Add a library brainstorm

BRAINSTORM.txt

@@ -56,3 +56,46 @@
   i nvr thought about the parser in dbzfe, bc its a simple mud
   and i guess i nvr really thought about it much in realms of despair, smaug
   may also be way simpler than fluffos or whatever
+
+- Syntax: power <up | down | stop | number>
+    (typing just power shows this. thats how all commands work that have args,
+    shows the syntax. its help <thing> that shows more (descriptoin and etc)
+
+<100%> / <93/207>
+power up
+
+You begin to power up!
+
+<100%> / <93/207>
+
+Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
+
+<92.59%> / <107/207>
+
+Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
+
+<85.19%> / <121/207>
+
+Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
+You feel more confident using power.
+
+<77.78%> / <135/207>
+power stop
+
+You stop altering your powerlevel.
+
+--------------
+
+Grimm's Library
+
+stories all as txt files, scoured across library. you can look for things
+yourself, but there is no search command
+
+to find something by keywords, you can ask a librarian and they will help you
+determine which story you're looking for
+
+if you try to steal a book, take it out of the library, you will go to some
+comedic notion of jail/hell/idk. perhaps on display dressed as a clown in the
+town square
+
+- what are titles of the oldest forms of librarians, monks? maybe monks are walking around all over

content/library/grimm/001_the_frog_king_or_iron_henry.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,128 @@
+The Frog-King, or Iron Henry
+
+In old times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose
+daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that
+the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it
+shone in her face. Close by the King’s castle lay a great dark forest,
+and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when the day
+was very warm, the King’s child went out into the forest and sat down
+by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was dull she took a
+golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was
+her favorite plaything.
+
+Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball did
+not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it, but on
+to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The King’s
+daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the well was
+deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. On this she began to
+cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted. And as
+she thus lamented some one said to her, “What ails thee, King’s
+daughter? Thou weepest so that even a stone would show pity.” She
+looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a frog
+stretching forth its thick, ugly head from the water. “Ah! old
+water-splasher, is it thou?” said she; “I am weeping for my golden
+ball, which has fallen into the well.”
+
+“Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered the frog, “I can help thee, but
+what wilt thou give me if I bring thy plaything up again?” “Whatever
+thou wilt have, dear frog,” said she—“My clothes, my pearls and jewels,
+and even the golden crown which I am wearing.”
+
+The frog answered, “I do not care for thy clothes, thy pearls and
+jewels, or thy golden crown, but if thou wilt love me and let me be thy
+companion and play-fellow, and sit by thee at thy little table, and eat
+off thy little golden plate, and drink out of thy little cup, and sleep
+in thy little bed—if thou wilt promise me this I will go down below,
+and bring thee thy golden ball up again.”
+
+“Oh yes,” said she, “I promise thee all thou wishest, if thou wilt but
+bring me my ball back again.” She, however, thought, “How the silly
+frog does talk! He lives in the water with the other frogs, and croaks,
+and can be no companion to any human being!”
+
+But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the
+water and sank down, and in a short while came swimmming up again with
+the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s daughter
+was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and picked it up,
+and ran away with it. “Wait, wait,” said the frog. “Take me with thee.
+I can’t run as thou canst.” But what did it avail him to scream his
+croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could? She did not listen to
+it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was forced to go
+back into his well again.
+
+The next day when she had seated herself at table with the King and all
+the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate, something
+came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble staircase,
+and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and cried,
+“Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me.” She ran to see who
+was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog in front
+of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat down to dinner
+again, and was quite frightened. The King saw plainly that her heart
+was beating violently, and said, “My child, what art thou so afraid of?
+Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to carry thee away?” “Ah,
+no,” replied she. “It is no giant but a disgusting frog.”
+
+“What does a frog want with thee?” “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was
+in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into
+the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for
+me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my
+companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his
+water! And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.”
+
+In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried,
+
+“Princess! youngest princess!
+Open the door for me!
+Dost thou not know what thou saidst to me
+Yesterday by the cool waters of the fountain?
+Princess, youngest princess!
+Open the door for me!”
+
+
+Then said the King, “That which thou hast promised must thou perform.
+Go and let him in.” She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped
+in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and
+cried, “Lift me up beside thee.” She delayed, until at last the King
+commanded her to do it. When the frog was once on the chair he wanted
+to be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, “Now, push
+thy little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together.” She did
+this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog
+enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked her. At
+length he said, “I have eaten and am satisfied; now I am tired, carry
+me into thy little room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we
+will both lie down and go to sleep.”
+
+The King’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog
+which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her
+pretty, clean little bed. But the King grew angry and said, “He who
+helped thee when thou wert in trouble ought not afterwards to be
+despised by thee.” So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
+carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. But when she was in bed
+he crept to her and said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as thou,
+lift me up or I will tell thy father.” Then she was terribly angry, and
+took him up and threw him with all her might against the wall. “Now,
+thou wilt be quiet, odious frog,” said she. But when he fell down he
+was no frog but a King’s son with beautiful kind eyes. He by her
+father’s will was now her dear companion and husband. Then he told her
+how he had been bewitched by a wicked witch, and how no one could have
+delivered him from the well but herself, and that to-morrow they would
+go together into his kingdom. Then they went to sleep, and next morning
+when the sun awoke them, a carriage came driving up with eight white
+horses, which had white ostrich feathers on their heads, and were
+harnessed with golden chains, and behind stood the young King’s servant
+Faithful Henry. Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was
+changed into a frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid
+round his heart, lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The
+carriage was to conduct the young King into his Kingdom. Faithful Henry
+helped them both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of
+joy because of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the
+way the King’s son heard a cracking behind him as if something had
+broken. So he turned round and cried, “Henry, the carriage is
+breaking.”
+
+“No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart, which
+was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and imprisoned in
+the well.” Again and once again while they were on their way something
+cracked, and each time the King’s son thought the carriage was
+breaking; but it was only the bands which were springing from the heart
+of faithful Henry because his master was set free and was happy.

content/library/grimm/002_cat_and_mouse_in_partnership.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,80 @@
+Cat and Mouse in Partnership
+
+A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so
+much to her about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that
+at length the mouse agreed that they should live and keep house
+together. “But we must make a provision for winter, or else we shall
+suffer from hunger,” said the cat, “and you, little mouse, cannot
+venture everywhere, or you will be caught in a trap some day.” The good
+advice was followed, and a pot of fat was bought, but they did not know
+where to put it. At length, after much consideration, the cat said, “I
+know no place where it will be better stored up than in the church, for
+no one dares take anything away from there. We will set it beneath the
+altar, and not touch it until we are really in need of it.” So the pot
+was placed in safety, but it was not long before the cat had a great
+yearning for it, and said to the mouse, “I want to tell you something,
+little mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and
+has asked me to be godmother; he is white with brown spots, and I am to
+hold him over the font at the christening. Let me go out to-day, and
+you look after the house by yourself.” “Yes, yes,” answered the mouse,
+“by all means go, and if you get anything very good, think of me, I
+should like a drop of sweet red christening wine too.” All this,
+however, was untrue; the cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to
+be godmother. She went straight to the church, stole to the pot of fat,
+began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off. Then she took a
+walk upon the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then
+stretched herself in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought
+of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she return home.
+“Well, here you are again,” said the mouse, “no doubt you have had a
+merry day.” “All went off well,” answered the cat. “What name did they
+give the child?” “Top off!” said the cat quite coolly. “Top off!” cried
+the mouse, “that is a very odd and uncommon name, is it a usual one in
+your family?” “What does it signify,” said the cat, “it is no worse
+than Crumb-stealer, as your god-children are called.”
+
+Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing. She said to
+the mouse, “You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house for
+a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a
+white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.” The good mouse consented,
+but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and devoured
+half the pot of fat. “Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to
+oneself,” said she, and was quite satisfied with her day’s work. When
+she went home the mouse inquired, “And what was this child christened?”
+“Half-done,” answered the cat. “Half-done! What are you saying? I never
+heard the name in my life, I’ll wager anything it is not in the
+calendar!”
+
+The cat’s mouth soon began to water for some more licking. “All good
+things go in threes,” said she, “I am asked to stand godmother again.
+The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that
+exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only
+happens once every few years, you will let me go, won’t you?” “Top-off!
+Half-done!” answered the mouse, “they are such odd names, they make me
+very thoughtful.” “You sit at home,” said the cat, “in your dark-grey
+fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that’s because you
+do not go out in the daytime.” During the cat’s absence the mouse
+cleaned the house, and put it in order but the greedy cat entirely
+emptied the pot of fat. “When everything is eaten up one has some
+peace,” said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return
+home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been given to
+the third child. “It will not please you more than the others,” said
+the cat. “He is called All-gone.” “All-gone,” cried the mouse, “that is
+the most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print.
+All-gone; what can that mean?” and she shook her head, curled herself
+up, and lay down to sleep.
+
+From this time forth no one invited the cat to be god-mother, but when
+the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found
+outside, the mouse thought of their provision, and said, “Come cat, we
+will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves—we
+shall enjoy that.” “Yes,” answered the cat, “you will enjoy it as much
+as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the
+window.” They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of
+fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. “Alas!” said
+the mouse, “now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You are
+a true friend! You have devoured all when you were standing godmother.
+First top off, then half done, then—.” “Will you hold your tongue,”
+cried the cat, “one word more and I will eat you too.” “All gone” was
+already on the poor mouse’s lips; scarcely had she spoken it before the
+cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. Verily, that is
+the way of the world.

content/library/grimm/003_our_ladys_child.txt

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+Our Lady’s Child
+
+Hard by a great forest dwelt a wood-cutter with his wife, who had an
+only child, a little girl three years old. They were so poor, however,
+that they no longer had daily bread, and did not know how to get food
+for her. One morning the wood-cutter went out sorrowfully to his work
+in the forest, and while he was cutting wood, suddenly there stood
+before him a tall and beautiful woman with a crown of shining stars on
+her head, who said to him, “I am the Virgin Mary, mother of the child
+Jesus. Thou art poor and needy, bring thy child to me, I will take her
+with me and be her mother, and care for her.” The wood-cutter obeyed,
+brought his child, and gave her to the Virgin Mary, who took her up to
+heaven with her. There the child fared well, ate sugar-cakes, and drank
+sweet milk, and her clothes were of gold, and the little angels played
+with her. And when she was fourteen years of age, the Virgin Mary
+called her one day and said, “Dear child, I am about to make a long
+journey, so take into thy keeping the keys of the thirteen doors of
+heaven. Twelve of these thou mayest open, and behold the glory which is
+within them, but the thirteenth, to which this little key belongs, is
+forbidden thee. Beware of opening it, or thou wilt bring misery on
+thyself.” The girl promised to be obedient, and when the Virgin Mary
+was gone, she began to examine the dwellings of the kingdom of heaven.
+Each day she opened one of them, until she had made the round of the
+twelve. In each of them sat one of the Apostles in the midst of a great
+light, and she rejoiced in all the magnificence and splendour, and the
+little angels who always accompanied her rejoiced with her. Then the
+forbidden door alone remained, and she felt a great desire to know what
+could be hidden behind it, and said to the angels, “I will not quite
+open it, and I will not go inside it, but I will unlock it so that we
+can just see a little through the opening.” “Oh no,” said the little
+angels, “that would be a sin. The Virgin Mary has forbidden it, and it
+might easily cause thy unhappiness.” Then she was silent, but the
+desire in her heart was not stilled, but gnawed there and tormented
+her, and let her have no rest. And once when the angels had all gone
+out, she thought, “Now I am quite alone, and I could peep in. If I do
+it, no one will ever know.” She sought out the key, and when she had
+got it in her hand, she put it in the lock, and when she had put it in,
+she turned it round as well. Then the door sprang open, and she saw
+there the Trinity sitting in fire and splendour. She stayed there
+awhile, and looked at everything in amazement; then she touched the
+light a little with her finger, and her finger became quite golden.
+Immediately a great fear fell on her. She shut the door violently, and
+ran away. Her terror too would not quit her, let her do what she might,
+and her heart beat continually and would not be still; the gold too
+stayed on her finger, and would not go away, let her rub it and wash it
+never so much.
+
+It was not long before the Virgin Mary came back from her journey. She
+called the girl before her, and asked to have the keys of heaven back.
+When the maiden gave her the bunch, the Virgin looked into her eyes and
+said, “Hast thou not opened the thirteenth door also?” “No,” she
+replied. Then she laid her hand on the girl’s heart, and felt how it
+beat and beat, and saw right well that she had disobeyed her order and
+had opened the door. Then she said once again, “Art thou certain that
+thou hast not done it?” “Yes,” said the girl, for the second time. Then
+she perceived the finger which had become golden from touching the fire
+of heaven, and saw well that the child had sinned, and said for the
+third time “Hast thou not done it?” “No,” said the girl for the third
+time. Then said the Virgin Mary, “Thou hast not obeyed me, and besides
+that thou hast lied, thou art no longer worthy to be in heaven.”
+
+Then the girl fell into a deep sleep, and when she awoke she lay on the
+earth below, and in the midst of a wilderness. She wanted to cry out,
+but she could bring forth no sound. She sprang up and wanted to run
+away, but whithersoever she turned herself, she was continually held
+back by thick hedges of thorns through which she could not break. In
+the desert, in which she was imprisoned, there stood an old hollow
+tree, and this had to be her dwelling-place. Into this she crept when
+night came, and here she slept. Here, too, she found a shelter from
+storm and rain, but it was a miserable life, and bitterly did she weep
+when she remembered how happy she had been in heaven, and how the
+angels had played with her. Roots and wild berries were her only food,
+and for these she sought as far as she could go. In the autumn she
+picked up the fallen nuts and leaves, and carried them into the hole.
+The nuts were her food in winter, and when snow and ice came, she crept
+amongst the leaves like a poor little animal that she might not freeze.
+Before long her clothes were all torn, and one bit of them after
+another fell off her. As soon, however, as the sun shone warm again,
+she went out and sat in front of the tree, and her long hair covered
+her on all sides like a mantle. Thus she sat year after year, and felt
+the pain and the misery of the world. One day, when the trees were once
+more clothed in fresh green, the King of the country was hunting in the
+forest, and followed a roe, and as it had fled into the thicket which
+shut in this part of the forest, he got off his horse, tore the bushes
+asunder, and cut himself a path with his sword. When he had at last
+forced his way through, he saw a wonderfully beautiful maiden sitting
+under the tree; and she sat there and was entirely covered with her
+golden hair down to her very feet. He stood still and looked at her
+full of surprise, then he spoke to her and said, “Who art thou? Why art
+thou sitting here in the wilderness?” But she gave no answer, for she
+could not open her mouth. The King continued, “Wilt thou go with me to
+my castle?” Then she just nodded her head a little. The King took her
+in his arms, carried her to his horse, and rode home with her, and when
+he reached the royal castle he caused her to be dressed in beautiful
+garments, and gave her all things in abundance. Although she could not
+speak, she was still so beautiful and charming that he began to love
+her with all his heart, and it was not long before he married her.
+
+After a year or so had passed, the Queen brought a son into the world.
+Thereupon the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night when she lay in
+her bed alone, and said, “If thou wilt tell the truth and confess that
+thou didst unlock the forbidden door, I will open thy mouth and give
+thee back thy speech, but if thou perseverest in thy sin, and deniest
+obstinately, I will take thy new-born child away with me.” Then the
+queen was permitted to answer, but she remained hard, and said, “No, I
+did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin Mary took the new-born
+child from her arms, and vanished with it. Next morning when the child
+was not to be found, it was whispered among the people that the Queen
+was a man-eater, and had killed her own child. She heard all this and
+could say nothing to the contrary, but the King would not believe it,
+for he loved her so much.
+
+When a year had gone by the Queen again bore a son, and in the night
+the Virgin Mary again came to her, and said, “If thou wilt confess that
+thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give thee thy child back and
+untie thy tongue; but if you continuest in sin and deniest it, I will
+take away with me this new child also.” Then the Queen again said, “No,
+I did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin took the child out
+of her arms, and away with her to heaven. Next morning, when this child
+also had disappeared, the people declared quite loudly that the Queen
+had devoured it, and the King’s councillors demanded that she should be
+brought to justice. The King, however, loved her so dearly that he
+would not believe it, and commanded the councillors under pain of death
+not to say any more about it.
+
+The following year the Queen gave birth to a beautiful little daughter,
+and for the third time the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night and
+said, “Follow me.” She took the Queen by the hand and led her to
+heaven, and showed her there her two eldest children, who smiled at
+her, and were playing with the ball of the world. When the Queen
+rejoiced thereat, the Virgin Mary said, “Is thy heart not yet softened?
+If thou wilt own that thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give
+thee back thy two little sons.” But for the third time the Queen
+answered, “No, I did not open the forbidden door.” Then the Virgin let
+her sink down to earth once more, and took from her likewise her third
+child.
+
+Next morning, when the loss was reported abroad, all the people cried
+loudly, “The Queen is a man-eater. She must be judged,” and the King
+was no longer able to restrain his councillors. Thereupon a trial was
+held, and as she could not answer, and defend herself, she was
+condemned to be burnt alive. The wood was got together, and when she
+was fast bound to the stake, and the fire began to burn round about
+her, the hard ice of pride melted, her heart was moved by repentance,
+and she thought, “If I could but confess before my death that I opened
+the door.” Then her voice came back to her, and she cried out loudly,
+“Yes, Mary, I did it;” and straight-way rain fell from the sky and
+extinguished the flames of fire, and a light broke forth above her, and
+the Virgin Mary descended with the two little sons by her side, and the
+new-born daughter in her arms. She spoke kindly to her, and said, “He
+who repents his sin and acknowledges it, is forgiven.” Then she gave
+her the three children, untied her tongue, and granted her happiness
+for her whole life.

content/library/grimm/004_the_story_of_the_youth_who_went_forth_to_learn_what_fear_was.txt

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+The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was
+
+A certain father had two sons, the elder of whom was smart and
+sensible, and could do everything, but the younger was stupid and could
+neither learn nor understand anything, and when people saw him they
+said, “There’s a fellow who will give his father some trouble!” When
+anything had to be done, it was always the elder who was forced to do
+it; but if his father bade him fetch anything when it was late, or in
+the night-time, and the way led through the churchyard, or any other
+dismal place, he answered “Oh, no, father, I’ll not go there, it makes
+me shudder!” for he was afraid. Or when stories were told by the fire
+at night which made the flesh creep, the listeners sometimes said “Oh,
+it makes us shudder!” The younger sat in a corner and listened with the
+rest of them, and could not imagine what they could mean. “They are
+always saying ‘it makes me shudder, it makes me shudder!’ It does not
+make me shudder,” thought he. “That, too, must be an art of which I
+understand nothing.”
+
+Now it came to pass that his father said to him one day “Hearken to me,
+thou fellow in the corner there, thou art growing tall and strong, and
+thou too must learn something by which thou canst earn thy living. Look
+how thy brother works, but thou dost not even earn thy salt.” “Well,
+father,” he replied, “I am quite willing to learn something—indeed, if
+it could but be managed, I should like to learn how to shudder. I don’t
+understand that at all yet.” The elder brother smiled when he heard
+that, and thought to himself, “Good God, what a blockhead that brother
+of mine is! He will never be good for anything as long as he lives. He
+who wants to be a sickle must bend himself betimes.”
+
+The father sighed, and answered him “thou shalt soon learn what it is
+to shudder, but thou wilt not earn thy bread by that.”
+
+Soon after this the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the father
+bewailed his trouble, and told him how his younger son was so backward
+in every respect that he knew nothing and learnt nothing. “Just think,”
+said he, “when I asked him how he was going to earn his bread, he
+actually wanted to learn to shudder.” “If that be all,” replied the
+sexton, “he can learn that with me. Send him to me, and I will soon
+polish him.” The father was glad to do it, for he thought, “It will
+train the boy a little.” The sexton therefore took him into his house,
+and he had to ring the bell. After a day or two, the sexton awoke him
+at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into the church tower and
+ring the bell. “Thou shalt soon learn what shuddering is,” thought he,
+and secretly went there before him; and when the boy was at the top of
+the tower and turned round, and was just going to take hold of the bell
+rope, he saw a white figure standing on the stairs opposite the
+sounding hole. “Who is there?” cried he, but the figure made no reply,
+and did not move or stir. “Give an answer,” cried the boy, “or take thy
+self off, thou hast no business here at night.”
+
+The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that the boy might
+think he was a ghost. The boy cried a second time, “What do you want
+here?—speak if thou art an honest fellow, or I will throw thee down the
+steps!” The sexton thought, “he can’t intend to be as bad as his
+words,” uttered no sound and stood as if he were made of stone. Then
+the boy called to him for the third time, and as that was also to no
+purpose, he ran against him and pushed the ghost down the stairs, so
+that it fell down ten steps and remained lying there in a corner.
+Thereupon he rang the bell, went home, and without saying a word went
+to bed, and fell asleep. The sexton’s wife waited a long time for her
+husband, but he did not come back. At length she became uneasy, and
+wakened the boy, and asked, “Dost thou not know where my husband is? He
+climbed up the tower before thou didst.” “No, I don’t know,” replied
+the boy, “but some one was standing by the sounding hole on the other
+side of the steps, and as he would neither give an answer nor go away,
+I took him for a scoundrel, and threw him downstairs, just go there and
+you will see if it was he. I should be sorry if it were.” The woman ran
+away and found her husband, who was lying moaning in the corner, and
+had broken his leg.
+
+She carried him down, and then with loud screams she hastened to the
+boy’s father. “Your boy,” cried she, “has been the cause of a great
+misfortune! He has thrown my husband down the steps and made him break
+his leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow away from our house.” The
+father was terrified, and ran thither and scolded the boy. “What wicked
+tricks are these?” said he, “the devil must have put this into thy
+head.” “Father,” he replied, “do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He
+was standing there by night like one who is intending to do some evil.
+I did not know who it was, and I entreated him three times either to
+speak or to go away.” “Ah,” said the father, “I have nothing but
+unhappiness with you. Go out of my sight. I will see thee no more.”
+
+“Yes, father, right willingly, wait only until it is day. Then will I
+go forth and learn how to shudder, and then I shall, at any rate,
+understand one art which will support me.” “Learn what thou wilt,”
+spake the father, “it is all the same to me. Here are fifty thalers for
+thee. Take these and go into the wide world, and tell no one from
+whence thou comest, and who is thy father, for I have reason to be
+ashamed of thee.” “Yes, father, it shall be as you will. If you desire
+nothing more than that, I can easily keep it in mind.”
+
+When day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty thalers into his
+pocket, and went forth on the great highway, and continually said to
+himself, “If I could but shudder! If I could but shudder!” Then a man
+approached who heard this conversation which the youth was holding with
+himself, and when they had walked a little farther to where they could
+see the gallows, the man said to him, “Look, there is the tree where
+seven men have married the ropemaker’s daughter, and are now learning
+how to fly. Sit down below it, and wait till night comes, and you will
+soon learn how to shudder.” “If that is all that is wanted,” answered
+the youth, “it is easily done; but if I learn how to shudder as fast as
+that, thou shalt have my fifty thalers. Just come back to me early in
+the morning.” Then the youth went to the gallows, sat down below it,
+and waited till evening came. And as he was cold, he lighted himself a
+fire, but at midnight the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his
+fire, he could not get warm. And as the wind knocked the hanged men
+against each other, and they moved backwards and forwards, he thought
+to himself “Thou shiverest below by the fire, but how those up above
+must freeze and suffer!” And as he felt pity for them, he raised the
+ladder, and climbed up, unbound one of them after the other, and
+brought down all seven. Then he stirred the fire, blew it, and set them
+all round it to warm themselves. But they sat there and did not stir,
+and the fire caught their clothes. So he said, “Take care, or I will
+hang you up again.” The dead men, however, did not hear, but were quite
+silent, and let their rags go on burning. On this he grew angry, and
+said, “If you will not take care, I cannot help you, I will not be
+burnt with you,” and he hung them up again each in his turn. Then he
+sat down by his fire and fell asleep, and the next morning the man came
+to him and wanted to have the fifty thalers, and said, “Well, dost thou
+know how to shudder?” “No,” answered he, “how was I to get to know?
+Those fellows up there did not open their mouths, and were so stupid
+that they let the few old rags which they had on their bodies get
+burnt.” Then the man saw that he would not get the fifty thalers that
+day, and went away saying, “One of this kind has never come my way
+before.”
+
+The youth likewise went his way, and once more began to mutter to
+himself, “Ah, if I could but shudder! Ah, if I could but shudder!” A
+waggoner who was striding behind him heard that and asked, “Who are
+you?” “I don’t know,” answered the youth. Then the waggoner asked,
+“From whence comest thou?” “I know not.” “Who is thy father?” “That I
+may not tell thee.” “What is it that thou art always muttering between
+thy teeth.” “Ah,” replied the youth, “I do so wish I could shudder, but
+no one can teach me how to do it.” “Give up thy foolish chatter,” said
+the waggoner. “Come, go with me, I will see about a place for thee.”
+The youth went with the waggoner, and in the evening they arrived at an
+inn where they wished to pass the night. Then at the entrance of the
+room the youth again said quite loudly, “If I could but shudder! If I
+could but shudder!” The host who heard this, laughed and said, “If that
+is your desire, there ought to be a good opportunity for you here.”
+“Ah, be silent,” said the hostess, “so many inquisitive persons have
+already lost their lives, it would be a pity and a shame if such
+beautiful eyes as these should never see the daylight again.”
+
+But the youth said, “However difficult it may be, I will learn it and
+for this purpose indeed have I journeyed forth.” He let the host have
+no rest, until the latter told him, that not far from thence stood a
+haunted castle where any one could very easily learn what shuddering
+was, if he would but watch in it for three nights. The King had
+promised that he who would venture should have his daughter to wife,
+and she was the most beautiful maiden the sun shone on. Great treasures
+likewise lay in the castle, which were guarded by evil spirits, and
+these treasures would then be freed, and would make a poor man rich
+enough. Already many men had gone into the castle, but as yet none had
+come out again. Then the youth went next morning to the King and said
+if he were allowed he would watch three nights in the haunted castle.
+The King looked at him, and as the youth pleased him, he said, “Thou
+mayest ask for three things to take into the castle with thee, but they
+must be things without life.” Then he answered, “Then I ask for a fire,
+a turning lathe, and a cutting-board with the knife.” The King had
+these things carried into the castle for him during the day. When night
+was drawing near, the youth went up and made himself a bright fire in
+one of the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife beside it, and
+seated himself by the turning-lathe. “Ah, if I could but shudder!” said
+he, “but I shall not learn it here either.” Towards midnight he was
+about to poke his fire, and as he was blowing it, something cried
+suddenly from one corner, “Au, miau! how cold we are!” “You
+simpletons!” cried he, “what are you crying about? If you are cold,
+come and take a seat by the fire and warm yourselves.” And when he had
+said that, two great black cats came with one tremendous leap and sat
+down on each side of him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery
+eyes. After a short time, when they had warmed themselves, they said,
+“Comrade, shall we have a game at cards?” “Why not?” he replied, “but
+just show me your paws.” Then they stretched out their claws. “Oh,”
+said he, “what long nails you have! Wait, I must first cut them for
+you.” Thereupon he seized them by the throats, put them on the
+cutting-board and screwed their feet fast. “I have looked at your
+fingers,” said he, “and my fancy for card-playing has gone,” and he
+struck them dead and threw them out into the water. But when he had
+made away with these two, and was about to sit down again by his fire,
+out from every hole and corner came black cats and black dogs with
+red-hot chains, and more and more of them came until he could no longer
+stir, and they yelled horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to
+pieces, and tried to put it out. He watched them for a while quietly,
+but at last when they were going too far, he seized his cutting-knife,
+and cried, “Away with ye, vermin,” and began to cut them down. Part of
+them ran away, the others he killed, and threw out into the fish-pond.
+When he came back he fanned the embers of his fire again and warmed
+himself. And as he thus sat, his eyes would keep open no longer, and he
+felt a desire to sleep. Then he looked round and saw a great bed in the
+corner. “That is the very thing for me,” said he, and got into it. When
+he was just going to shut his eyes, however, the bed began to move of
+its own accord, and went over the whole of the castle. “That’s right,”
+said he, “but go faster.” Then the bed rolled on as if six horses were
+harnessed to it, up and down, over thresholds and steps, but suddenly
+hop, hop, it turned over upside down, and lay on him like a mountain.
+But he threw quilts and pillows up in the air, got out and said, “Now
+any one who likes, may drive,” and lay down by his fire, and slept till
+it was day. In the morning the King came, and when he saw him lying
+there on the ground, he thought the evil spirits had killed him and he
+was dead. Then said he, “After all it is a pity,—he is a handsome man.”
+The youth heard it, got up, and said, “It has not come to that yet.”
+Then the King was astonished, but very glad, and asked how he had
+fared. “Very well indeed,” answered he; “one night is past, the two
+others will get over likewise.” Then he went to the innkeeper, who
+opened his eyes very wide, and said, “I never expected to see thee
+alive again! Hast thou learnt how to shudder yet?” “No,” said he, “it
+is all in vain. If some one would but tell me.”
+
+The second night he again went up into the old castle, sat down by the
+fire, and once more began his old song, “If I could but shudder.” When
+midnight came, an uproar and noise of tumbling about was heard; at
+first it was low, but it grew louder and louder. Then it was quiet for
+awhile, and at length with a loud scream, half a man came down the
+chimney and fell before him. “Hollo!” cried he, “another half belongs
+to this. This is too little!” Then the uproar began again, there was a
+roaring and howling, and the other half fell down likewise. “Wait,”
+said he, “I will just blow up the fire a little for thee.” When he had
+done that and looked round again, the two pieces were joined together,
+and a frightful man was sitting in his place. “That is no part of our
+bargain,” said the youth, “the bench is mine.” The man wanted to push
+him away; the youth, however, would not allow that, but thrust him off
+with all his strength, and seated himself again in his own place. Then
+still more men fell down, one after the other; they brought nine dead
+men’s legs and two skulls, and set them up and played at nine-pins with
+them. The youth also wanted to play and said “Hark you, can I join
+you?” “Yes, if thou hast any money.” “Money enough,” replied he, “but
+your balls are not quite round.” Then he took the skulls and put them
+in the lathe and turned them till they were round. “There, now, they
+will roll better!” said he. “Hurrah! Now it goes merrily!” He played
+with them and lost some of his money, but when it struck twelve,
+everything vanished from his sight. He lay down and quietly fell
+asleep. Next morning the King came to inquire after him. “How has it
+fared with you this time?” asked he. “I have been playing at
+nine-pins,” he answered, “and have lost a couple of farthings.” “Hast
+thou not shuddered then?” “Eh, what?” said he, “I have made merry. If I
+did but know what it was to shudder!”
+
+The third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly,
+“If I could but shudder.” When it grew late, six tall men came in and
+brought a coffin. Then said he, “Ha, ha, that is certainly my little
+cousin, who died only a few days ago,” and he beckoned with his finger,
+and cried “Come, little cousin, come.” They placed the coffin on the
+ground, but he went to it and took the lid off, and a dead man lay
+therein. He felt his face, but it was cold as ice. “Stop,” said he, “I
+will warm thee a little,” and went to the fire and warmed his hand and
+laid it on the dead man’s face, but he remained cold. Then he took him
+out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his
+arms that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good, he
+thought to himself “When two people lie in bed together, they warm each
+other,” and carried him to the bed, covered him over and lay down by
+him. After a short time the dead man became warm too, and began to
+move. Then said the youth, “See, little cousin, have I not warmed
+thee?” The dead man, however, got up and cried, “Now will I strangle
+thee.”
+
+“What!” said he, “is that the way thou thankest me? Thou shalt at once
+go into thy coffin again,” and he took him up, threw him into it, and
+shut the lid. Then came the six men and carried him away again. “I
+cannot manage to shudder,” said he. “I shall never learn it here as
+long as I live.”
+
+Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and looked terrible.
+He was old, however, and had a long white beard. “Thou wretch,” cried
+he, “thou shalt soon learn what it is to shudder, for thou shalt die.”
+“Not so fast,” replied the youth. “If I am to die, I shall have to have
+a say in it.” “I will soon seize thee,” said the fiend. “Softly,
+softly, do not talk so big. I am as strong as thou art, and perhaps
+even stronger.” “We shall see,” said the old man. “If thou art
+stronger, I will let thee go—come, we will try.” Then he led him by
+dark passages to a smith’s forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck
+an anvil into the ground. “I can do better than that,” said the youth,
+and went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near and wanted
+to look on, and his white beard hung down. Then the youth seized the
+axe, split the anvil with one blow, and struck the old man’s beard in
+with it. “Now I have thee,” said the youth. “Now it is thou who will
+have to die.” Then he seized an iron bar and beat the old man till he
+moaned and entreated him to stop, and he would give him great riches.
+The youth drew out the axe and let him go. The old man led him back
+into the castle, and in a cellar showed him three chests full of gold.
+“Of these,” said he, “one part is for the poor, the other for the king,
+the third is thine.” In the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit
+disappeared; the youth, therefore, was left in darkness. “I shall still
+be able to find my way out,” said he, and felt about, found the way
+into the room, and slept there by his fire. Next morning the King came
+and said “Now thou must have learnt what shuddering is?” “No,” he
+answered; “what can it be? My dead cousin was here, and a bearded man
+came and showed me a great deal of money down below, but no one told me
+what it was to shudder.” “Then,” said the King, “thou hast delivered
+the castle, and shalt marry my daughter.” “That is all very well,” said
+he, “but still I do not know what it is to shudder.”
+
+Then the gold was brought up and the wedding celebrated; but howsoever
+much the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still
+said always “If I could but shudder—if I could but shudder.” And at
+last she was angry at this. Her waiting-maid said, “I will find a cure
+for him; he shall soon learn what it is to shudder.” She went out to
+the stream which flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful
+of gudgeons brought to her. At night when the young king was sleeping,
+his wife was to draw the clothes off him and empty the bucketful of
+cold water with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes
+would sprawl about him. When this was done, he woke up and cried “Oh,
+what makes me shudder so?—what makes me shudder so, dear wife? Ah! now
+I know what it is to shudder!”

content/library/grimm/005_the_wolf_and_the_seven_little_kids.txt

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+The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids
+
+There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
+loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she
+wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all
+seven to her and said, “Dear children, I have to go into the forest, be
+on your guard against the wolf; if he come in, he will devour you
+all—skin, hair, and all. The wretch often disguises himself, but you
+will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.” The kids
+said, “Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves; you may go
+away without any anxiety.” Then the old one bleated, and went on her
+way with an easy mind.
+
+It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and called,
+“Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought
+something back with her for each of you.” But the little kids knew that
+it was the wolf, by the rough voice; “We will not open the door,” cried
+they, “thou art not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but thy
+voice is rough; thou art the wolf!” Then the wolf went away to a
+shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made
+his voice soft with it. The he came back, knocked at the door of the
+house, and cried, “Open the door, dear children, your mother is here
+and has brought something back with her for each of you.” But the wolf
+had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw them
+and cried, “We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet
+like thee; thou art the wolf.” Then the wolf ran to a baker and said,
+“I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them for me.” And when the
+baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said, “Strew
+some white meal over my feet for me.” The miller thought to himself,
+“The wolf wants to deceive someone,” and refused; but the wolf said,
+“If thou wilt not do it, I will devour thee.” Then the miller was
+afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly men are like that.
+
+So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at
+it and said, “Open the door for me, children, your dear little mother
+has come home, and has brought every one of you something back from the
+forest with her.” The little kids cried, “First show us thy paws that
+we may know if thou art our dear little mother.” Then he put his paws
+in through the window, and when the kids saw that they were white, they
+believed that all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should
+come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted to hide
+themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the
+third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the
+cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the
+clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great ceremony;
+one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The youngest,
+who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not find. When the
+wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off, laid himself down
+under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon
+afterwards the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah! What a
+sight she saw there! The house-door stood wide open. The table, chairs,
+and benches were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces,
+and the quilts and pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her
+children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called them one after
+another by name, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the
+youngest, a soft voice cried, “Dear mother, I am in the clock-case.”
+She took the kid out, and it told her that the wolf had come and had
+eaten all the others. Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor
+children.
+
+At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with her.
+When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree and snored
+so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on every side and
+saw that something was moving and struggling in his gorged belly. “Ah,
+heavens,” said she, “is it possible that my poor children whom he has
+swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?” Then the kid had to
+run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut
+open the monster’s stomach, and hardly had she make one cut, than one
+little kid thrust its head out, and when she cut farther, all six
+sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and had
+suffered no injury whatever, for in his greediness the monster had
+swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing there was! They embraced
+their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor at his wedding. The mother,
+however, said, “Now go and look for some big stones, and we will fill
+the wicked beast’s stomach with them while he is still asleep.” Then
+the seven kids dragged the stones thither with all speed, and put as
+many of them into his stomach as they could get in; and the mother
+sewed him up again in the greatest haste, so that he was not aware of
+anything and never once stirred.
+
+When the wolf at length had had his sleep out, he got on his legs, and
+as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to go to
+a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move about, the stones
+in his stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then cried he,
+
+“What rumbles and tumbles
+Against my poor bones?
+I thought ’t was six kids,
+But it’s naught but big stones.”
+
+
+And when he got to the well and stooped over the water and was just
+about to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in, and there was no
+help, but he had to drown miserably. When the seven kids saw that, they
+came running to the spot and cried aloud, “The wolf is dead! The wolf
+is dead!” and danced for joy round about the well with their mother.

