! When day dawned, the maid arose\nfrom her bed to feed the cows. Her first walk was into the barn, where\nshe laid hold of an armful of hay, and precisely that very one in which\npoor Thumbling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so soundly\nthat he was aware of nothing, and did not awake until he was in the\nmouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay. \"Ah, heavens!\"\ncried he, \"how have I got into the fulling mill?\" but he soon discovered\nwhere he was. Then it was necessary to be careful not to let himself go\nbetween the teeth and be dismembered, but he was nevertheless forced to\nslip down into the stomach with the hay. \"In this little room the\nwindows are forgotten,\" said he, \"and no sun shines in, neither will a\ncandle be brought.\" His quarters were especially unpleasing to him, and\nthe worst was, more and more hay was always coming in by the door, and\nthe space grew less and less. Then, at length in his anguish, he cried\nas loud as he could, \"Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder.\"\nThe maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard some one speaking,\nand saw no one, and perceived that it was the same voice that she had\nheard in the night, she was so terrified that she slipped off her stool,\nand spilt the milk. She ran in the greatest haste to her master, and\nsaid, \"Oh, heavens, pastor, the cow has been speaking!\" \"You are mad,\"\nreplied the pastor; but he went himself to the byre to see what was\nthere. Hardly, however, had he set his foot inside than Thumbling again\ncried, \"Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder.\" Then the\npastor himself was alarmed, and thought that an evil spirit had gone\ninto the cow, and ordered her to be killed. She was killed, but the\nstomach, in which Thumbling was, was thrown on the midden. Thumbling had\ngreat difficulty in working his way out; however, he succeeded so far as\nto get some room, but, just as he was going to thrust his head out, a\nnew misfortune occurred. A hungry wolf ran thither, and swallowed the\nwhole stomach at one gulp. Thumbling did not lose courage. \"Perhaps,\"\nthought he, \"the wolf will listen to what I have got to say,\" and he\ncalled to him from out of his stomach, \"Dear wolf, I know of a\nmagnificent feast for you.\"\n\n\"Where is it to be had?\" said the wolf.\n\n\"In such and such a house; you must creep into it through the\nkitchen-sink; you will find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and as much\nof them as you can eat,\" and he described to him exactly his father's\nhouse. The wolf did not require to be told this twice, squeezed himself\nin at night through the sink, and ate to his heart's content in the\nlarder. When he had eaten his fill, he wanted to go out again, but he\nhad become so big that he could not go out by the same way. Thumbling\nhad reckoned on this, and now began to make a violent noise in the wolfs\nbody, and raged and screamed as loudly as he could. \"Will you be quiet,\"\nsaid the wolf; \"you will waken up the people!\" \"Eh, what,\" replied the\nlittle fellow, \"you have eaten your fill, and I will make merry\nlikewise,\" and began once more to scream with all his strength. At last\nhis father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to the room and looked\nin through the opening in the door. When they saw that a wolf was\ninside, they ran away, and the husband fetched his axe, and the wife the\nscythe. \"Stay behind,\" said the man, when they entered the room. \"When I\nhave given him a blow, if he is not killed by it, you must cut him down\nand hew his body to pieces.\" Then Thumbling heard his parents' voices,\nand cried, \"Dear father, I am here; I am in the wolf's body.\" Said the\nfather, full of joy, \"Thank God, our dear child has found us again,\" and\nbade the woman take away her scythe, that Thumbling might not be hurt\nwith it. After that he raised his arm, and struck the wolf such a blow\non his head that he fell down dead, and then they got knives and\nscissors and cut his body open, and drew the little fellow forth. \"Ah,\"\nsaid the father, \"what sorrow we have gone through for your sake.\" \"Yes,\nfather, I have gone about the world a great deal. Thank heaven, I\nbreathe fresh air again!\" \"Where have you been, then?\" \"Ah, father, I\nhave been in a mouse's hole, in a cow's stomach, and then in a wolf's;\nnow I will stay with you.\" \"And we will not sell you again; no, not for\nall the riches in the world,\" said his parents, and they embraced and\nkissed their dear Thumbling.\n\n\n\n\nBRIAR ROSE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a king and queen who had no children; and\nthis they lamented very much. But one day, as the queen was walking by\nthe side of the river, a little fish lifted its head out of the water,\nand said, \"Your wish shall be fulfilled, and you shall soon have a\ndaughter.\"\n\nWhat the little fish had foretold soon came to pass; and the queen had a\nlittle girl who was so very beautiful that the king could not cease\nlooking on her for joy, and determined to hold a great feast. So he\ninvited not only his relations, friends, and neighbors, but also all the\nfairies, that they might be kind and good to his little daughter. Now\nthere were thirteen fairies in his kingdom, and he had only twelve\ngolden dishes for them to eat out of, so that he was obliged to leave\none of the fairies without an invitation. The rest came, and after the\nfeast was over they gave all their best gifts to the little princess;\none gave her virtue, another beauty, another riches, and so on till she\nhad all that was excellent in the world. When eleven had done blessing\nher, the thirteenth, who had not been invited, and was very angry on\nthat account, came in, and determined to take her revenge. So she cried\nout, \"The king's daughter shall in her fifteenth year be wounded by a\nspindle, and fall down dead.\" Then the twelfth, who had not yet given\nher gift, came forward and said that the bad wish must be fulfilled, but\nthat she could soften it, and that the king's daughter should not die,\nbut fall asleep for a hundred years.\n\nBut the king hoped to save his dear child from the threatened evil, and\nordered that all the spindles in the kingdom should be bought up and\ndestroyed. All the fairies' gifts were in the meantime fulfilled; for\nthe princess was so beautiful, and well-behaved and amiable, and wise,\nthat every one who knew her loved her.\n\nNow it happened that on the very day she was fifteen years old the king\nand queen were not at home, and she was left alone in the palace. So she\nroamed about by herself, and looked at all the rooms and chambers, till\nat last she came to an old tower, to which there was a narrow staircase\nending with a little door. In the door there was a golden key, and when\nshe turned it the door sprang open, and there sat an old lady spinning\naway very busily.\n\n\"Why, how now, good mother,\" said the princess, \"what are you doing\nthere?\"\n\n\"Spinning,\" said the old lady, and nodded her head. \"How prettily that\nlittle thing turns round!\" said the princess, and took the spindle and\nbegan to spin. But scarcely had she touched it before the prophecy was\nfulfilled, and she fell down lifeless on the ground.\n\nHowever, she was not dead, but had only fallen into a deep sleep; and\nthe king and the queen, who just then came home, and all their court,\nfell asleep too, and the horses slept in the stables, and the dogs in\nthe yard, and the pigeons on the house-top, and the flies on the walls.\nEven the fire on the I  hearth left off blazing, and went to sleep; and\nthe meat that was roasting stood still; and the cook, who was at that\nmoment pulling the kitchen-boy by the hair to give him a box on the ear\nfor something he had done amiss, let him go, and both fell asleep; and\nso everything stood still, and slept soundly.\n\nA high hedge of thorns soon grew around the palace, and every year it\nbecame higher and thicker, till at last the whole palace was surrounded\nand hidden, so that not even the roof or the chimneys could be seen.\n\nBut there went a report through all the land of the beautiful sleeping\nBriar Rose, for thus was the king's daughter called; so that from time\nto time several kings' sons came, and tried to break through the thicket\ninto the palace.\n\nThis they could never do; for the thorns and bushes laid hold of them as\nit were with hands, and there they stuck fast and died miserably.\n\nAfter many, many years there came another king's son into that land, and\nan old man told him the story of the thicket of thorns, and how a\nbeautiful palace stood behind it, in which was a wondrous princess,\ncalled Briar Rose, asleep with all her court. He told, too, how he had\nheard from his grandfather that many, many princes had come, and had\ntried to break through the thicket, but had stuck fast and died.\n\nThen the young prince said, \"All this shall not frighten me; I will go\nand see Briar Rose.\" The old man tried to dissuade him, but he persisted\nin going.\n\nNow that very day the hundred years were completed; and as the prince\ncame to the thicket he saw nothing but beautiful flowering shrubs,\nthrough which he passed with ease, and they closed after him as firm as\never.\n\nThen he came at last to the palace, and there in the yard lay the dogs\nasleep, and the horses in the stables, and on the roof sat the pigeons\nfast asleep with their heads under their wings; and when he came into\nthe palace, the flies slept on the walls, and the cook in the kitchen\nwas still holding up her hand as if she would beat the boy, and the maid\nsat with a black fowl in her hand ready to be plucked.\n\nThen he went on still further, and all was so still that he could hear\nevery breath he drew; till at last he came to the old tower and opened\nthe door of the little room in which Briar Rose was, and there she lay\nfast asleep, and looked so beautiful that he could not take his eyes\noff, and he stooped down and gave her a kiss. But the moment he kissed\nher she opened her eyes and awoke, and smiled upon him.\n\nThen they went out together, and presently the king and queen also\nawoke, and all the court, and they gazed on each other with great\nwonder.\n\nAnd the horses got up and shook themselves, and the dogs jumped about\nand barked; the pigeons took their heads from under their wings, and\nlooked about and flew into the fields; the flies on the walls buzzed\naway; the fire in the kitchen blazed up and cooked the dinner, and the\nroast meat turned round again; the cook gave the boy the box on his ear\nso that he cried out, and the maid went on plucking the fowl.\n\nAnd then was the wedding of the prince and Briar Rose celebrated, and\nthey lived happily together all their lives.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIX SWANS\n\n\nA King was once hunting in a large wood, and pursued his game so hotly\nthat none of his courtiers could follow him. But when evening approached\nhe stopped, and looking around him perceived that he had lost himself.\nHe sought a path out of the forest but could not find one, and presently\nhe saw an old woman, with a nodding head, who came up to him. \"My good\nwoman,\" said he to her, \"can you not show me the way out of the forest?\"\n\"Oh, yes, my lord King,\" she replied; \"I can do that very well, but upon\none condition, which if you do not fulfil, you will never again get out\nof the wood, but will die of hunger.\"\n\n\"What, then, is this condition?\" asked the King.\n\n\"I have a daughter,\" said the old woman, \"who is as beautiful as any one\nyou can find in die whole world, and well deserves to be your bride.\nNow, if you will make her your Queen, I will show you your way out of\nthe wood.\" In the anxiety of his heart, the King consented, and the old\nwoman led him to her cottage, where the daughter was sitting by the\nfire. She received the King as if she had expected him, and he saw at\nonce that she was very beautiful, but yet she did not quite please him,\nfor he could not look at her without a secret shuddering. However, he\ntook the maiden upon his horse, and the old woman showed him the way,\nand the King arrived safely at his palace, where the wedding was to be\ncelebrated.\n\nThe King had been married once before, and had seven children by his\nfirst wife, six boys and a girl, whom he loved above everything else in\nthe world. He became afraid, soon, that the step-mother might not treat\nhis children very well, and might even do them some great injury, so he\ntook them away to a lonely castle which stood in the midst of a forest.\nThe castle was so entirely hidden, and the way to it was so difficult to\ndiscover, that he himself could not have found it if a wise woman had\nnot given him a ball of cotton which had the wonderful property, when he\nthrew it before him, of unrolling itself and showing him the right path.\nThe King went, however, so often to see his dear children, that the\nQueen, noticing his absence, became inquisitive, and wished to know what\nhe went to fetch out of the forest. So she gave his servants a great\nquantity of money, and they disclosed to her the secret, and also told\nher of the ball of cotton which alone could show her the way. She had\nnow no peace until she discovered where this ball was concealed, and\nthen she made some fine silken shirts, and, as she had learnt of her\nmother, she sewed within each a charm. One day soon after, when the King\nwas gone out hunting, she took the little shirts and went into the\nforest, and the cotton showed her the path. The children, seeing some\none coming in the distance, thought it was their dear father, and ran\nout full of joy. Then she threw over each of them a shirt, that, as it\ntouched their bodies, changed them into Swans, which flew away over the\nforest. The Queen then went home quite contented, and thought she was\nfree of her step-children; but the little girl had not met her with the\nbrothers, and the Queen did not know of her.\n\nThe following day the King went to visit his children, but he found only\nthe Maiden. \"Where are your brothers?\" asked he. \"Ah, dear father,\" she\nreplied, \"they are gone away and have left me alone\"; and she told him\nhow she had looked out of the window and seen them changed into Swans,\nwhich had flown over the forest; and then she showed him the feathers\nwhich they had dropped in the courtyard, and which she had collected\ntogether. The King was much grieved, but he did not think that his wife\ncould have done this wicked deed, and, as he feared the girl might also\nbe stolen away, he took her with him. She was, however, so much afraid\nof the step-mother, that she begged him not to stop more than one night\nin the castle.\n\nThe poor Maiden thought to herself, \"This is no longer my place; I will\ngo and seek my brothers\"; and when night came she escaped and went quite\ndeep into the wood. She walked all night long, and a great part of the\nnext day, until she could go no further from weariness. Just then she\nsaw a rough-looking hut, and going in, she found a room with six little\nbeds, but she dared not get into one, so crept under, and laying herself\nupon the hard earth, prepared to pass the night there. Just as the sun\nwas setting, she heard a rustling, and saw six white Swans come flying\nin at the window. They settled on the ground and began blowing one\nanother until they had blown all their feathers off, and their swan's\ndown slipped from them like a shirt. Then the Maiden knew them at once\nfor her brothers, and gladly crept out from under the bed, and the\nbrothers were not less glad to see their sister, but their joy was of\nshort duration. \"Here you must not stay,\" said they to her; \"this is a\nrobbers' hiding-place; if they should return and find you here, they\nwould murder you.\"\n\n\"Can you not protect me, then?\" inquired the sister.\n\n\"No,\" they replied; \"for we can only lay aside our swan's feathers for a\nquarter of an hour each evening, and for that time we regain our human\nform, but afterwards we resume our changed appearance.\"\n\nTheir sister then asked them, with tears, \"Can you not be restored\nagain?\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" replied they; \"the conditions are too difficult. For six long\nyears you must neither speak nor laugh, and during that time you must\nsew together for us six little shirts of star-flowers, and should there\nfall a single word from your lips, then all your labor will be in vain.\"\nJust as the brothers finished speaking, the quarter of an hour elapsed,\nand they all flew out of the window again like Swans.\n\nThe little sister, however, made a solemn resolution to rescue her\nbrothers, or die in the attempt; and she left the cottage, and,\npenetrating deep into the forest, passed the night amid the branches of\na tree. The next morning she went out and collected the star-flowers to\nsew together. She had no one to converse with and for laughing she had\nno spirits, so there up in the tree she sat, intent upon her work.\n\nAfter she had passed some time there, it happened that the King of that\ncountry was hunting in the forest, and his huntsmen came beneath the\ntree on which the Maiden sat. They called to her and asked, \"Who art\nthou?\" But she gave no answer. \"Come down to us,\" continued they; \"we\nwill do thee no harm.\" She simply shook her head, and when they pressed\nher further with questions, she threw down to them her gold necklace,\nhoping therewith to satisfy them. They did not, however, leave her, and\nshe threw down her girdle, but in vain! and even her rich dress did not\nmake them desist. At last the huntsman himself climbed the tree and\nbrought down the Maiden, and took her before the King.\n\nThe King asked her, \"Who art thou? What dost thou upon that tree?\" But\nshe did not answer; and then he questioned her in all the languages that\nhe knew, but she remained dumb to all, as a fish. Since, however, she\nwas so beautiful, the King's heart was touched, and he conceived for her\na strong affection. Then he put around her his cloak, and, placing her\nbefore him on his horse, took her to his castle. There he ordered rich\nclothing to be made for her, and, although her beauty shone as the\nsunbeams, not a word escaped her. The King placed her by his side at\ntable, and there her dignified mien and manners so won upon him, that he\nsaid, \"This Maiden will I marry, and no other in the world;\" and after\nsome days he wedded her.\n\nNow, the King had a wicked step-mother, who was discontented with his\nmarriage, and spoke evil of the young Queen. \"Who knows whence the wench\ncomes?\" said she. \"She who cannot speak is not worthy of a King.\" A year\nafter, when the Queen brought her first-born into the world, the old\nwoman took him away. Then she went to the King and complained that the\nQueen was a murderess. The King, however, would not believe it, and\nsuffered no one to do any injury to his wife, who sat composedly sewing\nat her shirts and paying attention to nothing else. When a second child\nwas born, the false stepmother used the same deceit, but the King again\nwould not listen to her words, saying, \"She is too pious and good to act\nso; could she but speak and defend herself, her innocence would come to\nlight.\" But when again, the old woman stole away the third child, and\nthen accused the Queen, who answered not a word to the accusation, the\nKing was obliged to give her up to be tried, and she was condemned to\nsuffer death by fire.\n\nWhen the time had elapsed, and the sentence was to be carried out, it\nhappened that the very day had come round when her dear brothers should\nbe set free; the six shirts were also ready, all but the last, which yet\nwanted the left sleeve. As she was led to the scaffold, she placed the\nshirts upon her arm, and just as she had mounted it, and the fire was\nabout to be kindled, she looked around, and saw six Swans come flying\nthrough the air. Her heart leapt for joy as she perceived her deliverers\napproaching, and soon the Swans, flying towards her, alighted so near\nthat she was enabled to throw over them the shirts, and as soon as she\nhad done so, their feathers fell off and the brothers stood up alive and\nwell; but the youngest was without his left arm, instead of which he had\na swan's wing. They embraced and kissed each other, and the Queen, going\nto the King, who was thunderstruck, began to say, \"Now may I speak, my\ndear husband, and prove to you that I am innocent and falsely accused;\"\nand then she told him how the wicked woman had stolen away and hidden\nher three children. When she had concluded, the King was overcome with\njoy, and the wicked stepmother was led to the scaffold and bound to the\nstake and burnt to ashes. The King and Queen for ever after lived in\npeace and prosperity with their six brothers.\n\n\n\n\nRAPUNZEL\n\n\nThere were once a man and a woman who had long in in vain wished for a\nchild. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire.\nThese people had a little window at the back of their house from which a\nsplendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful\nflowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no\none dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had\ngreat power and was dreaded by all the world. One day the woman was\nstanding by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a\nbed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion (rapunzel), and it\nlooked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest\ndesire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew\nthat she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and looked pale\nand miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, \"What ails you,\ndear wife?\" \"Ah,\" she replied, \"if I can't get some of the rampion which\nis in the garden behind our house, to eat, I shall die.\" The man, who\nloved her, thought, \"Sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of\nthe rampion yourself, let it cost you what it will.\" In the twilight of\nevening, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the\nenchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his\nwife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it with much\nrelish. She, however, liked it so much, so very much, that the next day\nshe longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any\nrest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom\nof evening, therefore, he let himself down again; but when he had\nclambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the\nenchantress standing before him. \"How can you dare,\" said she with angry\nlook, \"to descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You\nshall suffer for it!\" \"Ah,\" answered he, \"let mercy take the place of\njustice. I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw\nyour rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she\nwould have died if she had not got some to eat.\" Then the enchantress\nallowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, \"If the case be as\nyou say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you\nwill, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your\nwife will bring into the world; it shall be well treated, and I will\ncare for it like a mother.\" The man in his terror consented to\neverything, and when the little one came to them, the enchantress\nappeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away\nwith her.\n\nRapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. When she\nwas twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay\nin a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a\nlittle window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself\nbeneath this, and cried,\n\n  \"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,\n  Let down your hair to me.