content/library/grimm/006_faithful_john.txt

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+Faithful John
+
+There was once on a time an old king who was ill, and thought to
+himself, “I am lying on what must be my death-bed.” Then said he, “Tell
+Faithful John to come to me.” Faithful John was his favourite servant,
+and was so called, because he had for his whole life long been so true
+to him. When therefore he came beside the bed, the King said to him,
+“Most faithful John, I feel my end approaching, and have no anxiety
+except about my son. He is still of tender age, and cannot always know
+how to guide himself. If thou dost not promise me to teach him
+everything that he ought to know, and to be his foster-father, I cannot
+close my eyes in peace.” Then answered Faithful John, “I will not
+forsake him, and will serve him with fidelity, even if it should cost
+me my life.” On this, the old King said, “Now I die in comfort and
+peace.” Then he added, “After my death, thou shalt show him the whole
+castle: all the chambers, halls, and vaults, and all the treasures
+which lie therein, but the last chamber in the long gallery, in which
+is the picture of the princess of the Golden Dwelling, shalt thou not
+show. If he sees that picture, he will fall violently in love with her,
+and will drop down in a swoon, and go through great danger for her
+sake, therefore thou must preserve him from that.” And when Faithful
+John had once more given his promise to the old King about this, the
+King said no more, but laid his head on his pillow, and died.
+
+When the old King had been carried to his grave, Faithful John told the
+young King all that he had promised his father on his deathbed, and
+said, “This will I assuredly perform, and will be faithful to thee as I
+have been faithful to him, even if it should cost me my life.” When the
+mourning was over, Faithful John said to him, “It is now time that thou
+shouldst see thine inheritance. I will show thee thy father’s palace.”
+Then he took him about everywhere, up and down, and let him see all the
+riches, and the magnificent apartments, only there was one room which
+he did not open, that in which hung the dangerous picture. The picture
+was, however, so placed that when the door was opened you looked
+straight on it, and it was so admirably painted that it seemed to
+breathe and live, and there was nothing more charming or more beautiful
+in the whole world. The young King, however, plainly remarked that
+Faithful John always walked past this one door, and said, “Why dost
+thou never open this one for me?” “There is something within it,” he
+replied, “which would terrify thee.” But the King answered, “I have
+seen all the palace, and I will know what is in this room also,” and he
+went and tried to break open the door by force. Then Faithful John held
+him back and said, “I promised thy father before his death that thou
+shouldst not see that which is in this chamber, it might bring the
+greatest misfortune on thee and on me.” “Ah, no,” replied the young
+King, “if I do not go in, it will be my certain destruction. I should
+have no rest day or night until I had seen it with my own eyes. I shall
+not leave the place now until thou hast unlocked the door.”
+
+Then Faithful John saw that there was no help for it now, and with a
+heavy heart and many sighs, sought out the key from the great bunch.
+When he had opened the door, he went in first, and thought by standing
+before him he could hide the portrait so that the King should not see
+it in front of him, but what availed that? The King stood on tip-toe
+and saw it over his shoulder. And when he saw the portrait of the
+maiden, which was so magnificent and shone with gold and precious
+stones, he fell fainting to the ground. Faithful John took him up,
+carried him to his bed, and sorrowfully thought, “The misfortune has
+befallen us, Lord God, what will be the end of it?” Then he
+strengthened him with wine, until he came to himself again. The first
+words the King said were, “Ah, the beautiful portrait! whose it it?”
+“That is the princess of the Golden Dwelling,” answered Faithful John.
+Then the King continued, “My love for her is so great, that if all the
+leaves on all the trees were tongues, they could not declare it. I will
+give my life to win her. Thou art my most Faithful John, thou must help
+me.”
+
+The faithful servant considered within himself for a long time how to
+set about the matter, for it was difficult even to obtain a sight of
+the King’s daughter. At length he thought of a way, and said to the
+King, “Everything which she has about her is of gold—tables, chairs,
+dishes, glasses, bowls, and household furniture. Among thy treasures
+are five tons of gold; let one of the goldsmiths of the Kingdom work
+these up into all manner of vessels and utensils, into all kinds of
+birds, wild beasts and strange animals, such as may please her, and we
+will go there with them and try our luck.”
+
+The King ordered all the goldsmiths to be brought to him, and they had
+to work night and day until at last the most splendid things were
+prepared. When everything was stowed on board a ship, Faithful John put
+on the dress of a merchant, and the King was forced to do the same in
+order to make himself quite unrecognizable. Then they sailed across the
+sea, and sailed on until they came to the town wherein dwelt the
+princess of the Golden Dwelling.
+
+Faithful John bade the King stay behind on the ship, and wait for him.
+“Perhaps I shall bring the princess with me,” said he, “therefore see
+that everything is in order; have the golden vessels set out and the
+whole ship decorated.” Then he gathered together in his apron all kinds
+of gold things, went on shore and walked straight to the royal palace.
+When he entered the courtyard of the palace, a beautiful girl was
+standing there by the well with two golden buckets in her hand, drawing
+water with them. And when she was just turning round to carry away the
+sparkling water she saw the stranger, and asked who he was. So he
+answered, “I am a merchant,” and opened his apron, and let her look in.
+Then she cried, “Oh, what beautiful gold things!” and put her pails
+down and looked at the golden wares one after the other. Then said the
+girl, “The princess must see these, she has such great pleasure in
+golden things, that she will buy all you have.” She took him by the
+hand and led him upstairs, for she was the waiting-maid. When the
+King’s daughter saw the wares, she was quite delighted and said, “They
+are so beautifully worked, that I will buy them all of thee.” But
+Faithful John said, “I am only the servant of a rich merchant. The
+things I have here are not to be compared with those my master has in
+his ship. They are the most beautiful and valuable things that have
+ever been made in gold.” She wanted to have everything brought to her
+there, but he said, “There are so many of them that it would take a
+great many days to do that, and so many rooms would be required to
+exhibit them, that your house is not big enough.” Then her curiosity
+and longing were still more excited, until at last she said, “Conduct
+me to the ship, I will go there myself, and behold the treasures of
+thine master.”
+
+On this Faithful John was quite delighted, and led her to the ship, and
+when the King saw her, he perceived that her beauty was even greater
+than the picture had represented it to be, and thought no other than
+that his heart would burst in twain. Then she got into the ship, and
+the King led her within. Faithful John, however, remained behind with
+the pilot, and ordered the ship to be pushed off, saying, “Set all
+sail, till it fly like a bird in air.” Within, however, the King showed
+her the golden vessels, every one of them, also the wild beasts and
+strange animals. Many hours went by whilst she was seeing everything,
+and in her delight she did not observe that the ship was sailing away.
+After she had looked at the last, she thanked the merchant and wanted
+to go home, but when she came to the side of the ship, she saw that it
+was on the deep sea far from land, and hurrying onwards with all sail
+set. “Ah,” cried she in her alarm, “I am betrayed! I am carried away
+and have fallen into the power of a merchant—I would die rather!” The
+King, however, seized her hand, and said, “I am not a merchant. I am a
+king, and of no meaner origin than thou art, and if I have carried thee
+away with subtlety, that has come to pass because of my exceeding great
+love for thee. The first time that I looked on thy portrait, I fell
+fainting to the ground.” When the princess of the Golden Dwelling heard
+that, she was comforted, and her heart was inclined unto him, so that
+she willingly consented to be his wife.
+
+It so happened, however, while they were sailing onwards over the deep
+sea, that Faithful John, who was sitting on the fore part of the
+vessel, making music, saw three ravens in the air, which came flying
+towards them. On this he stopped playing and listened to what they were
+saying to each other, for that he well understood. One cried, “Oh,
+there he is carrying home the princess of the Golden Dwelling.” “Yes,”
+replied the second, “but he has not got her yet.” Said the third, “But
+he has got her, she is sitting beside him in the ship.” Then the first
+began again, and cried, “What good will that do him? When they reach
+land a chestnut horse will leap forward to meet him, and the prince
+will want to mount it, but if he does that, it will run away with him,
+and rise up into the air with him, and he will never see his maiden
+more.” Spake the second, “But is there no escape?”
+
+“Oh, yes, if any one else gets on it swiftly, and takes out the pistol
+which must be in its holster, and shoots the horse dead with it, the
+young King is saved. But who knows that? And whosoever does know it,
+and tells it to him, will be turned to stone from the toe to the knee.”
+Then said the second, “I know more than that; even if the horse be
+killed, the young King will still not keep his bride. When they go into
+the castle together, a wrought bridal garment will be lying there in a
+dish, and looking as if it were woven of gold and silver; it is,
+however, nothing but sulphur and pitch, and if he put it on, it will
+burn him to the very bone and marrow.” Said the third, “Is there no
+escape at all?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” replied the second, “if any one with gloves on seizes the
+garment and throws it into the fire and burns it, the young King will
+be saved. “But what avails that?” “Whosoever knows it and tells it to
+him, half his body will become stone from the knee to the heart.”
+
+Then said the third, “I know still more; even if the bridal garment be
+burnt, the young King will still not have his bride. After the wedding,
+when the dancing begins and the young queen is dancing, she will
+suddenly turn pale and fall down as if dead, and if some one does not
+lift her up and draw three drops of blood from her right breast and
+spit them out again, she will die. But if any one who knows that were
+to declare it, he would become stone from the crown of his head to the
+sole of his foot.” When the ravens had spoken of this together, they
+flew onwards, and Faithful John had well understood everything, but
+from that time forth he became quiet and sad, for if he concealed what
+he had heard from his master, the latter would be unfortunate, and if
+he discovered it to him, he himself must sacrifice his life. At length,
+however, he said to himself, “I will save my master, even if it bring
+destruction on myself.”
+
+When therefore they came to shore, all happened as had been foretold by
+the ravens, and a magnificent chestnut horse sprang forward. “Good,”
+said the King, “he shall carry me to my palace,” and was about to mount
+it when Faithful John got before him, jumped quickly on it, drew the
+pistol out of the holster, and shot the horse. Then the other
+attendants of the King, who after all were not very fond of Faithful
+John, cried, “How shameful to kill the beautiful animal, that was to
+have carried the King to his palace.” But the King said, “Hold your
+peace and leave him alone, he is my most faithful John, who knows what
+may be the good of that!” They went into the palace, and in the hall
+there stood a dish, and therein lay the bridal garment looking no
+otherwise than as if it were made of gold and silver. The young King
+went towards it and was about to take hold of it, but Faithful John
+pushed him away, seized it with gloves on, carried it quickly to the
+fire and burnt it. The other attendants again began to murmur, and
+said, “Behold, now he is even burning the King’s bridal garment!” But
+the young King said, “Who knows what good he may have done, leave him
+alone, he is my most faithful John.”
+
+And now the wedding was solemnized: the dance began, and the bride also
+took part in it; then Faithful John was watchful and looked into her
+face, and suddenly she turned pale and fell to the ground, as if she
+were dead. On this he ran hastily to her, lifted her up and bore her
+into a chamber—then he laid her down, and knelt and sucked the three
+drops of blood from her right breast, and spat them out. Immediately
+she breathed again and recovered herself, but the young King had seen
+this, and being ignorant why Faithful John had done it, was angry and
+cried, “Throw him into a dungeon.” Next morning Faithful John was
+condemned, and led to the gallows, and when he stood on high, and was
+about to be executed, he said, “Every one who has to die is permitted
+before his end to make one last speech; may I too claim the right?”
+“Yes,” answered the King, “it shall be granted unto thee.” Then said
+Faithful John, “I am unjustly condemned, and have always been true to
+thee,” and he related how he had hearkened to the conversation of the
+ravens when on the sea, and how he had been obliged to do all these
+things in order to save his master. Then cried the King, “Oh, my most
+Faithful John. Pardon, pardon—bring him down.” But as Faithful John
+spoke the last word he had fallen down lifeless and become a stone.
+
+Thereupon the King and the Queen suffered great anguish, and the King
+said, “Ah, how ill I have requited great fidelity!” and ordered the
+stone figure to be taken up and placed in his bedroom beside his bed.
+And as often as he looked on it he wept and said, “Ah, if I could bring
+thee to life again, my most faithful John.” Some time passed and the
+Queen bore twins, two sons who grew fast and were her delight. Once
+when the Queen was at church and the two children were sitting playing
+beside their father, the latter full of grief again looked at the stone
+figure, sighed and said, “Ah, if I could but bring thee to life again,
+my most faithful John.” Then the stone began to speak and said, “Thou
+canst bring me to life again if thou wilt use for that purpose what is
+dearest to thee.” Then cried the King, “I will give everything I have
+in the world for thee.” The stone continued, “If thou wilt will cut off
+the heads of thy two children with thine own hand, and sprinkle me with
+their blood, I shall be restored to life.”
+
+The King was terrified when he heard that he himself must kill his
+dearest children, but he thought of faithful John’s great fidelity, and
+how he had died for him, drew his sword, and with his own hand cut off
+the children’s heads. And when he had smeared the stone with their
+blood, life returned to it, and Faithful John stood once more safe and
+healthy before him. He said to the King, “Thy truth shall not go
+unrewarded,” and took the heads of the children, put them on again, and
+rubbed the wounds with their blood, on which they became whole again
+immediately, and jumped about, and went on playing as if nothing had
+happened. Then the King was full of joy, and when he saw the Queen
+coming he hid Faithful John and the two children in a great cupboard.
+When she entered, he said to her, “Hast thou been praying in the
+church?” “Yes,” answered she, “but I have constantly been thinking of
+Faithful John and what misfortune has befallen him through us.” Then
+said he, “Dear wife, we can give him his life again, but it will cost
+us our two little sons, whom we must sacrifice.” The Queen turned pale,
+and her heart was full of terror, but she said, “We owe it to him, for
+his great fidelity.” Then the King was rejoiced that she thought as he
+had thought, and went and opened the cupboard, and brought forth
+Faithful John and the children, and said, “God be praised, he is
+delivered, and we have our little sons again also,” and told her how
+everything had occurred. Then they dwelt together in much happiness
+until their death.

content/library/grimm/007_the_good_bargain.txt

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+The Good Bargain
+
+There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold
+her for seven thalers. On the way home he had to pass a pond, and
+already from afar he heard the frogs crying, “Aik, aik, aik, aik.”
+“Well,” said he to himself, “they are talking without rhyme or reason,
+it is seven that I have received, not eight.” When he got to the water,
+he cried to them, “Stupid animals that you are! Don’t you know better
+than that? It is seven thalers and not eight.” The frogs, however,
+stood to their, “aik aik, aik, aik.” “Come, then, if you won’t believe
+it, I can count it out to you.” And he took his money out of his pocket
+and counted out the seven thalers, always reckoning four and twenty
+groschen to a thaler. The frogs, however, paid no attention to his
+reckoning, but still cried, “aik, aik, aik, aik.” “What,” cried the
+peasant, quite angry, “since you are determined to know better than I,
+count it yourselves,” and threw all the money into the water to them.
+He stood still and wanted to wait until they were done and had brought
+him his own again, but the frogs maintained their opinion and cried
+continually, “aik, aik, aik, aik,” and besides that, did not throw the
+money out again. He still waited a long while until evening came on and
+he was forced to go home. Then he abused the frogs and cried, “You
+water-splashers, you thick-heads, you goggle-eyes, you have great
+mouths and can screech till you hurt one’s ears, but you cannot count
+seven thalers! Do you think I’m going to stand here till you get done?”
+And with that he went away, but the frogs still cried, “aik, aik, aik,
+aik,” after him till he went home quite angry.
+
+After a while he bought another cow, which he killed, and he made the
+calculation that if he sold the meat well he might gain as much as the
+two cows were worth, and have the skin into the bargain. When therefore
+he got to the town with the meat, a great troop of dogs were gathered
+together in front of the gate, with a large greyhound at the head of
+them, which jumped at the meat, snuffed at it, and barked, “Wow, wow,
+wow.” As there was no stopping him, the peasant said to him, “Yes, yes,
+I know quite well that thou art saying, ‘wow, wow, wow,’ because thou
+wantest some of the meat; but I should fare badly if I were to give it
+to thee.” The dog, however, answered nothing but “wow, wow.” “Wilt thou
+promise not to devour it all then, and wilt thou go bail for thy
+companions?” “Wow, wow, wow,” said the dog. “Well, if thou insistest on
+it, I will leave it for thee; I know thee well, and know who is thy
+master; but this I tell thee, I must have my money in three days or
+else it will go ill with thee; thou must just bring it out to me.”
+Thereupon he unloaded the meat and turned back again, the dogs fell
+upon it and loudly barked, “wow, wow.”
+
+The countryman, who heard them from afar, said to himself, “Hark, now
+they all want some, but the big one is responsible to me for it.”
+
+When three days had passed, the countryman thought, “To-night my money
+will be in my pocket,” and was quite delighted. But no one would come
+and pay it. “There is no trusting any one now,” said he; and at last he
+lost patience, and went into the town to the butcher and demanded his
+money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but the peasant said,
+“Jesting apart, I will have my money! Did not the great dog bring you
+the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago?” Then the butcher grew
+angry, snatched a broomstick and drove him out. “Wait a while,” said
+the peasant, “there is still some justice in the world!” and went to
+the royal palace and begged for an audience. He was led before the
+King, who sat there with his daughter, and asked him what injury he had
+suffered. “Alas!” said he, “the frogs and the dogs have taken from me
+what is mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with the stick,” and
+he related at full length all that had happened. Thereupon the King’s
+daughter began to laugh heartily, and the King said to him, “I cannot
+give you justice in this, but you shall have my daughter to wife for
+it,—in her whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done at
+thee, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh. Thou
+mayst thank God for thy good fortune!”
+
+“Oh,” answered the peasant, “I will not have her, I have a wife
+already, and she is one too many for me; when I go home, it is just as
+bad as if I had a wife standing in every corner.” Then the King grew
+angry, and said, “Thou art a boor.” “Ah, Lord King,” replied the
+peasant, “what can you expect from an ox, but beef?” “Stop,” answered
+the King, “thou shalt have another reward. Be off now, but come back in
+three days, and then thou shalt have five hundred counted out in full.”
+
+When the peasant went out by the gate, the sentry said, “Thou hast made
+the King’s daughter laugh, so thou wilt certainly receive something
+good.” “Yes, that is what I think,” answered the peasant; “five hundred
+are to be counted out to me.” “Hark thee,” said the soldier, “give me
+some of it. What canst thou do with all that money?” “As it is thou,”
+said the peasant, “thou shalt have two hundred; present thyself in
+three days’ time before the King, and let it be paid to thee.” A Jew,
+who was standing by and had heard the conversation, ran after the
+peasant, held him by the coat, and said, “Oh, wonder! what a luck-child
+thou art! I will change it for thee, I will change it for thee into
+small coins, what dost thou want with the great thalers?” “Jew,” said
+the countryman, “three hundred canst thou still have; give it to me at
+once in coin, in three days from this, thou wilt be paid for it by the
+King.” The Jew was delighted with the profit, and brought the sum in
+bad groschen, three of which were worth two good ones. After three days
+had passed, according to the King’s command, the peasant went before
+the King. “Pull his coat off,” said the latter, “and he shall have his
+five hundred.” “Ah!” said the peasant, “they no longer belong to me; I
+presented two hundred of them to the sentinel, and three hundred the
+Jew has changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me.” In
+the meantime the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they had
+gained from the peasant, and they received the blows strictly counted
+out. The soldier bore it patiently and knew already how it tasted, but
+the Jew said sorrowfully, “Alas, alas, are these the heavy thalers?”
+The King could not help laughing at the peasant, and as all his anger
+was gone, he said, “As thou hast already lost thy reward before it fell
+to thy lot, I will give thee something in the place of it. Go into my
+treasure chamber and get some money for thyself, as much as thou wilt.”
+The peasant did not need to be told twice, and stuffed into his big
+pockets whatsoever would go in. Afterwards he went to an inn and
+counted out his money. The Jew had crept after him and heard how he
+muttered to himself, “That rogue of a King has cheated me after all,
+why could he not have given me the money himself, and then I should
+have known what I had? How can I tell now if what I have had the luck
+to put in my pockets is right or not?” “Good heavens!” said the Jew to
+himself, “that man is speaking disrespectfully of our lord the King, I
+will run and inform, and then I shall get a reward, and he will be
+punished as well.”
+
+When the King heard of the peasant’s words he fell into a passion, and
+commanded the Jew to go and bring the offender to him. The Jew ran to
+the peasant, “You are to go at once to the lord King in the very
+clothes you have on.” “I know what’s right better than that,” answered
+the peasant, “I shall have a new coat made first. Dost thou think that
+a man with so much money in his pocket is to go there in his ragged old
+coat?” The Jew, as he saw that the peasant would not stir without
+another coat, and as he feared that if the King’s anger cooled, he
+himself would lose his reward, and the peasant his punishment, said, “I
+will out of pure friendship lend thee a coat for the short time. What
+will people not do for love!” The peasant was contented with this, put
+the Jew’s coat on, and went off with him.
+
+The King reproached the countryman because of the evil speaking of
+which the Jew had informed him. “Ah,” said the peasant, “what a Jew
+says is always false—no true word ever comes out of his mouth! That
+rascal there is capable of maintaining that I have his coat on.”
+
+“What is that?” shrieked the Jew. “Is the coat not mine? Have I not
+lent it to thee out of pure friendship, in order that thou might appear
+before the lord King?” When the King heard that, he said, “The Jew has
+assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or the
+peasant,” and again he ordered something to be counted out to him in
+hard thalers. The peasant, however, went home in the good coat, with
+the good money in his pocket, and said to himself, “This time I have
+hit it!”

content/library/grimm/008_the_wonderful_musician.txt

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+The Wonderful Musician
+
+There was once a wonderful musician, who went quite alone through a
+forest and thought of all manner of things, and when nothing was left
+for him to think about, he said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass
+heavily with me here in the forest, I will fetch hither a good
+companion for myself.” Then he took his fiddle from his back, and
+played so that it echoed through the trees. It was not long before a
+wolf came trotting through the thicket towards him. “Ah, here is a wolf
+coming! I have no desire for him!” said the musician; but the wolf came
+nearer and said to him, “Ah, dear musician, how beautifully thou dost
+play. I should like to learn that, too.” “It is soon learnt,” the
+musician replied, “thou hast only to do all that I bid thee.” “Oh,
+musician,” said the wolf, “I will obey thee as a scholar obeys his
+master.” The musician bade him follow, and when they had gone part of
+the way together, they came to an old oak-tree which was hollow inside,
+and cleft in the middle. “Look,” said the musician, “if thou wilt learn
+to fiddle, put thy fore paws into this crevice.” The wolf obeyed, but
+the musician quickly picked up a stone and with one blow wedged his two
+paws so fast that he was forced to stay there like a prisoner. “Stay
+there until I come back again,” said the musician, and went his way.
+
+After a while he again said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass
+heavily with me here in the forest, I will fetch hither another
+companion,” and took his fiddle and again played in the forest. It was
+not long before a fox came creeping through the trees towards him. “Ah,
+there’s a fox coming!” said the musician. “I have no desire for him.”
+The fox came up to him and said, “Oh, dear musician, how beautifully
+thou dost play! I should like to learn that too.” “That is soon
+learnt,” said the musician. “Thou hast only to do everything that I bid
+thee.” “Oh, musician,” then said the fox, “I will obey thee as a
+scholar obeys his master.” “Follow me,” said the musician; and when
+they had walked a part of the way, they came to a footpath, with high
+bushes on both sides of it. There the musician stood still, and from
+one side bent a young hazel-bush down to the ground, and put his foot
+on the top of it, then he bent down a young tree from the other side as
+well, and said, “Now little fox, if thou wilt learn something, give me
+thy left front paw.” The fox obeyed, and the musician fastened his paw
+to the left bough. “Little fox,” said he, “now reach me thy right paw”
+and he tied it to the right bough. When he had examined whether they
+were firm enough, he let go, and the bushes sprang up again, and jerked
+up the little fox, so that it hung struggling in the air. “Wait there
+till I come back again,” said the musician, and went his way.
+
+Again he said to himself, “Time is beginning to pass heavily with me
+here in the forest, I will fetch hither another companion,” so he took
+his fiddle, and the sound echoed through the forest. Then a little hare
+came springing towards him. “Why, a hare is coming,” said the musician,
+“I do not want him.” “Ah, dear musician,” said the hare, “how
+beautifully thou dost fiddle; I too, should like to learn that.” “That
+is soon learnt,” said the musician, “thou hast only to do everything
+that I bid thee.”
+
+“Oh, musician,” replied the little hare, “I will obey thee as a scholar
+obeys his master.” They went a part of the way together until they came
+to an open space in the forest, where stood an aspen tree. The musician
+tied a long string round the little hare’s neck, the other end of which
+he fastened to the tree. “Now briskly, little hare, run twenty times
+round the tree!” cried the musician, and the little hare obeyed, and
+when it had run round twenty times, it had twisted the string twenty
+times round the trunk of the tree, and the little hare was caught, and
+let it pull and tug as it liked, it only made the string cut into its
+tender neck. “Wait there till I come back,” said the musician, and went
+onwards.
+
+The wolf, in the meantime, had pushed and pulled and bitten at the
+stone, and had worked so long that he had set his feet at liberty and
+had drawn them once more out of the cleft. Full of anger and rage he
+hurried after the musician and wanted to tear him to pieces. When the
+fox saw him running, he began to lament, and cried with all his might,
+“Brother wolf, come to my help, the musician has betrayed me!” The wolf
+drew down the little tree, bit the cord in two, and freed the fox, who
+went with him to take revenge on the musician. They found the tied-up
+hare, whom likewise they delivered, and then they all sought the enemy
+together.
+
+The musician had once more played his fiddle as he went on his way, and
+this time he had been more fortunate. The sound reached the ears of a
+poor wood-cutter, who instantly, whether he would or no, gave up his
+work and came with his hatchet under his arm to listen to the music.
+“At last comes the right companion,” said the musician, “for I was
+seeking a human being, and no wild beast.” And he began and played so
+beautifully and delightfully that the poor man stood there as if
+bewitched, and his heart leaped with gladness. And as he thus stood,
+the wolf, the fox, and the hare came up, and he saw well that they had
+some evil design. So he raised his glittering axe and placed himself
+before the musician, as if to say, “Whoso wishes to touch him let him
+beware, for he will have to do with me!” Then the beasts were terrified
+and ran back into the forest. The musician, however, played once more
+to the man out of gratitude, and then went onwards.

content/library/grimm/009_the_twelve_brothers.txt

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+The Twelve Brothers
+
+There were once on a time a king and a queen who lived happily together
+and had twelve children, but they were all boys. Then said the King to
+his wife, “If the thirteenth child which thou art about to bring into
+the world, is a girl, the twelve boys shall die, in order that her
+possessions may be great, and that the kingdom may fall to her alone.”
+He caused likewise twelve coffins to be made, which were already filled
+with shavings, and in each lay the little pillow for the dead, and he
+had them taken into a locked-up room, and then he gave the Queen the
+key of it, and bade her not to speak of this to any one.
+
+The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day long, until the
+youngest son, who was always with her, and whom she had named Benjamin,
+from the Bible, said to her, “Dear mother, why art thou so sad?”
+
+“Dearest child,” she answered, “I may not tell thee.” But he let her
+have no rest until she went and unlocked the room, and showed him the
+twelve coffins ready filled with shavings. Then she said, “my dearest
+Benjamin, thy father has had these coffins made for thee and for thy
+eleven brothers, for if I bring a little girl into the world, you are
+all to be killed and buried in them.” And as she wept while she was
+saying this, the son comforted her and said, “Weep not, dear mother, we
+will save ourselves, and go hence.” But she said, “Go forth into the
+forest with thy eleven brothers, and let one sit constantly on the
+highest tree which can be found, and keep watch, looking towards the
+tower here in the castle. If I give birth to a little son, I will put
+up a white flag, and then you may venture to come back, but if I bear a
+daughter, I will hoist a red flag, and then fly hence as quickly as you
+are able, and may the good God protect you. And every night I will rise
+up and pray for you—in winter that you may be able to warm yourself at
+a fire, and in summer that you may not faint away in the heat.”
+
+After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went forth into the
+forest. They each kept watch in turn, and sat on the highest oak and
+looked towards the tower. When eleven days had passed and the turn came
+to Benjamin, he saw that a flag was being raised. It was, however, not
+the white, but the blood-red flag which announced that they were all to
+die. When the brothers heard that, they were very angry and said, “Are
+we all to suffer death for the sake of a girl? We swear that we will
+avenge ourselves!—wheresoever we find a girl, her red blood shall
+flow.”
+
+Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the midst of it,
+where it was the darkest, they found a little bewitched hut, which was
+standing empty. Then said they, “Here we will dwell, and thou Benjamin,
+who art the youngest and weakest, thou shalt stay at home and keep
+house, we others will go out and get food.” Then they went into the
+forest and shot hares, wild deer, birds and pigeons, and whatsoever
+there was to eat; this they took to Benjamin, who had to dress it for
+them in order that they might appease their hunger. They lived together
+ten years in the little hut, and the time did not appear long to them.
+
+The little daughter which their mother the Queen had given birth to,
+was now grown up; she was good of heart, and fair of face, and had a
+golden star on her forehead. Once, when it was the great washing, she
+saw twelve men’s shirts among the things, and asked her mother, “To
+whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are far too small for
+father?” Then the Queen answered with a heavy heart, “Dear child, these
+belong to thy twelve brothers.” Said the maiden, “Where are my twelve
+brothers, I have never yet heard of them?” She replied, “God knows
+where they are, they are wandering about the world.” Then she took the
+maiden and opened the chamber for her, and showed her the twelve
+coffins with the shavings, and pillows for the head. “These coffins,”
+said she, “were destined for thy brothers, but they went away secretly
+before thou wert born,” and she related to her how everything had
+happened; then said the maiden, “Dear mother, weep not, I will go and
+seek my brothers.”
+
+So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and straight into the
+great forest. She walked the whole day, and in the evening she came to
+the bewitched hut. Then she entered it and found a young boy, who
+asked, “From whence comest thou, and whither art thou bound?” and was
+astonished that she was so beautiful, and wore royal garments, and had
+a star on her forehead. And she answered, “I am a king’s daughter, and
+am seeking my twelve brothers, and I will walk as far as the sky is
+blue until I find them.” She likewise showed him the twelve shirts
+which belonged to them. Then Benjamin saw that she was his sister, and
+said, “I am Benjamin, thy youngest brother.” And she began to weep for
+joy, and Benjamin wept also, and they kissed and embraced each other
+with the greatest love. But after this he said, “Dear sister, there is
+still one difficulty. We have agreed that every maiden whom we meet
+shall die, because we have been obliged to leave our kingdom on account
+of a girl.” Then said she, “I will willingly die, if by so doing I can
+deliver my twelve brothers.”
+
+“No,” answered he, “thou shalt not die, seat thyself beneath this tub
+until our eleven brothers come, and then I will soon come to an
+agreement with them.”
+
+She did so, and when it was night the others came from hunting, and
+their dinner was ready. And as they were sitting at table, and eating,
+they asked, “What news is there?” Said Benjamin, “Don’t you know
+anything?” “No,” they answered. He continued, “You have been in the
+forest and I have stayed at home, and yet I know more than you do.”
+“Tell us then,” they cried. He answered, “But promise me that the first
+maiden who meets us shall not be killed.” “Yes,” they all cried, “she
+shall have mercy, only do tell us.”
+
+Then said he, “Our sister is here,” and he lifted up the tub, and the
+King’s daughter came forth in her royal garments with the golden star
+on her forehead, and she was beautiful, delicate and fair. Then they
+were all rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and kissed and loved her with
+all their hearts.
+
+Now she stayed at home with Benjamin and helped him with the work. The
+eleven went into the forest and caught game, and deer, and birds, and
+wood-pigeons that they might have food, and the little sister and
+Benjamin took care to make it ready for them. She sought for the wood
+for cooking and herbs for vegetables, and put the pans on the fire so
+that the dinner was always ready when the eleven came. She likewise
+kept order in the little house, and put beautifully white clean
+coverings on the little beds, and the brothers were always contented
+and lived in great harmony with her.
+
+Once on a time the two at home had prepared a beautiful entertainment,
+and when they were all together, they sat down and ate and drank and
+were full of gladness. There was, however, a little garden belonging to
+the bewitched house wherein stood twelve lily flowers, which are
+likewise called students. She wished to give her brothers pleasure, and
+plucked the twelve flowers, and thought she would present each brother
+with one while at dinner. But at the self-same moment that she plucked
+the flowers the twelve brothers were changed into twelve ravens, and
+flew away over the forest, and the house and garden vanished likewise.
+And now the poor maiden was alone in the wild forest, and when she
+looked around, an old woman was standing near her who said, “My child,
+what hast thou done? Why didst thou not leave the twelve white flowers
+growing? They were thy brothers, who are now for evermore changed into
+ravens.” The maiden said, weeping, “Is there no way of delivering
+them?”
+
+“No,” said the woman, “there is but one in the whole world, and that is
+so hard that thou wilt not deliver them by it, for thou must be dumb
+for seven years, and mayst not speak or laugh, and if thou speakest one
+single word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all is in
+vain, and thy brothers will be killed by the one word.”
+
+Then said the maiden in her heart, “I know with certainty that I shall
+set my brothers free,” and went and sought a high tree and seated
+herself in it and span, and neither spoke nor laughed. Now it so
+happened that a king was hunting in the forest, who had a great
+greyhound which ran to the tree on which the maiden was sitting, and
+sprang about it, whining, and barking at her. Then the King came by and
+saw the beautiful King’s daughter with the golden star on her brow, and
+was so charmed with her beauty that he called to ask her if she would
+be his wife. She made no answer, but nodded a little with her head. So
+he climbed up the tree himself, carried her down, placed her on his
+horse, and bore her home. Then the wedding was solemnized with great
+magnificence and rejoicing, but the bride neither spoke nor smiled.
+When they had lived happily together for a few years, the King’s
+mother, who was a wicked woman, began to slander the young Queen, and
+said to the King, “This is a common beggar girl whom thou hast brought
+back with thee. Who knows what impious tricks she practises secretly!
+Even if she be dumb, and not able to speak, she still might laugh for
+once; but those who do not laugh have bad consciences.” At first the
+King would not believe it, but the old woman urged this so long, and
+accused her of so many evil things, that at last the King let himself
+be persuaded and sentenced her to death.
+
+And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in which she was to
+be burnt, and the King stood above at the window and looked on with
+tearful eyes, because he still loved her so much. And when she was
+bound fast to the stake, and the fire was licking at her clothes with
+its red tongue, the last instant of the seven years expired. Then a
+whirring sound was heard in the air, and twelve ravens came flying
+towards the place, and sank downwards, and when they touched the earth
+they were her twelve brothers, whom she had delivered. They tore the
+fire asunder, extinguished the flames, set their dear sister free, and
+kissed and embraced her. And now as she dared to open her mouth and
+speak, she told the King why she had been dumb, and had never laughed.
+The King rejoiced when he heard that she was innocent, and they all
+lived in great unity until their death. The wicked step-mother was
+taken before the judge, and put into a barrel filled with boiling oil
+and venomous snakes, and died an evil death.

content/library/grimm/010_the_pack_of_ragamuffins.txt

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+The Pack of Ragamuffins
+
+The cock once said to the hen, “It is now the time when our nuts are
+ripe, so let us go to the hill together and for once eat our fill
+before the squirrel takes them all away.” “Yes,” replied the hen,
+“come, we will have some pleasure together.” Then they went away to the
+hill, and on it was a bright day they stayed till evening. Now I do not
+know whether it was that they had eaten till they were too fat, or
+whether they had become proud, but they would not go home on foot, and
+the cock had to build a little carriage of nut-shells. When it was
+ready, the little hen seated herself in it and said to the cock, “Thou
+canst just harness thyself to it.” “I like that!” said the cock, “I
+would rather go home on foot than let myself be harnessed to it; no,
+that is not our bargain. I do not mind being coachman and sitting on
+the box, but drag it myself I will not.”
+
+As they were thus disputing, a duck quacked to them, “You thieving
+folks, who bade you go to my nut-hill? Well, you shall suffer for it!”
+and ran with open beak at the cock. But the cock also was not idle, and
+fell boldly on the duck, and at last wounded her so with his spurs that
+she also begged for mercy, and willingly let herself be harnessed to
+the carriage as a punishment. The little cock now seated himself on the
+box and was coachman, and thereupon they went off in a gallop, with
+“Duck, go as fast as thou canst.” When they had driven a part of the
+way they met two foot-passengers, a pin and a needle. They cried,
+“Stop! stop!” and said that it would soon be as dark as pitch, and then
+they could not go a step further, and that it was so dirty on the road,
+and asked if they could not get into the carriage for a while. They had
+been at the tailor’s public-house by the gate, and had stayed too long
+over the beer. As they were thin people, who did not take up much room,
+the cock let them both get in, but they had to promise him and his
+little hen not to step on their feet. Late in the evening they came to
+an inn, and as they did not like to go further by night, and as the
+duck also was not strong on her feet, and fell from one side to the
+other, they went in. The host at first made many objections, his house
+was already full, besides he thought they could not be very
+distinguished persons; but at last, as they made pleasant speeches, and
+told him that he should have the egg which the little hen has laid on
+the way, and should likewise keep the duck, which laid one every day,
+he at length said that they might stay the night. And now they had
+themselves well served, and feasted and rioted. Early in the morning,
+when day was breaking, and every one was asleep, the cock awoke the
+hen, brought the egg, pecked it open, and they ate it together, but
+they threw the shell on the hearth. Then they went to the needle which
+was still asleep, took it by the head and stuck it into the cushion of
+the landlord’s chair, and put the pin in his towel, and at the last
+without more ado they flew away over the heath. The duck who liked to
+sleep in the open air and had stayed in the yard, heard them going
+away, made herself merry and found a stream, down which she swam, which
+was a much quicker way of travelling than being harnessed to a
+carriage. The host did not get out of bed for two hours after this; he
+washed himself and wanted to dry himself, then the pin went over his
+face and made a red streak from one ear to the other. After this he
+went into the kitchen and wanted to light a pipe, but when he came to
+the hearth the egg-shell darted into his eyes. “This morning everything
+attacks my head,” said he, and angrily sat down on his grandfather’s
+chair, but he quickly started up again and cried, “Woe is me,” for the
+needle had pricked him still worse than the pin, and not in the head.
+Now he was thoroughly angry, and suspected the guests who had come so
+late the night before, and when he went and looked about for them, they
+were gone. Then he made a vow to take no more ragamuffins into his
+house, for they consume much, pay for nothing, and play mischievous
+tricks into the bargain by way of gratitude.