\"\n\nRapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she\nheard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses,\nwound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair\nfell twenty yards down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.\n\nAfter a year or two, it came to pass that the King's son rode through\nthe forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so\ncharming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her\nsolitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The King's\nson wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but\nnone was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply\ntouched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and\nlistened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw\nthat an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,\n\n  \"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,\n  Let down your hair.\"\n\nThen Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress\nclimbed up to her. \"If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will\nfor once try my fortune,\" said he, and the next day, when it began to\ngrow dark, he went to the tower and cried.\n\n  \"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,\n  Let down your hair.\"\n\nImmediately the hair fell down, and the King's son climbed up.\n\nAt first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as her eyes\nhad never yet beheld came to her; but the King's son began to talk to\nher quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred\nthat it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her.\nThen Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him\nfor a husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought,\n\"He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does;\" and she said yes, and\nlaid her hand in his. She said, \"I will willingly go away with you, but\nI do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time\nthat you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready\nI will descend, and you will take me on your horse.\" They agreed that\nuntil that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman\ncame by day. The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once\nRapunzel said to her, \"Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are\nso much heavier for me to draw up than the young King's son--he is with\nme in a moment.\" \"Ah! you wicked child,\" cried the enchantress, \"what do\nI hear you say! I thought I had separated you from all the world, and\nyet you have deceived me!\" In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's\nbeautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair\nof scissors with the right, and snip, snip, they were cut off, and the\nlovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took\npoor Rapunzel into a desert, where she had to live in great grief and\nmisery.\n\nOn the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the enchantress in\nthe evening fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off to the\nhook of the window, and when the King's son came and cried,\n\n  \"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,\n  Let down your hair,\"\n\nshe let the hair down. The King's son ascended, but he did not find his\ndearest Rapunzel above, but the enchantress, who gazed at him with\nwicked and venomous looks. \"Aha!\" she cried mockingly. \"You would fetch\nyour dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest;\nthe cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is\nlost to you; you will never see her more.\" The King's son was beside\nhimself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He\nescaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his\neyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but\nroots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over the loss of\nhis dearest wife. Thus he roamed about  I in misery for some years, and\nat length came to the desert where Rapunzel lived in wretchedness. He\nheard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it,\nand when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept.\nTwo of her tears wetted his eyes, and they grew clear again, and he\ncould see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom, where he was\njoyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and\ncontented.\n\n\n\n\nMOTHER HOLLE\n\n\nThere was once a widow who had two daughters--one of whom was pretty and\nindustrious, while the other was ugly and idle. But she was much fonder\nof the ugly and idle one, because she was her own daughter; and the\nother, who was a step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and be\nthe Cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a\nwell, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.\n\nNow it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her blood, so\nshe dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off; but it dropped out of\nher hand and fell to the bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her\nstep-mother and told of the mishap. But she scolded her sharply, and was\nso merciless as to say, \"Since you have let the shuttle fall in, you\nmust fetch it out again.\"\n\nSo the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do; and in\nthe sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the shuttle. She\nlost her senses; and when she awoke and came to herself again, she was\nin a lovely meadow where the sun was shining and many thousands of\nflowers were growing. Along this meadow she went, and at last came to a\nbaker's oven full of bread, and the bread cried out, \"Oh, take me out!\ntake me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long time!\" So she\nwent up to it, and took out all the loaves one after another with the\nbread-shovel. After that she went on till she came to a tree covered\nwith apples, which called out to her, \"Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples\nare all ripe!\" So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain, and\nwent on shaking till they were all down, and when she had gathered them\ninto a heap, she went on her way.\n\nAt last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman peeped;\nbut she had such large teeth that the girl was frightened, and was about\nto run away.\n\nBut the old woman called out to her, \"What are you afraid of, dear\nchild? Stay with me; if you will do all the work in the house properly,\nyou shall be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed\nwell, and to shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly--for then there\nis snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.\"\n\nAs the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage and\nagreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the\nsatisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously\nthat the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a pleasant\nlife with her; never an angry word; and boiled or roast meat every day.\n\nShe stayed some time with Mother Holle, and then she became sad. At\nfirst she did not know what was the matter with her, but found at length\nthat it was homesickness; although she was many times better off here\nthan at home, still she had a longing to be there. At last she said to\nthe old woman, \"I have a longing for home; and however well off I am\ndown here, I cannot stay any longer; I must go up again to my own\npeople.\" Mother Holle said, \"I am pleased that you long for your home\nagain, and as you have served me so truly, I myself will take you up\nagain.\" Thereupon she took her by the hand, and led her to a large door.\nThe door was opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the\ndoorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold remained\nsticking to her, so that she was completely covered with it.\n\n\"You shall have that because you are so industrious,\" said Mother Holle;\nand at the same time she gave her back the shuttle which she had let\nfall into the well. Thereupon the door closed, and the maiden found\nherself up above upon the earth, not far from her mother's house.\n\nAnd as she went into the yard the cock cried: \"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your\ngolden girl's come back to you!\"\n\nSo she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with gold,\nshe was well received, both by her and her sister.\n\nThe girl told all that had happened to her; and as soon as the mother\nheard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very anxious to obtain\nthe same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter. She had to seat\nherself by the well and spin; and in order that her shuttle might be\nstained with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn-bush and pricked her\nfinger. Then she threw her shuttle into the well, and jumped in after\nit.\n\nShe came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked along the\nvery same path. When she got to the oven the bread again cried, \"Oh,\ntake me out! take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long\ntime!\" But the lazy thing answered, \"As if I had any wish to make myself\ndirty!\" and on she went. Soon she came to the apple-tree, which cried,\n\"Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples are all ripe!\" But she answered, \"I\nlike that! one of you might fall on my head,\" and so went on.\n\nWhen she came to Mother Holle's house she was not afraid, for she had\nalready heard of her big teeth, and she hired herself to her\nimmediately.\n\nThe first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed Mother\nHolle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking of all the\ngold that she would give her. But on the second day she began to be\nlazy, and on the third day still more so, and then she would not get up\nin the morning at all. Neither did she make Mother Holle's bed as she\nought, and did not shake it so as to make the feathers fly up. Mother\nHolle was soon tired of this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy\ngirl was willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden rain\nwould come. Mother Holle led her, too, to the great door; but while she\nwas standing beneath it, instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch\nwas emptied over her. \"That is the reward of your service,\" said Mother\nHolle, and shut the door.\n\nSo the lazy girl went home; but she was quite covered with pitch, and\nthe cock by the well-side, as soon as he saw her, cried:\n\"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your pitchy girl's come back to you.\" But the pitch\nstuck fast to her, and could not be got off as long as she lived.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROG PRINCE\n\n\nIn the olden time, when wishing was having, there lived a King, whose\ndaughters were all beautiful; but the youngest was so exceedingly\nbeautiful that the Sun himself, although he saw her very, very often,\nwas delighted every time she came out into the sunshine.\n\nNear the castle of this King was a large and gloomy forest, where in the\nmidst stood an old lime-tree, beneath whose branches splashed a little\nfountain; so, whenever it was very hot, the King's youngest daughter ran\noff into this wood, and sat down by the side of the fountain; and, when\nshe felt dull, would often divert herself by throwing a golden ball up\ninto the air and catching it again. And this was her favorite amusement.\n\nNow, one day it happened that this golden ball, when the King's daughter\nthrew it into the air, did not fall down into her hand, but on to the\ngrass; and then it rolled right into the fountain. The King's daughter\nfollowed the ball with her eyes, but it disappeared beneath the water,\nwhich was so deep that she could not see to the bottom. Then she began\nto lament, and to cry more loudly and more loudly; and, as she cried, a\nvoice called out, \"Why weepest thou, O King's daughter? thy tears would\nmelt even a stone to pity.