content/library/grimm/011_little_brother_and_little_sister.txt

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+Little Brother and Little Sister
+
+Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, “Since our
+mother died we have had no happiness; our step-mother beats us every
+day, and if we come near her she kicks us away with her foot. Our meals
+are the hard crusts of bread that are left over; and the little dog
+under the table is better off, for she often throws it a nice bit. May
+Heaven pity us. If our mother only knew! Come, we will go forth
+together into the wide world.”
+
+They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony places; and
+when it rained the little sister said, “Heaven and our hearts are
+weeping together.” In the evening they came to a large forest, and they
+were so weary with sorrow and hunger and the long walk, that they lay
+down in a hollow tree and fell asleep.
+
+The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, and
+shone down hot into the tree. Then the brother said, “Sister, I am
+thirsty; if I knew of a little brook I would go and just take a drink;
+I think I hear one running.” The brother got up and took the little
+sister by the hand, and they set off to find the brook.
+
+But the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen how the two
+children had gone away, and had crept after them privily, as witches do
+creep, and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest.
+
+Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the stones,
+the brother was going to drink out of it, but the sister heard how it
+said as it ran, “Who drinks of me will be a tiger; who drinks of me
+will be a tiger.” Then the sister cried, “Pray, dear brother, do not
+drink, or you will become a wild beast, and tear me to pieces.” The
+brother did not drink, although he was so thirsty, but said, “I will
+wait for the next spring.”
+
+When they came to the next brook the sister heard this also say, “Who
+drinks of me will be a wolf; who drinks of me will be a wolf.” Then the
+sister cried out, “Pray, dear brother, do not drink, or you will become
+a wolf, and devour me.” The brother did not drink, and said, “I will
+wait until we come to the next spring, but then I must drink, say what
+you like; for my thirst is too great.”
+
+And when they came to the third brook the sister heard how it said as
+it ran, “Who drinks of me will be a roebuck; who drinks of me will be a
+roebuck.” The sister said, “Oh, I pray you, dear brother, do not drink,
+or you will become a roebuck, and run away from me.” But the brother
+had knelt down at once by the brook, and had bent down and drunk some
+of the water, and as soon as the first drops touched his lips he lay
+there a young roebuck.
+
+And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched brother, and the little
+roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at last the girl
+said, “Be quiet, dear little roe, I will never, never leave you.”
+
+Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the roebuck’s neck,
+and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. With this she
+tied the little beast and led it on, and she walked deeper and deeper
+into the forest.
+
+And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a little
+house, and the girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, “We
+can stay here and live.” Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a
+soft bed for the roe; and every morning she went out and gathered roots
+and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender grass for the roe,
+who ate out of her hand, and was content and played round about her. In
+the evening, when the sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she
+laid her head upon the roebuck’s back: that was her pillow, and she
+slept softly on it. And if only the brother had had his human form it
+would have been a delightful life.
+
+For some time they were alone like this in the wilderness. But it
+happened that the King of the country held a great hunt in the forest.
+Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs, and the merry shouts
+of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the roebuck heard all, and
+was only too anxious to be there. “Oh,” said he, to his sister, “let me
+be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any longer;” and he begged so much
+that at last she agreed. “But,” said she to him, “come back to me in
+the evening; I must shut my door for fear of the rough huntsmen, so
+knock and say, ‘My little sister, let me in!’ that I may know you; and
+if you do not say that, I shall not open the door.” Then the young
+roebuck sprang away; so happy was he and so merry in the open air.
+
+The King and the huntsmen saw the pretty creature, and started after
+him, but they could not catch him, and when they thought that they
+surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and could not be
+seen. When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, “My
+little sister, let me in.” Then the door was opened for him, and he
+jumped in, and rested himself the whole night through upon his soft
+bed.
+
+The next day the hunt went on afresh, and when the roebuck again heard
+the bugle-horn, and the ho! ho! of the huntsmen, he had no peace, but
+said, “Sister, let me out, I must be off.” His sister opened the door
+for him, and said, “But you must be here again in the evening and say
+your pass-word.”
+
+When the King and his huntsmen again saw the young roebuck with the
+golden collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick and nimble for
+them. This went on for the whole day, but at last by the evening the
+huntsmen had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a little in
+the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a hunter crept after
+him to the cottage and heard how he said, “My little sister, let me
+in,” and saw that the door was opened for him, and was shut again at
+once. The huntsman took notice of it all, and went to the King and told
+him what he had seen and heard. Then the King said, “To-morrow we will
+hunt once more.”
+
+The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she saw that
+her fawn was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid herbs on the
+wound, and said, “Go to your bed, dear roe, that you may get well
+again.” But the wound was so slight that the roebuck, next morning, did
+not feel it any more. And when he again heard the sport outside, he
+said, “I cannot bear it, I must be there; they shall not find it so
+easy to catch me.” The sister cried, and said, “This time they will
+kill you, and here am I alone in the forest and forsaken by all the
+world. I will not let you out.” “Then you will have me die of grief,”
+answered the roe; “when I hear the bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump
+out of my skin.” Then the sister could not do otherwise, but opened the
+door for him with a heavy heart, and the roebuck, full of health and
+joy, bounded into the forest.
+
+When the King saw him, he said to his huntsmen, “Now chase him all day
+long till night-fall, but take care that no one does him any harm.”
+
+As soon as the sun had set, the King said to the huntsman, “Now come
+and show me the cottage in the wood;” and when he was at the door, he
+knocked and called out, “Dear little sister, let me in.” Then the door
+opened, and the King walked in, and there stood a maiden more lovely
+than any he had ever seen. The maiden was frightened when she saw, not
+her little roe, but a man come in who wore a golden crown upon his
+head. But the King looked kindly at her, stretched out his hand, and
+said, “Will you go with me to my palace and be my dear wife?” “Yes,
+indeed,” answered the maiden, “but the little roe must go with me, I
+cannot leave him.” The King said, “It shall stay with you as long as
+you live, and shall want nothing.” Just then he came running in, and
+the sister again tied him with the cord of rushes, took it in her own
+hand, and went away with the King from the cottage.
+
+The King took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried her to his
+palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp. She was now the
+Queen, and they lived for a long time happily together; the roebuck was
+tended and cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden.
+
+But the wicked step-mother, because of whom the children had gone out
+into the world, thought all the time that the sister had been torn to
+pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the brother had been
+shot for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when she heard that they were
+so happy, and so well off, envy and hatred rose in her heart and left
+her no peace, and she thought of nothing but how she could bring them
+again to misfortune. Her own daughter, who was ugly as night, and had
+only one eye, grumbled at her and said, “A Queen! that ought to have
+been my luck.” “Only be quiet,” answered the old woman, and comforted
+her by saying, “when the time comes I shall be ready.”
+
+As time went on, the Queen had a pretty little boy, and it happened
+that the King was out hunting; so the old witch took the form of the
+chamber-maid, went into the room where the Queen lay, and said to her,
+“Come, the bath is ready; it will do you good, and give you fresh
+strength; make haste before it gets cold.”
+
+The daughter also was close by; so they carried the weakly Queen into
+the bath-room, and put her into the bath; then they shut the door and
+ran away. But in the bath-room they had made a fire of such deadly heat
+that the beautiful young Queen was soon suffocated.
+
+When this was done the old woman took her daughter, put a nightcap on
+her head, and laid her in bed in place of the Queen. She gave her too
+the shape and the look of the Queen, only she could not make good the
+lost eye. But in order that the King might not see it, she was to lie
+on the side on which she had no eye.
+
+In the evening when he came home and heard that he had a son he was
+heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to see how she
+was. But the old woman quickly called out, “For your life leave the
+curtains closed; the Queen ought not to see the light yet, and must
+have rest.” The King went away, and did not find out that a false Queen
+was lying in the bed.
+
+But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the
+nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw the door
+open and the true Queen walk in. She took the child out of the cradle,
+laid it on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook up its pillow, laid
+the child down again, and covered it with the little quilt. And she did
+not forget the roebuck, but went into the corner where it lay, and
+stroked its back. Then she went quite silently out of the door again.
+The next morning the nurse asked the guards whether anyone had come
+into the palace during the night, but they answered, “No, we have seen
+no one.”
+
+She came thus many nights and never spoke a word: the nurse always saw
+her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it.
+
+When some time had passed in this manner, the Queen began to speak in
+the night, and said—
+
+“How fares my child, how fares my roe?
+Twice shall I come, then never more.”
+
+
+The nurse did not answer, but when the Queen had gone again, went to
+the King and told him all. The King said, “Ah, heavens! what is this?
+To-morrow night I will watch by the child.” In the evening he went into
+the nursery, and at midnight the Queen again appeared and said—
+
+“How fares my child, how fares my roe?
+Once will I come, then never more.”
+
+
+And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she disappeared.
+The King dared not speak to her, but on the next night he watched
+again. Then she said—
+
+“How fares my child, how fares my roe?
+This time I come, then never more.”
+
+
+Then the King could not restrain himself; he sprang towards her, and
+said, “You can be none other than my dear wife.” She answered, “Yes, I
+am your dear wife,” and at the same moment she received life again, and
+by God’s grace became fresh, rosy, and full of health.
+
+Then she told the King the evil deed which the wicked witch and her
+daughter had been guilty of towards her. The King ordered both to be
+led before the judge, and judgment was delivered against them. The
+daughter was taken into the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild
+beasts, but the witch was cast into the fire and miserably burnt. And
+as soon as she was burnt the roebuck changed his shape, and received
+his human form again, so the sister and brother lived happily together
+all their lives.

content/library/grimm/012_rapunzel.txt

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+Rapunzel
+
+There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a
+child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her
+desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house
+from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most
+beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high
+wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an
+enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world. One
+day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the
+garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful
+rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and green that she longed
+for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased
+every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite
+pined away, and looked pale and miserable. Then her husband was
+alarmed, and asked, “What aileth thee, dear wife?” “Ah,” she replied,
+“if I can’t get some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our
+house, to eat, I shall die.” The man, who loved her, thought, “Sooner
+than let thy wife die, bring her some of the rampion thyself, let it
+cost thee what it will.” In the twilight of the evening, he clambered
+down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched
+a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself
+a salad of it, and ate it with much relish. She, however, liked it so
+much—so very much, that the next day she longed for it three times as
+much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more
+descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let
+himself down again; but when he had clambered down the wall he was
+terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him. “How
+canst thou dare,” said she with angry look, “to descend into my garden
+and steal my rampion like a thief? Thou shalt suffer for it!” “Ah,”
+answered he, “let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my
+mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the
+window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she
+had not got some to eat.” Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be
+softened, and said to him, “If the case be as thou sayest, I will allow
+thee to take away with thee as much rampion as thou wilt, only I make
+one condition, thou must give me the child which thy wife will bring
+into the world; it shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a
+mother.” The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the
+woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the
+child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.
+
+Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. When she
+was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay
+in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was
+a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed
+herself beneath it and cried,
+
+“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
+Let down thy hair to me.”
+
+
+Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she
+heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses,
+wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the
+hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.
+
+After a year or two, it came to pass that the King’s son rode through
+the forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so
+charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in
+her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The
+King’s son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the
+tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so
+deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest
+and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he
+saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,
+
+“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
+Let down thy hair.”
+
+
+Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress
+climbed up to her. “If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will
+for once try my fortune,” said he, and the next day when it began to
+grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,
+
+“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
+Let down thy hair.”
+
+
+Immediately the hair fell down and the King’s son climbed up.
+
+At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as her eyes
+had never yet beheld, came to her; but the King’s son began to talk to
+her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so
+stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see
+her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would
+take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome,
+she thought, “He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does;” and she
+said yes, and laid her hand in his. She said, “I will willingly go away
+with thee, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with thee a skein
+of silk every time that thou comest, and I will weave a ladder with it,
+and when that is ready I will descend, and thou wilt take me on thy
+horse.” They agreed that until that time he should come to her every
+evening, for the old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked
+nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, “Tell me, Dame
+Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up
+than the young King’s son—he is with me in a moment.” “Ah! thou wicked
+child,” cried the enchantress “What do I hear thee say! I thought I had
+separated thee from all the world, and yet thou hast deceived me.” In
+her anger she clutched Rapunzel’s beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice
+round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and
+snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground.
+And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where
+she had to live in great grief and misery.
+
+On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the enchantress
+in the evening fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off, to
+the hook of the window, and when the King’s son came and cried,
+
+“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
+Let down thy hair,”
+
+
+she let the hair down. The King’s son ascended, but he did not find his
+dearest Rapunzel above, but the enchantress, who gazed at him with
+wicked and venomous looks. “Aha!” she cried mockingly, “Thou wouldst
+fetch thy dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the
+nest; the cat has got it, and will scratch out thy eyes as well.
+Rapunzel is lost to thee; thou wilt never see her more.” The King’s son
+was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the
+tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell,
+pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate
+nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over
+the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some
+years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins
+to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness.
+He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards
+it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and
+wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and
+he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he
+was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy
+and contented.

content/library/grimm/013_the_three_little_men_in_the_wood.txt

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+The Three Little Men in the Wood
+
+There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman whose husband died,
+and the man had a daughter, and the woman also had a daughter. The
+girls were acquainted with each other, and went out walking together,
+and afterwards came to the woman in her house. Then said she to the
+man’s daughter, “Listen, tell thy father that I would like to marry
+him, and then thou shalt wash thyself in milk every morning, and drink
+wine, but my own daughter shall wash herself in water and drink water.”
+The girl went home, and told her father what the woman had said. The
+man said, “What shall I do? Marriage is a joy and also a torment.” At
+length as he could come to no decision, he pulled off his boot, and
+said, “Take this boot, it has a hole in the sole of it. Go with it up
+to the loft, hang it on the big nail, and then pour water into it. If
+it hold the water, then I will again take a wife, but if it run
+through, I will not.” The girl did as she was ordered, but the water
+drew the hole together, and the boot became full to the top. She
+informed her father how it had turned out. Then he himself went up, and
+when he saw that she was right, he went to the widow and wooed her, and
+the wedding was celebrated.
+
+The next morning, when the two girls got up, there stood before the
+man’s daughter milk for her to wash in and wine for her to drink, but
+before the woman’s daughter stood water to wash herself with and water
+for drinking. On the second morning, stood water for washing and water
+for drinking before the man’s daughter as well as before the woman’s
+daughter. And on the third morning stood water for washing and water
+for drinking before the man’s daughter, and milk for washing and wine
+for drinking, before the woman’s daughter, and so it continued. The
+woman became bitterly unkind to her step-daughter, and day by day did
+her best to treat her still worse. She was also envious because her
+step-daughter was beautiful and lovable, and her own daughter ugly and
+repulsive.
+
+Once, in winter, when everything was frozen as hard as a stone, and
+hill and vale lay covered with snow, the woman made a frock of paper,
+called her step-daughter, and said, “Here, put on this dress and go out
+into the wood, and fetch me a little basketful of strawberries,—I have
+a fancy for some.” “Good heavens!” said the girl, “no strawberries grow
+in winter! The ground is frozen, and besides the snow has covered
+everything. And why am I to go in this paper frock? It is so cold
+outside that one’s very breath freezes! The wind will blow through the
+frock, and the thorns will tear it off my body.” “Wilt thou contradict
+me again?” said the stepmother, “See that thou goest, and do not show
+thy face again until thou hast the basketful of strawberries!” Then she
+gave her a little piece of hard bread, and said, “This will last thee
+the day,” and thought, “Thou wilt die of cold and hunger outside, and
+wilt never be seen again by me.”
+
+Then the maiden was obedient, and put on the paper frock, and went out
+with the basket. Far and wide there was nothing but snow, and not a
+green blade to be seen. When she got into the wood she saw a small
+house out of which peeped three dwarfs. She wished them good day, and
+knocked modestly at the door. They cried, “Come in,” and she entered
+the room and seated herself on the bench by the stove, where she began
+to warm herself and eat her breakfast. The elves said, “Give us, too,
+some of it.” “Willingly,” she said, and divided her bit of bread in two
+and gave them the half. They asked, “What dost thou here in the forest
+in the winter time, in thy thin dress?” “Ah,” she answered, “I am to
+look for a basketful of strawberries, and am not to go home until I can
+take them with me.” When she had eaten her bread, they gave her a broom
+and said, “Sweep away the snow at the back door with it.” But when she
+was outside, the three little men said to each other, “What shall we
+give her as she is so good, and has shared her bread with us?” Then
+said the first, “My gift is, that she shall every day grow more
+beautiful.” The second said, “My gift is, that gold pieces shall fall
+out of her mouth every time she speaks.” The third said, “My gift is,
+that a king shall come and take her to wife.”
+
+The girl, however, did as the little men had bidden her, swept away the
+snow behind the little house with the broom, and what did she find but
+real ripe strawberries, which came up quite dark-red out of the snow!
+In her joy she hastily gathered her basket full, thanked the little
+men, shook hands with each of them, and ran home to take her
+step-mother what she had longed for so much. When she went in and said
+good-evening, a piece of gold at once fell from her mouth. Thereupon
+she related what had happened to her in the wood, but with every word
+she spoke, gold pieces fell from her mouth, until very soon the whole
+room was covered with them. “Now look at her arrogance,” cried the
+step-sister, “to throw about gold in that way!” but she was secretly
+envious of it, and wanted to go into the forest also to seek
+strawberries. The mother said, “No, my dear little daughter, it is too
+cold, thou mightest die of cold.” However, as her daughter let her have
+no peace, the mother at last yielded, made her a magnificent dress of
+fur, which she was obliged to put on, and gave her bread-and-butter and
+cake with her.
+
+The girl went into the forest and straight up to the little house. The
+three little elves peeped out again, but she did not greet them, and
+without looking round at them and without speaking to them, she went
+awkwardly into the room, seated herself by the stove, and began to eat
+her bread-and-butter and cake. “Give us some of it,” cried the little
+men; but she replied, “There is not enough for myself, so how can I
+give it away to other people?” When she had done eating, they said,
+“There is a broom for thee, sweep all clean for us outside by the
+back-door.” “Humph! Sweep for yourselves,” she answered, “I am not your
+servant.” When she saw that they were not going to give her anything,
+she went out by the door. Then the little men said to each other, “What
+shall we give her as she is so naughty, and has a wicked envious heart,
+that will never let her do a good turn to any one?” The first said, “I
+grant that she may grow uglier every day.” The second said, “I grant
+that at every word she says, a toad shall spring out of her mouth.” The
+third said, “I grant that she may die a miserable death.” The maiden
+looked for strawberries outside, but as she found none, she went
+angrily home. And when she opened her mouth, and was about to tell her
+mother what had happened to her in the wood, with every word she said,
+a toad sprang out of her mouth, so that every one was seized with
+horror of her.
+
+Then the step-mother was still more enraged, and thought of nothing but
+how to do every possible injury to the man’s daughter, whose beauty,
+however, grew daily greater. At length she took a cauldron, set it on
+the fire, and boiled yarn in it. When it was boiled, she flung it on
+the poor girl’s shoulder, and gave her an axe in order that she might
+go on the frozen river, cut a hole in the ice, and rinse the yarn. She
+was obedient, went thither and cut a hole in the ice; and while she was
+in the midst of her cutting, a splendid carriage came driving up, in
+which sat the King. The carriage stopped, and the King asked,”My child,
+who are thou, and what art thou doing here?” “I am a poor girl, and I
+am rinsing yarn.” Then the King felt compassion, and when he saw that
+she was so very beautiful, he said to her, “Wilt thou go away with me?”
+“Ah, yes, with all my heart,” she answered, for she was glad to get
+away from the mother and sister.
+
+So she got into the carriage and drove away with the King, and when
+they arrived at his palace, the wedding was celebrated with great pomp,
+as the little men had granted to the maiden. When a year was over, the
+young Queen bore a son, and as the step-mother had heard of her great
+good-fortune, she came with her daughter to the palace and pretended
+that she wanted to pay her a visit. Once, however, when the King had
+gone out, and no one else was present, the wicked woman seized the
+Queen by the head, and her daughter seized her by the feet, and they
+lifted her out of the bed, and threw her out of the window into the
+stream which flowed by. Then the ugly daughter laid herself in the bed,
+and the old woman covered her up over her head. When the King came home
+again and wanted to speak to his wife, the old woman cried, “Hush,
+hush, that can’t be now, she is lying in a violent perspiration; you
+must let her rest to-day.” The King suspected no evil, and did not come
+back again till next morning; and as he talked with his wife and she
+answered him, with every word a toad leaped out, whereas formerly a
+piece of gold had fallen out. Then he asked what that could be, but the
+old woman said that she had got that from the violent perspiration, and
+would soon lose it again. During the night, however, the scullion saw a
+duck come swimming up the gutter, and it said,
+
+“King, what art thou doing now?
+Sleepest thou, or wakest thou?”
+
+
+And as he returned no answer, it said,
+
+“And my guests, What may they do?”
+
+
+The scullion said,
+
+“They are sleeping soundly, too.”
+
+
+Then it asked again,
+
+“What does little baby mine?”
+
+
+He answered,
+
+“Sleepeth in her cradle fine.”
+
+
+Then she went upstairs in the form of the Queen, nursed the baby, shook
+up its little bed, covered it over, and then swam away again down the
+gutter in the shape of a duck. She came thus for two nights; on the
+third, she said to the scullion, “Go and tell the King to take his
+sword and swing it three times over me on the threshold.” Then the
+scullion ran and told this to the King, who came with his sword and
+swung it thrice over the spirit, and at the third time, his wife stood
+before him strong, living, and healthy as she had been before.
+Thereupon the King was full of great joy, but he kept the Queen hidden
+in a chamber until the Sunday, when the baby was to be christened. And
+when it was christened he said, “What does a person deserve who drags
+another out of bed and throws him in the water?” “The wretch deserves
+nothing better,” answered the old woman, “than to be taken and put in a
+barrel stuck full of nails, and rolled down hill into the water.”
+“Then,” said the King, “Thou hast pronounced thine own sentence;” and
+he ordered such a barrel to be brought, and the old woman to be put
+into it with her daughter, and then the top was hammered on, and the
+barrel rolled down hill until it went into the river.

content/library/grimm/014_the_three_spinners.txt

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+The Three Spinners
+
+There was once a girl who was idle and would not spin, and let her
+mother say what she would, she could not bring her to it. At last the
+mother was once so overcome with anger and impatience, that she beat
+her, on which the girl began to weep loudly. Now at this very moment
+the Queen drove by, and when she heard the weeping she stopped her
+carriage, went into the house and asked the mother why she was beating
+her daughter so that the cries could be heard out on the road? Then the
+woman was ashamed to reveal the laziness of her daughter and said, “I
+cannot get her to leave off spinning. She insists on spinning for ever
+and ever, and I am poor, and cannot procure the flax.” Then answered
+the Queen, “There is nothing that I like better to hear than spinning,
+and I am never happier than when the wheels are humming. Let me have
+your daughter with me in the palace. I have flax enough, and there she
+shall spin as much as she likes.” The mother was heartily satisfied
+with this, and the Queen took the girl with her. When they had arrived
+at the palace, she led her up into three rooms which were filled from
+the bottom to the top with the finest flax. “Now spin me this flax,”
+said she, “and when thou hast done it, thou shalt have my eldest son
+for a husband, even if thou art poor. I care not for that, thy
+indefatigable industry is dowry enough.” The girl was secretly
+terrified, for she could not have spun the flax, no, not if she had
+lived till she was three hundred years old, and had sat at it every day
+from morning till night. When therefore she was alone, she began to
+weep, and sat thus for three days without moving a finger. On the third
+day came the Queen, and when she saw that nothing had been spun yet,
+she was surprised; but the girl excused herself by saying that she had
+not been able to begin because of her great distress at leaving her
+mother’s house. The queen was satisfied with this, but said when she
+was going away, “To-morrow thou must begin to work.”
+
+When the girl was alone again, she did not know what to do, and in her
+distress went to the window. Then she saw three women coming towards
+her, the first of whom had a broad flat foot, the second had such a
+great underlip that it hung down over her chin, and the third had a
+broad thumb. They remained standing before the window, looked up, and
+asked the girl what was amiss with her? She complained of her trouble,
+and then they offered her their help and said, “If thou wilt invite us
+to the wedding, not be ashamed of us, and wilt call us thine aunts, and
+likewise wilt place us at thy table, we will spin up the flax for thee,
+and that in a very short time.” “With all my heart,” she replied, “do
+but come in and begin the work at once.” Then she let in the three
+strange women, and cleared a place in the first room, where they seated
+themselves and began their spinning. The one drew the thread and trod
+the wheel, the other wetted the thread, the third twisted it, and
+struck the table with her finger, and as often as she struck it, a
+skein of thread fell to the ground that was spun in the finest manner
+possible. The girl concealed the three spinners from the Queen, and
+showed her whenever she came the great quantity of spun thread, until
+the latter could not praise her enough. When the first room was empty
+she went to the second, and at last to the third, and that too was
+quickly cleared. Then the three women took leave and said to the girl,
+“Do not forget what thou hast promised us,—it will make thy fortune.”
+
+When the maiden showed the Queen the empty rooms, and the great heap of
+yarn, she gave orders for the wedding, and the bridegroom rejoiced that
+he was to have such a clever and industrious wife, and praised her
+mightily. “I have three aunts,” said the girl, “and as they have been
+very kind to me, I should not like to forget them in my good fortune;
+allow me to invite them to the wedding, and let them sit with us at
+table.” The Queen and the bridegroom said, “Why should we not allow
+that?” Therefore when the feast began, the three women entered in
+strange apparel, and the bride said, “Welcome, dear aunts.” “Ah,” said
+the bridegroom, “how comest thou by these odious friends?” Thereupon he
+went to the one with the broad flat foot, and said, “How do you come by
+such a broad foot?” “By treading,” she answered, “by treading.” Then
+the bridegroom went to the second, and said, “How do you come by your
+falling lip?” “By licking,” she answered, “by licking.” Then he asked
+the third, “How do you come by your broad thumb?” “By twisting the
+thread,” she answered, “by twisting the thread.” On this the King’s son
+was alarmed and said, “Neither now nor ever shall my beautiful bride
+touch a spinning-wheel.” And thus she got rid of the hateful
+flax-spinning.

content/library/grimm/015_hansel_and_grethel.txt

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+Hansel and Grethel
+
+Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his
+two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Grethel. He had
+little to bite and to break, and once when great scarcity fell on the
+land, he could no longer procure daily bread. Now when he thought over
+this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned
+and said to his wife, “What is to become of us? How are we to feed our
+poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?”
+“I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman, “Early to-morrow
+morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is
+the thickest, there we will light a fire for them, and give each of
+them one piece of bread more, and then we will go to our work and leave
+them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid
+of them.” “No, wife,” said the man, “I will not do that; how can I bear
+to leave my children alone in the forest?—the wild animals would soon
+come and tear them to pieces.” “O, thou fool!” said she, “Then we must
+all four die of hunger, thou mayest as well plane the planks for our
+coffins,” and she left him no peace until he consented. “But I feel
+very sorry for the poor children, all the same,” said the man.
+
+The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had
+heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Grethel wept
+bitter tears, and said to Hansel, “Now all is over with us.” “Be quiet,
+Grethel,” said Hansel, “do not distress thyself, I will soon find a way
+to help us.” And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put
+on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon
+shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house
+glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and put as many of
+them in the little pocket of his coat as he could possibly get in. Then
+he went back and said to Grethel, “Be comforted, dear little sister,
+and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us,” and he lay down again in
+his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came
+and awoke the two children, saying “Get up, you sluggards! we are going
+into the forest to fetch wood.” She gave each a little piece of bread,
+and said, “There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up
+before then, for you will get nothing else.” Grethel took the bread
+under her apron, as Hansel had the stones in his pocket. Then they all
+set out together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short
+time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again
+and again. His father said, “Hansel, what art thou looking at there and
+staying behind for? Mind what thou art about, and do not forget how to
+use thy legs.” “Ah, father,” said Hansel, “I am looking at my little
+white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say good-bye
+to me.” The wife said, “Fool, that is not thy little cat, that is the
+morning sun which is shining on the chimneys.” Hansel, however, had not
+been looking back at the cat, but had been constantly throwing one of
+the white pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road.
+
+When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said, “Now,
+children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not
+be cold.” Hansel and Grethel gathered brushwood together, as high as a
+little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were
+burning very high, the woman said, “Now, children, lay yourselves down
+by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood.
+When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away.”
+
+Hansel and Grethel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a
+little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe
+they believed that their father was near. It was not, however, the axe,
+it was a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind
+was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had been sitting such a
+long time, their eyes shut with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep.
+When at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Grethel began to
+cry and said, “How are we to get out of the forest now?” But Hansel
+comforted her and said, “Just wait a little, until the moon has risen,
+and then we will soon find the way.” And when the full moon had risen,
+Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles
+which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way.
+
+They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more to
+their father’s house. They knocked at the door, and when the woman
+opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Grethel, she said, “You
+naughty children, why have you slept so long in the forest?—we thought
+you were never coming back at all!” The father, however, rejoiced, for
+it had cut him to the heart to leave them behind alone.
+
+Not long afterwards, there was once more great scarcity in all parts,
+and the children heard their mother saying at night to their father,
+“Everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left, and after that
+there is an end. The children must go, we will take them farther into
+the wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no
+other means of saving ourselves!” The man’s heart was heavy, and he
+thought “it would be better for thee to share the last mouthful with
+thy children.” The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had
+to say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B,
+likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a
+second time also.
+
+The children were, however, still awake and had heard the conversation.
+When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go
+out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked
+the door, and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his
+little sister, and said, “Do not cry, Grethel, go to sleep quietly, the
+good God will help us.”
+
+Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their
+beds. Their bit of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller
+than the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in
+his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground.
+“Hansel, why dost thou stop and look round?” said the father, “go on.”
+“I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof,
+and wants to say good-bye to me,” answered Hansel. “Simpleton!” said
+the woman, “that is not thy little pigeon, that is the morning sun that
+is shining on the chimney.” Hansel, however, little by little, threw
+all the crumbs on the path.
+
+The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had
+never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and
+the mother said, “Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired
+you may sleep a little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and
+in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away.” When
+it was noon, Grethel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had
+scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening came and
+went, but no one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it
+was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister and said, “Just
+wait, Grethel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs
+of bread which I have strewn about, they will show us our way home
+again.” When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for
+the many thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had
+picked them all up. Hansel said to Grethel, “We shall soon find the
+way,” but they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the
+next day too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the
+forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or
+three berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that
+their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and
+fell asleep.
+
+It was now three mornings since they had left their father’s house.
+They began to walk again, but they always got deeper into the forest,
+and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness.
+When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a
+bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to
+it. And when it had finished its song, it spread its wings and flew
+away before them, and they followed it until they reached a little
+house, on the roof of which it alighted; and when they came quite up to
+little house they saw that it was built of bread and covered with
+cakes, but that the windows were of clear sugar. “We will set to work
+on that,” said Hansel, “and have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the
+roof, and thou, Grethel, canst eat some of the window, it will taste
+sweet.” Hansel reached up above, and broke off a little of the roof to
+try how it tasted, and Grethel leant against the window and nibbled at
+the panes. Then a soft voice cried from the room,
+
+“Nibble, nibble, gnaw,
+Who is nibbling at my little house?”
+
+
+The children answered,
+
+“The wind, the wind,
+The heaven-born wind,”
+
+
+and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who thought
+the roof tasted very nice, tore down a great piece of it, and Grethel
+pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed
+herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a very, very old woman,
+who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and
+Grethel were so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in
+their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, “Oh,
+you dear children, who has brought you here? Do come in, and stay with
+me. No harm shall happen to you.” She took them both by the hand, and
+led them into her little house. Then good food was set before them,
+milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty
+little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Grethel
+lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven.
+
+The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality a
+wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the
+little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell
+into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast
+day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have
+a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw
+near. When Hansel and Grethel came into her neighborhood, she laughed
+maliciously, and said mockingly, “I have them, they shall not escape me
+again!” Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was
+already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so
+pretty, with their plump red cheeks, she muttered to herself, “That
+will be a dainty mouthful!” Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled
+hand, carried him into a little stable, and shut him in with a grated
+door. He might scream as he liked, that was of no use. Then she went to
+Grethel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, “Get up, lazy thing,
+fetch some water, and cook something good for thy brother, he is in the
+stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.”
+Grethel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain, she was forced
+to do what the wicked witch ordered her.
+
+And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grethel got
+nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little
+stable, and cried, “Hansel, stretch out thy finger that I may feel if
+thou wilt soon be fat.” Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to
+her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought
+it was Hansel’s finger, and was astonished that there was no way of
+fattening him. When four weeks had gone by, and Hansel still continued
+thin, she was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer.
+“Hola, Grethel,” she cried to the girl, “be active, and bring some
+water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook
+him.” Ah, how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch
+the water, and how her tears did flow down over her cheeks! “Dear God,
+do help us,” she cried. “If the wild beasts in the forest had but
+devoured us, we should at any rate have died together.” “Just keep thy
+noise to thyself,” said the old woman, “all that won’t help thee at
+all.”
+
+Early in the morning, Grethel had to go out and hang up the cauldron
+with the water, and light the fire. “We will bake first,” said the old
+woman, “I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough.” She
+pushed poor Grethel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were
+already darting. “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it is properly
+heated, so that we can shut the bread in.” And when once Grethel was
+inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then
+she would eat her, too. But Grethel saw what she had in her mind, and
+said, “I do not know how I am to do it; how do you get in?” “Silly
+goose,” said the old woman, “The door is big enough; just look, I can
+get in myself!” and she crept up and thrust her head into the oven.
+Then Grethel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the
+iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh! then she began to howl quite
+horribly, but Grethel ran away, and the godless witch was miserably
+burnt to death.
+
+Grethel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little
+stable, and cried, “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!” Then
+Hansel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door is opened for
+it. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and
+kiss each other! And as they had no longer any need to fear her, they
+went into the witch’s house, and in every corner there stood chests
+full of pearls and jewels. “These are far better than pebbles!” said
+Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever could be got in, and
+Grethel said, “I, too, will take something home with me,” and filled
+her pinafore full. “But now we will go away.” said Hansel, “that we may
+get out of the witch’s forest.”
+
+When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great piece of
+water. “We cannot get over,” said Hansel, “I see no foot-plank, and no
+bridge.” “And no boat crosses either,” answered Grethel, “but a white
+duck is swimming there; if I ask her, she will help us over.” Then she
+cried,
+
+“Little duck, little duck, dost thou see,
+Hansel and Grethel are waiting for thee?
+There’s never a plank, or bridge in sight,
+Take us across on thy back so white.”
+
+
+The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back, and told
+his sister to sit by him. “No,” replied Grethel, “that will be too
+heavy for the little duck; she shall take us across, one after the
+other.” The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely
+across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more
+and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from afar their
+father’s house. Then they began to run, rushed into the parlour, and
+threw themselves into their father’s arms. The man had not known one
+happy hour since he had left the children in the forest; the woman,
+however, was dead. Grethel emptied her pinafore until pearls and
+precious stones ran about the room, and Hansel threw one handful after
+another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all anxiety was at an
+end, and they lived together in perfect happiness. My tale is done,
+there runs a mouse, whosoever catches it, may make himself a big fur
+cap out of it.

content/library/grimm/016_the_three_snake_leaves.txt

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+The Three Snake-Leaves
+
+There was once on a time a poor man, who could no longer support his
+only son. Then said the son, “Dear father, things go so badly with us
+that I am a burden to you. I would rather go away and see how I can
+earn my bread.” So the father gave him his blessing, and with great
+sorrow took leave of him. At this time the King of a mighty empire was
+at war, and the youth took service with him, and with him went out to
+fight. And when he came before the enemy, there was a battle, and great
+danger, and it rained shot until his comrades fell on all sides, and
+when the leader also was killed, those left were about to take flight,
+but the youth stepped forth, spoke boldly to them, and cried, “We will
+not let our fatherland be ruined!” Then the others followed him, and he
+pressed on and conquered the enemy. When the King heard that he owed
+the victory to him alone, he raised him above all the others, gave him
+great treasures, and made him the first in the kingdom.
+
+The King had a daughter who was very beautiful, but she was also very
+strange. She had made a vow to take no one as her lord and husband who
+did not promise to let himself be buried alive with her if she died
+first. “If he loves me with all his heart,” said she, “of what use will
+life be to him afterwards?” On her side she would do the same, and if
+he died first, would go down to the grave with him. This strange oath
+had up to this time frightened away all wooers, but the youth became so
+charmed with her beauty that he cared for nothing, but asked her father
+for her. “But dost thou know what thou must promise?” said the King. “I
+must be buried with her,” he replied, “if I outlive her, but my love is
+so great that I do not mind the danger.” Then the King consented, and
+the wedding was solemnized with great splendour.
+
+They lived now for a while happy and contented with each other, and
+then it befell that the young Queen was attacked by a severe illness,
+and no physician could save her. And as she lay there dead, the young
+King remembered what he had been obliged to promise, and was horrified
+at having to lie down alive in the grave, but there was no escape. The
+King had placed sentries at all the gates, and it was not possible to
+avoid his fate. When the day came when the corpse was to be buried, he
+was taken down into the royal vault with it and then the door was shut
+and bolted.
+
+Near the coffin stood a table on which were four candles, four loaves
+of bread, and four bottles of wine, and when this provision came to an
+end, he would have to die of hunger. And now he sat there full of pain
+and grief, ate every day only a little piece of bread, drank only a
+mouthful of wine, and nevertheless saw death daily drawing nearer.
+Whilst he thus gazed before him, he saw a snake creep out of a corner
+of the vault and approach the dead body. And as he thought it came to
+gnaw at it, he drew his sword and said, “As long as I live, thou shalt
+not touch her,” and hewed the snake in three pieces. After a time a
+second snake crept out of the hole, and when it saw the other lying
+dead and cut in pieces, it went back, but soon came again with three
+green leaves in its mouth. Then it took the three pieces of the snake,
+laid them together, as they ought to go, and placed one of the leaves
+on each wound. Immediately the severed parts joined themselves
+together, the snake moved, and became alive again, and both of them
+hastened away together. The leaves were left lying on the ground, and a
+desire came into the mind of the unhappy man who had been watching all
+this, to know if the wondrous power of the leaves which had brought the
+snake to life again, could not likewise be of service to a human being.
+So he picked up the leaves and laid one of them on the mouth of his
+dead wife, and the two others on her eyes. And hardly had he done this
+than the blood stirred in her veins, rose into her pale face, and
+coloured it again. Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and said,
+“Ah, God, where am I?” “Thou art with me, dear wife,” he answered, and
+told her how everything had happened, and how he had brought her back
+again to life. Then he gave her some wine and bread, and when she had
+regained her strength, he raised her up and they went to the door and
+knocked, and called so loudly that the sentries heard it, and told the
+King. The King came down himself and opened the door, and there he
+found both strong and well, and rejoiced with them that now all sorrow
+was over. The young King, however, took the three snake-leaves with
+him, gave them to a servant and said, “Keep them for me carefully, and
+carry them constantly about thee; who knows in what trouble they may
+yet be of service to us!”
+
+A change had, however, taken place in his wife; after she had been
+restored to life, it seemed as if all love for her husband had gone out
+of her heart. After some time, when he wanted to make a voyage over the
+sea, to visit his old father, and they had gone on board a ship, she
+forgot the great love and fidelity which he had shown her, and which
+had been the means of rescuing her from death, and conceived a wicked
+inclination for the skipper. And once when the young King lay there
+asleep, she called in the skipper and seized the sleeper by the head,
+and the skipper took him by the feet, and thus they threw him down into
+the sea. When the shameful deed was done, she said, “Now let us return
+home, and say that he died on the way. I will extol and praise thee so
+to my father that he will marry me to thee, and make thee the heir to
+his crown.” But the faithful servant who had seen all that they did,
+unseen by them, unfastened a little boat from the ship, got into it,
+sailed after his master, and let the traitors go on their way. He
+fished up the dead body, and by the help of the three snake-leaves
+which he carried about with him, and laid on the eyes and mouth, he
+fortunately brought the young King back to life.
+
+They both rowed with all their strength day and night, and their little
+boat flew so swiftly that they reached the old King before the others
+did. He was astonished when he saw them come alone, and asked what had
+happened to them. When he learnt the wickedness of his daughter he
+said, “I cannot believe that she has behaved so ill, but the truth will
+soon come to light,” and bade both go into a secret chamber and keep
+themselves hidden from every one. Soon afterwards the great ship came
+sailing in, and the godless woman appeared before her father with a
+troubled countenance. He said, “Why dost thou come back alone? Where is
+thy husband?” “Ah, dear father,” she replied, “I come home again in
+great grief; during the voyage, my husband became suddenly ill and
+died, and if the good skipper had not given me his help, it would have
+gone ill with me. He was present at his death, and can tell you all.”
+The King said, “I will make the dead alive again,” and opened the
+chamber, and bade the two come out. When the woman saw her husband, she
+was thunderstruck, and fell on her knees and begged for mercy. The King
+said, “There is no mercy. He was ready to die with thee and restored
+thee to life again, but thou hast murdered him in his sleep, and shalt
+receive the reward that thou deservest.” Then she was placed with her
+accomplice in a ship which had been pierced with holes, and sent out to
+sea, where they soon sank amid the waves.

content/library/grimm/017_the_white_snake.txt

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+The White Snake
+
+A long time ago there lived a king who was famed for his wisdom through
+all the land. Nothing was hidden from him, and it seemed as if news of
+the most secret things was brought to him through the air. But he had a
+strange custom; every day after dinner, when the table was cleared, and
+no one else was present, a trusty servant had to bring him one more
+dish. It was covered, however, and even the servant did not know what
+was in it, neither did anyone know, for the King never took off the
+cover to eat of it until he was quite alone.
+
+This had gone on for a long time, when one day the servant, who took
+away the dish, was overcome with such curiosity that he could not help
+carrying the dish into his room. When he had carefully locked the door,
+he lifted up the cover, and saw a white snake lying on the dish. But
+when he saw it he could not deny himself the pleasure of tasting it, so
+he cut off a little bit and put it into his mouth. No sooner had it
+touched his tongue than he heard a strange whispering of little voices
+outside his window. He went and listened, and then noticed that it was
+the sparrows who were chattering together, and telling one another of
+all kinds of things which they had seen in the fields and woods. Eating
+the snake had given him power of understanding the language of animals.
+
+Now it so happened that on this very day the Queen lost her most
+beautiful ring, and suspicion of having stolen it fell upon this trusty
+servant, who was allowed to go everywhere. The King ordered the man to
+be brought before him, and threatened with angry words that unless he
+could before the morrow point out the thief, he himself should be
+looked upon as guilty and executed. In vain he declared his innocence;
+he was dismissed with no better answer.
+
+In his trouble and fear he went down into the courtyard and took
+thought how to help himself out of his trouble. Now some ducks were
+sitting together quietly by a brook and taking their rest; and, whilst
+they were making their feathers smooth with their bills, they were
+having a confidential conversation together. The servant stood by and
+listened. They were telling one another of all the places where they
+had been waddling about all the morning, and what good food they had
+found, and one said in a pitiful tone, “Something lies heavy on my
+stomach; as I was eating in haste I swallowed a ring which lay under
+the Queen’s window.” The servant at once seized her by the neck,
+carried her to the kitchen, and said to the cook, “Here is a fine duck;
+pray, kill her.” “Yes,” said the cook, and weighed her in his hand;
+“she has spared no trouble to fatten herself, and has been waiting to
+be roasted long enough.” So he cut off her head, and as she was being
+dressed for the spit, the Queen’s ring was found inside her.
+
+The servant could now easily prove his innocence; and the King, to make
+amends for the wrong, allowed him to ask a favor, and promised him the
+best place in the court that he could wish for. The servant refused
+everything, and only asked for a horse and some money for traveling, as
+he had a mind to see the world and go about a little.
+
+When his request was granted he set out on his way, and one day came to
+a pond, where he saw three fishes caught in the reeds and gasping for
+water. Now, though it is said that fishes are dumb, he heard them
+lamenting that they must perish so miserably, and, as he had a kind
+heart, he got off his horse and put the three prisoners back into the
+water. They quivered with delight, put out their heads, and cried to
+him, “We will remember you and repay you for saving us!”
+
+He rode on, and after a while it seemed to him that he heard a voice in
+the sand at his feet. He listened, and heard an ant-king complain, “Why
+cannot folks, with their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies? That
+stupid horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my people
+without mercy!” So he turned on to a side path and the ant-king cried
+out to him, “We will remember you—one good turn deserves another!”
+
+The path led him into a wood, and here he saw two old ravens standing
+by their nest, and throwing out their young ones. “Out with you, you
+idle, good-for-nothing creatures!” cried they; “we cannot find food for
+you any longer; you are big enough, and can provide for yourselves.”
+But the poor young ravens lay upon the ground, flapping their wings,
+and crying, “Oh, what helpless chicks we are! We must shift for
+ourselves, and yet we cannot fly! What can we do, but lie here and
+starve?” So the good young fellow alighted and killed his horse with
+his sword, and gave it to them for food. Then they came hopping up to
+it, satisfied their hunger, and cried, “We will remember you—one good
+turn deserves another!”
+
+And now he had to use his own legs, and when he had walked a long way,
+he came to a large city. There was a great noise and crowd in the
+streets, and a man rode up on horseback, crying aloud, “The King’s
+daughter wants a husband; but whoever sues for her hand must perform a
+hard task, and if he does not succeed he will forfeit his life.” Many
+had already made the attempt, but in vain; nevertheless when the youth
+saw the King’s daughter he was so overcome by her great beauty that he
+forgot all danger, went before the King, and declared himself a suitor.
+
+So he was led out to the sea, and a gold ring was thrown into it, in
+his sight; then the King ordered him to fetch this ring up from the
+bottom of the sea, and added, “If you come up again without it you will
+be thrown in again and again until you perish amid the waves.” All the
+people grieved for the handsome youth; then they went away, leaving him
+alone by the sea.
+
+He stood on the shore and considered what he should do, when suddenly
+he saw three fishes come swimming towards him, and they were the very
+fishes whose lives he had saved. The one in the middle held a mussel in
+its mouth, which it laid on the shore at the youth’s feet, and when he
+had taken it up and opened it, there lay the gold ring in the shell.
+Full of joy he took it to the King, and expected that he would grant
+him the promised reward.
+
+But when the proud princess perceived that he was not her equal in
+birth, she scorned him, and required him first to perform another task.
+She went down into the garden and strewed with her own hands ten
+sacks-full of millet-seed on the grass; then she said, “To-morrow
+morning before sunrise these must be picked up, and not a single grain
+be wanting.”
+
+The youth sat down in the garden and considered how it might be
+possible to perform this task, but he could think of nothing, and there
+he sat sorrowfully awaiting the break of day, when he should be led to
+death. But as soon as the first rays of the sun shone into the garden
+he saw all the ten sacks standing side by side, quite full, and not a
+single grain was missing. The ant-king had come in the night with
+thousands and thousands of ants, and the grateful creatures had by
+great industry picked up all the millet-seed and gathered them into the
+sacks.
+
+Presently the King’s daughter herself came down into the garden, and
+was amazed to see that the young man had done the task she had given
+him. But she could not yet conquer her proud heart, and said, “Although
+he has performed both the tasks, he shall not be my husband until he
+has brought me an apple from the Tree of Life.”
+
+The youth did not know where the Tree of Life stood, but he set out,
+and would have gone on for ever, as long as his legs would carry him,
+though he had no hope of finding it. After he had wandered through
+three kingdoms, he came one evening to a wood, and lay down under a
+tree to sleep. But he heard a rustling in the branches, and a golden
+apple fell into his hand. At the same time three ravens flew down to
+him, perched themselves upon his knee, and said, “We are the three
+young ravens whom you saved from starving; when we had grown big, and
+heard that you were seeking the Golden Apple, we flew over the sea to
+the end of the world, where the Tree of Life stands, and have brought
+you the apple.” The youth, full of joy, set out homewards, and took the
+Golden Apple to the King’s beautiful daughter, who had no more excuses
+left to make. They cut the Apple of Life in two and ate it together;
+and then her heart became full of love for him, and they lived in
+undisturbed happiness to a great age.

content/library/grimm/018_the_straw_the_coal_and_the_bean.txt

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+The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean
+
+In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a dish
+of beans and wanted to cook them. So she made a fire on her hearth, and
+that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw.
+When she was emptying the beans into the pan, one dropped without her
+observing it, and lay on the ground beside a straw, and soon afterwards
+a burning coal from the fire leapt down to the two. Then the straw
+began and said, “Dear friends, from whence do you come here?” The coal
+replied, “I fortunately sprang out of the fire, and if I had not
+escaped by main force, my death would have been certain,—I should have
+been burnt to ashes.” The bean said, “I too have escaped with a whole
+skin, but if the old woman had got me into the pan, I should have been
+made into broth without any mercy, like my comrades.” “And would a
+better fate have fallen to my lot?” said the straw. “The old woman has
+destroyed all my brethren in fire and smoke; she seized sixty of them
+at once, and took their lives. I luckily slipped through her fingers.”
+
+“But what are we to do now?” said the coal.
+
+“I think,” answered the bean, “that as we have so fortunately escaped
+death, we should keep together like good companions, and lest a new
+mischance should overtake us here, we should go away together, and
+repair to a foreign country.”
+
+The proposition pleased the two others, and they set out on their way
+in company. Soon, however, they came to a little brook, and as there
+was no bridge or foot-plank, they did not know how they were to get
+over it. The straw hit on a good idea, and said, “I will lay myself
+straight across, and then you can walk over on me as on a bridge.” The
+straw therefore stretched itself from one bank to the other, and the
+coal, who was of an impetuous disposition, tripped quite boldly on to
+the newly-built bridge. But when she had reached the middle, and heard
+the water rushing beneath her, she was, after all, afraid, and stood
+still, and ventured no farther. The straw, however, began to burn,
+broke in two pieces, and fell into the stream. The coal slipped after
+her, hissed when she got into the water, and breathed her last. The
+bean, who had prudently stayed behind on the shore, could not but laugh
+at the event, was unable to stop, and laughed so heartily that she
+burst. It would have been all over with her, likewise, if, by good
+fortune, a tailor who was traveling in search of work, had not sat down
+to rest by the brook. As he had a compassionate heart he pulled out his
+needle and thread, and sewed her together. The bean thanked him most
+prettily, but as the tailor used black thread, all beans since then
+have a black seam.

content/library/grimm/019_the_fisherman_and_his_wife.txt

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+The Fisherman and His Wife
+
+There was once on a time a Fisherman who lived with his wife in a
+miserable hovel close by the sea, and every day he went out fishing.
+And once as he was sitting with his rod, looking at the clear water,
+his line suddenly went down, far down below, and when he drew it up
+again he brought out a large Flounder. Then the Flounder said to him,
+“Hark, you Fisherman, I pray you, let me live, I am no Flounder really,
+but an enchanted prince. What good will it do you to kill me? I should
+not be good to eat, put me in the water again, and let me go.” “Come,”
+said the Fisherman, “there is no need for so many words about it—a fish
+that can talk I should certainly let go, anyhow,” with that he put him
+back again into the clear water, and the Flounder went to the bottom,
+leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the Fisherman got up
+and went home to his wife in the hovel.
+
+“Husband,” said the woman, “have you caught nothing to-day?” “No,” said
+the man, “I did catch a Flounder, who said he was an enchanted prince,
+so I let him go again.” “Did you not wish for anything first?” said the
+woman. “No,” said the man; “what should I wish for?” “Ah,” said the
+woman, “it is surely hard to have to live always in this dirty hovel;
+you might have wished for a small cottage for us. Go back and call him.
+Tell him we want to have a small cottage, he will certainly give us
+that.” “Ah,” said the man, “why should I go there again?” “Why,” said
+the woman, “you did catch him, and you let him go again; he is sure to
+do it. Go at once.” The man still did not quite like to go, but did not
+like to oppose his wife, and went to the sea.
+
+When he got there the sea was all green and yellow, and no longer so
+smooth; so he stood still and said,
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will.”
+
+
+Then the Flounder came swimming to him and said, “Well what does she
+want, then?” “Ah,” said the man, “I did catch you, and my wife says I
+really ought to have wished for something. She does not like to live in
+a wretched hovel any longer. She would like to have a cottage.” “Go,
+then,” said the Flounder, “she has it already.”
+
+When the man went home, his wife was no longer in the hovel, but
+instead of it there stood a small cottage, and she was sitting on a
+bench before the door. Then she took him by the hand and said to him,
+“Just come inside, look, now isn’t this a great deal better?” So they
+went in, and there was a small porch, and a pretty little parlor and
+bedroom, and a kitchen and pantry, with the best of furniture, and
+fitted up with the most beautiful things made of tin and brass,
+whatsoever was wanted. And behind the cottage there was a small yard,
+with hens and ducks, and a little garden with flowers and fruit.
+“Look,” said the wife, “is not that nice!” “Yes,” said the husband,
+“and so we must always think it,—now we will live quite contented.” “We
+will think about that,” said the wife. With that they ate something and
+went to bed.
+
+Everything went well for a week or a fortnight, and then the woman
+said, “Hark you, husband, this cottage is far too small for us, and the
+garden and yard are little; the Flounder might just as well have given
+us a larger house. I should like to live in a great stone castle; go to
+the Flounder, and tell him to give us a castle.” “Ah, wife,” said the
+man, “the cottage is quite good enough; why should we live in a
+castle?” “What!” said the woman; “just go there, the Flounder can
+always do that.” “No, wife,” said the man, “the Flounder has just given
+us the cottage, I do not like to go back so soon, it might make him
+angry.” “Go,” said the woman, “he can do it quite easily, and will be
+glad to do it; just you go to him.”
+
+The man’s heart grew heavy, and he would not go. He said to himself,
+“It is not right,” and yet he went. And when he came to the sea the
+water was quite purple and dark-blue, and grey and thick, and no longer
+so green and yellow, but it was still quiet. And he stood there and
+said—
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will.”
+
+
+“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the
+man, half scared, “she wants to live in a great stone castle.” “Go to
+it, then, she is standing before the door,” said the Flounder.
+
+Then the man went away, intending to go home, but when he got there, he
+found a great stone palace, and his wife was just standing on the steps
+going in, and she took him by the hand and said, “Come in.” So he went
+in with her, and in the castle was a great hall paved with marble, and
+many servants, who flung wide the doors; And the walls were all bright
+with beautiful hangings, and in the rooms were chairs and tables of
+pure gold, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and all the
+rooms and bed-rooms had carpets, and food and wine of the very best
+were standing on all the tables, so that they nearly broke down beneath
+it. Behind the house, too, there was a great court-yard, with stables
+for horses and cows, and the very best of carriages; there was a
+magnificent large garden, too, with the most beautiful flowers and
+fruit-trees, and a park quite half a mile long, in which were stags,
+deer, and hares, and everything that could be desired. “Come,” said the
+woman, “isn’t that beautiful?” “Yes, indeed,” said the man, “now let it
+be; and we will live in this beautiful castle and be content.” “We will
+consider about that,” said the woman, “and sleep upon it;” thereupon
+they went to bed.
+
+Next morning the wife awoke first, and it was just daybreak, and from
+her bed she saw the beautiful country lying before her. Her husband was
+still stretching himself, so she poked him in the side with her elbow,
+and said, “Get up, husband, and just peep out of the window. Look you,
+couldn’t we be the King over all that land? Go to the Flounder, we will
+be the King.” “Ah, wife,” said the man, “why should we be King? I do
+not want to be King.” “Well,” said the wife, “if you won’t be King, I
+will; go to the Flounder, for I will be King.” “Ah, wife,” said the
+man, “why do you want to be King? I do not like to say that to him.”
+“Why not?” said the woman; “go to him this instant; I must be King!” So
+the man went, and was quite unhappy because his wife wished to be King.
+“It is not right; it is not right,” thought he. He did not wish to go,
+but yet he went.
+
+And when he came to the sea, it was quite dark-grey, and the water
+heaved up from below, and smelt putrid. Then he went and stood by it,
+and said,
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will”
+
+
+“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the
+man, “she wants to be King.” “Go to her; she is King already.”
+
+So the man went, and when he came to the palace, the castle had become
+much larger, and had a great tower and magnificent ornaments, and the
+sentinel was standing before the door, and there were numbers of
+soldiers with kettle-drums and trumpets. And when he went inside the
+house, everything was of real marble and gold, with velvet covers and
+great golden tassels. Then the doors of the hall were opened, and there
+was the court in all its splendour, and his wife was sitting on a high
+throne of gold and diamonds, with a great crown of gold on her head,
+and a sceptre of pure gold and jewels in her hand, and on both sides of
+her stood her maids-in-waiting in a row, each of them always one head
+shorter than the last.
+
+Then he went and stood before her, and said, “Ah, wife, and now you are
+King.” “Yes,” said the woman, “now I am King.” So he stood and looked
+at her, and when he had looked at her thus for some time, he said, “And
+now that you are King, let all else be, now we will wish for nothing
+more.” “Nay, husband,” said the woman, quite anxiously, “I find time
+pass very heavily, I can bear it no longer; go to the Flounder—I am
+King, but I must be Emperor, too.” “Alas, wife, why do you wish to be
+Emperor?” “Husband,” said she, “go to the Flounder. I will be Emperor.”
+“Alas, wife,” said the man, “he cannot make you Emperor; I may not say
+that to the fish. There is only one Emperor in the land. An Emperor the
+Flounder cannot make you! I assure you he cannot.”
+
+“What!” said the woman, “I am the King, and you are nothing but my
+husband; will you go this moment? go at once! If he can make a King he
+can make an emperor. I will be Emperor; go instantly.” So he was forced
+to go. As the man went, however, he was troubled in mind, and thought
+to himself, “It will not end well; it will not end well! Emperor is too
+shameless! The Flounder will at last be tired out.”
+
+With that he reached the sea, and the sea was quite black and thick,
+and began to boil up from below, so that it threw up bubbles, and such
+a sharp wind blew over it that it curdled, and the man was afraid. Then
+he went and stood by it, and said,
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will.”
+
+
+“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas, Flounder,”
+said he, “my wife wants to be Emperor.” “Go to her,” said the Flounder;
+“she is Emperor already.”
+
+So the man went, and when he got there the whole palace was made of
+polished marble with alabaster figures and golden ornaments, and
+soldiers were marching before the door blowing trumpets, and beating
+cymbals and drums; and in the house, barons, and counts, and dukes were
+going about as servants. Then they opened the doors to him, which were
+of pure gold. And when he entered, there sat his wife on a throne,
+which was made of one piece of gold, and was quite two miles high; and
+she wore a great golden crown that was three yards high, and set with
+diamonds and carbuncles, and in one hand she had the sceptre, and in
+the other the imperial orb; and on both sides of her stood the yeomen
+of the guard in two rows, each being smaller than the one before him,
+from the biggest giant, who was two miles high, to the very smallest
+dwarf, just as big as my little finger. And before it stood a number of
+princes and dukes.
+
+Then the man went and stood among them, and said, “Wife, are you
+Emperor now?” “Yes,” said she, “now I am Emperor.” Then he stood and
+looked at her well, and when he had looked at her thus for some time,
+he said, “Ah, wife, be content, now that you are Emperor.” “Husband,”
+said she, “why are you standing there? Now, I am Emperor, but I will be
+Pope too; go to the Flounder.” “Alas, wife,” said the man, “what will
+you not wish for? You cannot be Pope. There is but one in Christendom.
+He cannot make you Pope.” “Husband,” said she, “I will be Pope; go
+immediately, I must be Pope this very day.” “No, wife,” said the man,
+“I do not like to say that to him; that would not do, it is too much;
+the Flounder can’t make you Pope.” “Husband,” said she, “what nonsense!
+If he can make an emperor he can make a pope. Go to him directly. I am
+Emperor, and you are nothing but my husband; will you go at once?”
+
+Then he was afraid and went; but he was quite faint, and shivered and
+shook, and his knees and legs trembled. And a high wind blew over the
+land, and the clouds flew, and towards evening all grew dark, and the
+leaves fell from the trees, and the water rose and roared as if it were
+boiling, and splashed upon the shore. And in the distance he saw ships
+which were firing guns in their sore need, pitching and tossing on the
+waves. And yet in the midst of the sky there was still a small bit of
+blue, though on every side it was as red as in a heavy storm. So, full
+of despair, he went and stood in much fear and said,
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;”
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will.
+
+
+“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said the
+man, “she wants to be Pope.” “Go to her then,” said the Flounder; “she
+is Pope already.”
+
+So he went, and when he got there, he saw what seemed to be a large
+church surrounded by palaces. He pushed his way through the crowd.
+Inside, however, everything was lighted up with thousands and thousands
+of candles, and his wife was clad in gold, and she was sitting on a
+much higher throne, and had three great golden crowns on, and round
+about her there was much ecclesiastical splendour; and on both sides of
+her was a row of candles the largest of which was as tall as the very
+tallest tower, down to the very smallest kitchen candle, and all the
+emperors and kings were on their knees before her, kissing her shoe.
+“Wife,” said the man, and looked attentively at her, “are you now
+Pope?” “Yes,” said she, “I am Pope.” So he stood and looked at her, and
+it was just as if he was looking at the bright sun. When he had stood
+looking at her thus for a short time, he said, “Ah, wife, if you are
+Pope, do let well alone!” But she looked as stiff as a post, and did
+not move or show any signs of life. Then said he, “Wife, now that you
+are Pope, be satisfied, you cannot become anything greater now.” “I
+will consider about that,” said the woman. Thereupon they both went to
+bed, but she was not satisfied, and greediness let her have no sleep,
+for she was continually thinking what there was left for her to be.
+
+The man slept well and soundly, for he had run about a great deal
+during the day; but the woman could not fall asleep at all, and flung
+herself from one side to the other the whole night through, thinking
+always what more was left for her to be, but unable to call to mind
+anything else. At length the sun began to rise, and when the woman saw
+the red of dawn, she sat up in bed and looked at it. And when, through
+the window, she saw the sun thus rising, she said, “Cannot I, too,
+order the sun and moon to rise?” “Husband,” she said, poking him in the
+ribs with her elbows, “wake up! go to the Flounder, for I wish to be
+even as God is.” The man was still half asleep, but he was so horrified
+that he fell out of bed. He thought he must have heard amiss, and
+rubbed his eyes, and said, “Alas, wife, what are you saying?”
+“Husband,” said she, “if I can’t order the sun and moon to rise, and
+have to look on and see the sun and moon rising, I can’t bear it. I
+shall not know what it is to have another happy hour, unless I can make
+them rise myself.” Then she looked at him so terribly that a shudder
+ran over him, and said, “Go at once; I wish to be like unto God.”
+“Alas, wife,” said the man, falling on his knees before her, “the
+Flounder cannot do that; he can make an emperor and a pope; I beseech
+you, go on as you are, and be Pope.” Then she fell into a rage, and her
+hair flew wildly about her head, and she cried, “I will not endure
+this, I’ll not bear it any longer; wilt thou go?” Then he put on his
+trousers and ran away like a madman. But outside a great storm was
+raging, and blowing so hard that he could scarcely keep his feet;
+houses and trees toppled over, the mountains trembled, rocks rolled
+into the sea, the sky was pitch black, and it thundered and lightened,
+and the sea came in with black waves as high as church-towers and
+mountains, and all with crests of white foam at the top. Then he cried,
+but could not hear his own words,
+
+“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
+Come, I pray thee, here to me;
+For my wife, good Ilsabil,
+Wills not as I’d have her will.”
+
+
+“Well, what does she want, then?” said the Flounder. “Alas,” said he,
+“she wants to be like unto God.” “Go to her, and you will find her back
+again in the dirty hovel.” And there they are living still at this very
+time.

content/library/grimm/020_the_valiant_little_tailor.txt

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+The Valiant Little Tailor
+
+One summer’s morning a little tailor was sitting on his table by the
+window; he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his might. Then came
+a peasant woman down the street crying, “Good jams, cheap! Good jams,
+cheap!” This rang pleasantly in the tailor’s ears; he stretched his
+delicate head out of the window, and called, “Come up here, dear woman;
+here you will get rid of your goods.” The woman came up the three steps
+to the tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack the whole
+of the pots for him. He inspected all of them, lifted them up, put his
+nose to them, and at length said, “The jam seems to me to be good, so
+weigh me out four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound
+that is of no consequence.” The woman who had hoped to find a good
+sale, gave him what he desired, but went away quite angry and
+grumbling. “Now, God bless the jam to my use,” cried the little tailor,
+“and give me health and strength;” so he brought the bread out of the
+cupboard, cut himself a piece right across the loaf and spread the jam
+over it. “This won’t taste bitter,” said he, “but I will just finish
+the jacket before I take a bite.” He laid the bread near him, sewed on,
+and in his joy, made bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the
+smell of the sweet jam ascended so to the wall, where the flies were
+sitting in great numbers, that they were attracted and descended on it
+in hosts. “Hola! who invited you?” said the little tailor, and drove
+the unbidden guests away. The flies, however, who understood no German,
+would not be turned away, but came back again in ever-increasing
+companies. The little tailor at last lost all patience, and got a bit
+of cloth from the hole under his work-table, and saying, “Wait, and I
+will give it to you,” struck it mercilessly on them. When he drew it
+away and counted, there lay before him no fewer than seven, dead and
+with legs stretched out. “Art thou a fellow of that sort?” said he, and
+could not help admiring his own bravery. “The whole town shall know of
+this!” And the little tailor hastened to cut himself a girdle, stitched
+it, and embroidered on it in large letters, “Seven at one stroke!”
+“What, the town!” he continued, “The whole world shall hear of it!” and
+his heart wagged with joy like a lamb’s tail. The tailor put on the
+girdle, and resolved to go forth into the world, because he thought his
+workshop was too small for his valour. Before he went away, he sought
+about in the house to see if there was anything which he could take
+with him; however, he found nothing but an old cheese, and that he put
+in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a bird which had caught
+itself in the thicket. It had to go into his pocket with the cheese.
+Now he took to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, he felt
+no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and when he had reached the
+highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking about him quite
+comfortably. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said,
+“Good day, comrade, so thou art sitting there overlooking the
+wide-spread world! I am just on my way thither, and want to try my
+luck. Hast thou any inclination to go with me?” The giant looked
+contemptuously at the tailor, and said, “Thou ragamuffin! Thou
+miserable creature!”
+
+“Oh, indeed?” answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and
+showed the giant the girdle, “There mayst thou read what kind of a man
+I am!” The giant read, “Seven at one stroke,” and thought that they had
+been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a little respect
+for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to try him first, and took
+a stone in his hand and squeezed it together so that water dropped out
+of it. “Do that likewise,” said the giant, “if thou hast strength?” “Is
+that all?” said the tailor, “that is child’s play with us!” and put his
+hand into his pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until
+the liquid ran out of it. “Faith,” said he, “that was a little better,
+wasn’t it?” The giant did not know what to say, and could not believe
+it of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so
+high that the eye could scarcely follow it. “Now, little mite of a man,
+do that likewise.” “Well thrown,” said the tailor, “but after all the
+stone came down to earth again; I will throw you one which shall never
+come back at all.” And he put his hand into his pocket, took out the
+bird, and threw it into the air. The bird, delighted with its liberty,
+rose, flew away and did not come back. “How does that shot please you,
+comrade?” asked the tailor. “Thou canst certainly throw,” said the
+giant, “but now we will see if thou art able to carry anything
+properly.” He took the little tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay
+there felled on the ground, and said, “If thou art strong enough, help
+me to carry the tree out of the forest.” “Readily,” answered the little
+man; “take thou the trunk on thy shoulders, and I will raise up the
+branches and twigs; after all, they are the heaviest.” The giant took
+the trunk on his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch,
+and the giant who could not look round, had to carry away the whole
+tree, and the little tailor into the bargain: he behind, was quite
+merry and happy, and whistled the song, “Three tailors rode forth from
+the gate,” as if carrying the tree were child’s play. The giant, after
+he had dragged the heavy burden part of the way, could go no further,
+and cried, “Hark you, I shall have to let the tree fall!” The tailor
+sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with both arms as if he had been
+carrying it, and said to the giant, “Thou art such a great fellow, and
+yet canst not even carry the tree!”
+
+They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant laid
+hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it
+down, gave it into the tailor’s hand, and bade him eat. But the little
+tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it
+go, it sprang back again, and the tailor was hurried into the air with
+it. When he had fallen down again without injury, the giant said, “What
+is this? Hast thou not strength enough to hold the weak twig?” “There
+is no lack of strength,” answered the little tailor. “Dost thou think
+that could be anything to a man who has struck down seven at one blow?
+I leapt over the tree because the huntsmen are shooting down there in
+the thicket. Jump as I did, if thou canst do it.” The giant made the
+attempt, but could not get over the tree, and remained hanging in the
+branches, so that in this also the tailor kept the upper hand.
+
+The giant said, “If thou art such a valiant fellow, come with me into
+our cavern and spend the night with us.” The little tailor was willing,
+and followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were
+sitting there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep in his
+hand and was eating it. The little tailor looked round and thought, “It
+is much more spacious here than in my workshop.” The giant showed him a
+bed, and said he was to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was
+too big for the little tailor; he did not lie down in it, but crept
+into a corner. When it was midnight, and the giant thought that the
+little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great iron
+bar, cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had given the
+grasshopper his finishing stroke. With the earliest dawn the giants
+went into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when
+all at once he walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The giants
+were terrified, they were afraid that he would strike them all dead,
+and ran away in a great hurry.
+
+The little tailor went onwards, always following his own pointed nose.
+After he had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a
+royal palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell
+asleep. Whilst he lay there, the people came and inspected him on all
+sides, and read on his girdle, “Seven at one stroke.” “Ah,” said they,
+“What does the great warrior here in the midst of peace? He must be a
+mighty lord.” They went and announced him to the King, and gave it as
+their opinion that if war should break out, this would be a weighty and
+useful man who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The counsel
+pleased the King, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor
+to offer him military service when he awoke. The ambassador remained
+standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and opened
+his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. “For this very reason
+have I come here,” the tailor replied, “I am ready to enter the King’s
+service.” He was therefore honorably received and a special dwelling
+was assigned him.
+
+The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and wished
+him a thousand miles away. “What is to be the end of this?” they said
+amongst themselves. “If we quarrel with him, and he strikes about him,
+seven of us will fall at every blow; not one of us can stand against
+him.” They came therefore to a decision, betook themselves in a body to
+the King, and begged for their dismissal. “We are not prepared,” said
+they, “to stay with a man who kills seven at one stroke.” The King was
+sorry that for the sake of one he should lose all his faithful
+servants, wished that he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would
+willingly have been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give
+him his dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all his
+people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about it
+for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He sent to the little
+tailor and caused him to be informed that as he was such a great
+warrior, he had one request to make to him. In a forest of his country
+lived two giants who caused great mischief with their robbing,
+murdering, ravaging, and burning, and no one could approach them
+without putting himself in danger of death. If the tailor conquered and
+killed these two giants, he would give him his only daughter to wife,
+and half of his kingdom as a dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen
+should go with him to assist him. “That would indeed be a fine thing
+for a man like me!” thought the little tailor. “One is not offered a
+beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one’s life!” “Oh,
+yes,” he replied, “I will soon subdue the giants, and do not require
+the help of the hundred horsemen to do it; he who can hit seven with
+one blow has no need to be afraid of two.”
+
+The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed him.
+When he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to his followers,
+“Just stay waiting here, I alone will soon finish off the giants.” Then
+he bounded into the forest and looked about right and left. After a
+while he perceived both giants. They lay sleeping under a tree, and
+snored so that the branches waved up and down. The little tailor, not
+idle, gathered two pocketsful of stones, and with these climbed up the
+tree. When he was half-way up, he slipped down by a branch, until he
+sat just above the sleepers, and then let one stone after another fall
+on the breast of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt
+nothing, but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, “Why art
+thou knocking me?” “Thou must be dreaming,” said the other, “I am not
+knocking thee.” They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the
+tailor threw a stone down on the second. “What is the meaning of this?”
+cried the other. “Why art thou pelting me?” “I am not pelting thee,”
+answered the first, growling. They disputed about it for a time, but as
+they were weary they let the matter rest, and their eyes closed once
+more. The little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest
+stone, and threw it with all his might on the breast of the first
+giant. “That is too bad!” cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and
+pushed his companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid
+him back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore
+up trees and belabored each other so long, that at last they both fell
+down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt
+down. “It is a lucky thing,” said he, “that they did not tear up the
+tree on which I was sitting, or I should have had to spring on to
+another like a squirrel; but we tailors are nimble.” He drew out his
+sword and gave each of them a couple of thrusts in the breast, and then
+went out to the horsemen and said, “The work is done; I have given both
+of them their finishing stroke, but it was hard work! They tore up
+trees in their sore need, and defended themselves with them, but all
+that is to no purpose when a man like myself comes, who can kill seven
+at one blow.” “But are you not wounded?” asked the horsemen. “You need
+not concern yourself about that,” answered the tailor, “They have not
+bent one hair of mine.” The horsemen would not believe him, and rode
+into the forest; there they found the giants swimming in their blood,
+and all round about lay the torn-up trees.
+
+The little tailor demanded of the King the promised reward; he,
+however, repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how he
+could get rid of the hero. “Before thou receivest my daughter, and the
+half of my kingdom,” said he to him, “thou must perform one more heroic
+deed. In the forest roams a unicorn which does great harm, and thou
+must catch it first.” “I fear one unicorn still less than two giants.
+Seven at one blow, is my kind of affair.” He took a rope and an axe
+with him, went forth into the forest, and again bade those who were
+sent with him to wait outside. He had to seek long. The unicorn soon
+came towards him, and rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would
+spit him on his horn without more ceremony. “Softly, softly; it can’t
+be done as quickly as that,” said he, and stood still and waited until
+the animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The
+unicorn ran against the tree with all its strength, and struck its horn
+so fast in the trunk that it had not strength enough to draw it out
+again, and thus it was caught. “Now, I have got the bird,” said the
+tailor, and came out from behind the tree and put the rope round its
+neck, and then with his axe he hewed the horn out of the tree, and when
+all was ready he led the beast away and took it to the King.
+
+The King still would not give him the promised reward, and made a third
+demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a wild boar that
+made great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen should give him their
+help. “Willingly,” said the tailor, “that is child’s play!” He did not
+take the huntsmen with him into the forest, and they were well pleased
+that he did not, for the wild boar had several times received them in
+such a manner that they had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When
+the boar perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and
+whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the active
+hero sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to the window at once,
+and in one bound out again. The boar ran in after him, but the tailor
+ran round outside and shut the door behind it, and then the raging
+beast, which was much too heavy and awkward to leap out of the window,
+was caught. The little tailor called the huntsmen thither that they
+might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however went to
+the King, who was now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep his
+promise, and gave him his daughter and the half of his kingdom. Had he
+known that it was no warlike hero, but a little tailor who was standing
+before him, it would have gone to his heart still more than it did. The
+wedding was held with great magnificence and small joy, and out of a
+tailor a king was made.
+
+After some time the young Queen heard her husband say in his dreams at
+night, “Boy, make me the doublet, and patch the pantaloons, or else I
+will rap the yard-measure over thine ears.” Then she discovered in what
+state of life the young lord had been born, and next morning complained
+of her wrongs to her father, and begged him to help her to get rid of
+her husband, who was nothing else but a tailor. The King comforted her
+and said, “Leave thy bed-room door open this night, and my servants
+shall stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in, bind
+him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him into the wide
+world.” The woman was satisfied with this; but the King’s
+armour-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young lord, and
+informed him of the whole plot. “I’ll put a screw into that business,”
+said the little tailor. At night he went to bed with his wife at the
+usual time, and when she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up,
+opened the door, and then lay down again. The little tailor, who was
+only pretending to be asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, “Boy,
+make me the doublet and patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the
+yard-measure over thine ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two
+giants, I brought away one unicorn and caught a wild boar, and am I to
+fear those who are standing outside the room.” When these men heard the
+tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by a great dread, and ran as
+if the wild huntsman were behind them, and none of them would venture
+anything further against him. So the little tailor was a king and
+remained one, to the end of his life.