\" She looked around to the spot whence the\nvoice came, and saw a frog stretching his thick, ugly head out of the\nwater. \"Ah! you old water-paddler,\" said she, \"was it you that spoke? I\nam weeping for my golden ball which bounced away from me into the\nwater.\"\n\n\"Be quiet, and do not cry,\" replied the Frog; \"I can give thee good\nassistance. But what wilt thou give me if I succeed in fetching thy\nplaything up again?\"\n\n\"What would you like, dear Frog?\" said she. \"My dresses, my pearls and\njewels, or the golden crown which I wear?\"\n\nThe Frog replied, \"Dresses, or jewels, or golden crowns, are not for me;\nbut if thou wilt love me, and let me be thy companion and playmate, and\nsit at thy table, and eat from thy little golden plate, and drink out of\nthy cup, and sleep in thy little bed,--if thou wilt promise me all these\nthings, then I will dive down and fetch up thy golden ball.\"\n\n\"Oh, I will promise you all,\" said she, \"if you will only get me my\ngolden ball.\" But she thought to herself, \"What is the silly Frog\nchattering about? Let him stay in the water with his equals; he cannot\nenter into society.\" Then the Frog, as soon as he had received her\npromise, drew his head under the water and dived down. Presently he swam\nup again with the golden ball in his mouth, and threw it on to the\ngrass. The King's daughter was full of joy when she again saw her\nbeautiful plaything; and, taking it up, she ran off immediately. \"Stop!\nstop!\" cried the Frog; \"take me with thee. I cannot run as thou canst.\"\n\nBut this croaking was of no avail; although it was loud enough, the\nKing's daughter did not hear it, but, hastening home, soon forgot the\npoor Frog, who was obliged to leap back into the fountain.\n\nThe next day, when the King's daughter was sitting at table with her\nfather and all his courtiers, and was eating from her own little golden\nplate, something was heard coming up the marble stairs, splish-splash,\nsplish-splash; and when it arrived at the top, it knocked at the door,\nand a voice said--\n\n\"Open the door, thou youngest daughter of the King!\"\n\nSo she arose and went to see who it was that called to her; but when she\nopened the door and caught sight of the Frog, she shut it again very\nquickly and with great passion, and sat down at the table, looking\nexceedingly pale.\n\nBut the King perceived that her heart was beating violently, and asked\nher whether it were a giant who had come to fetch her away who stood at\nthe door. \"Oh, no!\" answered she; \"it is no giant, but an ugly Frog.\"\n\n\"What does the Frog want with you?\" said the King.\n\n\"Oh, dear father, yesterday when I was playing by the fountain, my\ngolden ball fell into the water, and this Frog fetched it up again\nbecause I cried so much: but first, I must tell you, he pressed me so\nmuch, that I promised him he should be my companion. I never thought\nthat he could come out of the water, but somehow he has managed to jump\nout, and now he wants to come in here.\"\n\nAt that moment there was another knock, and a voice said--\n\n  \"King's daughter, youngest,\n    Open the door.\n  Hast thou forgotten\n    Thy promises made\n  At the fountain so clear\n    'Neath the lime-tree's shade?\n  King's daughter, youngest.\n    Open the door.\"\n\nThen the King said, \"What you have promised, that you must perform; go\nand let him in.\" So the King's daughter went and opened the door, and\nthe Frog hopped in after her right up to her chair: and as soon as she\nwas seated, he said, \"Lift me up;\" but she hesitated so long that the\nKing had to order her to obey. And as soon as the Frog sat on the chair\nhe jumped on to the table and said, \"Now push thy plate near me, that we\nmay eat together.\" And she did so, but as every one noticed, very\nunwillingly. The Frog seemed to relish his dinner very much, but every\nbit that the King's daughter ate nearly choked her, till at last the\nFrog said, \"I have satisfied my hunger, and feel very tired; wilt thou\ncarry me upstairs now into thy chamber, and make thy bed ready that we\nmay sleep together?\" At this speech the King's daughter began to cry,\nfor she was afraid of the cold Frog, and dared not touch him; and\nbesides, he actually wanted to sleep in her own beautiful, clean bed!\n\nBut her tears only made the King very angry, and he said, \"He who helped\nyou in the time of your trouble must not now be despised!\" So she took\nthe Frog up with two fingers, and put him into a corner of her chamber.\nBut as she lay in her bed, he crept up to it, and said, \"I am so very\ntired that I shall sleep well; do take me up, or I will tell thy\nfather.\" This speech put the King's daughter into a terrible passion,\nand catching the Frog up, she threw him with all her strength against\nthe wall, saying \"Now will you be quiet, you ugly Frog!\"\n\nBut as he fell he was changed from a Frog into a handsome Prince with\nbeautiful eyes, who after a little while became her dear companion and\nbetrothed. One morning, Henry, trusted servant of the Prince, came for\nthem with a carriage. When his master was changed into a frog, trusty\nHenry had grieved so much that he had bound three iron bands around his\nheart, for fear it should break with grief and sorrow. The faithful\nHenry (who was also the trusty Henry) helped in the bride and\nbridegroom, and placed himself in the seat behind, full of joy at his\nmaster's release. They had not proceeded far when the Prince heard a\ncrack as if something had broken behind the carriage; so he put his head\nout of the window and asked trusty Henry what was broken, and faithful\nHenry answered, \"It was not the carriage, my master, but an iron band\nwhich I bound around my heart when it was in such grief because you were\nchanged into a frog.\"\n\nTwice afterwards on the journey there was the same noise, and each time\nthe Prince thought that it was some part of the carriage that had given\nway; but it was only the breaking of the bands which bound the heart of\nthe trusty Henry (who was also the faithful Henry), and who was\nthenceforward free and happy.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELS OF TOM THUMB\n\n\nThere lived a tailor who had only one son, and he was extremely small,\nnot any larger than your thumb, and so was called Tom Thumb.\n\nHowever, he was a courageous little fellow, and he told his father,\n\"Father, I am determined to go into the world to seek my fortune.\"\n\n\"Very well, my son,\" answered the old man, and taking a big darning\nneedle, he made a top to it of sealing wax, and gave it to Tom Thumb,\nsaying:\n\n\"There is a sword for you to use to defend yourself on your\njourneyings.\"\n\nThen the little fellow, desiring to dine once more with his parents,\npopped into the kitchen to find out what his mother was preparing for\nhis last dinner at home. All the dishes were ready to be taken in, and\nthey were standing upon the hearth.\n\n\"What is it you have for dinner, dear mother?\" he inquired.\n\n\"You can look for yourself,\" she replied.\n\nThen Tom sprang up on to the hob, and peeped into all the dishes, but\nover one he leant so far, that he was carried up by the steam through\nthe chimney, and then for some distance he floated on the smoke, but\nafter a while he fell upon the ground once more.\n\nNow, at last, Tom Thumb was really out in the wide world, and he went on\ncheerily, and after a time was engaged by a master tailor; but here the\nfood was not so good as his mother's, and it was not to his taste.\n\nSo he said, \"Mistress, if you will not give me better things to eat, I\nshall chalk upon your door, 'Too many potatoes, and not enough meat.\nGood-bye, potato-mill.'\"\n\n\"I should like to know what you want, you little grasshopper!\" cried the\nwoman very angrily, and she seized a shred of cloth to strike him;\nhowever, the tiny tailor popped under a thimble, and from it he peeped,\nputting out his tongue at the mistress.\n\nSo she took up the thimble, meaning to catch him, but Tom Thumb hid\nhimself amongst the shreds of cloth, and when she began to search\nthrough those, he slipped into a crack in the table, but put out his\nhead to laugh at her; so she tried again to hit him with the shred, but\ndid not succeed in doing so, for he slipped through the crack into the\ntable drawer.\n\nAt last, though, he was caught, and driven out of the house.\n\nSo the little fellow continued his travels, and presently entering a\nthick forest, he encountered a company of robbers who were plotting to\nsteal the king's treasure.\n\nAs soon as they saw the little tailor, they said to themselves, \"A\nlittle fellow like this could creep through a keyhole, and aid us\ngreatly.\" So one called out--\n\n\"Hullo, little man, will you come with us to the king's treasury?\nCertainly a Goliath like you could creep in with ease, and throw out the\ncoins to us.\"\n\nAfter considering awhile, Tom Thumb consented, and accompanied them to\nthe king's treasury.\n\nFrom top to bottom they inspected the door to discover a crack large\nenough for him to get through, and soon found one. He was for going in\ndirectly, but one of the sentinels happening to catch sight of him,\nexclaimed: \"Here is indeed an ugly spider; I will crush it with my\nfoot.\"\n\n\"Leave the poor creature alone,\" the other said; \"it has not done you\nany harm.\"\n\nSo Tom Thumb slipped through the crack, and made his way to the\ntreasury. Then he opened the window, and cast out the coins to the\nrobbers who were waiting below. While the little tailor was engaged in\nthis exciting employment, he heard the king coming to inspect his\ntreasure, so as quickly as possible he crept out of sight. The king\nnoticed that his treasure had been disarranged, and soon observed that\ncoins were missing: but he was utterly unable to think how they could\nhave been stolen, for the locks and bolts had not been tampered with,\nand everything was well fastened.\n\nOn going from the treasury, he warned the two sentinels, saying--\n\n\"Be on the watch, some one is after the money,\" and quite soon, on Tom\nThumb setting to work again, they heard very clearly the coins ringing,\nchink, chank, as they struck one against the other.\n\nAs quickly as possible they unfastened the building and went in, hoping\nto take the thief.\n\nBut Tom Thumb was too quick for them, he sprang into a corner, and\nhiding himself behind a coin, so that nothing of him was visible, he\nmade fun of the sentinels; crying \"I am here!\" Then when the men hurried\nto the spot where the voice came from, he was no longer there, but from\na different place cried out: \"Ha, Ha! here I am!\"\n\nSo the sentinels kept jumping about, but so cleverly did Tom move from\none spot to another, that they were obliged to run around the whole\ntime, hoping to find somebody, until at length, quite tired out, they\nwent off.\n\nThen Tomb Thumb went on with his work, and one after another he threw\nall the coins out of the window, but the very last he sounded and rang\nwith all his might and springing nimbly upon it, so flew through the\nwindow.\n\nThe robbers were loud in their praises.\n\n\"Indeed you are a brave fellow,\" they said, \"will you be our captain?\"\n\nTom Thumb, thanking them, declined this honor, for he was anxious to see\nmore of the world. Then the booty was apportioned out, but only a ducat\nwas given to the little tailor, for that was as much as he could carry.\n\nSo Tom girded on his sword again, and bidding farewell to the robbers,\ncontinued his travels.\n\nHe tried to get work under various masters, but they would have nothing\nto do with him, so after a while he took service at an inn. But the\nmaids there disliked him, for he was about everywhere, and saw all that\nwent on, without being seen himself; and he told their mistress of their\ndishonest ways, of what was taken off the plates, and from out the\ncellars.\n\nSo they threatened they would drown him, if they caught him, and\ndetermined to do him some harm. Then, one day, a maid mowing in the\ngarden saw Tom Thumb running in and out between the blades of grass, so\nshe cut the grass, in great haste, just where he chanced to be, tied it\nall in a bundle, and, without anyone knowing, threw it to the cows.