content/library/grimm/021_cinderella.txt

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+Cinderella
+
+The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end was
+drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said,
+“Dear child, be good and pious, and then the good God will always
+protect thee, and I will look down on thee from heaven and be near
+thee.” Thereupon she closed her eyes and departed. Every day the maiden
+went out to her mother’s grave, and wept, and she remained pious and
+good. When winter came the snow spread a white sheet over the grave,
+and when the spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken
+another wife.
+
+The woman had brought two daughters into the house with her, who were
+beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of heart. Now began a
+bad time for the poor step-child. “Is the stupid goose to sit in the
+parlour with us?” said they. “He who wants to eat bread must earn it;
+out with the kitchen-wench.” They took her pretty clothes away from
+her, put an old grey bedgown on her, and gave her wooden shoes. “Just
+look at the proud princess, how decked out she is!” they cried, and
+laughed, and led her into the kitchen. There she had to do hard work
+from morning till night, get up before daybreak, carry water, light
+fires, cook and wash. Besides this, the sisters did her every
+imaginable injury—they mocked her and emptied her peas and lentils into
+the ashes, so that she was forced to sit and pick them out again. In
+the evening when she had worked till she was weary she had no bed to go
+to, but had to sleep by the fireside in the ashes. And as on that
+account she always looked dusty and dirty, they called her Cinderella.
+It happened that the father was once going to the fair, and he asked
+his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them. “Beautiful
+dresses,” said one, “Pearls and jewels,” said the second. “And thou,
+Cinderella,” said he, “what wilt thou have?” “Father, break off for me
+the first branch which knocks against your hat on your way home.” So he
+bought beautiful dresses, pearls and jewels for his two step-daughters,
+and on his way home, as he was riding through a green thicket, a hazel
+twig brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the
+branch and took it with him. When he reached home he gave his
+step-daughters the things which they had wished for, and to Cinderella
+he gave the branch from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him, went to
+her mother’s grave and planted the branch on it, and wept so much that
+the tears fell down on it and watered it. And it grew, however, and
+became a handsome tree. Thrice a day Cinderella went and sat beneath
+it, and wept and prayed, and a little white bird always came on the
+tree, and if Cinderella expressed a wish, the bird threw down to her
+what she had wished for.
+
+It happened, however, that the King appointed a festival which was to
+last three days, and to which all the beautiful young girls in the
+country were invited, in order that his son might choose himself a
+bride. When the two step-sisters heard that they too were to appear
+among the number, they were delighted, called Cinderella and said,
+“Comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten our buckles, for we
+are going to the festival at the King’s palace.” Cinderella obeyed, but
+wept, because she too would have liked to go with them to the dance,
+and begged her step-mother to allow her to do so. “Thou go,
+Cinderella!” said she; “Thou art dusty and dirty and wouldst go to the
+festival? Thou hast no clothes and shoes, and yet wouldst dance!” As,
+however, Cinderella went on asking, the step-mother at last said, “I
+have emptied a dish of lentils into the ashes for thee, if thou hast
+picked them out again in two hours, thou shalt go with us.” The maiden
+went through the back-door into the garden, and called, “You tame
+pigeons, you turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and
+help me to pick
+
+“The good into the pot,
+The bad into the crop.”
+
+
+Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards
+the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds beneath the sky, came
+whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the
+pigeons nodded with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and
+the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good
+grains into the dish. Hardly had one hour passed before they had
+finished, and all flew out again. Then the girl took the dish to her
+step-mother, and was glad, and believed that now she would be allowed
+to go with them to the festival. But the step-mother said, “No,
+Cinderella, thou hast no clothes and thou canst not dance; thou wouldst
+only be laughed at.” And as Cinderella wept at this, the step-mother
+said, “If thou canst pick two dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me
+in one hour, thou shalt go with us.” And she thought to herself, “That
+she most certainly cannot do.” When the step-mother had emptied the two
+dishes of lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the
+back-door into the garden and cried, You tame pigeons, you
+turtle-doves, and all you birds under heaven, come and help me to pick
+
+“The good into the pot,
+The bad into the crop.”
+
+
+Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards
+the turtle-doves, and at length all the birds beneath the sky, came
+whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the doves
+nodded with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and the
+others began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good
+seeds into the dishes, and before half an hour was over they had
+already finished, and all flew out again. Then the maiden carried the
+dishes to the step-mother and was delighted, and believed that she
+might now go with them to the festival. But the step-mother said, “All
+this will not help thee; thou goest not with us, for thou hast no
+clothes and canst not dance; we should be ashamed of thee!” On this she
+turned her back on Cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud
+daughters.
+
+As no one was now at home, Cinderella went to her mother’s grave
+beneath the hazel-tree, and cried,
+
+“Shiver and quiver, little tree,
+Silver and gold throw down over me.”
+
+
+Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and slippers
+embroidered with silk and silver. She put on the dress with all speed,
+and went to the festival. Her step-sisters and the step-mother however
+did not know her, and thought she must be a foreign princess, for she
+looked so beautiful in the golden dress. They never once thought of
+Cinderella, and believed that she was sitting at home in the dirt,
+picking lentils out of the ashes. The prince went to meet her, took her
+by the hand and danced with her. He would dance with no other maiden,
+and never left loose of her hand, and if any one else came to invite
+her, he said, “This is my partner.”
+
+She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home. But the
+King’s son said, “I will go with thee and bear thee company,” for he
+wished to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. She escaped from
+him, however, and sprang into the pigeon-house. The King’s son waited
+until her father came, and then he told him that the stranger maiden
+had leapt into the pigeon-house. The old man thought, “Can it be
+Cinderella?” and they had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he
+might hew the pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it. And
+when they got home Cinderella lay in her dirty clothes among the ashes,
+and a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the mantle-piece, for
+Cinderella had jumped quickly down from the back of the pigeon-house
+and had run to the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken off her
+beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken
+them away again, and then she had placed herself in the kitchen amongst
+the ashes in her grey gown.
+
+Next day when the festival began afresh, and her parents and the
+step-sisters had gone once more, Cinderella went to the hazel-tree and
+said—
+
+“Shiver and quiver, my little tree,
+Silver and gold throw down over me.”
+
+
+Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on the
+preceding day. And when Cinderella appeared at the festival in this
+dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The King’s son had
+waited until she came, and instantly took her by the hand and danced
+with no one but her. When others came and invited her, he said, “She is
+my partner.” When evening came she wished to leave, and the King’s son
+followed her and wanted to see into which house she went. But she
+sprang away from him, and into the garden behind the house. Therein
+stood a beautiful tall tree on which hung the most magnificent pears.
+She clambered so nimbly between the branches like a squirrel that the
+King’s son did not know where she was gone. He waited until her father
+came, and said to him, “The stranger-maiden has escaped from me, and I
+believe she has climbed up the pear-tree.” The father thought, “Can it
+be Cinderella?” and had an axe brought and cut the tree down, but no
+one was on it. And when they got into the kitchen, Cinderella lay there
+amongst the ashes, as usual, for she had jumped down on the other side
+of the tree, had taken the beautiful dress to the bird on the little
+hazel-tree, and put on her grey gown.
+
+On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away,
+Cinderella went once more to her mother’s grave and said to the little
+tree—
+
+“Shiver and quiver, my little tree,
+Silver and gold throw down over me.”
+
+
+And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was more splendid and
+magnificent than any she had yet had, and the slippers were golden. And
+when she went to the festival in the dress, no one knew how to speak
+for astonishment. The King’s son danced with her only, and if any one
+invited her to dance, he said, “She is my partner.”
+
+When evening came, Cinderella wished to leave, and the King’s son was
+anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so quickly that he
+could not follow her. The King’s son had, however, used a strategem,
+and had caused the whole staircase to be smeared with pitch, and there,
+when she ran down, had the maiden’s left slipper remained sticking. The
+King’s son picked it up, and it was small and dainty, and all golden.
+Next morning, he went with it to the father, and said to him, “No one
+shall be my wife but she whose foot this golden slipper fits.” Then
+were the two sisters glad, for they had pretty feet. The eldest went
+with the shoe into her room and wanted to try it on, and her mother
+stood by. But she could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe was
+too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, “Cut the
+toe off; when thou art Queen thou wilt have no more need to go on
+foot.” The maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the shoe,
+swallowed the pain, and went out to the King’s son. Then he took her on
+his horse as his bride and rode away with her. They were, however,
+obliged to pass the grave, and there, on the hazel-tree, sat the two
+pigeons and cried,
+
+“Turn and peep, turn and peep,
+There’s blood within the shoe,
+The shoe it is too small for her,
+The true bride waits for you.”
+
+
+Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from it.
+He turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, and said
+she was not the true one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe
+on. Then this one went into her chamber and got her toes safely into
+the shoe, but her heel was too large. So her mother gave her a knife
+and said, “Cut a bit off thy heel; when thou art Queen thou wilt have
+no more need to go on foot.” The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced
+her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the King’s
+son. He took her on his horse as his bride, and rode away with her, but
+when they passed by the hazel-tree, two little pigeons sat on it and
+cried,
+
+“Turn and peep, turn and peep,
+There’s blood within the shoe
+The shoe it is too small for her,
+The true bride waits for you.”
+
+
+He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running out of her
+shoe, and how it had stained her white stocking. Then he turned his
+horse and took the false bride home again. “This also is not the right
+one,” said he, “have you no other daughter?” “No,” said the man, “There
+is still a little stunted kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind
+her, but she cannot possibly be the bride.” The King’s son said he was
+to send her up to him; but the mother answered, “Oh, no, she is much
+too dirty, she cannot show herself!” He absolutely insisted on it, and
+Cinderella had to be called. She first washed her hands and face clean,
+and then went and bowed down before the King’s son, who gave her the
+golden shoe. Then she seated herself on a stool, drew her foot out of
+the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted like a
+glove. And when she rose up and the King’s son looked at her face he
+recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with him and cried,
+“That is the true bride!” The step-mother and the two sisters were
+terrified and became pale with rage; he, however, took Cinderella on
+his horse and rode away with her. As they passed by the hazel-tree, the
+two white doves cried—
+
+“Turn and peep, turn and peep,
+No blood is in the shoe,
+The shoe is not too small for her,
+The true bride rides with you,”
+
+
+and when they had cried that, the two came flying down and placed
+themselves on Cinderella’s shoulders, one on the right, the other on
+the left, and remained sitting there.
+
+When the wedding with the King’s son had to be celebrated, the two
+false sisters came and wanted to get into favour with Cinderella and
+share her good fortune. When the betrothed couple went to church, the
+elder was at the right side and the younger at the left, and the
+pigeons pecked out one eye of each of them. Afterwards as they came
+back, the elder was at the left, and the younger at the right, and then
+the pigeons pecked out the other eye of each. And thus, for their
+wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness as long as
+they lived.

content/library/grimm/022_the_riddle.txt

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+The Riddle
+
+There was once a King’s son who was seized with a desire to travel
+about the world, and took no one with him but a faithful servant. One
+day he came to a great forest, and when darkness overtook him he could
+find no shelter, and knew not where to pass the night. Then he saw a
+girl who was going towards a small house, and when he came nearer, he
+saw that the maiden was young and beautiful. He spoke to her, and said,
+“Dear child, can I and my servant find shelter for the night in the
+little house?” “Oh, yes,” said the girl in a sad voice, “that you
+certainly can, but I do not advise you to venture it. Do not go in.”
+“Why not?” asked the King’s son. The maiden sighed and said, “My
+step-mother practises wicked arts; she is ill-disposed toward
+strangers.” Then he saw very well that he had come to the house of a
+witch, but as it was dark, and he could not go farther, and also was
+not afraid, he entered. The old woman was sitting in an armchair by the
+fire, and looked at the stranger with her red eyes. “Good evening,”
+growled she, and pretended to be quite friendly. “Take a seat and rest
+yourselves.” She blew up the fire on which she was cooking something in
+a small pot. The daughter warned the two to be prudent, to eat nothing,
+and drink nothing, for the old woman brewed evil drinks. They slept
+quietly until early morning. When they were making ready for their
+departure, and the King’s son was already seated on his horse, the old
+woman said, “Stop a moment, I will first hand you a parting draught.”
+Whilst she fetched it, the King’s son rode away, and the servant who
+had to buckle his saddle tight, was the only one present when the
+wicked witch came with the drink. “Take that to your master,” said she.
+But at that instant the glass broke and the poison spirted on the
+horse, and it was so strong that the animal immediately fell down dead.
+The servant ran after his master and told him what had happened, but
+would not leave his saddle behind him, and ran back to fetch it. When,
+however, he came to the dead horse a raven was already sitting on it
+devouring it. “Who knows whether we shall find anything better to-day?”
+said the servant; so he killed the raven, and took it with him. And now
+they journeyed onwards into the forest the whole day, but could not get
+out of it. By nightfall they found an inn and entered it. The servant
+gave the raven to the innkeeper to make ready for supper. They had,
+however, stumbled on a den of murderers, and during the darkness twelve
+of these came, intending to kill the strangers and rob them. Before
+they set about this work, they sat down to supper, and the innkeeper
+and the witch sat down with them, and together they ate a dish of soup
+in which was cut up the flesh of the raven. Hardly, however, had they
+swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, before they all fell down dead, for
+the raven had communicated to them the poison from the horse-flesh.
+There was no no one else left in the house but the innkeeper’s
+daughter, who was honest, and had taken no part in their godless deeds.
+She opened all doors to the stranger and showed him the heaped-up
+treasures. But the King’s son said she might keep everything, he would
+have none of it, and rode onwards with his servant.
+
+After they had traveled about for a long time, they came to a town in
+which was a beautiful but proud princess, who had caused it to be
+proclaimed that whosoever should set her a riddle which she could not
+guess, that man should be her husband; but if she guessed it, his head
+must be cut off. She had three days to guess it in, but was so clever
+that she always found the answer to the riddle given her, before the
+appointed time. Nine suitors had already perished in this manner, when
+the King’s son arrived, and blinded by her great beauty, was willing to
+stake his life for it. Then he went to her and laid his riddle before
+her. “What is this?” said he, “One slew none, and yet slew twelve.” She
+did not know what that was, she thought and thought, but she could not
+find out, she opened her riddle-books, but it was not in them—in short,
+her wisdom was at an end. As she did not know how to help herself, she
+ordered her maid to creep into the lord’s sleeping-chamber, and listen
+to his dreams, and thought that he would perhaps speak in his sleep and
+discover the riddle. But the clever servant had placed himself in the
+bed instead of his master, and when the maid came there, he tore off
+from her the mantle in which she had wrapped herself, and chased her
+out with rods. The second night the King’s daughter sent her
+maid-in-waiting, who was to see if she could succeed better in
+listening, but the servant took her mantle also away from her, and
+hunted her out with rods. Now the master believed himself safe for the
+third night, and lay down in his own bed. Then came the princess
+herself, and she had put on a misty-grey mantle, and she seated herself
+near him. And when she thought that he was asleep and dreaming, she
+spoke to him, and hoped that he would answer in his sleep, as many do,
+but he was awake, and understood and heard everything quite well. Then
+she asked, “One slew none, what is that?” He replied, “A raven, which
+ate of a dead and poisoned horse, and died of it.” She inquired
+further, “And yet slew twelve, what is that?” He answered, “That means
+twelve murderers, who ate the raven and died of it.”
+
+When she knew the answer to the riddle she wanted to steal away, but he
+held her mantle so fast that she was forced to leave it behind her.
+Next morning, the King’s daughter announced that she had guessed the
+riddle, and sent for the twelve judges and expounded it before them.
+But the youth begged for a hearing, and said, “She stole into my room
+in the night and questioned me, otherwise she could not have discovered
+it.” The judges said, “Bring us a proof of this.” Then were the three
+mantles brought thither by the servant, and when the judges saw the
+misty-grey one which the King’s daughter usually wore, they said, “Let
+the mantle be embroidered with gold and silver, and then it will be
+your wedding-mantle.

content/library/grimm/023_the_mouse_the_bird_and_the_sausage.txt

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+The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage
+
+Once on a time a mouse, a bird, and a sausage became companions, kept
+house together, lived well and happily with each other, and wonderfully
+increased their possessions. The bird’s work was to fly every day into
+the forest and bring back wood. The mouse had to carry water, light the
+fire, and lay the table, but the sausage had to cook.
+
+He who is too well off is always longing for something new. One day,
+therefore, the bird met with another bird, on the way, to whom it
+related its excellent circumstances and boasted of them. The other
+bird, however, called it a poor simpleton for his hard work, but said
+that the two at home had good times. For when the mouse had made her
+fire and carried her water, she went into her little room to rest until
+they called her to lay the table. The sausage stayed by the pot, saw
+that the food was cooking well, and, when it was nearly time for
+dinner, it rolled itself once or twice through the broth or vegetables
+and then they were buttered, salted, and ready. When the bird came home
+and laid his burden down, they sat down to dinner, and after they had
+had their meal, they slept their fill till next morning, and that was a
+splendid life.
+
+Next day the bird, prompted by the other bird, would go no more into
+the wood, saying that he had been servant long enough, and had been
+made a fool of by them, and that they must change about for once, and
+try to arrange it in another way. And, though the mouse and the sausage
+also begged most earnestly, the bird would have his way, and said it
+must be tried. They cast lots about it, and the lot fell on the sausage
+who was to carry wood, the mouse became cook, and the bird was to fetch
+water.
+
+What happened? The little sausage went out towards the wood, the little
+bird lighted the fire, the mouse stayed by the pot and waited alone
+until little sausage came home and brought wood for next day. But the
+little sausage stayed so long on the road that they both feared
+something was amiss, and the bird flew out a little way in the air to
+meet it. Not far off, however, it met a dog on the road who had fallen
+on the poor sausage as lawful booty, and had seized and swallowed it.
+The bird charged the dog with an act of barefaced robbery, but it was
+in vain to speak, for the dog said he had found forged letters on the
+sausage, on which account its life was forfeited to him.
+
+The bird sadly took up the wood, flew home, and related what he had
+seen and heard. They were much troubled, but agreed to do their best
+and remain together. The bird therefore laid the cloth, and the mouse
+made ready the food, and wanted to dress it, and to get into the pot as
+the sausage used to do, and roll and creep amongst the vegetables to
+mix them; but before she got into the midst of them she was stopped,
+and lost her skin and hair and life in the attempt.
+
+When the bird came to carry up the dinner, no cook was there. In its
+distress the bird threw the wood here and there, called and searched,
+but no cook was to be found! Owing to his carelessness the wood caught
+fire, so that a conflagration ensued, the bird hastened to fetch water,
+and then the bucket dropped from his claws into the well, and he fell
+down with it, and could not recover himself, but had to drown there.

content/library/grimm/024_mother_holle.txt

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+Mother Holle
+
+There was once a widow who had two daughters—one of whom was pretty and
+industrious, whilst the other was ugly and idle. But she was much
+fonder of the ugly and idle one, because she was her own daughter; and
+the other, who was a step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and
+be the Cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a
+well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.
+
+Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her blood, so
+she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off; but it dropped out of
+her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her
+step-mother and told her of the mishap. But she scolded her sharply,
+and was so merciless as to say, “Since you have let the shuttle fall
+in, you must fetch it out again.”
+
+So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do; and in
+the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the shuttle.
+She lost her senses; and when she awoke and came to herself again, she
+was in a lovely meadow where the sun was shining and many thousands of
+flowers were growing. Along this meadow she went, and at last came to a
+baker’s oven full of bread, and the bread cried out, “Oh, take me out!
+take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long time!” So she
+went up to it, and took out all the loaves one after another with the
+bread-shovel. After that she went on till she came to a tree covered
+with apples, which called out to her, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we
+apples are all ripe!” So she shook the tree till the apples fell like
+rain, and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had
+gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.
+
+At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman peeped;
+but she had such large teeth that the girl was frightened, and was
+about to run away.
+
+But the old woman called out to her, “What are you afraid of, dear
+child? Stay with me; if you will do all the work in the house properly,
+you shall be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed
+well, and shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly—for then there is
+snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.
+
+As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage and
+agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the
+satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously
+that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a pleasant
+life with her; never an angry word; and boiled or roast meat every day.
+
+She stayed some time with Mother Holle, and then she became sad. At
+first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found at
+length that it was home-sickness: although she was many thousand times
+better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be there. At
+last she said to the old woman, “I have a longing for home; and however
+well off I am down here, I cannot stay any longer; I must go up again
+to my own people.” Mother Holle said, “I am pleased that you long for
+your home again, and as you have served me so truly, I myself will take
+you up again.” Thereupon she took her by the hand, and led her to a
+large door. The door was opened, and just as the maiden was standing
+beneath the doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the
+gold remained sticking to her, so that she was completely covered over
+with it.
+
+“You shall have that because you have been so industrious,” said Mother
+Holle, and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle which she had
+let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed, and the maiden found
+herself up above upon the earth, not far from her mother’s house.
+
+And as she went into the yard the cock was standing by the well-side,
+and cried—
+
+“Cock-a-doodle-doo!
+Your golden girl’s come back to you!”
+
+
+So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with
+gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister.
+
+The girl told all that had happened to her; and as soon as the mother
+heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very anxious to
+obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter. She had to
+seat herself by the well and spin; and in order that her shuttle might
+be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn bush and pricked
+her finger. Then she threw her shuttle into the well, and jumped in
+after it.
+
+She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked along the
+very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again cried, “Oh,
+take me out! take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long
+time!” But the lazy thing answered, “As if I had any wish to make
+myself dirty?” and on she went. Soon she came to the apple-tree, which
+cried, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples are all ripe!” But she
+answered, “I like that! one of you might fall on my head,” and so went
+on.
+
+When she came to Mother Holle’s house she was not afraid, for she had
+already heard of her big teeth, and she hired herself to her
+immediately.
+
+The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed Mother
+Holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking of all the
+gold that she would give her. But on the second day she began to be
+lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then she would not get up
+in the morning at all. Neither did she make Mother Holle’s bed as she
+ought, and did not shake it so as to make the feathers fly up. Mother
+Holle was soon tired of this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy
+girl was willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden rain
+would come. Mother Holle led her also to the great door; but while she
+was standing beneath it, instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch
+was emptied over her. “That is the reward for your service,” said
+Mother Holle, and shut the door.
+
+So the lazy girl went home; but she was quite covered with pitch, and
+the cock by the well-side, as soon as he saw her, cried out—
+
+“Cock-a-doodle-doo!
+Your pitchy girl’s come back to you!”
+
+
+But the pitch stuck fast to her, and could not be got off as long as
+she lived.

content/library/grimm/025_the_seven_ravens.txt

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+The Seven Ravens
+
+There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had no daughter,
+however much he wished for one. At length his wife again gave him hope
+of a child, and when it came into the world it was a girl. The joy was
+great, but the child was sickly and small, and had to be privately
+baptized on account of its weakness. The father sent one of the boys in
+haste to the spring to fetch water for the baptism. The other six went
+with him, and as each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug
+fell into the well. There they stood and did not know what to do, and
+none of them dared to go home. As they still did not return, the father
+grew impatient, and said, “They have certainly forgotten it for some
+game, the wicked boys!” He became afraid that the girl would have to
+die without being baptized, and in his anger cried, “I wish the boys
+were all turned into ravens.” Hardly was the word spoken before he
+heard a whirring of wings over his head in the air, looked up and saw
+seven coal-black ravens flying away. The parents could not recall the
+curse, and however sad they were at the loss of their seven sons, they
+still to some extent comforted themselves with their dear little
+daughter, who soon grew strong and every day became more beautiful. For
+a long time she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents
+were careful not to mention them before her, but one day she
+accidentally heard some people saying of herself, “that the girl was
+certainly beautiful, but that in reality she was to blame for the
+misfortune which had befallen her seven brothers.” Then she was much
+troubled, and went to her father and mother and asked if it was true
+that she had had brothers, and what had become of them? The parents now
+dared keep the secret no longer, but said that what had befallen her
+brothers was the will of Heaven, and that her birth had only been the
+innocent cause. But the maiden took it to heart daily, and thought she
+must deliver her brothers. She had no rest or peace until she set out
+secretly, and went forth into the wide world to trace out her brothers
+and set them free, let it cost what it might. She took nothing with her
+but a little ring belonging to her parents as a keepsake, a loaf of
+bread against hunger, a little pitcher of water against thirst, and a
+little chair as a provision against weariness.
+
+And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of the
+world. Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and
+devoured little children. Hastily she ran away, and ran to the moon,
+but it was far too cold, and also awful and malicious, and when it saw
+the child, it said, “I smell, I smell the flesh of men.” On this she
+ran swiftly away, and came to the stars, which were kind and good to
+her, and each of them sat on its own particular little chair. But the
+morning star arose, and gave her the drumstick of a chicken, and said,
+“If you thou hast not that drumstick thou canst not open the Glass
+mountain, and in the Glass mountain are thy brothers.”
+
+The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a cloth, and
+went onwards again until she came to the Glass mountain. The door was
+shut, and she thought she would take out the drumstick; but when she
+undid the cloth, it was empty, and she had lost the good star’s
+present. What was she now to do? She wished to rescue her brothers, and
+had no key to the Glass mountain. The good sister took a knife, cut off
+one of her little fingers, put it in the door, and succeeded in opening
+it. When she had gone inside, a little dwarf came to meet her, who
+said, “My child, what are you looking for?” “I am looking for my
+brothers, the seven ravens,” she replied. The dwarf said, “The lord
+ravens are not at home, but if you will wait here until they come, step
+in.” Thereupon the little dwarf carried the ravens’ dinner in, on seven
+little plates, and in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a
+morsel from each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip, but
+in the last little glass she dropped the ring which she had brought
+away with her.
+
+Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing through the air,
+and then the little dwarf said, “Now the lord ravens are flying home.”
+Then they came, and wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their
+little plates and glasses. Then said one after the other, “Who has
+eaten something from my plate? Who has drunk out of my little glass? It
+was a human mouth.” And when the seventh came to the bottom of the
+glass, the ring rolled against his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw
+that it was a ring belonging to his father and mother, and said, “God
+grant that our sister may be here, and then we shall be free.” When the
+maiden, who was standing behind the door watching, heard that wish, she
+came forth, and on this all the ravens were restored to their human
+form again. And they embraced and kissed each other, and went joyfully
+home.

content/library/grimm/026_little_red_cap.txt

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+Little Red-Cap
+
+Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by every
+one who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there
+was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave
+her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would
+never wear anything else; so she was always called “Little Red-Cap.”
+
+One day her mother said to her, “Come, Little Red-Cap, here is a piece
+of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill
+and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and
+when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the
+path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother
+will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don’t forget to say,
+‘Good-morning,’ and don’t peep into every corner before you do it.”
+
+“I will take great care,” said Little Red-Cap to her mother, and gave
+her hand on it.
+
+The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village,
+and just as Little Red-Cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-Cap
+did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid
+of him.
+
+“Good-day, Little Red-Cap,” said he.
+
+“Thank you kindly, wolf.”
+
+“Whither away so early, Little Red-Cap?”
+
+“To my grandmother’s.”
+
+“What have you got in your apron?”
+
+“Cake and wine; yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is
+to have something good, to make her stronger.”
+
+“Where does your grandmother live, Little Red-Cap?”
+
+“A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands
+under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below; you
+surely must know it,” replied Little Red-Cap.
+
+The wolf thought to himself, “What a tender young creature! what a nice
+plump mouthful—she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act
+craftily, so as to catch both.” So he walked for a short time by the
+side of Little Red-Cap, and then he said, “See Little Red-Cap, how
+pretty the flowers are about here—why do you not look round? I believe,
+too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing; you
+walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything
+else out here in the wood is merry.”
+
+Little Red-Cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing
+here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers growing
+everywhere, she thought, “Suppose I take grandmother a fresh nosegay;
+that would please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still
+get there in good time;” and so she ran from the path into the wood to
+look for flowers. And whenever she had picked one, she fancied that she
+saw a still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got
+deeper and deeper into the wood.
+
+Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and knocked
+at the door.
+
+“Who is there?”
+
+“Little Red-Cap,” replied the wolf. “She is bringing cake and wine;
+open the door.”
+
+“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and
+cannot get up.”
+
+The wolf lifted the latch, the door flew open, and without saying a
+word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then
+he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed
+and drew the curtains.
+
+Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and
+when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she
+remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her.
+
+She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she
+went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to
+herself, “Oh dear! how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like
+being with grandmother so much.” She called out, “Good morning,” but
+received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains.
+There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and
+looking very strange.
+
+“Oh! grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have!”
+
+“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.
+
+“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said.
+
+“The better to see you with, my dear.”
+
+“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!”
+
+“The better to hug you with.”
+
+“Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!”
+
+“The better to eat you with!”
+
+And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of
+bed and swallowed up Red-Cap.
+
+When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed,
+fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing
+the house, and thought to himself, “How the old woman is snoring! I
+must just see if she wants anything.” So he went into the room, and
+when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. “Do I
+find thee here, thou old sinner!” said he. “I have long sought thee!”
+Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the
+wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be
+saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to
+cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips,
+he saw the little Red-Cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and
+the little girl sprang out, crying, “Ah, how frightened I have been!
+How dark it was inside the wolf;” and after that the aged grandmother
+came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red-Cap, however,
+quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s body,
+and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy
+that he fell down at once, and fell dead.
+
+Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s skin
+and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine
+which Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to herself,
+“As long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into
+the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.”
+
+                            * * * * * * *
+
+It is also related that once when Red-Cap was again taking cakes to the
+old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her
+from the path. Red-Cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight
+forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the wolf,
+and that he had said “good-morning” to her, but with such a wicked look
+in his eyes, that if they had not been on the public road she was
+certain he would have eaten her up. “Well,” said the grandmother, “we
+will shut the door, that he may not come in.” Soon afterwards the wolf
+knocked, and cried, “Open the door, grandmother, I am little Red-Cap,
+and am fetching you some cakes.” But they did not speak, or open the
+door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at
+last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until Red-Cap went home in
+the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the
+darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In front of
+the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the child, “Take the
+pail, Red-Cap; I made some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in
+which I boiled them to the trough.” Red-Cap carried until the great
+trough was quite full. Then the smell of the sausages reached the wolf,
+and he sniffed and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck so
+far that he could no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and
+slipped down from the roof straight into the great trough, and was
+drowned. But Red-Cap went joyously home, and never did anything to harm
+any one.

content/library/grimm/027_the_bremen_town_musicians.txt

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+The Bremen Town-Musicians
+
+A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the
+mill indefatigably for many a long year; but his strength was going,
+and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began
+to consider how he might best save his keep; but the donkey, seeing
+that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to
+Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely be town-musician.” When he
+had walked some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping
+like one who had run till he was tired. “What are you gasping so for,
+you big fellow?” asked the donkey.
+
+“Ah,” replied the hound, “as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no
+longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to flight; but
+now how am I to earn my bread?”
+
+“I tell you what,” said the donkey, “I am going to Bremen, and shall be
+town-musician there; go with me and engage yourself also as a musician.
+I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.”
+
+The hound agreed, and on they went.
+
+Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like
+three rainy days! “Now then, old shaver, what has gone askew with you?”
+asked the donkey.
+
+“Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat.
+“Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I
+prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice,
+my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is
+scarce. Where am I to go?”
+
+“Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a
+town-musician.”
+
+The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three
+fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting upon the
+gate, crowing with all his might. “Your crow goes through and through
+one,” said the donkey. “What is the matter?”
+
+“I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on which
+Our Lady washes the Christ-child’s little shirts, and wants to dry
+them,” said the cock; “but guests are coming for Sunday, so the
+housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that she intends to eat me
+in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off.
+Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can.”
+
+“Ah, but red-comb,” said the donkey, “you had better come away with us.
+We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death
+everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it
+must have some quality!”
+
+The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could
+not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening
+they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey
+and the hound laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the
+cock settled themselves in the branches; but the cock flew right to the
+top, where he was most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on
+all four sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark
+burning; so he called out to his companions that there must be a house
+not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, “If so, we had better
+get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad.” The hound thought that
+a few bones with some meat on would do him good too!
+
+So they made their way to the place where the light was, and soon saw
+it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to a well-lighted
+robber’s house. The donkey, as the biggest, went to the window and
+looked in.
+
+“What do you see, my grey-horse?” asked the cock. “What do I see?”
+answered the donkey; “a table covered with good things to eat and
+drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.” “That would be
+the sort of thing for us,” said the cock. “Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we
+were there!” said the donkey.
+
+Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage to drive
+away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan. The donkey was to
+place himself with his fore-feet upon the window-ledge, the hound was
+to jump on the donkey’s back, the cat was to climb upon the dog, and
+lastly the cock was to fly up and perch upon the head of the cat.
+
+When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform their
+music together: the donkey brayed, the hound barked, the cat mewed, and
+the cock crowed; then they burst through the window into the room, so
+that the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers sprang up,
+thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had come in, and fled in a
+great fright out into the forest. The four companions now sat down at
+the table, well content with what was left, and ate as if they were
+going to fast for a month.
+
+As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light, and
+each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his nature and to
+what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the
+yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near the warm
+ashes, and the cock perched himself upon a beam of the roof; and being
+tired from their long walk, they soon went to sleep.
+
+When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that the light
+was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared quiet, the
+captain said, “We ought not to have let ourselves be frightened out of
+our wits;” and ordered one of them to go and examine the house.
+
+The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light a
+candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for live
+coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But the cat did not
+understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He
+was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door, but the dog, who
+lay there sprang up and bit his leg; and as he ran across the yard by
+the straw-heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot.
+The cock, too, who had been awakened by the noise, and had become
+lively, cried down from the beam, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
+
+Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and said,
+“Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who spat on me and
+scratched my face with her long claws; and by the door stands a man
+with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg; and in the yard there lies a
+black monster, who beat me with a wooden club; and above, upon the
+roof, sits the judge, who called out, ‘Bring the rogue here to me!’ so
+I got away as well as I could.”
+
+After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the house again; but
+it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care
+to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who last told this story is
+still warm.

content/library/grimm/028_the_singing_bone.txt

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+The Singing Bone
+
+In a certain country there was once great lamentation over a wild boar
+that laid waste the farmer’s fields, killed the cattle, and ripped up
+people’s bodies with his tusks. The King promised a large reward to
+anyone who would free the land from this plague; but the beast was so
+big and strong that no one dared to go near the forest in which it
+lived. At last the King gave notice that whosoever should capture or
+kill the wild boar should have his only daughter to wife.
+
+Now there lived in the country two brothers, sons of a poor man, who
+declared themselves willing to undertake the hazardous enterprise; the
+elder, who was crafty and shrewd, out of pride; the younger, who was
+innocent and simple, from a kind heart. The King said, “In order that
+you may be the more sure of finding the beast, you must go into the
+forest from opposite sides.” So the elder went in on the west side, and
+the younger on the east.
+
+When the younger had gone a short way, a little man stepped up to him.
+He held in his hand a black spear and said, “I give you this spear
+because your heart is pure and good; with this you can boldly attack
+the wild boar, and it will do you no harm.”
+
+He thanked the little man, shouldered the spear, and went on
+fearlessly.
+
+Before long he saw the beast, which rushed at him; but he held the
+spear towards it, and in its blind fury it ran so swiftly against it
+that its heart was cloven in twain. Then he took the monster on his
+back and went homewards with it to the King.
+
+As he came out at the other side of the wood, there stood at the
+entrance a house where people were making merry with wine and dancing.
+His elder brother had gone in here, and, thinking that after all the
+boar would not run away from him, was going to drink until he felt
+brave. But when he saw his young brother coming out of the wood laden
+with his booty, his envious, evil heart gave him no peace. He called
+out to him, “Come in, dear brother, rest and refresh yourself with a
+cup of wine.”
+
+The youth, who suspected no evil, went in and told him about the good
+little man who had given him the spear wherewith he had slain the boar.
+
+The elder brother kept him there until the evening, and then they went
+away together, and when in the darkness they came to a bridge over a
+brook, the elder brother let the other go first; and when he was
+half-way across he gave him such a blow from behind that he fell down
+dead. He buried him beneath the bridge, took the boar, and carried it
+to the King, pretending that he had killed it; whereupon he obtained
+the King’s daughter in marriage. And when his younger brother did not
+come back he said, “The boar must have killed him,” and every one
+believed it.
+
+But as nothing remains hidden from God, so this black deed also was to
+come to light.
+
+Years afterwards a shepherd was driving his herd across the bridge, and
+saw lying in the sand beneath, a snow-white little bone. He thought
+that it would make a good mouth-piece, so he clambered down, picked it
+up, and cut out of it a mouth-piece for his horn. But when he blew
+through it for the first time, to his great astonishment, the bone
+began of its own accord to sing:
+
+“Ah, friend, thou blowest upon my bone!
+Long have I lain beside the water;
+My brother slew me for the boar,
+And took for his wife the King’s young daughter.”
+
+
+“What a wonderful horn!” said the shepherd; “it sings by itself; I must
+take it to my lord the King.” And when he came with it to the King the
+horn again began to sing its little song. The King understood it all,
+and caused the ground below the bridge to be dug up, and then the whole
+skeleton of the murdered man came to light. The wicked brother could
+not deny the deed, and was sewn up in a sack and drowned. But the bones
+of the murdered man were laid to rest in a beautiful tomb in the
+churchyard.

content/library/grimm/029_the_devil_with_the_three_golden_hairs.txt

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+The Devil With the Three Golden Hairs
+
+There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son; and as he
+came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted that in his
+fourteenth year he would have the King’s daughter for his wife. It
+happened that soon afterwards the King came into the village, and no
+one knew that he was the King, and when he asked the people what news
+there was, they answered, “A child has just been born with a caul on;
+whatever any one so born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied,
+too, that in his fourteenth year he will have the King’s daughter for
+his wife.”
+
+The King, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy, went
+to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, “You poor people,
+let me have your child, and I will take care of it.” At first they
+refused, but when the stranger offered them a large amount of gold for
+it, and they thought, “It is a luck-child, and everything must turn out
+well for it,” they at last consented, and gave him the child.
+
+The King put it in a box and rode away with it until he came to a deep
+piece of water; then he threw the box into it and thought, “I have
+freed my daughter from her unlooked-for suitor.”
+
+The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not a drop
+of water made its way into it. And it floated to within two miles of
+the King’s chief city, where there was a mill, and it came to a
+stand-still at the mill-dam. A miller’s boy, who by good luck was
+standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook, thinking that
+he had found a great treasure, but when he opened it there lay a pretty
+boy inside, quite fresh and lively. He took him to the miller and his
+wife, and as they had no children they were glad, and said, “God has
+given him to us.” They took great care of the foundling, and he grew up
+in all goodness.
+
+It happened that once in a storm, the King went into the mill, and he
+asked the mill-folk if the tall youth was their son. “No,” answered
+they, “he’s a foundling. Fourteen years ago he floated down to the
+mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled him out of the water.”
+
+Then the King knew that it was none other than the luck-child which he
+had thrown into the water, and he said, “My good people, could not the
+youth take a letter to the Queen; I will give him two gold pieces as a
+reward?” “Just as the King commands,” answered they, and they told the
+boy to hold himself in readiness. Then the King wrote a letter to the
+Queen, wherein he said, “As soon as the boy arrives with this letter,
+let him be killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home.”
+
+The boy set out with this letter; but he lost his way, and in the
+evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small light;
+he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went in, an old woman
+was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started when she saw the boy,
+and said, “Whence do you come, and whither are you going?” “I come from
+the mill,” he answered, “and wish to go to the Queen, to whom I am
+taking a letter; but as I have lost my way in the forest I should like
+to stay here over night.” “You poor boy,” said the woman, “you have
+come into a den of thieves, and when they come home they will kill
+you.” “Let them come,” said the boy, “I am not afraid; but I am so
+tired that I cannot go any farther:” and he stretched himself upon a
+bench and fell asleep.
+
+Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what strange boy
+was lying there? “Ah,” said the old woman, “it is an innocent child who
+has lost himself in the forest, and out of pity I have let him come in;
+he has to take a letter to the Queen.” The robbers opened the letter
+and read it, and in it was written that the boy as soon as he arrived
+should be put to death. Then the hard-hearted robbers felt pity, and
+their leader tore up the letter and wrote another, saying, that as soon
+as the boy came, he should be married at once to the King’s daughter.
+Then they let him lie quietly on the bench until the next morning, and
+when he awoke they gave him the letter, and showed him the right way.
+
+And the Queen, when she had received the letter and read it, did as was
+written in it, and had a splendid wedding-feast prepared, and the
+King’s daughter was married to the luck-child, and as the youth was
+handsome and agreeable she lived with him in joy and contentment.
+
+After some time the King returned to his palace and saw that the
+prophecy was fulfilled, and the luck-child married to his daughter.
+“How has that come to pass?” said he; “I gave quite another order in my
+letter.”
+
+So the Queen gave him the letter, and said that he might see for
+himself what was written in it. The King read the letter and saw quite
+well that it had been exchanged for the other. He asked the youth what
+had become of the letter entrusted to him, and why he had brought
+another instead of it. “I know nothing about it,” answered he; “it must
+have been changed in the night, when I slept in the forest.” The King
+said in a passion, “You shall not have everything quite so much your
+own way; whosoever marries my daughter must fetch me from hell three
+golden hairs from the head of the devil; bring me what I want, and you
+shall keep my daughter.” In this way the King hoped to be rid of him
+for ever. But the luck-child answered, “I will fetch the golden hairs,
+I am not afraid of the Devil;” thereupon he took leave of them and
+began his journey.
+
+The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the gates asked
+him what his trade was, and what he knew. “I know everything,” answered
+the luck-child. “Then you can do us a favour,” said the watchman, “if
+you will tell us why our market-fountain, which once flowed with wine
+has become dry, and no longer gives even water?” “That you shall know,”
+answered he; “only wait until I come back.”
+
+Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also the
+gatekeeper asked him what was his trade, and what he knew. “I know
+everything,” answered he. “Then you can do us a favour and tell us why
+a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now does not even put
+forth leaves?” “You shall know that,” answered he; “only wait until I
+come back.”
+
+Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must go. The
+ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. “I know
+everything,” answered he. “Then you can do me a favour,” said the
+ferryman, “and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards and
+forwards, and am never set free?” “You shall know that,” answered he;
+“only wait until I come back.”
+
+When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to Hell. It was
+black and sooty within, and the Devil was not at home, but his
+grandmother was sitting in a large arm-chair. “What do you want?” said
+she to him, but she did not look so very wicked. “I should like to have
+three golden hairs from the devil’s head,” answered he, “else I cannot
+keep my wife.” “That is a good deal to ask for,” said she; “if the
+devil comes home and finds you, it will cost you your life; but as I
+pity you, I will see if I cannot help you.”
+
+She changed him into an ant and said, “Creep into the folds of my
+dress, you will be safe there.” “Yes,” answered he, “so far, so good;
+but there are three things besides that I want to know: why a fountain
+which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no longer gives even
+water; why a tree which once bore golden apples does not even put forth
+leaves; and why a ferry-man must always be going backwards and
+forwards, and is never set free?”
+
+“Those are difficult questions,” answered she, “but only be silent and
+quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull out the
+three golden hairs.”
+
+As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner had he
+entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. “I smell man’s
+flesh,” said he; “all is not right here.” Then he pried into every
+corner, and searched, but could not find anything. His grandmother
+scolded him. “It has just been swept,” said she, “and everything put in
+order, and now you are upsetting it again; you have always got man’s
+flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your supper.”
+
+When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in his
+grandmother’s lap, and before long he was fast asleep, snoring and
+breathing heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden hair,
+pulled it out, and laid it down near her. “Oh!” cried the devil, “what
+are you doing?” “I have had a bad dream,” answered the grandmother, “so
+I seized hold of your hair.” “What did you dream then?” said the devil.
+“I dreamed that a fountain in a market-place from which wine once
+flowed was dried up, and not even water would flow out of it; what is
+the cause of it?” “Oh, ho! if they did but know it,” answered the
+devil; “there is a toad sitting under a stone in the well; if they
+killed it, the wine would flow again.”
+
+He went to sleep again and snored until the windows shook. Then she
+pulled the second hair out. “Ha! what are you doing?” cried the devil
+angrily. “Do not take it ill,” said she, “I did it in a dream.” “What
+have you dreamt this time?” asked he. “I dreamt that in a certain
+kingdom there stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples,
+but now would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason?”
+“Oh! if they did but know,” answered the devil. “A mouse is gnawing at
+the root; if they killed this they would have golden apples again, but
+if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither altogether. But leave me
+alone with your dreams: if you disturb me in my sleep again you will
+get a box on the ear.”
+
+The grandmother spoke gently to him until he fell asleep again and
+snored. Then she took hold of the third golden hair and pulled it out.
+The devil jumped up, roared out, and would have treated her ill if she
+had not quieted him once more and said, “Who can help bad dreams?”
+“What was the dream, then?” asked he, and was quite curious. “I dreamt
+of a ferry-man who complained that he must always ferry from one side
+to the other, and was never released. What is the cause of it?” “Ah!
+the fool,” answered the devil; “when any one comes and wants to go
+across he must put the oar in his hand, and the other man will have to
+ferry and he will be free.” As the grandmother had plucked out the
+three golden hairs, and the three questions were answered, she let the
+old serpent alone, and he slept until daybreak.
+
+When the devil had gone out again the old woman took the ant out of the
+folds of her dress, and gave the luck-child his human shape again.
+“There are the three golden hairs for you,” said she. “What the Devil
+said to your three questions, I suppose you heard?” “Yes,” answered he,
+“I heard, and will take care to remember.” “You have what you want,”
+said she, “and now you can go your way.” He thanked the old woman for
+helping him in his need, and left hell well content that everything had
+turned out so fortunately.
+
+When he came to the ferry-man he was expected to give the promised
+answer. “Ferry me across first,” said the luck-child, “and then I will
+tell you how you can be set free,” and when he reached the opposite
+shore he gave him the devil’s advice: “Next time any one comes, who
+wants to be ferried over, just put the oar in his hand.”
+
+He went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful tree, and
+there too the watchman wanted an answer. So he told him what he had
+heard from the devil: “Kill the mouse which is gnawing at its root, and
+it will again bear golden apples.” Then the watchman thanked him, and
+gave him as a reward two asses laden with gold, which followed him.
+
+At last he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the watchman
+what the devil had said: “A toad is in the well beneath a stone; you
+must find it and kill it, and the well will again give wine in plenty.”
+The watchman thanked him, and also gave him two asses laden with gold.
+
+At last the luck-child got home to his wife, who was heartily glad to
+see him again, and to hear how well he had prospered in everything. To
+the King he took what he had asked for, the devil’s three golden hairs,
+and when the King saw the four asses laden with gold he was quite
+content, and said, “Now all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can
+keep my daughter. But tell me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold
+come from? this is tremendous wealth!” “I was rowed across a river,”
+answered he, “and got it there; it lies on the shore instead of sand.”
+“Can I too fetch some of it?” said the King; and he was quite eager
+about it. “As much as you like,” answered he. “There is a ferry-man on
+the river; let him ferry you over, and you can fill your sacks on the
+other side.” The greedy King set out in all haste, and when he came to
+the river he beckoned to the ferry-man to put him across. The ferry-man
+came and bade him get in, and when they got to the other shore he put
+the oar in his hand and sprang out. But from this time forth the King
+had to ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying
+still? If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from him.