\n\nThen one big black cow took up a mouthful of grass directly, with Tom in\nit, and swallowed it down; without doing him any damage, however.\n\nBut Tom did not approve of his position, for it was pitch dark down\nthere, with no light burning.\n\nWhen milking time came, he shouted--\n\n  \"Drip, drap, drop,\n  Will the milking soon stop?\"\n\nbut the sound of the milk trickling into the pail prevented his voice\nbeing heard.\n\nNot long afterwards the master came into the shed, and said:\n\n\"I will have that cow killed to-morrow.\"\n\nThis put Tom Thumb into a great fright, and he called out loudly:\n\n\"Please let me out, here I am inside.\"\n\nThis the master heard plainly enough, but could not make out where the\nvoice came from.\n\n\"Where are you?\" he inquired.\n\n\"In the black cow,\" was the reply.\n\nHowever, the master could not understand what was meant, and so went\naway.\n\nThe following morning the cow was killed, but fortunately in the cutting\nup the knife did not touch Tom Thumb, who was put aside with the meat\nthat was to be made into sausages.\n\nWhen the butcher began chopping, he cried as loudly as he could--\n\n\"Don't chop far, I am down beneath,\" but the chopper made so much noise,\nthat he attracted no attention.\n\nIt was indeed a terrible situation for poor Tom. But being in danger\nbrightens one's wits, and he sprang so nimbly, this way and that,\nkeeping clear of the chopper, that not a blow struck him, and he did not\nget even a scratch.\n\nHowever, he could not escape, there was no help for it, he was forced\ninto a skin with the sausage meat, so was compelled to make himself as\ncomfortable as might be. It was very close quarters, and besides that,\nthe sausages were suspended to smoke in the chimney, which was by no\nmeans entertaining, and the time passed slowly.\n\nWhen winter came, he was taken down for a guest's meal, and while the\nhostess was slicing the sausage he had to be on his guard, lest if he\nstretched out his head it might be cut off.\n\nWatching his opportunity, at last he was able to jump out of the\nsausage, and right glad was he to be once again in the company of his\nfellow-men.\n\nIt was not very long, however, that he stayed in this house, where he\nhad been met by so many misfortunes, and again he set forth on his\ntravels, rejoicing in his freedom, but this did not long continue.\n\nSwiftly running across the field came a fox, who, in an instant, had\nsnapped up poor little Tom.\n\n\"Oh, Mr. Fox,\" called out the little tailor, \"it is I who am in your\nthroat; please let me out.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" answered Reynard, \"you are not a bit better than nothing at\nall, you don't in the least satisfy me; make me a promise, that I shall\nhave the hens in your father's yard, and you shall regain your liberty.\"\n\n\"Willingly, you shall have all the hens; I make you a faithful promise,\"\nresponded Tom Thumb.\n\nSo the fox coughed and set him free, and himself carried Tom home.\n\nThen when the father had his dear little son once more he gave the fox\nall his hens, with the greatest of pleasure.\n\n\"Here, father, I am bringing you a golden coin from my travels,\" said\nthe little fellow, and he brought out the ducat the thieves had\napportioned to him.\n\n\"But how was it that the fox was given all the poor little hens?\"\n\n\"Foolish little one, don't you think your father would rather have you,\nthan all the hens he ever had in his yard?\"\n\n\n\n\nSNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED\n\n\nA poor widow once lived in a little cottage. In front of the cottage was\na garden, in which were growing two rose trees; one of these bore white\nroses, and the other red.\n\nShe had two children, who resembled the rose trees. One was called\nSnow-White, and the other Rose-Red; and they were as religious and\nloving, busy and untiring, as any two children ever were.\n\nSnow-White was more gentle, and quieter than her sister, who liked\nbetter skipping about the fields, seeking flowers, and catching summer\nbirds; while Snow-White stayed at home with her mother, either helping\nher in her work, or, when that was done, reading aloud.\n\nThe two children had the greatest affection the one for the other. They\nwere always seen hand in hand; and should Snow-White say to her sister,\n\"We will never separate,\" the other would reply, \"Not while we live,\"\nthe mother adding, \"That which one has, let her always share with the\nother.\"\n\nThey constantly ran together in the woods, collecting ripe berries; but\nnot a single animal would have injured them; quite the reverse, they all\nfelt the greatest esteem for the young creatures. The hare came to eat\nparsley from their hands, the deer grazed by their side, the stag\nbounded past them unheeding; the birds, likewise, did not stir from the\nbough, but sang in entire security. No mischance befell them; if\nbenighted in the wood, they lay down on the moss to repose and sleep\ntill the morning; and their mother was satisfied as to their safety, and\nfelt no fear about them.\n\nOnce, when they had spent the night in the wood, and the bright sunrise\nawoke them, they saw a beautiful child, in a snow-white robe, shining\nlike diamonds, sitting close to the spot where they had reposed. She\narose when they opened their eyes, and looked kindly at them; but said\nno word, and passed from their sight into the wood. When the children\nlooked around they saw they had been sleeping on the edge of a\nprecipice, and would surely have fallen over if they had gone forward\ntwo steps further in the darkness. Their mother said the beautiful child\nmust have been the angel who keeps watch over good children.\n\nSnow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother's cottage so clean that it\ngave pleasure only to look in. In summer-time Rose-Red attended to the\nhouse, and every morning, before her mother awoke, placed by her bed a\nbouquet which had in it a rose from each of the rose-trees. In\nwinter-time Snow-White set light to the fire, and put on the kettle,\nafter polishing it until it was like gold for brightness. In the\nevening, when snow was falling, her mother would bid her bolt the door,\nand then, sitting by the hearth, the good widow would read aloud to them\nfrom a big book while the little girls were spinning. Close by them lay\na lamb, and a white pigeon, with its head tucked under its wing, was on\na perch behind.\n\nOne evening, as they were all sitting cosily together like this, there\nwas a knock at the door, as if someone wished to come in.\n\n\"Make haste, Rose-Red!\" said her mother; \"open the door; it is surely\nsome traveller seeking shelter.\" Rose-Red accordingly pulled back the\nbolt, expecting to see some poor man. But it was nothing of the kind; it\nwas a bear, that thrust his big, black head in at the open door.\nRose-Red cried out and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered\nher wings, and Snow-White hid herself behind her mother's bed. The bear\nbegan speaking, and said, \"Do not be afraid; I will not do you any harm;\nI am half-frozen and would like to warm myself a little at your fire.\"\n\n\"Poor bear!\" the mother replied; \"come in and lie by the fire; only be\ncareful that your hair is not burnt.\" Then she called Snow-White and\nRose-Red, telling them that the bear was kind, and would not harm them.\nThey came, as she bade them, and presently the lamb and the dove drew\nnear also without fear.\n\n\"Children,\" begged the bear; \"knock some of the snow off my coat.\" So\nthey brought the broom and brushed the bear's coat quite clean.\n\nAfter that he stretched himself out in front of the fire, and pleased\nhimself by growling a little, only to show that he was happy and\ncomfortable. Before long they were all quite good friends, and the\nchildren began to play with their unlooked-for visitor, pulling his\nthick fur, or placing their feet on his back, or rolling him over and\nover. Then they took a slender hazel-twig, using it upon his thick coat,\nand they laughed when he growled. The bear permitted them to amuse\nthemselves in this way, only occasionally calling out, when it went a\nlittle too far, \"Children, spare me an inch of life.\"\n\nWhen it was night, and all were making ready to go to bed, the widow\ntold the bear, \"You may stay here and lie by the hearth, if you like, so\nthat you will be sheltered from the cold and from the bad weather.\"\n\nThe offer was accepted, but when morning came, as the day broke in the\neast, the two children let him out, and over the snow he went back into\nthe wood.\n\nAfter this, every evening at the same time the bear came, lay by the\nfire, and allowed the children to play with him; so they became quite\nfond of their curious playmate, and the door was not ever bolted in the\nevening until he had appeared.\n\nWhen spring-time came, and all around began to look green and bright,\none morning the bear said to Snow-White, \"Now I must leave you, and all\nthe summer long I shall not be able to come back.\"\n\n\"Where, then, are you going, dear Bear?\" asked Snow-White.\n\n\"I have to go to the woods to protect my treasure from the bad dwarfs.\nIn winter-time, when the earth is frozen hard, they must remain\nunderground, and cannot make their way through: but now that the\nsunshine has thawed the earth they can come to the surface, and whatever\ngets into their hands, or is brought to their caves, seldom, if ever,\nagain sees daylight.\"\n\nSnow-White was very sad when she said good-bye to the good-natured\nbeast, and unfastened the door, that he might go; but in going out he\nwas caught by a hook in the lintel, and a scrap of his fur being torn,\nSnow-White thought there was something shining like gold through the\nrent: but he went out so quickly that she could not feel certain what it\nwas, and soon he was hidden among the trees.\n\nOne day the mother sent her children into the wood to pick up sticks.\nThey found a big tree lying on the ground. It had been felled, and\ntowards the roots they noticed something skipping and springing, which\nthey could not make out, as it was sometimes hidden in the grasses. As\nthey came nearer they could see it was a dwarf, with a shrivelled-up\nface and a snow-white beard an ell long. The beard was fixed in a gash\nin the tree trunk, and the tiny fellow was hopping to and fro, like a\ndog at the end of a string, but he could not manage to free himself. He\nstared at the children with his red, fiery eyes, and called out, \"Why\nare you standing there? Can't you come and try to help me?\"\n\n\"What were you doing, little fellow?\" inquired Rose-Red.\n\n\"Stupid, inquisitive goose!\" replied the dwarf; \"I meant to split the\ntrunk, so that I could chop it up for kitchen sticks; big logs would\nburn up the small quantity of food we cook, for people like us do not\nconsume great heaps of food, as you heavy, greedy folk do. The bill-hook\nI had driven in, and soon I should have done what I required; but the\ntool suddenly sprang from the cleft, which so quickly shut up again that\nit caught my handsome white beard; and here I must stop, for I cannot\nset myself free. You stupid pale-faced creatures! You laugh, do you?\"\n\nIn spite of the dwarf's bad temper, the girls took all possible pains to\nrelease the little man, but without avail, the beard could not be moved,\nit was wedged too tightly.\n\n\"I will run and get someone else,\" said Rose-Red.\n\n\"Idiot!\" cried the dwarf. \"Who would go and get more people? Already\nthere are two too many. Can't you think of something better?\"\n\n\"Don't be so impatient,\" said Snow-White. \"I will try to think.\" She\nclapped her hands as if she had discovered a remedy, took out her\nscissors, and in a moment set the dwarf free by cutting off the end of\nhis beard.