content/library/grimm/030_the_louse_and_the_flea.txt

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+The Louse and the Flea
+
+A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer in an
+egg-shell. Then the little louse fell in and burnt herself. On this the
+little flea began to scream loudly. Then said the little room-door,
+“Little flea, why art thou screaming?” “Because the louse has burnt
+herself.”
+
+Then the little door began to creak. On this a little broom in the
+corner said, “Why art thou creaking, little door?” “Have I not reason
+to creak?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping.”
+
+
+So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart
+passed by and said, “Why art thou sweeping, little broom?” “Have I not
+reason to sweep?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping,
+The little door is creaking.”
+
+
+So the little cart said, “Then I will run,” and began to run wildly.
+Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, “Why art thou running so,
+little cart?” “Have I not reason to run?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping,
+The little door is creaking,
+The little broom is sweeping.”
+
+
+The ash-heap said, “Then I will burn furiously,” and began to burn in
+clear flames. A little tree stood near the ash-heap and said,
+“Ash-heap, why art thou burning?” “Have I not reason to burn?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping,
+The little door is creaking,
+The little broom is sweeping,
+The little cart is running.”
+
+
+The little tree said, “Then I will shake myself,” and began to shake
+herself so that all her leaves fell off; a girl who came up with her
+water-pitcher saw that, and said, “Little tree, why art thou shaking
+thyself?” “Have I not reason to shake myself?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping,
+The little door is creaking,
+The little broom is sweeping,
+The little cart is running,
+The little ash-heap is burning.”
+
+
+On this the girl said, “Then I will break my little water-pitcher,” and
+she broke her little water-pitcher. Then said the little spring from
+which ran the water, “Girl, why art thou breaking thy water-jug?” “Have
+I not reason to break my water-jug?”
+
+“The little louse has burnt herself,
+The little flea is weeping,
+The little door is creaking,
+The little broom is sweeping,
+The little cart is running,
+The little ash-heap is burning,
+The little tree is shaking itself.”
+
+
+“Oh, ho!” said the spring, “then I will begin to flow,” and began to
+flow violently. And in the water everything was drowned, the girl, the
+little tree, the little ash-heap, the little cart, the broom, the
+little door, the little flea, the little louse, all together.

content/library/grimm/031_the_girl_without_hands.txt

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+The Girl Without Hands
+
+A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty, and had
+nothing left but his mill and a large apple-tree behind it. Once when
+he had gone into the forest to fetch wood, an old man stepped up to him
+whom he had never seen before, and said, “Why dost thou plague thyself
+with cutting wood, I will make thee rich, if thou wilt promise me what
+is standing behind thy mill?” “What can that be but my apple-tree?”
+thought the miller, and said, “Yes,” and gave a written promise to the
+stranger. He, however, laughed mockingly and said, “When three years
+have passed, I will come and carry away what belongs to me,” and then
+he went. When the miller got home, his wife came to meet him and said,
+“Tell me, miller, from whence comes this sudden wealth into our house?
+All at once every box and chest was filled; no one brought it in, and I
+know not how it happened.” He answered, “It comes from a stranger who
+met me in the forest, and promised me great treasure. I, in return,
+have promised him what stands behind the mill; we can very well give
+him the big apple-tree for it.” “Ah, husband,” said the terrified wife,
+“that must have been the devil! He did not mean the apple-tree, but our
+daughter, who was standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.”
+
+The miller’s daughter was a beautiful, pious girl, and lived through
+the three years in the fear of God and without sin. When therefore the
+time was over, and the day came when the Evil-one was to fetch her, she
+washed herself clean, and made a circle round herself with chalk. The
+devil appeared quite early, but he could not come near to her. Angrily,
+he said to the miller, “Take all water away from her, that she may no
+longer be able to wash herself, for otherwise I have no power over
+her.” The miller was afraid, and did so. The next morning the devil
+came again, but she had wept on her hands, and they were quite clean.
+Again he could not get near her, and furiously said to the miller, “Cut
+her hands off, or else I cannot get the better of her.” The miller was
+shocked and answered, “How could I cut off my own child’s hands?” Then
+the Evil-one threatened him and said, “If thou dost not do it thou art
+mine, and I will take thee thyself.” The father became alarmed, and
+promised to obey him. So he went to the girl and said, “My child, if I
+do not cut off both thine hands, the devil will carry me away, and in
+my terror I have promised to do it. Help me in my need, and forgive me
+the harm I do thee.” She replied, “Dear father, do with me what you
+will, I am your child.” Thereupon she laid down both her hands, and let
+them be cut off. The devil came for the third time, but she had wept so
+long and so much on the stumps, that after all they were quite clean.
+Then he had to give in, and had lost all right over her.
+
+The miller said to her, “I have by means of thee received such great
+wealth that I will keep thee most delicately as long as thou livest.”
+But she replied, “Here I cannot stay, I will go forth, compassionate
+people will give me as much as I require.” Thereupon she caused her
+maimed arms to be bound to her back, and by sunrise she set out on her
+way, and walked the whole day until night fell. Then she came to a
+royal garden, and by the shimmering of the moon she saw that trees
+covered with beautiful fruits grew in it, but she could not enter, for
+there was much water round about it. And as she had walked the whole
+day and not eaten one mouthful, and hunger tormented her, she thought,
+“Ah, if I were but inside, that I might eat of the fruit, else must I
+die of hunger!” Then she knelt down, called on God the Lord, and
+prayed. And suddenly an angel came towards her, who made a dam in the
+water, so that the moat became dry and she could walk through it. And
+now she went into the garden and the angel went with her. She saw a
+tree covered with beautiful pears, but they were all counted. Then she
+went to them, and to still her hunger, ate one with her mouth from the
+tree, but no more. The gardener was watching; but as the angel was
+standing by, he was afraid and thought the maiden was a spirit, and was
+silent, neither did he dare to cry out, or to speak to the spirit. When
+she had eaten the pear, she was satisfied, and went and concealed
+herself among the bushes. The King to whom the garden belonged, came
+down to it next morning, and counted, and saw that one of the pears was
+missing, and asked the gardener what had become of it, as it was not
+lying beneath the tree, but was gone. Then answered the gardener, “Last
+night, a spirit came in, who had no hands, and ate off one of the pears
+with its mouth.” The King said, “How did the spirit get over the water,
+and where did it go after it had eaten the pear?” The gardener
+answered, “Some one came in a snow-white garment from heaven who made a
+dam, and kept back the water, that the spirit might walk through the
+moat. And as it must have been an angel, I was afraid, and asked no
+questions, and did not cry out. When the spirit had eaten the pear, it
+went back again.” The King said, “If it be as thou sayest, I will watch
+with thee to-night.”
+
+When it grew dark the King came into the garden and brought a priest
+with him, who was to speak to the spirit. All three seated themselves
+beneath the tree and watched. At midnight the maiden came creeping out
+of the thicket, went to the tree, and again ate one pear off it with
+her mouth, and beside her stood the angel in white garments. Then the
+priest went out to them and said, “Comest thou from heaven or from
+earth? Art thou a spirit, or a human being?” She replied, “I am no
+spirit, but an unhappy mortal deserted by all but God.” The King said,
+“If thou art forsaken by all the world, yet will I not forsake thee.”
+He took her with him into his royal palace, and as she was so beautiful
+and good, he loved her with all his heart, had silver hands made for
+her, and took her to wife.
+
+After a year the King had to take the field, so he commended his young
+Queen to the care of his mother and said, “If she is brought to bed
+take care of her, nurse her well, and tell me of it at once in a
+letter.” Then she gave birth to a fine boy. So the old mother made
+haste to write and announce the joyful news to him. But the messenger
+rested by a brook on the way, and as he was fatigued by the great
+distance, he fell asleep. Then came the Devil, who was always seeking
+to injure the good Queen, and exchanged the letter for another, in
+which was written that the Queen had brought a monster into the world.
+When the King read the letter he was shocked and much troubled, but he
+wrote in answer that they were to take great care of the Queen and
+nurse her well until his arrival. The messenger went back with the
+letter, but rested at the same place and again fell asleep. Then came
+the Devil once more, and put a different letter in his pocket, in which
+it was written that they were to put the Queen and her child to death.
+The old mother was terribly shocked when she received the letter, and
+could not believe it. She wrote back again to the King, but received no
+other answer, because each time the Devil substituted a false letter,
+and in the last letter it was also written that she was to preserve the
+Queen’s tongue and eyes as a token that she had obeyed.
+
+But the old mother wept to think such innocent blood was to be shed,
+and had a hind brought by night and cut out her tongue and eyes, and
+kept them. Then said she to the Queen, “I cannot have thee killed as
+the King commands, but here thou mayst stay no longer. Go forth into
+the wide world with thy child, and never come here again.” The poor
+woman tied her child on her back, and went away with eyes full of
+tears. She came into a great wild forest, and then she fell on her
+knees and prayed to God, and the angel of the Lord appeared to her and
+led her to a little house on which was a sign with the words, “Here all
+dwell free.” A snow-white maiden came out of the little house and said,
+“Welcome, Lady Queen,” and conducted her inside. Then they unbound the
+little boy from her back, and held him to her breast that he might
+feed, and laid him in a beautifully-made little bed. Then said the poor
+woman, “From whence knowest thou that I was a queen?” The white maiden
+answered, “I am an angel sent by God, to watch over thee and thy
+child.” The Queen stayed seven years in the little house, and was well
+cared for, and by God’s grace, because of her piety, her hands which
+had been cut off, grew once more.
+
+At last the King came home again from the war, and his first wish was
+to see his wife and the child. Then his aged mother began to weep and
+said, “Thou wicked man, why didst thou write to me that I was to take
+those two innocent lives?” and she showed him the two letters which the
+Evil-one had forged, and then continued, “I did as thou badest me,” and
+she showed the tokens, the tongue and eyes. Then the King began to weep
+for his poor wife and his little son so much more bitterly than she was
+doing, that the aged mother had compassion on him and said, “Be at
+peace, she still lives; I secretly caused a hind to be killed, and took
+these tokens from it; but I bound the child to thy wife’s back and bade
+her go forth into the wide world, and made her promise never to come
+back here again, because thou wert so angry with her.” Then spoke the
+King, “I will go as far as the sky is blue, and will neither eat nor
+drink until I have found again my dear wife and my child, if in the
+meantime they have not been killed, or died of hunger.”
+
+Thereupon the King travelled about for seven long years, and sought her
+in every cleft of the rocks and in every cave, but he found her not,
+and thought she had died of want. During the whole of this time he
+neither ate nor drank, but God supported him. At length he came into a
+great forest, and found therein the little house whose sign was, “Here
+all dwell free.” Then forth came the white maiden, took him by the
+hand, led him in, and said, “Welcome, Lord King,” and asked him from
+whence he came. He answered, “Soon shall I have travelled about for the
+space of seven years, and I seek my wife and her child, but cannot find
+them.” The angel offered him meat and drink, but he did not take
+anything, and only wished to rest a little. Then he lay down to sleep,
+and put a handkerchief over his face.
+
+Thereupon the angel went into the chamber where the Queen sat with her
+son, whom she usually called “Sorrowful,” and said to her, “Go out with
+thy child, thy husband hath come.” So she went to the place where he
+lay, and the handkerchief fell from his face. Then said she,
+“Sorrowful, pick up thy father’s handkerchief, and cover his face
+again.” The child picked it up, and put it over his face again. The
+King in his sleep heard what passed, and had pleasure in letting the
+handkerchief fall once more. But the child grew impatient, and said,
+“Dear mother, how can I cover my father’s face when I have no father in
+this world? I have learnt to say the prayer, ‘Our Father, which art in
+Heaven,’ thou hast told me that my father was in Heaven, and was the
+good God, and how can I know a wild man like this? He is not my
+father.” When the King heard that, he got up, and asked who they were.
+Then said she, “I am thy wife, and that is thy son, Sorrowful.” And he
+saw her living hands, and said, “My wife had silver hands.” She
+answered, “The good God has caused my natural hands to grow again;” and
+the angel went into the inner room, and brought the silver hands, and
+showed them to him. Hereupon he knew for a certainty that it was his
+dear wife and his dear child, and he kissed them, and was glad, and
+said, “A heavy stone has fallen from off mine heart.” Then the angel of
+God gave them one meal with her, and after that they went home to the
+King’s aged mother. There were great rejoicings everywhere, and the
+King and Queen were married again, and lived contentedly to their happy
+end.

content/library/grimm/032_clever_hans.txt

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+Clever Hans
+
+The mother of Hans said, “Whither away, Hans?” Hans answered, “To
+Grethel.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, I’ll behave well. Good-bye,
+mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” Hans comes to Grethel, “Good day, Grethel.”
+“Good day, Hans. What dost thou bring that is good?” “I bring nothing,
+I want to have something given me.” Grethel presents Hans with a
+needle. Hans says, “Good-bye, Grethel.” “Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and follows the cart
+home. “Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou
+been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “Took nothing; had
+something given me.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a needle.”
+“Where is the needle, Hans?” “Stuck it in the hay-cart.” “That was ill
+done, Hans. Thou shouldst have stuck the needle in thy sleeve.” “Never
+mind, I’ll do better next time.”
+
+“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh,
+I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What dost
+thou bring that is good?” “I bring nothing; I want to have something
+given to me.” Grethel presents Hans with a knife. “Good-bye, Grethel.”
+“Good-bye Hans.” Hans takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and
+goes home. “Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou
+been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “Took her nothing,
+she gave me something.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a
+knife.” “Where is the knife, Hans?” “Stuck in my sleeve.” “That’s ill
+done, Hans, thou shouldst have put the knife in thy pocket.” “Never
+mind, will do better next time.” “Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel,
+mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh, I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.”
+“Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good
+thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, I want something given me.”
+Grethel presents Hans with a young goat. “Good-bye, Grethel.”
+“Good-bye, Hans.” Hans takes the goat, ties its legs, and puts it in
+his pocket. When he gets home it is suffocated. “Good evening, mother.”
+“Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst
+thou take her?” “Took nothing, she gave me something.” “What did
+Grethel give thee?” “She gave me a goat.” “Where is the goat, Hans?”
+“Put it in my pocket.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have put
+a rope round the goat’s neck.” “Never mind, will do better next time.”
+
+“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “Oh,
+I’ll behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.” Hans comes to
+Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good thing dost
+thou
+bring?” “I bring nothing, I want something given me.” Grethel presents
+Hans with a piece of bacon. “Good-bye, Grethel.” “Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it away behind him.
+The dogs come and devour the bacon. When he gets home, he has the rope
+in his hand, and there is no longer anything hanging to it. “Good
+evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans.” “Where hast thou been?” “With
+Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “I took her nothing, she gave me
+something.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “Gave me a bit of bacon.”
+“Where is the bacon, Hans?” “I tied it to a rope, brought it home, dogs
+took it.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have carried the
+bacon on thy head.” “Never mind, will do better next time.” “Whither
+away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll behave
+well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans.” “What
+good thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, but would have something
+given.” Grethel presents Hans with a calf. “Good-bye, Grethel.”
+“Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans takes the calf, puts it on his head, and the calf kicks his face.
+“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?”
+“With Grethel.” “What didst thou take her?” “I took nothing, but had
+something given me.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “A calf.” “Where
+hast thou the calf, Hans?” “I set it on my head and it kicked my face.”
+“That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have led the calf, and put it
+in the stall.” “Never mind, will do better next time.”
+
+“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll
+behave well. Good-bye, mother.” “Good-bye, Hans.”
+
+Hans comes to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What good
+thing dost thou bring?” “I bring nothing, but would have something
+given.” Grethel says to Hans, “I will go with thee.”
+
+Hans takes Grethel, ties her to a rope, leads her to the rack and binds
+her fast. Then Hans goes to his mother. “Good evening, mother.” “Good
+evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?” “With Grethel.” “What didst thou
+take her?” “I took her nothing.” “What did Grethel give thee?” “She
+gave me nothing, she came with me.” “Where hast thou left Grethel?” “I
+led her by the rope, tied her to the rack, and scattered some grass for
+her.” “That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have cast friendly eyes
+on her.” “Never mind, will do better.”
+
+Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves’ and sheep’s eyes,
+and threw them in Grethel’s face. Then Grethel became angry, tore
+herself loose and ran away, and became the bride of Hans.

content/library/grimm/033_the_three_languages.txt

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+The Three Languages
+
+An aged count once lived in Switzerland, who had an only son, but he
+was stupid, and could learn nothing. Then said the father, “Hark thee,
+my son, I can get nothing into thy head, let me try as I will. Thou
+must go from hence, I will give thee into the care of a celebrated
+master, who shall see what he can do with thee.” The youth was sent
+into a strange town, and remained a whole year with the master. At the
+end of this time, he came home again, and his father asked, “Now, my
+son, what hast thou learnt?” “Father, I have learnt what the dogs say
+when they bark.” “Lord have mercy on us!” cried the father; “is that
+all thou hast learnt? I will send thee into another town, to another
+master.” The youth was taken thither, and stayed a year with this
+master likewise. When he came back the father again asked, “My son,
+what hast thou learnt?” He answered, “Father, I have learnt what the
+birds say.” Then the father fell into a rage and said, “Oh, thou lost
+man, thou hast spent the precious time and learnt nothing; art thou not
+ashamed to appear before mine eyes? I will send thee to a third master,
+but if thou learnest nothing this time also, I will no longer be thy
+father.” The youth remained a whole year with the third master also,
+and when he came home again, and his father inquired, “My son, what
+hast thou learnt?” he answered, “Dear father, I have this year learnt
+what the frogs croak.” Then the father fell into the most furious
+anger, sprang up, called his people thither, and said, “This man is no
+longer my son, I drive him forth, and command you to take him out into
+the forest, and kill him.” They took him forth, but when they should
+have killed him, they could not do it for pity, and let him go, and
+they cut the eyes and the tongue out of a deer that they might carry
+them to the old man as a token.
+
+The youth wandered on, and after some time came to a fortress where he
+begged for a night’s lodging. “Yes,” said the lord of the castle, “if
+thou wilt pass the night down there in the old tower, go thither; but I
+warn thee, it is at the peril of thy life, for it is full of wild dogs,
+which bark and howl without stopping, and at certain hours a man has to
+be given to them, whom they at once devour.” The whole district was in
+sorrow and dismay because of them, and yet no one could do anything to
+stop this. The youth, however, was without fear, and said, “Just let me
+go down to the barking dogs, and give me something that I can throw to
+them; they will do nothing to harm me.” As he himself would have it so,
+they gave him some food for the wild animals, and led him down to the
+tower. When he went inside, the dogs did not bark at him, but wagged
+their tails quite amicably around him, ate what he set before them, and
+did not hurt one hair of his head. Next morning, to the astonishment of
+everyone, he came out again safe and unharmed, and said to the lord of
+the castle, “The dogs have revealed to me, in their own language, why
+they dwell there, and bring evil on the land. They are bewitched, and
+are obliged to watch over a great treasure which is below in the tower,
+and they can have no rest until it is taken away, and I have likewise
+learnt, from their discourse, how that is to be done.” Then all who
+heard this rejoiced, and the lord of the castle said he would adopt him
+as a son if he accomplished it successfully. He went down again, and as
+he knew what he had to do, he did it thoroughly, and brought a chest
+full of gold out with him. The howling of the wild dogs was henceforth
+heard no more; they had disappeared, and the country was freed from the
+trouble.
+
+After some time he took it into his head that he would travel to Rome.
+On the way he passed by a marsh, in which a number of frogs were
+sitting croaking. He listened to them, and when he became aware of what
+they were saying, he grew very thoughtful and sad. At last he arrived
+in Rome, where the Pope had just died, and there was great difficulty
+as to whom they should appoint as his successor. They at length agreed
+that the person should be chosen as pope who should be distinguished by
+some divine and miraculous token. And just as that was decided on, the
+young count entered into the church, and suddenly two snow-white doves
+flew on his shoulders and remained sitting there. The ecclesiastics
+recognized therein the token from above, and asked him on the spot if
+he would be pope. He was undecided, and knew not if he were worthy of
+this, but the doves counselled him to do it, and at length he said yes.
+Then was he anointed and consecrated, and thus was fulfilled what he
+had heard from the frogs on his way, which had so affected him, that he
+was to be his Holiness the Pope. Then he had to sing a mass, and did
+not know one word of it, but the two doves sat continually on his
+shoulders, and said it all in his ear.

content/library/grimm/034_clever_elsie.txt

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+Clever Elsie
+
+There was once a man who had a daughter who was called Clever Elsie.
+And when she had grown up her father said, “We will get her married.”
+“Yes,” said the mother; “if only any one would come who would have
+her.” At length a man came from a distance and wooed her, who was
+called Hans; but he stipulated that Clever Elsie should be really wise.
+“Oh,” said the father, “she’s sharp enough;” and the mother said, “Oh,
+she can see the wind coming up the street, and hear the flies
+coughing.” “Well,” said Hans, “if she is not really wise, I won’t have
+her.” When they were sitting at dinner and had eaten, the mother said,
+“Elsie, go into the cellar and fetch some beer.” Then Clever Elsie took
+the pitcher from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped the lid
+briskly as she went, so that the time might not appear long. When she
+was below she fetched herself a chair, and set it before the barrel so
+that she had no need to stoop, and did not hurt her back or do herself
+any unexpected injury. Then she placed the can before her, and turned
+the tap, and while the beer was running she would not let her eyes be
+idle, but looked up at the wall, and after much peering here and there,
+saw a pick-axe exactly above her, which the masons had accidentally
+left there.
+
+Then Clever Elsie began to weep, and said, “If I get Hans, and we have
+a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar here to draw
+beer, then the pick-axe will fall on his head and kill him.” Then she
+sat and wept and screamed with all the strength of her body, over the
+misfortune which lay before her. Those upstairs waited for the drink,
+but Clever Elsie still did not come. Then the woman said to the
+servant, “Just go down into the cellar and see where Elsie is.” The
+maid went and found her sitting in front of the barrel, screaming
+loudly. “Elsie, why weepest thou?” asked the maid. “Ah,” she answered,
+“have I not reason to weep? If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he
+grows big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on
+his head, and kill him.” Then said the maid, “What a clever Elsie we
+have!” and sat down beside her and began loudly to weep over the
+misfortune. After a while, as the maid did not come back, those
+upstairs were thirsty for the beer, the man said to the boy, “Just go
+down into the cellar and see where Elsie and the girl are.” The boy
+went down, and there sat Clever Elsie and the girl both weeping
+together. Then he asked, “Why are ye weeping?” “Ah,” said Elsie, “have
+I not reason to weep? If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he grows
+big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will fall on his head and
+kill him.” Then said the boy, “What a clever Elsie we have!” and sat
+down by her, and likewise began to howl loudly. Upstairs they waited
+for the boy, but as he still did not return, the man said to the woman,
+“Just go down into the cellar and see where Elsie is!” The woman went
+down, and found all three in the midst of their lamentations, and
+inquired what was the cause; then Elsie told her also that her future
+child was to be killed by the pick-axe, when it grew big and had to
+draw beer, and the pick-axe fell down. Then said the mother likewise,
+“What a clever Elsie we have!” and sat down and wept with them. The man
+upstairs waited a short time, but as his wife did not come back and his
+thirst grew ever greater, he said, “I must go into the cellar myself
+and see where Elsie is.” But when he got into the cellar, and they were
+all sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and that Elsie’s
+child was the cause, and that Elsie might perhaps bring one into the
+world some day, and that it might be killed by the pick-axe, if it
+should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing beer just at the very
+time when it fell down, he cried, “Oh, what a clever Elsie!” and sat
+down, and likewise wept with them. The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone
+for a long time; then as no one would come back he thought, “They must
+be waiting for me below; I too must go there and see what they are
+about.” When he got down, five of them were sitting screaming and
+lamenting quite piteously, each out-doing the other. “What misfortune
+has happened then?” he asked. “Ah, dear Hans,” said Elsie, “if we marry
+each other and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send him
+here to draw something to drink, then the pick-axe which has been left
+up there might dash his brains out if it were to fall down, so have we
+not reason to weep?” “Come,” said Hans, “more understanding than that
+is not needed for my household, as thou art such a clever Elsie, I will
+have thee,” and he seized her hand, took her upstairs with him, and
+married her.
+
+After Hans had had her some time, he said, “Wife, I am going out to
+work and earn some money for us; go into the field and cut the corn
+that we may have some bread.” “Yes, dear Hans, I will do that.” After
+Hans had gone away, she cooked herself some good broth and took it into
+the field with her. When she came to the field she said to herself,
+“What shall I do; shall I shear first, or shall I eat first? Oh, I will
+eat first.” Then she emptied her basin of broth, and when she was fully
+satisfied, she once more said, “What shall I do? Shall I shear first,
+or shall I sleep first? I will sleep first.” Then she lay down among
+the corn and fell asleep. Hans had been at home for a long time, but
+Elsie did not come; then said he, “What a clever Elsie I have; she is
+so industrious that she does not even come home to eat.” As, however,
+she still stayed away, and it was evening, Hans went out to see what
+she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she was lying among the corn
+asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought a fowler’s net with little
+bells and hung it round about her, and she still went on sleeping. Then
+he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat down in his chair and worked.
+At length, when it was quite dark, Clever Elsie awoke and when she got
+up there was a jingling all round about her, and the bells rang at each
+step which she took. Then she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether
+she really was Clever Elsie or not, and said, “Is it I, or is it not
+I?” But she knew not what answer to make to this, and stood for a time
+in doubt; at length she thought, “I will go home and ask if it be I, or
+if it be not I, they will be sure to know.” She ran to the door of her
+own house, but it was shut; then she knocked at the window and cried,
+“Hans, is Elsie within?” “Yes,” answered Hans, “she is within.”
+Hereupon she was terrified, and said, “Ah, heavens! Then it is not I,”
+and went to another door; but when the people heard the jingling of the
+bells they would not open it, and she could get in nowhere. Then she
+ran out of the village, and no one has seen her since.

content/library/grimm/035_the_tailor_in_heaven.txt

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+The Tailor in Heaven
+
+One very fine day it came to pass that the good God wished to enjoy
+himself in the heavenly garden, and took all the apostles and saints
+with him, so that no one stayed in heaven but Saint Peter. The Lord had
+commanded him to let no one in during his absence, so Peter stood by
+the door and kept watch. Before long some one knocked. Peter asked who
+was there, and what he wanted? “I am a poor, honest tailor who prays
+for admission,” replied a smooth voice. “Honest indeed,” said Peter,
+“like the thief on the gallows! Thou hast been light-fingered and hast
+snipped folks’ clothes away. Thou wilt not get into heaven. The Lord
+hath forbidden me to let any one in while he is out.” “Come, do be
+merciful,” cried the tailor. “Little scraps which fall off the table of
+their own accord are not stolen, and are not worth speaking about.
+Look, I am lame, and have blisters on my feet with walking here, I
+cannot possibly turn back again. Only let me in, and I will do all the
+rough work. I will carry the children, and wash their clothes, and wash
+and clean the benches on which they have been playing, and patch all
+their torn clothes.” Saint Peter let himself be moved by pity, and
+opened the door of heaven just wide enough for the lame tailor to slip
+his lean body in. He was forced to sit down in a corner behind the
+door, and was to stay quietly and peaceably there, in order that the
+Lord, when he returned, might not observe him and be angry. The tailor
+obeyed, but once when Saint Peter went outside the door, he got up, and
+full of curiosity, went round about into every corner of heaven, and
+inspected the arrangement of every place. At length he came to a spot
+where many beautiful and delightful chairs were standing, and in the
+midst was a seat all of gold which was set with shining jewels,
+likewise it was much higher than the other chairs, and a footstool of
+gold was before it. It was, however, the seat on which the Lord sat
+when he was at home, and from which he could see everything which
+happened on earth. The tailor stood still, and looked at the seat for a
+long time, for it pleased him better than all else. At last he could
+master his curiosity no longer, and climbed up and seated himself in
+the chair. Then he saw everything which was happening on earth, and
+observed an ugly old woman who was standing washing by the side of a
+stream, secretly laying two veils on one side for herself. The sight of
+this made the tailor so angry that he laid hold of the golden
+footstool, and threw it down to earth through heaven, at the old thief.
+As, however, he could not bring the stool back again, he slipped
+quietly out of the chair, seated himself in his place behind the door,
+and behaved as if he had never stirred from the spot.
+
+When the Lord and master came back again with his heavenly companions,
+he did not see the tailor behind the door, but when he seated himself
+on his chair the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter what had
+become of the stool, but he did not know. Then he asked if he had let
+anyone come in. “I know of no one who has been here,” answered Peter,
+“but a lame tailor, who is still sitting behind the door.” Then the
+Lord had the tailor brought before him, and asked him if he had taken
+away the stool, and where he had put it? “Oh, Lord,” answered the
+tailor joyously, “I threw it in my anger down to earth at an old woman
+whom I saw stealing two veils at the washing.” “Oh, thou knave,” said
+the Lord, “were I to judge as thou judgest, how dost thou think thou
+couldst have escaped so long? I should long ago have had no chairs,
+benches, seats, nay, not even an oven-fork, but should have thrown
+everything down at the sinners. Henceforth thou canst stay no longer in
+heaven, but must go outside the door again. Then go where thou wilt. No
+one shall give punishment here, but I alone, the Lord.”
+
+Peter was obliged to take the tailor out of heaven again, and as he had
+torn shoes, and feet covered with blisters, he took a stick in his
+hand, and went to “Wait-a-bit,” where the good soldiers sit and make
+merry.

content/library/grimm/036_the_wishing_table_the_gold_ass_and_the_cudgel_in_the_sack.txt

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+The Wishing-Table, the Gold-Ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack
+
+There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and only one
+goat. But as the goat supported the whole of them with her milk, she
+was obliged to have good food, and to be taken every day to pasture.
+The sons, therefore, did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to the
+churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found, and let her eat
+and run about there. At night when it was time to go home he asked,
+“Goat, hast thou had enough?” The goat answered,
+
+“I have eaten so much,
+Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“Come home, then,” said the youth, and took hold of the cord round her
+neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely. “Well,” said
+the old tailor, “has the goat had as much food as she ought?” “Oh,”
+answered the son, “she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she’ll
+touch.” But the father wished to satisfy himself, and went down to the
+stable, stroked the dear animal and asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?”
+The goat answered,
+
+“Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
+Among the graves I leapt about,
+And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“What do I hear?” cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the
+youth, “Hollo, thou liar: thou saidest the goat had had enough, and
+hast let her hunger!” and in his anger he took the yard-measure from
+the wall, and drove him out with blows.
+
+Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked out for a place
+in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and the
+goat cleared them all off. At night when he wanted to go home, he
+asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?” The goat answered,
+
+“I have eaten so much,
+Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“Come home, then,” said the youth, and led her home, and tied her up in
+the stable. “Well,” said the old tailor, “has the goat had as much food
+as she ought?” “Oh,” answered the son, “she has eaten so much, not a
+leaf more she’ll touch.” The tailor would not rely on this, but went
+down to the stable and said, “Goat, hast thou had enough?” The goat
+answered,
+
+“Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
+Among the graves I leapt about,
+And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“The godless wretch!” cried the tailor, “to let such a good animal
+hunger,” and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the
+yard-measure.
+
+Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do the thing well,
+and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the goat
+devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he asked, “Goat,
+hast thou had enough?” The goat answered,
+
+“I have eaten so much,
+Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“Come home, then,” said the youth, and led her into the stable, and
+tied her up. “Well,” said the old tailor, “has the goat had a proper
+amount of food?” “She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she’ll touch.”
+The tailor did not trust to that, but went down and asked, “Goat, hast
+thou had enough?” The wicked beast answered,
+
+“Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
+Among the graves I leapt about,
+And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“Oh, the brood of liars!” cried the tailor, “each as wicked and
+forgetful of his duty as the other! Ye shall no longer make a fool of
+me,” and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs and belabored
+the poor young fellow so vigorously with the yard-measure that he
+sprang out of the house.
+
+The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he went down
+into the stable, caressed the goat and said, “Come, my dear little
+animal, I will take thee to feed myself.” He took her by the rope and
+conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil, and whatever else
+goats like to eat. “There thou mayest for once eat to thy heart’s
+content,” said he to her, and let her browse till evening. Then he
+asked, “Goat, art thou satisfied?” She replied,
+
+“I have eaten so much,
+Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!”
+
+
+“Come home, then,” said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and
+tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned round again and said,
+“Well, art thou satisfied for once?” But the goat did not behave the
+better to him, and cried,
+
+“Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
+Among the graves I leapt about,
+And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!”
+
+
+When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that he had
+driven away his three sons without cause. “Wait, thou ungrateful
+creature,” cried he, “it is not enough to drive thee forth, I will mark
+thee so that thou wilt no more dare to show thyself amongst honest
+tailors.” In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his razor, lathered
+the goat’s head, and shaved her as clean as the palm of his hand. And
+as the yard-measure would have been too good for her, he brought the
+horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that she ran away in violent
+haste.
+
+When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into
+great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no one
+knew whither they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed himself to a
+joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably, and when the time
+came for him to go travelling, his master presented him with a little
+table which had no particular appearance, and was made of common wood,
+but it had one good property; if anyone set it out, and said, “Little
+table, spread thyself,” the good little table was at once covered with
+a clean little cloth, and a plate was there, and a knife and fork
+beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as
+there was room for, and a great glass of red wine shone so that it made
+the heart glad. The young journeyman thought, “With this thou hast
+enough for thy whole life,” and went joyously about the world and never
+troubled himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything
+was to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an
+inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or wherever
+he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it down before
+him, and said, “Cover thyself,” and then everything appeared that his
+heart desired. At length he took it into his head to go back to his
+father, whose anger would now be appeased, and who would now willingly
+receive him with his wishing-table. It came to pass that on his way
+home, he came one evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They
+bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with them, for
+otherwise he would have difficulty in getting anything. “No,” answered
+the joiner, “I will not take the few bites out of your mouths; rather
+than that, you shall be my guests.” They laughed, and thought he was
+jesting with them; he, however, placed his wooden table in the middle
+of the room, and said, “Little table, cover thyself.” Instantly it was
+covered with food, so good that the host could never have procured it,
+and the smell of it ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests.
+“Fall to, dear friends,” said the joiner; and the guests when they saw
+that he meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled
+out their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the
+most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took its
+place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and watched
+the affair; he did not at all know what to say, but thought, “Thou
+couldst easily find a use for such a cook as that in thy kitchen.” The
+joiner and his comrades made merry until late into the night; at length
+they lay down to sleep, and the young apprentice also went to bed, and
+set his magic table against the wall. The host’s thoughts, however, let
+him have no rest; it occurred to him that there was a little old table
+in his lumber-room which looked just like the apprentice’s and he
+brought it out quite softly, and exchanged it for the wishing-table.
+Next morning, the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never
+thinking that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he
+reached his father, who received him with great joy. “Well, my dear
+son, what hast thou learnt?” said he to him. “Father, I have become a
+joiner.”
+
+“A good trade,” replied the old man; “but what hast thou brought back
+with thee from thy apprenticeship?” “Father, the best thing which I
+have brought back with me is this little table.” The tailor inspected
+it on all sides and said, “Thou didst not make a masterpiece when thou
+mad’st that; it is a bad old table.” “But it is a table which furnishes
+itself,” replied the son. “When I set it out, and tell it to cover
+itself, the most beautiful dishes stand on it, and a wine also, which
+gladdens the heart. Just invite all our relations and friends, they
+shall refresh and enjoy themselves for once, for the table will give
+them all they require.” When the company was assembled, he put his
+table in the middle of the room and said, “Little table, cover
+thyself,” but the little table did not bestir itself, and remained just
+as bare as any other table which did not understand language. Then the
+poor apprentice became aware that his table had been changed, and was
+ashamed at having to stand there like a liar. The relations, however,
+mocked him, and were forced to go home without having eaten or drunk.
+The father brought out his patches again, and went on tailoring, but
+the son went to a master in the craft.
+
+The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself to him.
+When his years were over, the master said, “As thou hast conducted
+thyself so well, I give thee an ass of a peculiar kind, which neither
+draws a cart nor carries a sack.” “To what use is he put, then?” asked
+the young apprentice. “He lets gold drop from his mouth,” answered the
+miller. “If thou settest him on a cloth and sayest ‘Bricklebrit,’ the
+good animal will drop gold pieces for thee.” “That is a fine thing,”
+said the apprentice, and thanked the master, and went out into the
+world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say “Bricklebrit” to
+his ass, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick
+them off the ground. Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was
+good enough for him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a
+full purse. When he had looked about the world for some time, he
+thought, “Thou must seek out thy father; if thou goest to him with the
+gold-ass he will forget his anger, and receive thee well.” It came to
+pass that he came to the same public-house in which his brother’s table
+had been exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was
+about to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young
+apprentice said, “Don’t trouble yourself, I will take my grey horse
+into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he
+stands.” This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a man who was
+forced to look after his ass himself, could not have much to spend; but
+when the stranger put his hand in his pocket and brought out two gold
+pieces, and said he was to provide something good for him, the host
+opened his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he could muster.
+After dinner the guest asked what he owed. The host did not see why he
+should not double the reckoning, and said the apprentice must give two
+more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an
+end. “Wait an instant, sir host,” said he, “I will go and fetch some
+money;” but he took the table-cloth with him. The host could not
+imagine what this could mean, and being curious, stole after him, and
+as the guest bolted the stable-door, he peeped through a hole left by a
+knot in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under the animal
+and cried, “Bricklebrit,” and immediately the beast began to let gold
+pieces fall, so that it fairly rained down money on the ground. “Eh, my
+word,” said the host, “ducats are quickly coined there! A purse like
+that is not amiss.” The guest paid his score, and went to bed, but in
+the night the host stole down into the stable, led away the master of
+the mint, and tied up another ass in his place. Early next morning the
+apprentice travelled away with his ass, and thought that he had his
+gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his father, who rejoiced to see him
+again, and gladly took him in. “What hast thou made of thyself, my
+son?” asked the old man. “A miller,” dear father, he answered. “What
+hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?” “Nothing else but
+an ass.” “There are asses enough here,” said the father, “I would
+rather have had a good goat.” “Yes,” replied the son, “but it is no
+common ass, but a gold-ass, when I say ‘Bricklebrit,’ the good beast
+opens its mouth and drops a whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon
+all our relations hither, and I will make them rich folks.” “That suits
+me well,” said the tailor, “for then I shall have no need to torment
+myself any longer with the needle,” and ran out himself and called the
+relations together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade
+them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room.
+“Now watch,” said he, and cried, “Bricklebrit,” but no gold pieces
+fell, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the art, for
+every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor miller pulled
+a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged pardon of the
+relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There was no help for
+it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once more, and the
+youth hired himself to a miller.
+
+The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that is
+skilled labour, he was the longest in learning. His brothers, however,
+told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them, and how the
+innkeeper had cheated them of their beautiful wishing-gifts on the last
+evening before they reached home. When the turner had served his time,
+and had to set out on his travels, as he had conducted himself so well,
+his master presented him with a sack and said, “There is a cudgel in
+it.” “I can put on the sack,” said he, “and it may be of good service
+to me, but why should the cudgel be in it? It only makes it heavy.” “I
+will tell thee why,” replied the master; “if any one has done anything
+to injure thee, do but say, ‘Out of the sack, Cudgel!’ and the cudgel
+will leap forth among the people, and play such a dance on their backs
+that they will not be able to stir or move for a week, and it will not
+leave off until thou sayest, ‘Into the sack, Cudgel!’” The apprentice
+thanked him, and put the sack on his back, and when any one came too
+near him, and wished to attack him, he said, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!”
+and instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of
+one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had
+stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone
+was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the young turner
+reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated. He laid his sack
+on the table before him, and began to talk of all the wonderful things
+which he had seen in the world. “Yes,” said he, “people may easily find
+a table which will cover itself, a gold-ass, and things of that
+kind—extremely good things which I by no means despise—but these are
+nothing in comparison with the treasure which I have won for myself,
+and am carrying about with me in my sack there.” The inn-keeper pricked
+up his ears, “What in the world can that be?” thought he; “the sack
+must be filled with nothing but jewels; I ought to get them cheap too,
+for all good things go in threes.” When it was time for sleep, the
+guest stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for
+a pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest was lying in a sound
+sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite gently and carefully
+at the sack to see if he could possibly draw it away and lay another in
+its place. The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a long
+time, and now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he
+cried, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!” Instantly the little cudgel came
+forth, and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing.
+
+The host cried for mercy; but the louder he cried, so much more heavily
+the cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the
+ground exhausted. Then the turner said, “If thou dost not give back the
+table which covers itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall begin
+afresh.” “Oh, no,” cried the host, quite humbly, “I will gladly produce
+everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into the sack.”
+Then said the apprentice, “I will let mercy take the place of justice,
+but beware of getting into mischief again!” So he cried, “Into the
+sack, Cudgel!” and let him have rest.
+
+Next morning the turner went home to his father with the wishing-table,
+and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw him once more, and
+asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign parts. “Dear father,”
+said he, “I have become a turner.” “A skilled trade,” said the father.
+“What hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?”
+
+“A precious thing, dear father,” replied the son, “a cudgel in the
+sack.”
+
+“What!” cried the father, “a cudgel! That’s worth thy trouble, indeed!
+From every tree thou can cut thyself one.” “But not one like this, dear
+father. If I say, ‘Out of the sack, Cudgel!’ the cudgel springs out and
+leads any one who means ill with me a weary dance, and never stops
+until he lies on the ground and prays for fair weather. Look you, with
+this cudgel have I got back the wishing-table and the gold-ass which
+the thievish inn-keeper took away from my brothers. Now let them both
+be sent for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to
+drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the bargain.” The old
+tailor would not quite believe, but nevertheless got the relatives
+together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the
+gold-ass, and said to his brother, “Now, dear brother, speak to him.”
+The miller said, “Bricklebrit,” and instantly the gold pieces fell down
+on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop until
+every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see
+in thy face that thou also wouldst like to be there.)
+
+Then the turner brought the little table, and said, “Now dear brother,
+speak to it.” And scarcely had the carpenter said, “Table, cover
+thyself,” than it was spread and amply covered with the most exquisite
+dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good tailor had never yet
+known in his house, and the whole party of kinsmen stayed together till
+far in the night, and were all merry and glad. The tailor locked away
+needle and thread, yard-measure and goose, in a press, and lived with
+his three sons in joy and splendour. (What, however, has become of the
+goat who was to blame for the tailor driving out his three sons? That I
+will tell thee. She was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a
+fox’s hole and crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two
+great eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away.
+A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said, “What
+is the matter with thee, brother Fox, why dost thou look like that?”
+“Ah,” answered Redskin, “a fierce beast is in my cave and stared at me
+with its fiery eyes.” “We will soon drive him out,” said the bear, and
+went with him to the cave and looked in, but when he saw the fiery
+eyes, fear seized on him likewise; he would have nothing to do with the
+furious beast, and took to his heels. The bee met him, and as she saw
+that he was ill at ease, she said, “Bear, thou art really pulling a
+very pitiful face; what has become of all thy gaiety?” “It is all very
+well for thee to talk,” replied the bear, “a furious beast with staring
+eyes is in Redskin’s house, and we can’t drive him out.” The bee said,
+“Bear I pity thee, I am a poor weak creature whom thou wouldst not turn
+aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help thee.” She flew into
+the fox’s cave, lighted on the goat’s smoothly-shorn head, and stung
+her so violently, that she sprang up, crying “Meh, meh,” and ran forth
+into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she has
+gone.)

content/library/grimm/037_thumbling.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,180 @@
+Thumbling
+
+There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the hearth and
+poked the fire, and his wife sat and span. Then said he, “How sad it is
+that we have no children! With us all is so quiet, and in other houses
+it is noisy and lively.”
+
+“Yes,” replied the wife, and sighed, “even if we had only one, and it
+were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite
+satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.” Now it so
+happened that the woman fell ill, and after seven months gave birth to
+a child, that was perfect in all its limbs, but no longer than a thumb.
+Then said they, “It is as we wished it to be, and it shall be our dear
+child;” and because of its size, they called it Thumbling. They did not
+let it want for food, but the child did not grow taller, but remained
+as it had been at the first, nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its
+eyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature, for
+everything it did turned out well.
+
+One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut
+wood, when he said as if to himself, “How I wish that there was any one
+who would bring the cart to me!” “Oh father,” cried Thumbling, “I will
+soon bring the cart, rely on that; it shall be in the forest at the
+appointed time.” The man smiled and said, “How can that be done, thou
+art far too small to lead the horse by the reins?” “That’s of no
+consequence, father, if my mother will only harness it, I shall sit in
+the horse’s ear and call out to him how he is to go.” “Well,” answered
+the man, “for once we will try it.”
+
+When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed
+Thumbling in its ear, and then the little creature cried, “Gee up, gee
+up!”
+
+Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart went
+the right way into the forest. It so happened that just as he was
+turning a corner, and the little one was crying, “Gee up,” two strange
+men came towards him. “My word!” said one of them, “What is this? There
+is a cart coming, and a driver is calling to the horse and still he is
+not to be seen!” “That can’t be right,” said the other, “we will follow
+the cart and see where it stops.” The cart, however, drove right into
+the forest, and exactly to the place where the wood had been cut. When
+Thumbling saw his father, he cried to him, “Seest thou, father, here I
+am with the cart; now take me down.” The father got hold of the horse
+with his left hand and with the right took his little son out of the
+ear. Thumbling sat down quite merrily on a straw, but when the two
+strange men saw him, they did not know what to say for astonishment.
+Then one of them took the other aside and said, “Hark, the little
+fellow would make our fortune if we exhibited him in a large town, for
+money. We will buy him.” They went to the peasant and said, “Sell us
+the little man. He shall be well treated with us.” “No,” replied the
+father, “he is the apple of my eye, and all the money in the world
+cannot buy him from me.” Thumbling, however, when he heard of the
+bargain, had crept up the folds of his father’s coat, placed himself on
+his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Father do give me away, I will
+soon come back again.” Then the father parted with him to the two men
+for a handsome bit of money. “Where wilt thou sit?” they said to him.
+“Oh just set me on the rim of your hat, and then I can walk backwards
+and forwards and look at the country, and still not fall down.” They
+did as he wished, and when Thumbling had taken leave of his father,
+they went away with him. They walked until it was dusk, and then the
+little fellow said, “Do take me down, I want to come down.” The man
+took his hat off, and put the little fellow on the ground by the
+wayside, and he leapt and crept about a little between the sods, and
+then he suddenly slipped into a mouse-hole which he had sought out.
+“Good evening, gentlemen, just go home without me,” he cried to them,
+and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their sticks into the
+mouse-hole, but it was all lost labour. Thumbling crept still farther
+in, and as it soon became quite dark, they were forced to go home with
+their vexation and their empty purses.
+
+When Thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the
+subterranean passage. “It is so dangerous to walk on the ground in the
+dark,” said he; “how easily a neck or a leg is broken!” Fortunately he
+knocked against an empty snail-shell. “Thank God!” said he. “In that I
+can pass the night in safety,” and got into it. Not long afterwards,
+when he was just going to sleep, he heard two men go by, and one of
+them was saying, “How shall we contrive to get hold of the rich
+pastor’s silver and gold?” “I could tell thee that,” cried Thumbling,
+interrupting them. “What was that?” said one of the thieves in fright,
+“I heard some one speaking.” They stood still listening, and Thumbling
+spoke again, and said, “Take me with you, and I’ll help you.”
+
+“But where art thou?” “Just look on the ground, and observe from whence
+my voice comes,” he replied. There the thieves at length found him, and
+lifted him up. “Thou little imp, how wilt thou help us?” they said. “A
+great deal,” said he, “I will creep into the pastor’s room through the
+iron bars, and will reach out to you whatever you want to have.” “Come
+then,” they said, “and we will see what thou canst do.” When they got
+to the pastor’s house, Thumbling crept into the room, but instantly
+cried out with all his might, “Do you want to have everything that is
+here?” The thieves were alarmed, and said, “But do speak softly, so as
+not to waken any one!” Thumbling however, behaved as if he had not
+understood this, and cried again, “What do you want? Do you want to
+have everything that is here?” The cook, who slept in the next room,
+heard this and sat up in bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had
+in their fright run some distance away, but at last they took courage,
+and thought, “The little rascal wants to mock us.” They came back and
+whispered to him, “Come, be serious, and reach something out to us.”
+Then Thumbling again cried as loudly as he could, “I really will give
+you everything, just put your hands in.” The maid who was listening,
+heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed and rushed to the
+door. The thieves took flight, and ran as if the Wild Huntsman were
+behind them, but as the maid could not see anything, she went to strike
+a light. When she came to the place with it, Thumbling, unperceived,
+betook himself to the granary, and the maid, after she had examined
+every corner and found nothing, lay down in her bed again, and believed
+that, after all, she had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.
+
+Thumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful place to
+sleep in; there he intended to rest until day, and then go home again
+to his parents. But he had other things to go through. Truly, there is
+much affliction and misery in this world! When day dawned, the maid
+arose from her bed to feed the cows. Her first walk was into the barn,
+where she laid hold of an armful of hay, and precisely that very one in
+which poor Thumbling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so
+soundly that he was aware of nothing, and did not awake until he was in
+the mouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay. “Ah,
+heavens!” cried he, “how have I got into the fulling mill?” but he soon
+discovered where he was. Then it was necessary to be careful not to let
+himself go between the teeth and be dismembered, but he was
+nevertheless forced to slip down into the stomach with the hay. “In
+this little room the windows are forgotten,” said he, “and no sun
+shines in, neither will a candle be brought.” His quarters were
+especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was, more and more hay was
+always coming in by the door, and the space grew less and less. Then at
+length in his anguish, he cried as loud as he could, “Bring me no more
+fodder, bring me no more fodder.” The maid was just milking the cow,
+and when she heard some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived
+that it was the same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so
+terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk. She ran
+in great haste to her master, and said, “Oh heavens, pastor, the cow
+has been speaking!” “Thou art mad,” replied the pastor; but he went
+himself to the byre to see what was there. Hardly, however had he set
+his foot inside when Thumbling again cried, “Bring me no more fodder,
+bring me no more fodder.” Then the pastor himself was alarmed, and
+thought that an evil spirit had gone into the cow, and ordered her to
+be killed. She was killed, but the stomach, in which Thumbling was, was
+thrown on the midden. Thumbling had great difficulty in working his
+way; however, he succeeded so far as to get some room, but just as he
+was going to thrust his head out, a new misfortune occurred. A hungry
+wolf ran thither, and swallowed the whole stomach at one gulp.
+Thumbling did not lose courage. “Perhaps,” thought he, “the wolf will
+listen to what I have got to say,” and he called to him from out of his
+stomach, “Dear wolf, I know of a magnificent feast for you.”
+
+“Where is it to be had?” said the wolf.
+
+“In such and such a house; thou must creep into it through the
+kitchen-sink, and wilt find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and as much
+of them as thou canst eat,” and he described to him exactly his
+father’s house. The wolf did not require to be told this twice,
+squeezed himself in at night through the sink, and ate to his heart’s
+content in the larder. When he had eaten his fill, he wanted to go out
+again, but he had become so big that he could not go out by the same
+way. Thumbling had reckoned on this, and now began to make a violent
+noise in the wolf’s body, and raged and screamed as loudly as he could.
+“Wilt thou be quiet,” said the wolf, “thou wilt waken up the people!”
+“Eh, what,” replied the little fellow, “thou hast eaten thy fill, and I
+will make merry likewise,” and began once more to scream with all his
+strength. At last his father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to
+the room and looked in through the opening in the door. When they saw
+that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and the husband fetched his axe,
+and the wife the scythe. “Stay behind,” said the man, when they entered
+the room. “When I have given him a blow, if he is not killed by it,
+thou must cut him down and hew his body to pieces.” Then Thumbling
+heard his parents, voices and cried, “Dear father, I am here; I am in
+the wolf’s body.” Said the father, full of joy, “Thank God, our dear
+child has found us again,” and bade the woman take away her scythe,
+that Thumbling might not be hurt with it. After that he raised his arm,
+and struck the wolf such a blow on his head that he fell down dead, and
+then they got knives and scissors and cut his body open and drew the
+little fellow forth. “Ah,” said the father, “what sorrow we have gone
+through for thy sake.” “Yes father, I have gone about the world a great
+deal. Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again!” “Where hast thou been,
+then?” “Ah, father, I have been in a mouse’s hole, in a cow’s stomach,
+and then in a wolf’s; now I will stay with you.” “And we will not sell
+thee again, no, not for all the riches in the world,” said his parents,
+and they embraced and kissed their dear Thumbling. They gave him to eat
+and to drink, and had some new clothes made for him, for his own had
+been spoiled on his journey.

content/library/grimm/038_the_wedding_of_mrs_fox.txt

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+The Wedding of Mrs. Fox
+
+FIRST STORY
+
+
+There was once on a time an old fox with nine tails, who believed that
+his wife was not faithful to him, and wished to try her. He stretched
+himself out under the bench, did not move a limb, and behaved as if he
+were stone dead. Mrs. Fox went up to her room, shut herself in, and her
+maid, Miss Cat, sat by the fire, and did the cooking. When it became
+known that the old fox was dead, wooers presented themselves. The maid
+heard some one standing at the house-door, knocking. She went and
+opened it, and it was a young fox, who said,
+
+“What may you be about, Miss Cat?
+Do you sleep or do you wake?”
+
+
+She answered,
+
+“I am not sleeping, I am waking,
+Wouldst thou know what I am making?
+I am boiling warm beer with butter so nice,
+Will the gentleman enter and drink some likewise?”
+
+
+“No, thank you, miss,” said the fox, “what is Mrs. Fox doing?” The maid
+replied,
+
+“She sits all alone,
+And makes her moan,
+Weeping her little eyes quite red,
+Because old Mr. Fox is dead.”
+
+
+“Do just tell her, miss, that a young fox is here, who would like to
+woo her.” “Certainly, young sir.”
+
+The cat goes up the stairs trip, trap,
+The door she knocks at tap, tap, tap,
+“Mistress Fox, are you inside?”
+“Oh yes, my little cat,” she cried.
+“A wooer he stands at the door out there.”
+“Tell me what he is like, my dear?”
+
+
+“But has he nine as beautiful tails as the late Mr. Fox?” “Oh, no,”
+answered the cat, “he has only one.”
+
+“Then I will not have him.” Miss Cat went downstairs and sent the wooer
+away. Soon afterwards there was another knock, and another fox was at
+the door who wished to woo Mrs. Fox. He had two tails, but he did not
+fare better than the first. After this still more came, each with one
+tail more than the other, but they were all turned away, until at last
+one came who had nine tails, like old Mr. Fox. When the widow heard
+that, she said joyfully to the cat,
+
+“Now open the gates and doors all wide,
+And carry old Mr. Fox outside.”
+
+
+But just as the wedding was going to be solemnized, old Mr. Fox stirred
+under the bench, and cudgelled all the rabble, and drove them and Mrs.
+Fox out of the house.
+
+SECOND STORY
+
+
+When old Mr. Fox was dead, the wolf came as a wooer, and knocked at the
+door, and the cat who was servant to Mrs. Fox, opened it for him. The
+wolf greeted her, and said,
+
+“Good day, Mrs. Cat of Kehrewit,
+“How comes it that alone you sit?
+What are you making good?”
+
+
+The cat replied,
+
+“In milk I’m breaking bread so sweet,
+Will the gentleman please come in and eat?”
+
+
+“No, thank you, Mrs. Cat,” answered the wolf. “Is Mrs. Fox not at
+home?”
+
+The cat said,
+
+“She sits upstairs in her room,
+Bewailing her sorrowful doom,
+Bewailing her trouble so sore,
+For old Mr. Fox is no more.”
+
+
+The wolf answered,
+
+“If she’s in want of a husband now,
+Then will it please her to step below?”
+The cat runs quickly up the stair,
+And lets her tail fly here and there,
+Until she comes to the parlour door.
+With her five gold rings at the door she knocks,
+“Are you within, good Mistress Fox?
+If you’re in want of a husband now,
+Then will it please you to step below?
+
+
+Mrs. Fox asked, “Has the gentleman red stockings on’ and has he a
+pointed mouth?” “No,” answered the cat. “Then he won’t do for me.”
+
+When the wolf was gone, came a dog, a stag, a hare, a bear, a lion, and
+all the beasts of the forest, one after the other. But one of the good
+points which old Mr. Fox had possessed, was always lacking, and the cat
+had continually to send the wooers away. At length came a young fox.
+Then Mrs. Fox said, “Has the gentleman red stockings on, and has he a
+little pointed mouth?” “Yes,” said the cat, “he has.” “Then let him
+come upstairs,” said Mrs. Fox, and ordered the servant to prepare the
+wedding-feast.
+
+“Sweep me the room as clean as you can,
+Up with the window, fling out my old man!
+For many a fine fat mouse he brought,
+Yet of his wife he never thought,
+But ate up every one he caught.”
+
+
+Then the wedding was solemnized with young Mr. Fox, and there was much
+rejoicing and dancing; and if they have not left off, they are dancing
+still.

content/library/grimm/039_the_elves.txt

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+The Elves
+
+FIRST STORY
+
+
+A shoemaker, by no fault of his own, had become so poor that at last he
+had nothing left but leather for one pair of shoes. So in the evening,
+he cut out the shoes which he wished to begin to make the next morning,
+and as he had a good conscience, he lay down quietly in his bed,
+commended himself to God, and fell asleep. In the morning, after he had
+said his prayers, and was just going to sit down to work, the two shoes
+stood quite finished on his table. He was astounded, and knew not what
+to say to it. He took the shoes in his hands to observe them closer,
+and they were so neatly made that there was not one bad stitch in them,
+just as if they were intended as a masterpiece. Soon after, a buyer
+came in, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more for them
+than was customary, and, with the money, the shoemaker was able to
+purchase leather for two pairs of shoes. He cut them out at night, and
+next morning was about to set to work with fresh courage; but he had no
+need to do so, for, when he got up, they were already made, and buyers
+also were not wanting, who gave him money enough to buy leather for
+four pairs of shoes. The following morning, too, he found the four
+pairs made; and so it went on constantly, what he cut out in the
+evening was finished by the morning, so that he soon had his honest
+independence again, and at last became a wealthy man. Now it befell
+that one evening not long before Christmas, when the man had been
+cutting out, he said to his wife, before going to bed, “What think you
+if we were to stay up to-night to see who it is that lends us this
+helping hand?” The woman liked the idea, and lighted a candle, and then
+they hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind some clothes which
+were hanging up there, and watched. When it was midnight, two pretty
+little naked men came, sat down by the shoemaker’s table, took all the
+work which was cut out before them and began to stitch, and sew, and
+hammer so skilfully and so quickly with their little fingers that the
+shoemaker could not turn away his eyes for astonishment. They did not
+stop until all was done, and stood finished on the table, and they ran
+quickly away.
+
+Next morning the woman said, “The little men have made us rich, and we
+really must show that we are grateful for it. They run about so, and
+have nothing on, and must be cold. I’ll tell thee what I’ll do: I will
+make them little shirts, and coats, and vests, and trousers, and knit
+both of them a pair of stockings, and do thou, too, make them two
+little pairs of shoes.” The man said, “I shall be very glad to do it;”
+and one night, when everything was ready, they laid their presents all
+together on the table instead of the cut-out work, and then concealed
+themselves to see how the little men would behave. At midnight they
+came bounding in, and wanted to get to work at once, but as they did
+not find any leather cut out, but only the pretty little articles of
+clothing, they were at first astonished, and then they showed intense
+delight. They dressed themselves with the greatest rapidity, putting
+the pretty clothes on, and singing,
+
+“Now we are boys so fine to see,
+Why should we longer cobblers be?”
+
+
+Then they danced and skipped and leapt over chairs and benches. At last
+they danced out of doors. From that time forth they came no more, but
+as long as the shoemaker lived all went well with him, and all his
+undertakings prospered.
+
+SECOND STORY
+
+
+There was once a poor servant-girl, who was industrious and cleanly,
+and swept the house every day, and emptied her sweepings on the great
+heap in front of the door. One morning when she was just going back to
+her work, she found a letter on this heap, and as she could not read,
+she put her broom in the corner, and took the letter to her master and
+mistress, and behold it was an invitation from the elves, who asked the
+girl to hold a child for them at its christening. The girl did not know
+what to do, but at length, after much persuasion, and as they told her
+that it was not right to refuse an invitation of this kind, she
+consented. Then three elves came and conducted her to a hollow
+mountain, where the little folks lived. Everything there was small, but
+more elegant and beautiful than can be described. The baby’s mother lay
+in a bed of black ebony ornamented with pearls, the coverlids were
+embroidered with gold, the cradle was of ivory, the bath of gold. The
+girl stood as godmother, and then wanted to go home again, but the
+little elves urgently entreated her to stay three days with them. So
+she stayed, and passed the time in pleasure and gaiety, and the little
+folks did all they could to make her happy. At last she set out on her
+way home. Then first they filled her pockets quite full of money, and
+after that they led her out of the mountain again. When she got home,
+she wanted to begin her work, and took the broom, which was still
+standing in the corner, in her hand and began to sweep. Then some
+strangers came out of the house, who asked her who she was, and what
+business she had there? And she had not, as she thought, been three
+days with the little men in the mountains, but seven years, and in the
+meantime her former masters had died.
+
+THIRD STORY
+
+
+A certain mother’s child had been taken away out of its cradle by the
+elves, and a changeling with a large head and staring eyes, which would
+do nothing but eat and drink, laid in its place. In her trouble she
+went to her neighbour, and asked her advice. The neighbour said that
+she was to carry the changeling into the kitchen, set it down on the
+hearth, light a fire, and boil some water in two egg-shells, which
+would make the changeling laugh, and if he laughed, all would be over
+with him. The woman did everything that her neighbour bade her. When
+she put the egg-shells with water on the fire, the imp said, “I am as
+old now as the Wester forest, but never yet have I seen any one boil
+anything in an egg-shell!” And he began to laugh at it. Whilst he was
+laughing, suddenly came a host of little elves, who brought the right
+child, set it down on the hearth, and took the changeling away with
+them.

content/library/grimm/040_the_robber_bridegroom.txt

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+The Robber Bridegroom
+
+There was once on a time a miller, who had a beautiful daughter, and as
+she was grown up, he wished that she was provided for, and well
+married. He thought, “If any good suitor comes and asks for her, I will
+give her to him.” Not long afterwards, a suitor came, who appeared to
+be very rich, and as the miller had no fault to find with him, he
+promised his daughter to him. The maiden, however, did not like him
+quite so much as a girl should like the man to whom she is engaged, and
+had no confidence in him. Whenever she saw, or thought of him, she felt
+a secret horror. Once he said to her, “Thou art my betrothed, and yet
+thou hast never once paid me a visit.” The maiden replied, “I know not
+where thy house is.” Then said the bridegroom, “My house is out there
+in the dark forest.” She tried to excuse herself and said she could not
+find the way there. The bridegroom said, “Next Sunday thou must come
+out there to me; I have already invited the guests, and I will strew
+ashes in order that thou mayst find thy way through the forest.” When
+Sunday came, and the maiden had to set out on her way, she became very
+uneasy, she herself knew not exactly why, and to mark her way she
+filled both her pockets full of peas and lentils. Ashes were strewn at
+the entrance of the forest, and these she followed, but at every step
+she threw a couple of peas on the ground. She walked almost the whole
+day until she reached the middle of the forest, where it was the
+darkest, and there stood a solitary house, which she did not like, for
+it looked so dark and dismal. She went inside it, but no one was
+within, and the most absolute stillness reigned. Suddenly a voice
+cried,
+
+“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
+’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.”
+
+
+The maiden looked up, and saw that the voice came from a bird, which
+was hanging in a cage on the wall. Again it cried,
+
+“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
+’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.”
+
+
+Then the young maiden went on farther from one room to another, and
+walked through the whole house, but it was entirely empty and not one
+human being was to be found. At last she came to the the cellar, and
+there sat an extremely aged woman, whose head shook constantly. “Can
+you not tell me,” said the maiden, “if my betrothed lives here?”
+
+“Alas, poor child,” replied the old woman, “whither hast thou come?
+Thou art in a murderer’s den. Thou thinkest thou art a bride soon to be
+married, but thou wilt keep thy wedding with death. Look, I have been
+forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it, and when they
+have thee in their power, they will cut thee to pieces without mercy,
+will cook thee, and eat thee, for they are eaters of human flesh. If I
+do not have compassion on thee, and save thee, thou art lost.”
+
+Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great hogshead where she could
+not be seen. “Be as still as a mouse,” said she, “do not make a sound,
+or move, or all will be over with thee. At night, when the robbers are
+asleep, we will escape; I have long waited for an opportunity.” Hardly
+was this done, than the godless crew came home. They dragged with them
+another young girl. They were drunk, and paid no heed to her screams
+and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full, one
+glass of white wine, one glass of red, and a glass of yellow, and with
+this her heart burst in twain. Thereupon they tore off her delicate
+raiment, laid her on a table, cut her beautiful body in pieces and
+strewed salt thereon. The poor bride behind the cask trembled and
+shook, for she saw right well what fate the robbers had destined for
+her. One of them noticed a gold ring on the little finger of the
+murdered girl, and as it would not come off at once, he took an axe and
+cut the finger off, but it sprang up in the air, away over the cask and
+fell straight into the bride’s bosom. The robber took a candle and
+wanted to look for it, but could not find it. Then another of them
+said, “Hast thou looked behind the great hogshead?” But the old woman
+cried, “Come and get something to eat, and leave off looking till the
+morning, the finger won’t run away from you.”
+
+Then the robbers said, “The old woman is right,” and gave up their
+search, and sat down to eat, and the old woman poured a
+sleeping-draught in their wine, so that they soon lay down in the
+cellar, and slept and snored. When the bride heard that, she came out
+from behind the hogshead, and had to step over the sleepers, for they
+lay in rows on the ground, and great was her terror lest she should
+waken one of them. But God helped her, and she got safely over. The old
+woman went up with her, opened the doors, and they hurried out of the
+murderers’ den with all the speed in their power. The wind had blown
+away the strewn ashes, but the peas and lentils had sprouted and grown
+up, and showed them the way in the moonlight. They walked the whole
+night, until in the morning they arrived at the mill, and then the
+maiden told her father everything exactly as it had happened.
+
+When the day came when the wedding was to be celebrated, the bridegroom
+appeared, and the Miller had invited all his relations and friends. As
+they sat at table, each was bidden to relate something. The bride sat
+still, and said nothing. Then said the bridegroom to the bride, “Come,
+my darling, dost thou know nothing? Relate something to us like the
+rest.” She replied, “Then I will relate a dream. I was walking alone
+through a wood, and at last I came to a house, in which no living soul
+was, but on the wall there was a bird in a cage which cried,
+
+“Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
+’Tis a murderer’s house you enter here.”
+
+
+And this it cried once more. ‘My darling, I only dreamt this. Then I
+went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and there was
+something so horrible about them! At last I went down into the cellar,
+and there sat a very very old woman, whose head shook; I asked her,
+‘Does my bridegroom live in this house? She answered, ‘Alas poor child,
+thou hast got into a murderer’s den, thy bridegroom does live here, but
+he will hew thee in pieces, and kill thee, and then he will cook thee,
+and eat thee.’ My darling, I only dreamt this. But the old woman hid me
+behind a great hogshead, and, scarcely was I hidden, when the robbers
+came home, dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three kinds
+of wine to drink, white, red, and yellow, with which her heart broke in
+twain. My darling, I only dreamt this. Thereupon they pulled off her
+pretty clothes, and hewed her fair body in pieces on a table, and
+sprinkled them with salt. My darling, I only dreamt this. And one of
+the robbers saw that there was still a ring on her little finger, and
+as it was hard to draw off, he took an axe and cut it off, but the
+finger sprang up in the air, and sprang behind the great hogshead, and
+fell in my bosom. And there is the finger with the ring!” And with
+these words she drew it forth, and showed it to those present.
+
+The robber, who had during this story become as pale as ashes, leapt up
+and wanted to escape, but the guests held him fast, and delivered him
+over to justice. Then he and his whole troop were executed for their
+infamous deeds.

content/library/grimm/041_herr_korbes.txt

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+Herr Korbes
+
+There were once a cock and a hen who wanted to take a journey together.
+So the cock built a beautiful carriage, which had four red wheels, and
+harnessed four mice to it. The hen seated herself in it with the cock,
+and they drove away together. Not long afterwards they met a cat who
+said, “Where are you going?” The cock replied, “We are going to the
+house of Herr Korbes.” “Take me with you,” said the cat. The cock
+answered, “Most willingly, get up behind, lest you fall off in front.
+Take great care not to dirty my little red wheels. And you little
+wheels, roll on, and you little mice pipe out, as we go forth on our
+way to the house of Herr Korbes.”
+
+After this came a millstone, then an egg, then a duck, then a pin, and
+at last a needle, who all seated themselves in the carriage, and drove
+with them. When, however, they reached the house of Herr Korbes, Herr
+Korbes was not there. The mice drew the carriage into the barn, the hen
+flew with the cock upon a perch. The cat sat down by the hearth, the
+duck on the well-pole. The egg rolled itself into a towel, the pin
+stuck itself into the chair-cushion, the needle jumped on to the bed in
+the middle of the pillow, and the millstone laid itself over the door.
+Then Herr Korbes came home, went to the hearth, and was about to light
+the fire, when the cat threw a quantity of ashes in his face. He ran
+into the kitchen in a great hurry to wash it off, and the duck splashed
+some water in his face. He wanted to dry it with the towel, but the egg
+rolled up against him, broke, and glued up his eyes. He wanted to rest,
+and sat down in the chair, and then the pin pricked him. He fell in a
+passion, and threw himself on his bed, but as soon as he laid his head
+on the pillow, the needle pricked him, so that he screamed aloud, and
+was just going to run out into the wide world in his rage, but when he
+came to the house-door, the millstone leapt down and struck him dead.
+Herr Korbes must have been a very wicked man!

content/library/grimm/042_the_godfather.txt

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+The Godfather
+
+A poor man had so many children that he had already asked every one in
+the world to be godfather, and when still another child was born, no
+one else was left whom he could invite. He knew not what to do, and, in
+his perplexity, he lay down and fell asleep. Then he dreamt that he was
+to go outside the gate, and ask the first person who met him to be
+godfather. When he awoke, he determined to obey his dream, and went
+outside the gate, and asked the first person who came up to him to be
+godfather. The stranger presented him with a little glass of water, and
+said, “This is a wonderful water, with it thou canst heal the sick,
+only thou must see where Death is standing. If he is standing by the
+patient’s head, give the patient some of the water and he will be
+healed, but if Death is standing by his feet, all trouble will be in
+vain, for the sick man must die.” From this time forth, the man could
+always say whether a patient could be saved or not, and became famous
+for his skill, and earned a great deal of money. Once he was called in
+to the child of the King, and when he entered, he saw death standing by
+the child’s head and cured it with the water, and he did the same a
+second time, but the third time Death was standing by its feet, and
+then he knew the child was forced to die.
+
+Once the man thought he would visit the godfather, and tell him how he
+had succeeded with the water. But when he entered the house, it was
+such a strange establishment! On the first flight of stairs, the broom
+and shovel were disputing, and knocking each other about violently. He
+asked them, “Where does the godfather live?” The broom replied, “One
+flight of stairs higher up.” When he came to the second flight, he saw
+a heap of dead fingers lying. He asked, “Where does the godfather
+live?” One of the fingers replied, “One flight of stairs higher.” On
+the third flight lay a heap of dead heads, which again directed him to
+the flight beyond. On the fourth flight, he saw fishes on the fire,
+which frizzled in the pans and baked themselves. They, too, said, “One
+flight of stairs higher.” And when he had ascended the fifth, he came
+to the door of a room and peeped through the keyhole, and there he saw
+the godfather who had a pair of long horns. When he opened the door and
+went in, the godfather got into bed in a great hurry and covered
+himself up. Then said the man, “Sir godfather, what a strange household
+you have! When I came to your first flight of stairs, the shovel and
+broom were quarreling, and beating each other violently.”
+
+“How stupid you are!” said the godfather. “That was the boy and the
+maid talking to each other.” “But on the second flight I saw dead
+fingers lying.” “Oh, how silly you are! Those were some roots of
+scorzonera.” “On the third flight lay a heap of dead men’s heads.”
+“Foolish man, those were cabbages.” “On the fourth flight, I saw fishes
+in a pan, which were hissing and baking themselves.” When he had said
+that, the fishes came and served themselves up. “And when I got to the
+fifth flight, I peeped through the keyhole of a door, and there,
+godfather, I saw you, and you had long, long horns.” “Oh, that is a
+lie!” The man became alarmed, and ran out, and if he had not, who knows
+what the godfather would have done to him.

content/library/grimm/043_frau_trude.txt

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+Frau Trude
+
+There was once a little girl who was obstinate and inquisitive, and
+when her parents told her to do anything, she did not obey them, so how
+could she fare well? One day she said to her parents, “I have heard so
+much of Frau Trude, I will go to her some day. People say that
+everything about her does look so strange, and that there are such odd
+things in her house, that I have become quite curious!” Her parents
+absolutely forbade her, and said, “Frau Trude is a bad woman, who does
+wicked things, and if thou goest to her; thou art no longer our child.”
+But the maiden did not let herself be turned aside by her parent’s
+prohibition, and still went to Frau Trude. And when she got to her,
+Frau Trude said, “Why art thou so pale?” “Ah,” she replied, and her
+whole body trembled, “I have been so terrified at what I have seen.”
+“What hast thou seen?” “I saw a black man on your steps.” “That was a
+collier.” “Then I saw a green man.” “That was a huntsman.” “After that
+I saw a blood-red man.” “That was a butcher.” “Ah, Frau Trude, I was
+terrified; I looked through the window and saw not you, but, as I
+verily believe, the devil himself with a head of fire.” “Oho!” said
+she, “then thou hast seen the witch in her proper costume. I have been
+waiting for thee, and wanting thee a long time already; thou shalt give
+me some light.” Then she changed the girl into a block of wood, and
+threw it into the fire. And when it was in full blaze she sat down
+close to it, and warmed herself by it, and said, “That shines bright
+for once in a way.”