\n\nImmediately the dwarf felt that he was free he seized a sack full of\ngold that was hidden amongst the tree's roots, and, lifting it up,\ngrumbled out, \"Clumsy creatures, to cut off a bit of my beautiful beard,\nof which I am so proud! I leave the cuckoos to pay you for what you\ndid.\" Saying this, he swung the sack across his shoulder, and went off,\nwithout even casting a glance at the children.\n\nNot long afterwards the two sisters went to angle in the brook, meaning\nto catch fish for dinner. As they were drawing near the water they\nperceived something, looking like a large grasshopper, springing towards\nthe stream, as if it were going in. They hurried up to see what it might\nbe, and found that it was the dwarf. \"Where are you going?\" said\nRose-Red. \"Surely you will not jump into the water?\"\n\n\"I'm not such a simpleton as that!\" yelled the little man. \"Don't you\nsee that a wretch of a fish is pulling me in?\"\n\nThe dwarf had been sitting angling from the side of the stream when, by\nill-luck, the wind had entangled his beard in his line, and just\nafterwards a big fish taking the bait, the unamiable little fellow had\nnot sufficient strength to pull it out; so the fish had the advantage,\nand was dragging the dwarf after it. Certainly, he caught at every stalk\nand spray near him, but that did not assist him greatly; he was forced\nto follow all the twistings of the fish, and was perpetually in danger\nof being drawn into the brook.\n\nThe girls arrived just in time. They caught hold of him firmly and\nendeavored to untwist his beard from the line, but in vain; they were\ntoo tightly entangled. There was nothing left but again to make use of\nthe scissors; so they were taken out, and the tangled portion was cut\noff.\n\nWhen the dwarf noticed what they were about, he exclaimed in a great\nrage, \"Is this how you damage my beard? Not content with making it\nshorter before, you are now making it still smaller, and completely\nspoiling it. I shall not ever dare show my face to my friends. I wish\nyou had missed your way before you took this road.\" Then he fetched a\nsack of pearls that lay among the rushes, and, not saying another word,\nhobbled off and disappeared behind a large stone.\n\nSoon after this it chanced that the poor widow sent her children to the\ntown to purchase cotton, needles, ribbon, and tape. The way to the town\nran over a common, on which in every direction large masses of rocks\nwere scattered about. The children's attention was soon attracted to a\nbig bird that hovered in the air. They remarked that, after circling\nslowly for a time, and gradually getting nearer to the ground, it all of\na sudden pounced down amongst a mass of rock. Instantly a heartrending\ncry reached their ears, and, running quickly to the place, they saw,\nwith horror, that the eagle had seized their former acquaintance, the\ndwarf, and was just about to carry him off. The kind children did not\nhesitate for an instant. They took a firm hold of the little man, and\nstrove so stoutly with the eagle for possession of his contemplated\nprey, that, after much rough treatment on both sides, the dwarf was left\nin the hands of his brave little friends, and the eagle took to flight.\n\nAs soon as the little man had in some measure recovered from his alarm,\nhis small squeaky, cracked voice was heard saying, \"Couldn't you have\nheld me more gently? See my little coat; you have rent and damaged it in\na fine manner, you clumsy, officious things!\" Then he picked up a sack\nof jewels, and slipped out of sight behind a piece of rock.\n\nThe maidens by this time were quite used to his ungrateful, ungracious\nways; so they took no notice of it, but went on their way, made their\npurchases, and then were ready to return to their happy home.\n\nOn their way back, suddenly, once more they ran across their dwarf\nfriend. Upon a clear space he had turned out his sack of jewels,  so\nthat he could count and admire them, for he had not imagined that\nanybody would at so late an hour be coming across the common.\n\nThe setting sun was shining upon the brilliant stones, and their\nchanging hues and sparkling rays caused the children to pause to admire\nthem also.\n\n\"What are you gazing at?\"  cried the dwarf,  at the same time becoming\nred with rage;  \"and what are you standing there for,  making ugly\nfaces?\"  It is probable that he might have proceeded in the same\ncomplimentary manner,  but suddenly a great growl was heard near by\nthem,  and a big black bear joined the party.  Up jumped the dwarf in\nextremest terror,  but could not get to his hiding-place,  the bear was\ntoo close to him;  so he cried out in very evident anguish--\n\n\"Dear Mr. Bear,  forgive me,  I pray!  I will render to you all my\ntreasure.  Just see those precious stones lying there! Grant me my life!\nWhat would you do with such an insignificant little fellow? You would\nnot notice me between your teeth.  See,  though,  those two children,\nthey would be delicate morsels,  and are as plump as partridges;  I beg\nof you to take them,  good Mr. Bear,  and let me go!\"\n\nBut the bear would not be moved by his speeches. He gave the\nill-disposed creature a blow with his paw,  and he lay lifeless on the\nground.\n\nMeanwhile the maidens were running away,  making off for home as well as\nthey could;  but all of a sudden they were stopped by a well-known voice\nthat called out,  \"Snow-White, Rose-Red,  stay!  Do not fear.  I will\naccompany you.\"\n\nThe bear quickly came towards them, but, as he reached their side,\nsuddenly the bear-skin slipped to the ground,  and there before them was\nstanding a handsome man,  completely garmented in gold, who  said--\n\n\"I am a king's son,  who was enchanted by the wicked dwarf lying over\nthere.  He stole my treasure,  and compelled me to roam the woods\ntransformed into a big bear until his death should set me free.\nTherefore he has only received a well-deserved punishment.\"\n\nSome time afterwards Snow-White married the Prince,  and Rose-Red his\nbrother.\n\nThey shared between them the enormous treasure which the dwarf had\ncollected in his cave.\n\nThe old mother spent many happy years with her children.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a man, whose wife had died; and a woman,\nalso, who had lost her husband: and this man and this woman had each a\ndaughter. These two maidens were friendly with each other, and used to\nwalk together, and one day they came by the widow's house. Then the\nwidow said to the man's daughter, \"Do you hear, tell your father I wish\nto marry him, and you shall every morning wash in milk and drink wine,\nbut my daughter shall wash in water and drink water.\" So the girl went\nhome and told her father what the woman had said, and he replied, \"What\nshall I do? Marriage is a comfort, but it is also a torment.\" At last,\nas he could come to no conclusion, he drew off his boot and said: \"Take\nthis boot, which has a hole in the sole, and go with it out of doors and\nhang it on the great nail and then pour water into it. If it holds the\nwater, I will again take a wife; but if it runs through, I will not have\nher.\" The girl did as he bid her, but the water drew the hole together\nand the boot became full to overflowing. So she told her father how it\nhad happened, and he, getting up, saw it was quite true; and going to\nthe widow he settled the matter, and the wedding was celebrated.\n\nThe next morning, when the two girls arose, milk to wash in and wine to\ndrink were set for the man's daughter, but only water, both for washing\nand drinking, for the woman's daughter. The second morning, water for\nwashing and drinking stood before both the man's daughter and the\nwoman's; and on the third morning, water to wash in and water to drink\nwere set before the man's daughter, and milk to wash in and wine to\ndrink before the woman's daughter, and so it continued.\n\nSoon the woman conceived a deadly hatred for her step-daughter, and knew\nnot how to behave badly enough to her from day to day. She was envious,\ntoo, because her step-daughter was beautiful and lovely, and her own\ndaughter was ugly and hateful.\n\nOnce, in the winter-time, when the river was frozen as hard as a stone,\nand hill and valley were covered with snow, the woman made a cloak of\npaper, and called the maiden to her and said, \"Put on this cloak, and go\naway into the wood to fetch me a little basketful of strawberries, for I\nhave a wish for some.\"\n\n\"Mercy on us!\" said the maiden, \"in winter there are no strawberries\ngrowing; the ground is frozen, and the snow, too, has covered\neverything. And why must I go in that paper cloak? It is so cold out of\ndoors that it freezes one's breath even, and if the wind does not blow\noff this cloak, the thorns will tear it from my body.\"\n\n\"Will you dare to contradict me?\" said the step-mother. \"Make haste off,\nand let me not see you again until you have found me a basket of\nstrawberries.\" Then she gave her a small piece of dry bread, saying, \"On\nthat you must subsist the whole day.\" But she thought--out of doors she\nwill be frozen and starved, so that my eyes will never see her again!\n\nSo the girl did as she was told, and put on the paper cloak, and went\naway with the basket. Far and near there was nothing but snow, and not a\ngreen blade was to be seen. When she came to the forest she discovered a\nlittle cottage, out of which three little Dwarfs were peeping. The girl\nwished them good morning, and knocked gently at the door. They called\nher in, and entering the room, she sat down on a bench by the fire to\nwarm herself, and eat her breakfast. The Dwarfs called out, \"Give us\nsome of it!\" \"Willingly,\" she replied, and, dividing her bread in two,\nshe gave them half. They asked, \"What do you here in the forest, in the\nwinter-time, in this thin cloak?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" she answered, \"I must, seek a basketful of strawberries, and I\ndare not return home until I can take them with me.\" When she had eaten\nher bread, they gave her a broom, saying, \"Sweep away the snow with this\nfrom the back door.\" But when she was gone out of doors the three Dwarfs\nsaid one to another, \"What shall we give her, because she is so gentle\nand good, and has shared her bread with us?\" Then said the first, \"I\ngrant to her that she shall become more beautiful every day.\" The second\nsaid, \"I grant that a piece of gold shall fall out of her mouth for\nevery word she speaks.\" The third said, \"I grant that a King shall come\nand make her his bride.\"\n\nMeanwhile, the girl had done as the Dwarf had bidden her, and had swept\naway the snow from behind the house. And what do you think she found\nthere? Actually, ripe strawberries! which came quite red and sweet up\nunder the snow. So filling her basket in great glee, she thanked the\nlittle men and gave them each her hand, and then ran home to take her\nstep-mother what she wished for. As she went in and said \"Good evening,\"\na piece of gold fell from her mouth. Thereupon she related what had\nhappened to her in the forest; but at every word she spoke a piece of\ngold fell, so that the whole floor was covered.\n\n\"Just see her arrogance,\" said the step-sister, \"to throw away money in\nthat way!\" but in her heart she was jealous, and wished to go into the\nforest, too, to seek strawberries. Her mother said, \"No, my dear\ndaughter; it is too cold, you will be frozen!\" but as her girl let her\nhave no peace, she at last consented, and made her a beautiful fur cloak\nto put on; she also gave her buttered bread and cooked meat to eat on\nher way.\n\nThe girl went into the forest and came straight to the little cottage.\nThe three Dwarfs were peeping out again, but she did not greet them;\nand, stumbling on without looking at them, or speaking, she entered the\nroom, and, seating herself by the fire, began to eat the bread and\nbutter and meat. \"Give us some of that,\" exclaimed the Dwarfs; but she\nanswered, \"I have not got enough for myself, so how can I give any\naway?\" When she had finished they said, \"You have a broom there, go and\nsweep the back door clean.\" \"Oh, sweep it yourself,\" she replied; \"I am\nnot your servant.\" When she saw that they would not give her anything\nshe went out at the door, and the three Dwarfs said to each other, \"What\nshall we give her? She is so ill-behaved, and has such a bad and envious\ndisposition, that nobody can wish well to her.\" The first said, \"I grant\nthat she becomes more ugly every day.\" The second said, \"I grant that at\nevery word she speaks a toad shall spring out of her mouth.\" The third\nsaid, \"I grant that she shall die a miserable death.\" Meanwhile the girl\nhad been looking for strawberries out of doors, but as she could find\nnone she went home very peevish. When she opened her mouth to tell her\nmother what had happened to her in the forest, a toad jumped out of her\nmouth at each word, so that every one fled away from her in horror.\n\nThe step-mother was now still more vexed, and was always thinking how\nshe could do the most harm to her husband's daughter, who every day\nbecame more beautiful. At last she took a kettle, set it on the fire,\nand boiled a net therein. When it was sodden she hung it on the shoulder\nof the poor girl, and gave her an axe, that she might go upon the frozen\npond and cut a hole in the ice to drag the net. She obeyed, and went\naway and cut an ice-hole; and while she was cutting, an elegant carriage\ncame by, in which the King sat. The carriage stopped, and the King\nasked, \"My child, who are you? and what do you here?\" \"I am a poor girl,\nand am dragging a net,\" said she. Then the King pitied her, and saw how\nbeautiful she was, and said, \"Will you go with me?\" \"Yes, indeed, with\nall my heart,\" she replied, for she was glad to get out of the sight of\nher mother and sister.\n\nSo she was handed into the carriage, and driven away with the King; and\nas soon as they arrived at his castle the wedding was celebrated with\ngreat splendor, as the Dwarfs had granted to the maiden. After a year\nthe young Queen bore a son; and when the step-mother heard of her great\ngood fortune, she came to the castle with her daughter, and behaved as\nif she had come on a visit. But one day when the King had gone out, and\nno one was present, this bad woman seized the Queen by the head, and her\ndaughter caught hold of her feet, and raising her out of bed, they threw\nher out of the window into the river which ran past. Then, laying her\nugly daughter in the bed, the old woman covered her up, even over her\nhead; and when the King came back he wished to speak to his wife, but\nthe old woman exclaimed, \"Softly! softly! do not go near her; she is\nlying in a beautiful sleep, and must be kept quiet to-day.\" The King,\nnot thinking of an evil design, came again the next morning the first\nthing; and when he spoke to his wife, and she answered, a toad sprang\nout of her mouth at every word, as a piece of gold had done before. So\nhe asked what had happened, and the old woman said, \"That is produced by\nher weakness, she will soon lose it again.\"\n\nBut in the night the kitchen-boy saw a Duck swimming through the brook,\nand the Duck asked:\n\n  \"King, King, what are you doing?\n  Are you sleeping, or are you waking?\"\n\nAnd as he gave no answer, the Duck said:\n\n  \"What are my guests a-doing?\"\n\nThen the boy answered:\n\n  \"They all sleep sound.\"\n\nAnd she asked him:\n\n  \"How fares my child?\"\n\nAnd he replied:\n\n  \"In his cradle he sleeps.\"\n\nThen she came up in the form of the Queen to the cradle, and gave the\nchild drink, shook up his bed, and covered him up, and then swam away\nagain as a duck through the brook. The second night she came again; and\non the third she said to the kitchen-boy, \"Go and tell the King to take\nhis sword, and swing it thrice over me, on the threshold.\" Then the boy\nran and told the King, who came with his sword, and swung it thrice over\nthe Duck; and at the third time his bride stood before him, bright,\nliving, and healthful, as she had been before.\n\nNow the King was in great happiness, but he hid the Queen in a chamber\nuntil the Sunday when the child was to be christened; and when all was\nfinished he asked, \"What ought to be done to one who takes another out\nof a bed and throws her into the river?\" \"Nothing could be more proper,\"\nsaid the old woman, \"than to put such a one into a cask, stuck round\nwith nails, and to roll it down the hill into the water.\" Then the King\nsaid, \"You have spoken your own sentence\"; and ordering a cask to be\nfetched, he caused the old woman and her daughter to be put into it, and\nthe bottom nailed up. Then the cask was rolled down the hill until it\nfell into the water.\n\n\n\n\nRUMPELSTILTSKIN\n\n\nThere was once a poor Miller who had a beautiful daughter, and one day,\nhaving to go to speak with the King, he said, in order to make himself\nappear of consequence, that he had a daughter who could spin straw into\ngold. The King was very fond of gold, and thought to himself, \"That is\nan art which would please me very well\"; and so he said to the Miller,\n\"If your daughter is so very clever, bring her to the castle in the\nmorning, and I will put her to the proof.\"\n\nAs soon as she arrived the King led her into a chamber which was full of\nstraw; and, giving her a wheel and a reel, he said, \"Now set yourself to\nwork, and if you have not spun this straw into gold by an early hour\nto-morrow, you must die.\" With these words he shut the room door, and\nleft the maiden alone.\n\nThere she sat for a long time, thinking how to save her life; for she\nunderstood nothing of the art whereby straw might be spun into gold; and\nher perplexity increased more and more, till at last she began to weep.\nAll at once the door opened, and in stepped a little Man, who said,\n\"Good evening, fair maiden; why do you weep so sore?\" \"Ah,\" she replied,\n\"I must spin this straw into gold, and I am sure I do not know how.\"\n\nThe little Man asked, \"What will you give me if I spin it for you?\"\n\n\"My necklace,\" said the maiden.\n\nThe Dwarf took it, placed himself in front of the wheel, and whirr,\nwhirr, whirr, three times round, and the bobbin was full. Then he set up\nanother, and whir, whir, whir, thrice round again, and a second bobbin\nwas full; and so he went all night long, until all the straw was spun,\nand the bobbins were full of gold. At sunrise the King came, very much\nastonished to see the gold; the sight of which gladdened him, but did\nnot make his heart less covetous. He caused the maiden to be led into\nanother room, still larger, full of straw; and then he bade her spin it\ninto gold during the night if she valued her life. The maiden was again\nquite at a loss what to do; but while she cried the door opened\nsuddenly, as before, and the Dwarf appeared and asked her what she would\ngive him in return for his assistance. \"The ring off my finger,\" she\nreplied. The little Man took the ring and began to spin at once, and by\nmorning all the straw was changed to glistening gold. The King was\nrejoiced above measure at the sight of this, but still he was not\nsatisfied, but, leading the maiden into another still larger room, full\nof straw as the others, he said, \"This you must spin during the night;\nbut if you accomplish it you shall be my bride.\" \"For,\" thought he to\nhimself, \"a richer wife thou canst not have in all the world.\"\n\nWhen the maiden was left alone, the Dwarf again appeared and asked, for\nthe third time, \"What will you give me to do this for you?\"\n\n\"I have nothing left that I can give you,\" replied the maiden.\n\n\"Then promise me your first-born child if you become Queen,\" said he.\n\nThe Miller's daughter thought, \"Who can tell if that will ever happen?\"\nand, ignorant how else to help herself out of her trouble, she promised\nthe Dwarf what he desired; and he immediately set about and finished the\nspinning. When morning came, and the King found all he had wished for\ndone, he celebrated his wedding, and the Miller's fair daughter became\nQueen.\n\nThe gay times she had at the King's Court caused her to forget that she\nhad made a very foolish promise.\n\nAbout a year after the marriage, when she had ceased to think about the\nlittle Dwarf, she brought a fine child into the world; and, suddenly,\nsoon after its birth, the very man appeared and demanded what she had\npromised. The frightened Queen offered him all the riches of the kingdom\nif he would leave her her child; but the Dwarf answered, \"No; something\nhuman is dearer to me than all the wealth of the world.\"\n\nThe Queen began to weep and groan so much that the Dwarf pitied her, and\nsaid, \"I will leave you three days to consider; if you in that time\ndiscover my name you shall keep your child.\"\n\nAll night long the Queen racked her brains for all the names she could\nthink of, and sent a messenger through the country to collect far and\nwide any new names. The following morning came the Dwarf, and she began\nwith \"Caspar,\" \"Melchior,\" \"Balthassar,\" and all the odd names she knew;\nbut at each the little Man exclaimed, \"That is not my name.\" The second\nday the Queen inquired of all her people for uncommon and curious names,\nand called the Dwarf \"Ribs-of-Beef,\" \"Sheep-shank,\" \"Whalebone,\" but at\neach he said, \"This is not my name.\" The third day the messenger came\nback and said, \"I have not found a single name; but as I came to a high\nmountain near the edge of a forest, where foxes and hares say good night\nto each other, I saw there a little house, and before the door a fire\nwas burning, and round this fire a very curious little Man was dancing\non one leg, and shouting:\n\n  \"'To-day I stew, and then I'll bake,\n  To-morrow I shall the Queen's child take;\n  Ah! how famous it is that nobody knows\n  That my name is Rumpelstiltskin.'\"\n\nWhen the Queen heard this she was very glad, for now she knew the name;\nand soon after came the Dwarf, and asked, \"Now, my lady Queen, what is\nmy name?\"\n\nFirst she said, \"Are you called Conrade?\" \"No.\"\n\n\"Are you called Hal?\" \"No.\"\n\n\"Are you called Rumpelstiltskin?\"\n\n\"A witch has told you! a witch has told you!\" shrieked the little Man,\nand stamped his right foot so hard in the ground with rage that he could\nnot draw it out again. Then he took hold of his left leg with both his\nhands, and pulled away so hard that his right came off in the struggle,\nand he hopped away howling terribly. And from that day to this the Queen\nhas heard no more of her troublesome visitor.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE ONE-EYE, TWO-EYES AND THREE-EYES\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a Woman, who had three daughters, the eldest\nof whom was named One-Eye, because she had but a single eye, and that\nplaced in the middle of her forehead; the second was called Two-Eyes,\nbecause she was like other mortals; and the third, Three-Eyes, because\nshe had three eyes, and one of them in the centre of her forehead, like\nher eldest sister. But, because her second sister had nothing out of the\ncommon in her appearance, she was looked down upon by her sisters, and\ndespised by her mother. \"You are no better than common folk,\" they would\nsay to her; \"you do not belong to us\"; and then they would push her\nabout, give her coarse clothing, and nothing to eat but their leavings,\nbesides numerous other insults as occasion offered.\n\nOnce it happened that Two-Eyes had to go into the forest to tend the\ngoat; and she went very hungry, because her sisters had given her very\nlittle to eat that morning. She sat down upon a hillock, and cried so\nmuch that her tears flowed almost like rivers out of her eyes! By and by\nshe looked up and saw a Woman standing by, who asked, \"Why are you\nweeping, Two-Eyes?\" \"Because I have two eyes like ordinary people,\"\nreplied the maiden, \"and therefore my mother and sisters dislike me,\npush me into corners, throw me their old clothes, and give me nothing to\neat but what they leave. To-day they have given me so little that I am\nstill hungry.\" \"Dry your eyes, then, now,\" said the wise Woman; \"I will\ntell you something which shall prevent you from being hungry again. You\nmust say to your goat:\n\n  \"'Little kid, milk\n  Table, appear!'\n\n\"and immediately a nicely filled table will stand before you, with\ndelicate food upon it, of which you can eat as much as you please. And\nwhen you are satisfied, and have done with the table, you must say:\n\n  'Little kid, milk\n  Table, depart!'\n\n\"and it will disappear directly.\"\n\nWith these words the wise Woman went away, and little Two-Eyes thought\nto herself she would try at once if what the Woman said were true, for\nshe felt very hungry indeed.\n\n  \"Little kid, milk\n  Table, appear!\"\n\nsaid the maiden, and immediately a table covered with a white cloth\nstood before her, with a knife and fork, and silver spoon; and the most\ndelicate dishes were ranged in order upon it, and everything as warm as\nif they had been just taken away from the fire. Two-Eyes said a short\ngrace, and then began to eat; and when she had finished she pronounced\nthe words which the wise Woman had told her:\n\n  \"Little kid, milk\n  Table, depart!\"\n\nand directly the table and all that was on it quickly disappeared. \"This\nis capital housekeeping,\" said the maiden, in high glee; and at evening\nshe went home with her goat, and found an earthen dish which her sisters\nhad left her filled with their leavings. She did not touch it; and the\nnext morning she went off again without taking the meagre breakfast\nwhich was left out for her. The first and second time she did this the\nsisters thought nothing of it; but when she did the same the third\nmorning their attention was roused, and they said, \"All is not right\nwith Two-Eyes, for she has left her meals twice, and has touched nothing\nof what was left for her; she must have found some other way of living.\"\nSo they determined that One-Eye should go with the maiden when she drove\nthe goat to the meadow and pay attention to what passed, and observe\nwhether any one brought her to eat or to drink.\n\nWhen Two-Eyes, therefore, was about to set off, One-Eye told her she was\ngoing with her to see whether she took proper care of the goat and fed\nher sufficiently. Two-Eyes, however, divined her sister's object, and\ndrove the goat where the grass was finest, and then said, \"Come,\nOne-Eye, let us sit down, and I will sing to you.\" So One-Eye sat down,\nfor she was quite tired with her unusual walk and the heat of the sun.\n\n  \"Are you awake or asleep, One-Eye?\n  Are you awake or asleep?\"\n\nsang Two-Eyes, until her sister really went to sleep. As soon as she was\nquite sound, the maiden had her table out, and ate and drank all she\nneeded; and by the time One-Eye woke again the table had disappeared,\nand the maiden said to her sister, \"Come, we will go home now; while you\nhave been sleeping the goat might have run about all over the world.\" So\nthey went home, and after Two-Eyes had left her meal untouched, the\nmother inquired of One-Eye what she had seen, and she was obliged to\nconfess that she had been asleep.\n\nThe following morning the mother told Three-Eyes that she must go out\nand watch Two-Eyes, and see who brought her food, for it was certain\nthat some one must. So Three-Eyes told her sister that she was going to\naccompany her that morning to see if she took care of the goat and fed\nher well; but Two-Eyes saw through her design, and drove the goat again\nto the best feeding-place. Then she asked her sister to sit down and she\nwould sing to her, and Three-Eyes did so, for she was very tired with\nher long walk in the heat of the sun. Then Two-Eyes began to sing as\nbefore:\n\n  \"Are you awake, Three-Eyes?\"\n\nbut, instead of continuing as she should have done,\n\n  \"Are you asleep, Three-Eyes?\"\n\nshe said by mistake,\n\n  \"Are you asleep, Two-Eyes?\"\n\nand so went on singing:\n\n  \"Are you awake, Three-Eyes?\"\n  \"Are you asleep, Two-Eyes?\"\n\nBy and by Three-Eyes closed two of her eyes, and went to sleep with\nthem; but the third eye, which was not spoken to, kept open. Three-Eyes,\nhowever, cunningly shut it too, and feigned to be asleep, while she was\nreally watching; and soon Two-Eyes, thinking all safe, repeated the\nwords:\n\n  \"Little kid, milk\n  Table, appear!\"\n\nand as soon as she was satisfied she said the old words:\n\n  \"Little kid, milk\n  Table, depart!\"\n\nThree-Eyes watched all these proceedings; and presently Two-Eyes came\nand awoke her, saying, \"Ah, sister! you are a good watcher, but come,\nlet us go home now.\" When they reached home Two-Eyes again ate nothing;\nand her sister told her mother she knew now why the haughty hussy would\nnot eat their victuals. \"When she is out in the meadow,\" said her\nsister, \"she says:\n\n  \"'Little kid, milk\n  Table, appear!'\n\n\"and, directly, a table comes up laid out with meat and wine, and\neverything of the best, much better than we have; and as soon as she has\nhad enough she says:\n\n  \"'Little kid, milk\n  Table, depart!'\n\n\"and all goes away directly, as I clearly saw. Certainly she did put to\nsleep two of my eyes, but the one in the middle of my forehead luckily\nkept awake!\"\n\n\"Will you have better things than we?\" cried the envious mother; \"then\nyou shall lose the chance\"; and so saying, she took a carving-knife and\nkilled the goat dead.\n\nAs soon as Two-Eyes saw this she went out, very sorrowful, to the old\nspot and sat down where she had sat before to weep bitterly. All at once\nthe wise Woman stood in front of her again, and asked why she was\ncrying. \"Must I not cry,\" replied she, \"when the goat which used to\nfurnish me every day with a dinner, according to your promise, has been\nkilled by my mother, and I am again suffering hunger and thirst?\"\n\"Two-Eyes,\" said the wise Woman, \"I will give you a piece of advice. Beg\nyour sisters to give you the entrails of the goat, and bury them in the\nearth before the house door, and your fortune will be made.\" So saying,\nshe disappeared, and Two-Eyes went home, and said to her sisters, \"Dear\nsisters, do give me some part of the slain kid; I desire nothing\nelse--let me have the entrails.\" The sisters laughed and readily gave\nthem to her; and she buried them secretly before the threshold of the\ndoor, as the wise Woman had bidden her.\n\nThe following morning they found in front of the house a wonderfully\nbeautiful tree, with leaves of silver and fruits of gold hanging from\nthe boughs, than which nothing more splendid could be seen in the world.\nThe two elder sisters were quite ignorant how the tree came where it\nstood; but Two-Eyes perceived that it was produced by the goat's\nentrails, for it stood on the exact spot where she had buried them. As\nsoon as the mother saw it she told One-Eye to break off some of the\nfruit. One-Eye went up to the tree, and pulled a bough toward her, to\npluck off the fruit; but the bough flew back again directly out of her\nhands; and so it did every time she took hold of it, till she was forced\nto give up, for she could not obtain a single golden apple in spite of\nall her endeavors. Then the mother said to Three-Eyes, \"Do you climb up,\nfor you can see better with your three eyes than your sister with her\none.\" Three-Eyes, however, was not more fortunate than her sister, for\nthe golden apples flew back as soon as she touched them. At last the\nmother got so impatient that she climbed the tree herself; but she met\nwith no more success than either of her daughters, and grasped the air\nonly when she thought she had the fruit. Two-Eyes now thought she would\ntry, and said to her sisters, \"Let me get up, perhaps I may be\nsuccessful.\" \"Oh, you are very likely indeed,\" said they, \"with your two\neyes: you will see well, no doubt!\" So Two-Eyes climbed the tree, and\ndirectly she touched the boughs the golden apples fell into her hands,\nso that she plucked them as fast as she could, and filled her apron\nbefore she went down. Her mother took them of her, but returned her no\nthanks; and the two sisters, instead of treating Two-Eyes better than\nthey had done, were only the more envious of her, because she alone\ncould gather the fruit--in fact, they treated her worse.\n\nOne morning, not long after the springing up of the apple-tree, the\nthree sisters were all standing together beneath it, when in the\ndistance a young Knight was seen riding toward them. \"Make haste,\nTwo-Eyes!\" exclaimed the two elder sisters; \"make haste, and creep out\nof our way, that we may not be ashamed of you\"; and so saying, they put\nover her in great haste an empty cask which stood near, and which\ncovered the golden apples as well, which she had just been plucking.\nSoon the Knight came up to the tree, and the sisters saw he was a very\nhandsome man, for he stopped to admire the fine silver leaves and golden\nfruit, and presently asked to whom the tree belonged, for he should like\nto have a branch off it. One-Eye and Three-Eyes replied that the tree\nbelonged to them; and they tried to pluck a branch off for the Knight.\nThey had their trouble for nothing, however, for the boughs and fruit\nflew back as soon as they touched them. \"This is very wonderful.\" cried\nthe Knight, \"that this tree should belong to you, and yet you cannot\npluck the fruit!\" The sisters, however, maintained that it was theirs;\nbut while they spoke Two-Eyes rolled a golden apple from underneath the\ncask, so that it travelled to the feet of the Knight, for she was angry,\nbecause her sisters had not spoken the truth. When he saw the apple he\nwas astonished, and asked where it came from; and One-Eye and Three-Eyes\nsaid they had another sister, but they dared not let her be seen,\nbecause she had only two eyes, like common folk! The Knight, however,\nwould see her, and called, \"Two-Eyes, come here!\" and soon she made her\nappearance from under the cask. The Knight was bewildered at her great\nbeauty, and said, \"You, Two-Eyes, can surely break off a bough of this\ntree for me?\" \"Yes,\" she replied, \"that I will, for it is my property\";\nand climbing up, she easily broke off a branch with silver leaves and\ngolden fruit, which she handed to the Knight. \"What can I give you in\nreturn, Two-Eyes?\" asked the Knight. \"Alas! if you will take me with you\nI shall be happy, for now I suffer hunger and thirst, and am in trouble\nand grief from early morning to late evening; take me, and save me!\"\nThereupon the Knight raised Two-Eyes upon his saddle, and took her home\nto his father's castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes, and all she\nwished for to eat or to drink; and afterward, because his love for her\nhad become so great, he married her, and a very happy wedding they had.\n\nHer two sisters, meanwhile, were very jealous when Two-Eyes was carried\noff by the Knight; but they consoled themselves by saying, \"The\nwonderful tree remains still for us; and even if we cannot get at the\nfruit, everybody that passes will stop to look at it, and then come and\npraise it to us. Who knows where our wheat may bloom?\" The morning after\nthis speech, however, the tree disappeared, and with it all their hopes;\nbut when Two-Eyes that same day looked out of her chamber window,\nbehold, the tree stood before it, and there remained!\n\nFor a long time after this occurrence Two-Eyes lived in the enjoyment of\nthe greatest happiness; and one morning two poor women came to the\npalace and begged an alms. Two-Eyes, after looking narrowly at their\nfaces, recognized her two sisters, One-Eye and Three-Eyes, who had come\nto such great poverty that they were forced to wander about, begging\ntheir bread from day to day. Two-Eyes, however, bade them welcome,\ninvited them in, and took care of them, till they both repented of their\nevil which they had done to their sister in the days of their childhood.","title":"Grimm's Fairy Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":50644}