content/library/grimm/044_godfather_death.txt

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+Godfather Death
+
+A poor man had twelve children and was forced to work night and day to
+give them even bread. When therefore the thirteenth came into the
+world, he knew not what to do in his trouble, but ran out into the
+great highway, and resolved to ask the first person whom he met to be
+godfather. The first to meet him was the good God who already knew what
+filled his heart, and said to him, “Poor man, I pity thee. I will hold
+thy child at its christening, and will take charge of it and make it
+happy on earth.” The man said, “Who art thou?” “I am God.” “Then I do
+not desire to have thee for a godfather,” said the man; “thou givest to
+the rich, and leavest the poor to hunger.” Thus spoke the man, for he
+did not know how wisely God apportions riches and poverty. He turned
+therefore away from the Lord, and went farther. Then the Devil came to
+him and said, “What seekest thou? If thou wilt take me as a godfather
+for thy child, I will give him gold in plenty and all the joys of the
+world as well.” The man asked, “Who art thou?” “I am the Devil.” “Then
+I do not desire to have thee for godfather,” said the man; “thou
+deceivest men and leadest them astray.” He went onwards, and then came
+Death striding up to him with withered legs, and said, “Take me as
+godfather.” The man asked, “Who art thou?” “I am Death, and I make all
+equal.” Then said the man, “Thou art the right one, thou takest the
+rich as well as the poor, without distinction; thou shalt be
+godfather.” Death answered, “I will make thy child rich and famous, for
+he who has me for a friend can lack nothing.” The man said, “Next
+Sunday is the christening; be there at the right time.” Death appeared
+as he had promised, and stood godfather quite in the usual way.
+
+When the boy had grown up, his godfather one day appeared and bade him
+go with him. He led him forth into a forest, and showed him a herb
+which grew there, and said, “Now shalt thou receive thy godfather’s
+present. I make thee a celebrated physician. When thou art called to a
+patient, I will always appear to thee. If I stand by the head of the
+sick man, thou mayst say with confidence that thou wilt make him well
+again, and if thou givest him of this herb he will recover; but if I
+stand by the patient’s feet, he is mine, and thou must say that all
+remedies are in vain, and that no physician in the world could save
+him. But beware of using the herb against my will, or it might fare ill
+with thee.”
+
+It was not long before the youth was the most famous physician in the
+whole world. “He had only to look at the patient and he knew his
+condition at once, and if he would recover, or must needs die.” So they
+said of him, and from far and wide people came to him, sent for him
+when they had any one ill, and gave him so much money that he soon
+became a rich man. Now it so befell that the King became ill, and the
+physician was summoned, and was to say if recovery were possible. But
+when he came to the bed, Death was standing by the feet of the sick
+man, and the herb did not grow which could save him. “If I could but
+cheat Death for once,” thought the physician, “he is sure to take it
+ill if I do, but, as I am his godson, he will shut one eye; I will risk
+it.” He therefore took up the sick man, and laid him the other way, so
+that now Death was standing by his head. Then he gave the King some of
+the herb, and he recovered and grew healthy again. But Death came to
+the physician, looking very black and angry, threatened him with his
+finger, and said, “Thou hast overreached me; this time I will pardon
+it, as thou art my godson; but if thou venturest it again, it will cost
+thee thy neck, for I will take thee thyself away with me.”
+
+Soon afterwards the King’s daughter fell into a severe illness. She was
+his only child, and he wept day and night, so that he began to lose the
+sight of his eyes, and he caused it to be made known that whosoever
+rescued her from death should be her husband and inherit the crown.
+When the physician came to the sick girl’s bed, he saw Death by her
+feet. He ought to have remembered the warning given by his godfather,
+but he was so infatuated by the great beauty of the King’s daughter,
+and the happiness of becoming her husband, that he flung all thought to
+the winds. He did not see that Death was casting angry glances on him,
+that he was raising his hand in the air, and threatening him with his
+withered fist. He raised up the sick girl, and placed her head where
+her feet had lain. Then he gave her some of the herb, and instantly her
+cheeks flushed red, and life stirred afresh in her.
+
+When Death saw that for a second time he was defrauded of his own
+property, he walked up to the physician with long strides, and said,
+“All is over with thee, and now the lot falls on thee,” and seized him
+so firmly with his ice-cold hand, that he could not resist, and led him
+into a cave below the earth. There he saw how thousands and thousands
+of candles were burning in countless rows, some large, others
+half-sized, others small. Every instant some were extinguished, and
+others again burnt up, so that the flames seemed to leap hither and
+thither in perpetual change. “See,” said Death, “these are the lights
+of men’s lives. The large ones belong to children, the half-sized ones
+to married people in their prime, the little ones belong to old people;
+but children and young folks likewise have often only a tiny candle.”
+“Show me the light of my life,” said the physician, and he thought that
+it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end which was
+just threatening to go out, and said, “Behold, it is there.” “Ah, dear
+godfather,” said the horrified physician, “light a new one for me, do
+it for love of me, that I may enjoy my life, be King, and the husband
+of the King’s beautiful daughter.” “I cannot,” answered Death, “one
+must go out before a new one is lighted.” “Then place the old one on a
+new one, that will go on burning at once when the old one has come to
+an end,” pleaded the physician. Death behaved as if he were going to
+fulfill his wish, and took hold of a tall new candle; but as he desired
+to revenge himself, he purposely made a mistake in fixing it, and the
+little piece fell down and was extinguished. Immediately the physician
+fell on the ground, and now he himself was in the hands of Death.

content/library/grimm/045_thumbling_as_journeyman.txt

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+Thumbling as Journeyman
+
+A certain tailor had a son, who happened to be small, and no bigger
+than a Thumb, and on this account he was always called Thumbling. He
+had, however, some courage in him, and said to his father, “Father, I
+must and will go out into the world.” “That’s right, my son,” said the
+old man, and took a long darning-needle and made a knob of sealing-wax
+on it at the candle, “and there is a sword for thee to take with thee
+on the way.” Then the little tailor wanted to have one more meal with
+them, and hopped into the kitchen to see what his lady mother had
+cooked for the last time. It was, however, just dished up, and the dish
+stood on the hearth. Then he said, “Mother, what is there to eat
+to-day?” “See for thyself,” said his mother. So Thumbling jumped on to
+the hearth, and peeped into the dish, but as he stretched his neck in
+too far the steam from the food caught hold of him, and carried him up
+the chimney. He rode about in the air on the steam for a while, until
+at length he sank down to the ground again. Now the little tailor was
+outside in the wide world, and he travelled about, and went to a master
+in his craft, but the food was not good enough for him. “Mistress, if
+you give us no better food,” said Thumbling, “I will go away, and early
+to-morrow morning I will write with chalk on the door of your house,
+‘Too many potatoes, too little meat! Farewell, Mr. Potato-King.’” “What
+wouldst thou have forsooth, grasshopper?” said the mistress, and grew
+angry, and seized a dishcloth, and was just going to strike him; but my
+little tailor crept nimbly under a thimble, peeped out from beneath it,
+and put his tongue out at the mistress. She took up the thimble, and
+wanted to get hold of him, but little Thumbling hopped into the cloth,
+and while the mistress was opening it out and looking for him, he got
+into a crevice in the table. “Ho, ho, lady mistress,” cried he, and
+thrust his head out, and when she began to strike him he leapt down
+into the drawer. At last, however, she caught him and drove him out of
+the house.
+
+The little tailor journeyed on and came to a great forest, and there he
+fell in with a band of robbers who had a design to steal the King’s
+treasure. When they saw the little tailor, they thought, “A little
+fellow like that can creep through a key-hole and serve as picklock to
+us.” “Hollo,” cried one of them, “thou giant Goliath, wilt thou go to
+the treasure-chamber with us? Thou canst slip thyself in and throw out
+the money.” Thumbling reflected a while, and at length he said, “yes,”
+and went with them to the treasure-chamber. Then he looked at the doors
+above and below, to see if there was any crack in them. It was not long
+before he espied one which was broad enough to let him in. He was
+therefore about to get in at once, but one of the two sentries who
+stood before the door, observed him, and said to the other, “What an
+ugly spider is creeping there; I will kill it.” “Let the poor creature
+alone,” said the other; “it has done thee no harm.” Then Thumbling got
+safely through the crevice into the treasure-chamber, opened the window
+beneath which the robbers were standing, and threw out to them one
+thaler after another. When the little tailor was in the full swing of
+his work, he heard the King coming to inspect his treasure-chamber, and
+crept hastily into a hiding-place. The King noticed that several solid
+thalers were missing, but could not conceive who could have stolen
+them, for locks and bolts were in good condition, and all seemed well
+guarded. Then he went away again, and said to the sentries, “Be on the
+watch, some one is after the money.” When therefore Thumbling
+recommenced his labours, they heard the money moving, and a sound of
+klink, klink, klink. They ran swiftly in to seize the thief, but the
+little tailor, who heard them coming, was still swifter, and leapt into
+a corner and covered himself with a thaler, so that nothing could be
+seen of him, and at the same time he mocked the sentries and cried,
+“Here am I!” The sentries ran thither, but as they got there, he had
+already hopped into another corner under a thaler, and was crying, “Ho,
+ho, here am I!” The watchmen sprang there in haste, but Thumbling had
+long ago got into a third corner, and was crying, “Ho, ho, here am I!”
+And thus he made fools of them, and drove them so long round about the
+treasure-chamber that they were weary and went away. Then by degrees he
+threw all the thalers out, dispatching the last with all his might,
+then hopped nimbly upon it, and flew down with it through the window.
+The robbers paid him great compliments. “Thou art a valiant hero,” said
+they; “wilt thou be our captain?”
+
+Thumbling, however, declined, and said he wanted to see the world
+first. They now divided the booty, but the little tailor only asked for
+a kreuzer because he could not carry more.
+
+Then he once more buckled on his sword, bade the robbers goodbye, and
+took to the road. First, he went to work with some masters, but he had
+no liking for that, and at last he hired himself as man-servant in an
+inn. The maids, however, could not endure him, for he saw all they did
+secretly, without their seeing him, and he told their master and
+mistress what they had taken off the plates, and carried away out of
+the cellar, for themselves. Then said they, “Wait, and we will pay thee
+off!” and arranged with each other to play him a trick. Soon afterwards
+when one of the maids was mowing in the garden, and saw Thumbling
+jumping about and creeping up and down the plants, she mowed him up
+quickly with the grass, tied all in a great cloth, and secretly threw
+it to the cows. Now amongst them there was a great black one, who
+swallowed him down without hurting him. Down below, however, it pleased
+him ill, for it was quite dark, neither was any candle burning. When
+the cow was being milked he cried,
+
+“Strip, strap, strull,
+Will the pail soon be full?”
+
+
+But the noise of the milking prevented his being understood. After this
+the master of the house came into the cow-byre and said, “That cow
+shall be killed to-morrow.” Then Thumbling was so alarmed that he cried
+out in a clear voice, “Let me out first, for I am shut up inside her.”
+The master heard that quite well, but did not know from whence the
+voice came. “Where art thou?” asked he. “In the black one,” answered
+Thumbling, but the master did not understand what that meant, and went
+out.
+
+Next morning the cow was killed. Happily Thumbling did not meet with
+one blow at the cutting up and chopping; he got among the sausage-meat.
+And when the butcher came in and began his work, he cried out with all
+his might, “Don’t chop too deep, don’t chop too deep, I am amongst it.”
+No one heard this because of the noise of the chopping-knife. Now poor
+Thumbling was in trouble, but trouble sharpens the wits, and he sprang
+out so adroitly between the blows that none of them touched him, and he
+escaped with a whole skin. But still he could not get away, there was
+nothing for it but to let himself be thrust into a black-pudding with
+the bits of bacon. His quarters there were rather confined, and besides
+that he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked, and there time did
+hang terribly heavy on his hands.
+
+At length in winter he was taken down again, as the black-pudding had
+to be set before a guest. When the hostess was cutting it in slices, he
+took care not to stretch out his head too far lest a bit of it should
+be cut off; at last he saw his opportunity, cleared a passage for
+himself, and jumped out.
+
+The little tailor, however, would not stay any longer in a house where
+he fared so ill, so at once set out on his journey again. But his
+liberty did not last long. In the open country he met with a fox who
+snapped him up in a fit of absence. “Hollo, Mr. Fox,” cried the little
+tailor, “it is I who am sticking in your throat, set me at liberty
+again.” “Thou art right,” answered the fox. “Thou art next to nothing
+for me, but if thou wilt promise me the fowls in thy father’s yard I
+will let thee go.” “With all my heart,” replied Thumbling. “Thou shalt
+have all the cocks and hens, that I promise thee.” Then the fox let him
+go again, and himself carried him home. When the father once more saw
+his dear son, he willingly gave the fox all the fowls which he had.
+“For this I likewise bring thee a handsome bit of money,” said
+Thumbling, and gave his father the kreuzer which he earned on his
+travels.
+
+“But why did the fox get the poor chickens to eat?” “Oh, you goose,
+your father would surely love his child far more than the fowls in the
+yard!”

content/library/grimm/046_fitchers_bird.txt

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+Fitcher’s Bird
+
+There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor man, and
+went to houses and begged, and caught pretty girls. No one knew whither
+he carried them, for they were never seen more. One day he appeared
+before the door of a man who had three pretty daughters; he looked like
+a poor weak beggar, and carried a basket on his back, as if he meant to
+collect charitable gifts in it. He begged for a little food, and when
+the eldest daughter came out and was just reaching him a piece of
+bread, he did but touch her, and she was forced to jump into his
+basket. Thereupon he hurried away with long strides, and carried her
+away into a dark forest to his house, which stood in the midst of it.
+Everything in the house was magnificent; he gave her whatsoever she
+could possibly desire, and said, “My darling, thou wilt certainly be
+happy with me, for thou hast everything thy heart can wish for.” This
+lasted a few days, and then he said, “I must journey forth, and leave
+thee alone for a short time; there are the keys of the house; thou
+mayst go everywhere and look at everything except into one room, which
+this little key here opens, and there I forbid thee to go on pain of
+death.” He likewise gave her an egg and said, “Preserve the egg
+carefully for me, and carry it continually about with thee, for a great
+misfortune would arise from the loss of it.”
+
+She took the keys and the egg, and promised to obey him in everything.
+When he was gone, she went all round the house from the bottom to the
+top, and examined everything. The rooms shone with silver and gold, and
+she thought she had never seen such great splendour. At length she came
+to the forbidden door; she wished to pass it by, but curiosity let her
+have no rest. She examined the key, it looked just like any other; she
+put it in the keyhole and turned it a little, and the door sprang open.
+But what did she see when she went in? A great bloody basin stood in
+the middle of the room, and therein lay human beings, dead and hewn to
+pieces, and hard by was a block of wood, and a gleaming axe lay upon
+it. She was so terribly alarmed that the egg which she held in her hand
+fell into the basin. She got it out and washed the blood off, but in
+vain, it appeared again in a moment. She washed and scrubbed, but she
+could not get it out.
+
+It was not long before the man came back from his journey, and the
+first things which he asked for were the key and the egg. She gave them
+to him, but she trembled as she did so, and he saw at once by the red
+spots that she had been in the bloody chamber. “Since thou hast gone
+into the room against my will,” said he, “thou shalt go back into it
+against thine own. Thy life is ended.” He threw her down, dragged her
+thither by her hair, cut her head off on the block, and hewed her in
+pieces so that her blood ran on the ground. Then he threw her into the
+basin with the rest.
+
+“Now I will fetch myself the second,” said the wizard, and again he
+went to the house in the shape of a poor man, and begged. Then the
+second daughter brought him a piece of bread; he caught her like the
+first, by simply touching her, and carried her away. She did not fare
+better than her sister. She allowed herself to be led away by her
+curiosity, opened the door of the bloody chamber, looked in, and had to
+atone for it with her life on the wizard’s return. Then he went and
+brought the third sister, but she was clever and crafty. When he had
+given her the keys and the egg, and had left her, she first put the egg
+away with great care, and then she examined the house, and at last went
+into the forbidden room. Alas, what did she behold! Both her sisters
+lay there in the basin, cruelly murdered, and cut in pieces. But she
+began to gather their limbs together and put them in order, head, body,
+arms and legs. And when nothing further was wanting the limbs began to
+move and unite themselves together, and both the maidens opened their
+eyes and were once more alive. Then they rejoiced and kissed and
+caressed each other.
+
+On his arrival, the man at once demanded the keys and the egg, and as
+he could perceive no trace of any blood on it, he said, “Thou hast
+stood the test, thou shalt be my bride.” He now had no longer any power
+over her, and was forced to do whatsoever she desired. “Oh, very well,”
+said she, “thou shalt first take a basketful of gold to my father and
+mother, and carry it thyself on thy back; in the meantime I will
+prepare for the wedding.” Then she ran to her sisters, whom she had
+hidden in a little chamber, and said, “The moment has come when I can
+save you. The wretch shall himself carry you home again, but as soon as
+you are at home send help to me.” She put both of them in a basket and
+covered them quite over with gold, so that nothing of them was to be
+seen, then she called in the wizard and said to him, “Now carry the
+basket away, but I shall look through my little window and watch to see
+if thou stoppest on the way to stand or to rest.”
+
+The wizard raised the basket on his back and went away with it, but it
+weighed him down so heavily that the perspiration streamed from his
+face. Then he sat down and wanted to rest awhile, but immediately one
+of the girls in the basket cried, “I am looking through my little
+window, and I see that thou art resting. Wilt thou go on at once?” He
+thought it was his bride who was calling that to him; and got up on his
+legs again. Once more he was going to sit down, but instantly she
+cried, “I am looking through my little window, and I see that thou art
+resting. Wilt thou go on directly?” And whenever he stood still, she
+cried this, and then he was forced to go onwards, until at last,
+groaning and out of breath, he took the basket with the gold and the
+two maidens into their parents’ house. At home, however, the bride
+prepared the marriage-feast, and sent invitations to the friends of the
+wizard. Then she took a skull with grinning teeth, put some ornaments
+on it and a wreath of flowers, carried it upstairs to the
+garret-window, and let it look out from thence. When all was ready, she
+got into a barrel of honey, and then cut the feather-bed open and
+rolled herself in it, until she looked like a wondrous bird, and no one
+could recognize her. Then she went out of the house, and on her way she
+met some of the wedding-guests, who asked,
+
+“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?”
+“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.”
+“And what may the young bride be doing?”
+“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean,
+And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.”
+
+
+At last she met the bridegroom, who was coming slowly back. He, like
+the others, asked,
+
+“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?”
+“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.”
+“And what may the young bride be doing?
+“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean,
+And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.”
+
+
+The bridegroom looked up, saw the decked-out skull, thought it was his
+bride, and nodded to her, greeting her kindly. But when he and his
+guests had all gone into the house, the brothers and kinsmen of the
+bride, who had been sent to rescue her, arrived. They locked all the
+doors of the house, that no one might escape, set fire to it, and the
+wizard and all his crew had to burn.

content/library/grimm/047_the_juniper_tree.txt

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+The Juniper-Tree
+
+It is now long ago, quite two thousand years, since there was a rich
+man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other
+dearly. They had, however, no children, though they wished for them
+very much, and the woman prayed for them day and night, but still they
+had none. Now there was a court-yard in front of their house in which
+was a juniper-tree, and one day in winter the woman was standing
+beneath it, paring herself an apple, and while she was paring herself
+the apple she cut her finger, and the blood fell on the snow. “Ah,”
+said the woman, and sighed right heavily, and looked at the blood
+before her, and was most unhappy, “ah, if I had but a child as red as
+blood and as white as snow!” And while she thus spake, she became quite
+happy in her mind, and felt just as if that were going to happen. Then
+she went into the house and a month went by and the snow was gone, and
+two months, and then everything was green, and three months, and then
+all the flowers came out of the earth, and four months, and then all
+the trees in the wood grew thicker, and the green branches were all
+closely entwined, and the birds sang until the wood resounded and the
+blossoms fell from the trees, then the fifth month passed away and she
+stood under the juniper-tree, which smelt so sweetly that her heart
+leapt, and she fell on her knees and was beside herself with joy, and
+when the sixth month was over the fruit was large and fine, and then
+she was quite still, and the seventh month she snatched at the
+juniper-berries and ate them greedily, then she grew sick and
+sorrowful, then the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to
+her, and wept and said, “If I die then bury me beneath the
+juniper-tree.” Then she was quite comforted and happy until the next
+month was over, and then she had a child as white as snow and as red as
+blood, and when she beheld it she was so delighted that she died.
+
+Then her husband buried her beneath the juniper-tree, and he began to
+weep sore; after some time he was more at ease, and though he still
+wept he could bear it, and after some time longer he took another wife.
+
+By the second wife he had a daughter, but the first wife’s child was a
+little son, and he was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the
+woman looked at her daughter she loved her very much, but then she
+looked at the little boy and it seemed to cut her to the heart, for the
+thought came into her mind that he would always stand in her way, and
+she was for ever thinking how she could get all the fortune for her
+daughter, and the Evil One filled her mind with this till she was quite
+wroth with the little boy, and slapped him here and cuffed him there,
+until the unhappy child was in continual terror, for when he came out
+of school he had no peace in any place.
+
+One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, and her little
+daughter went up too, and said, “Mother, give me an apple.” “Yes, my
+child,” said the woman, and gave her a fine apple out of the chest, but
+the chest had a great heavy lid with a great sharp iron lock. “Mother,”
+said the little daughter, “is brother not to have one too?” This made
+the woman angry, but she said, “Yes, when he comes out of school.” And
+when she saw from the window that he was coming, it was just as if the
+Devil entered into her, and she snatched at the apple and took it away
+again from her daughter, and said, “Thou shalt not have one before thy
+brother.” Then she threw the apple into the chest, and shut it. Then
+the little boy came in at the door, and the Devil made her say to him
+kindly, “My son, wilt thou have an apple?” and she looked wickedly at
+him. “Mother,” said the little boy, “how dreadful you look! Yes, give
+me an apple.” Then it seemed to her as if she were forced to say to
+him, “Come with me,” and she opened the lid of the chest and said,
+“Take out an apple for thyself,” and while the little boy was stooping
+inside, the Devil prompted her, and crash! she shut the lid down, and
+his head flew off and fell among the red apples. Then she was
+overwhelmed with terror, and thought, “If I could but make them think
+that it was not done by me!” So she went upstairs to her room to her
+chest of drawers, and took a white handkerchief out of the top drawer,
+and set the head on the neck again, and folded the handkerchief so that
+nothing could be seen, and she set him on a chair in front of the door,
+and put the apple in his hand.
+
+After this Marlinchen came into the kitchen to her mother, who was
+standing by the fire with a pan of hot water before her which she was
+constantly stirring round. “Mother,” said Marlinchen, “brother is
+sitting at the door, and he looks quite white and has an apple in his
+hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I
+was quite frightened.” “Go back to him,” said her mother, “and if he
+will not answer thee, give him a box on the ear.” So Marlinchen went to
+him and said, “Brother, give me the apple.” But he was silent, and she
+gave him a box on the ear, on which his head fell down. Marlinchen was
+terrified, and began crying and screaming, and ran to her mother, and
+said, “Alas, mother, I have knocked my brother’s head off!” and she
+wept and wept and could not be comforted. “Marlinchen,” said the
+mother, “what hast thou done? but be quiet and let no one know it; it
+cannot be helped now, we will make him into black-puddings.” Then the
+mother took the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the
+pan and made him into black puddings; but Marlinchen stood by weeping
+and weeping, and all her tears fell into the pan and there was no need
+of any salt.
+
+Then the father came home, and sat down to dinner and said, “But where
+is my son?” And the mother served up a great dish of black-puddings,
+and Marlinchen wept and could not leave off. Then the father again
+said, “But where is my son?” “Ah,” said the mother, “he has gone across
+the country to his mother’s great uncle; he will stay there awhile.”
+“And what is he going to do there? He did not even say good-bye to me.”
+
+“Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stay six weeks, he is
+well taken care of there.” “Ah,” said the man, “I feel so unhappy lest
+all should not be right. He ought to have said good-bye to me.” With
+that he began to eat and said, “Marlinchen, why art thou crying? Thy
+brother will certainly come back.” Then he said, “Ah, wife, how
+delicious this food is, give me some more.” And the more he ate the
+more he wanted to have, and he said, “Give me some more, you shall have
+none of it. It seems to me as if it were all mine.” And he ate and ate
+and threw all the bones under the table, until he had finished the
+whole. But Marlinchen went away to her chest of drawers, and took her
+best silk handkerchief out of the bottom drawer, and got all the bones
+from beneath the table, and tied them up in her silk handkerchief, and
+carried them outside the door, weeping tears of blood. Then the
+juniper-tree began to stir itself, and the branches parted asunder, and
+moved together again, just as if some one was rejoicing and clapping
+his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to arise from the tree, and
+in the centre of this mist it burned like a fire, and a beautiful bird
+flew out of the fire singing magnificently, and he flew high up in the
+air, and when he was gone, the juniper-tree was just as it had been
+before, and the handkerchief with the bones was no longer there.
+Marlinchen, however, was as gay and happy as if her brother were still
+alive. And she went merrily into the house, and sat down to dinner and
+ate.
+
+But the bird flew away and lighted on a goldsmith’s house, and began to
+sing,
+
+“My mother she killed me,
+My father he ate me,
+My sister, little Marlinchen,
+Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a gold chain, when he
+heard the bird which was sitting singing on his roof, and very
+beautiful the song seemed to him. He stood up, but as he crossed the
+threshold he lost one of his slippers. But he went away right up the
+middle of the street with one shoe on and one sock; he had his apron
+on, and in one hand he had the gold chain and in the other the pincers,
+and the sun was shining brightly on the street. Then he went right on
+and stood still, and said to the bird, “Bird,” said he then, “how
+beautifully thou canst sing! Sing me that piece again.” “No,” said the
+bird, “I’ll not sing it twice for nothing! Give me the golden chain,
+and then I will sing it again for thee.” “There,” said the goldsmith,
+“there is the golden chain for thee, now sing me that song again.” Then
+the bird came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and went and
+sat in front of the goldsmith, and sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,
+My father he ate me,
+My sister, little Marlinchen,
+Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lighted on his roof and
+sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,
+My father he ate me,
+My sister, little Marlinchen,
+Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+The shoemaker heard that and ran out of doors in his shirt sleeves, and
+looked up at his roof, and was forced to hold his hand before his eyes
+lest the sun should blind him. “Bird,” said he, “how beautifully thou
+canst sing!” Then he called in at his door, “Wife, just come outside,
+there is a bird, look at that bird, he just can sing well.” Then he
+called his daughter and children, and apprentices, boys and girls, and
+they all came up the street and looked at the bird and saw how
+beautiful he was, and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how
+like real gold his neck was, and how the eyes in his head shone like
+stars. “Bird,” said the shoemaker, “now sing me that song again.”
+“Nay,” said the bird, “I do not sing twice for nothing; thou must give
+me something.” “Wife,” said the man, “go to the garret, upon the top
+shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, bring them down.” Then the wife
+went and brought the shoes. “There, bird,” said the man, “now sing me
+that piece again.” Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left
+claw, and flew back on the roof, and sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,
+My father he ate me,
+My sister, little Marlinchen,
+Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+And when he had sung the whole he flew away. In his right claw he had
+the chain and the shoes in his left, and he flew far away to a mill,
+and the mill went, “klipp klapp, klipp klapp, klipp klapp,” and in the
+mill sat twenty miller’s men hewing a stone, and cutting, hick hack,
+hick hack, hick hack, and the mill went klipp klapp, klipp klapp, klipp
+klapp. Then the bird went and sat on a lime-tree which stood in front
+of the mill, and sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,”
+
+
+Then one of them stopped working,
+
+“My father he ate me.”
+
+
+Then two more stopped working and listened to that,
+
+“My sister, little Marlinchen,”
+
+
+Then four more stopped,
+
+“Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,”
+
+
+Now eight only were hewing,
+
+“Laid them beneath”
+
+
+Now only five,
+
+“The juniper-tree,”
+
+
+And now only one,
+
+“Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+Then the last stopped also, and heard the last words. “Bird,” said he,
+“how beautifully thou singest! Let me, too, hear that. Sing that once
+more for me.”
+
+“Nay,” said the bird, “I will not sing twice for nothing. Give me the
+millstone, and then I will sing it again.”
+
+“Yes,” said he, “if it belonged to me only, thou shouldst have it.”
+
+“Yes,” said the others, “if he sings again he shall have it.” Then the
+bird came down, and the twenty millers all set to work with a beam and
+raised the stone up. And the bird stuck his neck through the hole, and
+put the stone on as if it were a collar, and flew on to the tree again,
+and sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,
+My father he ate me,
+My sister, little Marlinchen,
+Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+And when he had done singing, he spread his wings, and in his right
+claw he had the chain, and in his left the shoes, and round his neck
+the millstone, and he flew far away to his father’s house.
+
+In the room sat the father, the mother, and Marlinchen at dinner, and
+the father said, “How light-hearted I feel, how happy I am!” “Nay,”
+said the mother, “I feel so uneasy, just as if a heavy storm were
+coming.” Marlinchen, however, sat weeping and weeping, and then came
+the bird flying, and as it seated itself on the roof the father said,
+“Ah, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is shining so beautifully
+outside, I feel just as if I were about to see some old friend again.”
+“Nay,” said the woman, “I feel so anxious, my teeth chatter, and I seem
+to have fire in my veins.” And she tore her stays open, but Marlinchen
+sat in a corner crying, and held her plate before her eyes and cried
+till it was quite wet. Then the bird sat on the juniper tree, and sang,
+
+“My mother she killed me,”
+
+
+Then the mother stopped her ears, and shut her eyes, and would not see
+or hear, but there was a roaring in her ears like the most violent
+storm, and her eyes burnt and flashed like lightning,
+
+“My father he ate me,”
+
+
+“Ah, mother,” says the man, “that is a beautiful bird! He sings so
+splendidly, and the sun shines so warm, and there is a smell just like
+cinnamon.”
+
+“My sister, little Marlinchen,”
+
+
+Then Marlinchen laid her head on her knees and wept without ceasing,
+but the man said, “I am going out, I must see the bird quite close.”
+“Oh, don’t go,” said the woman, “I feel as if the whole house were
+shaking and on fire.” But the man went out and looked at the bird:
+
+“Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
+Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+On this the bird let the golden chain fall, and it fell exactly round
+the man’s neck, and so exactly round it that it fitted beautifully.
+Then he went in and said, “Just look what a fine bird that is, and what
+a handsome gold chain he has given me, and how pretty he is!” But the
+woman was terrified, and fell down on the floor in the room, and her
+cap fell off her head. Then sang the bird once more,
+
+“My mother she killed me.”
+
+
+“Would that I were a thousand feet beneath the earth so as not to hear
+that!”
+
+“My father he ate me,”
+
+
+Then the woman fell down again as if dead.
+
+“My sister, little Marlinchen,”
+
+
+“Ah,” said Marlinchen, “I too will go out and see if the bird will give
+me anything,” and she went out.
+
+“Gathered together all my bones,
+Tied them in a silken handkerchief,”
+
+
+Then he threw down the shoes to her.
+
+“Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
+Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!”
+
+
+Then she was light-hearted and joyous, and she put on the new red
+shoes, and danced and leaped into the house. “Ah,” said she, “I was so
+sad when I went out and now I am so light-hearted; that is a splendid
+bird, he has given me a pair of red shoes!” “Well,” said the woman, and
+sprang to her feet and her hair stood up like flames of fire, “I feel
+as if the world were coming to an end! I, too, will go out and see if
+my heart feels lighter.” And as she went out at the door, crash! the
+bird threw down the millstone on her head, and she was entirely crushed
+by it. The father and Marlinchen heard what had happened and went out,
+and smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and when that
+was over, there stood the little brother, and he took his father and
+Marlinchen by the hand, and all three were right glad, and they went
+into the house to dinner, and ate.

content/library/grimm/048_old_sultan.txt

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+Old Sultan
+
+A farmer once had a faithful dog called Sultan, who had grown old, and
+lost all his teeth, so that he could no longer hold anything fast. One
+day the farmer was standing with his wife before the house-door, and
+said, “To-morrow I intend to shoot Old Sultan, he is no longer of any
+use.”
+
+His wife, who felt pity for the faithful beast, answered, “He has
+served us so long, and been so faithful, that we might well give him
+his keep.”
+
+“Eh! what?” said the man. “You are not very sharp. He has not a tooth
+left in his mouth, and not a thief is afraid of him; now he may be off.
+If he has served us, he has had good feeding for it.”
+
+The poor dog, who was lying stretched out in the sun not far off, had
+heard everything, and was sorry that the morrow was to be his last day.
+He had a good friend, the wolf, and he crept out in the evening into
+the forest to him, and complained of the fate that awaited him. “Hark
+ye, gossip,” said the wolf, “be of good cheer, I will help you out of
+your trouble. I have thought of something. To-morrow, early in the
+morning, your master is going with his wife to make hay, and they will
+take their little child with them, for no one will be left behind in
+the house. They are wont, during work-time, to lay the child under the
+hedge in the shade; you lay yourself there too, just as if you wished
+to guard it. Then I will come out of the wood, and carry off the child.
+You must rush swiftly after me, as if you would seize it again from me.
+I will let it fall, and you will take it back to its parents, who will
+think that you have saved it, and will be far too grateful to do you
+any harm; on the contrary, you will be in high favor, and they will
+never let you want for anything again.”
+
+The plan pleased the dog, and it was carried out just as it was
+arranged. The father screamed when he saw the Wolf running across the
+field with his child, but when Old Sultan brought it back, then he was
+full of joy, and stroked him and said, “Not a hair of yours shall be
+hurt, you shall eat my bread free as long as you live.” And to his wife
+he said, “Go home at once and make Old Sultan some bread-sop that he
+will not have to bite, and bring the pillow out of my bed, I will give
+him that to lie upon.”
+
+Henceforth Old Sultan was as well off as he could wish to be.
+
+Soon afterwards the wolf visited him, and was pleased that everything
+had succeeded so well. “But, gossip,” said he, “you will just wink an
+eye if when I have a chance, I carry off one of your master’s fat
+sheep.” “Do not reckon upon that,” answered the dog; “I will remain
+true to my master; I cannot agree to that.” The wolf, who thought that
+this could not be spoken in earnest, came creeping about in the night
+and was going to take away the sheep. But the farmer, to whom the
+faithful Sultan had told the wolf’s plan, caught him and dressed his
+hide soundly with the flail. The wolf had to pack off, but he cried out
+to the dog, “Wait a bit, you scoundrel, you shall pay for this.”
+
+The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge the dog to come
+out into the forest so that they might settle the affair. Old Sultan
+could find no one to stand by him but a cat with only three legs, and
+as they went out together the poor cat limped along, and at the same
+time stretched out her tail into the air with pain.
+
+The wolf and his friend were already on the spot appointed, but when
+they saw their enemy coming they thought that he was bringing a sabre
+with him, for they mistook the outstretched tail of the cat for one.
+And when the poor beast hopped on its three legs, they could only think
+every time that it was picking up a stone to throw at them. So they
+were both afraid; the wild boar crept into the under-wood and the wolf
+jumped up a tree.
+
+The dog and the cat, when they came up, wondered that there was no one
+to be seen. The wild boar, however, had not been able to hide himself
+altogether; and one of his ears was still to be seen. Whilst the cat
+was looking carefully about, the boar moved his ear; the cat, who
+thought it was a mouse moving there, jumped upon it and bit it hard.
+The boar made a fearful noise and ran away, crying out, “The guilty one
+is up in the tree.” The dog and cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was
+ashamed of having shown himself so timid, and made friends with the
+dog.

content/library/grimm/049_the_six_swans.txt

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+The Six Swans
+
+Once upon a time, a certain King was hunting in a great forest, and he
+chased a wild beast so eagerly that none of his attendants could follow
+him. When evening drew near he stopped and looked around him, and then
+he saw that he had lost his way. He sought a way out, but could find
+none. Then he perceived an aged woman with a head which nodded
+perpetually, who came towards him, but she was a witch. “Good woman,”
+said he to her, “Can you not show me the way through the forest?” “Oh,
+yes, Lord King,” she answered, “that I certainly can, but on one
+condition, and if you do not fulfil that, you will never get out of the
+forest, and will die of hunger in it.”
+
+“What kind of condition is it?” asked the King.
+
+“I have a daughter,” said the old woman, “who is as beautiful as any
+one in the world, and well deserves to be your consort, and if you will
+make her your Queen, I will show you the way out of the forest.” In the
+anguish of his heart the King consented, and the old woman led him to
+her little hut, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She
+received the King as if she had been expecting him, and he saw that she
+was very beautiful, but still she did not please him, and he could not
+look at her without secret horror. After he had taken the maiden up on
+his horse, the old woman showed him the way, and the King reached his
+royal palace again, where the wedding was celebrated.
+
+The King had already been married once, and had by his first wife,
+seven children, six boys and a girl, whom he loved better than anything
+else in the world. As he now feared that the step-mother might not
+treat them well, and even do them some injury, he took them to a lonely
+castle which stood in the midst of a forest. It lay so concealed, and
+the way was so difficult to find that he himself would not have found
+it, if a wise woman had not given him a ball of yarn with wonderful
+properties. When he threw it down before him, it unrolled itself and
+showed him his path. The King, however, went so frequently away to his
+dear children that the Queen observed his absence; she was curious and
+wanted to know what he did when he was quite alone in the forest. She
+gave a great deal of money to his servants, and they betrayed the
+secret to her, and told her likewise of the ball which alone could
+point out the way. And now she knew no rest until she had learnt where
+the King kept the ball of yarn, and then she made little shirts of
+white silk, and as she had learnt the art of witchcraft from her
+mother, she sewed a charm inside them. And once when the King had
+ridden forth to hunt, she took the little shirts and went into the
+forest, and the ball showed her the way. The children, who saw from a
+distance that some one was approaching, thought that their dear father
+was coming to them, and full of joy, ran to meet him. Then she threw
+one of the little shirts over each of them, and no sooner had the
+shirts touched their bodies than they were changed into swans, and flew
+away over the forest. The Queen went home quite delighted, and thought
+she had got rid of her step-children, but the girl had not run out with
+her brothers, and the Queen knew nothing about her. Next day the King
+went to visit his children, but he found no one but the little girl.
+“Where are thy brothers?” asked the King. “Alas, dear father,” she
+answered, “they have gone away and left me alone!” and she told him
+that she had seen from her little window how her brothers had flown
+away over the forest in the shape of swans, and she showed him the
+feathers, which they had let fall in the courtyard, and which she had
+picked up. The King mourned, but he did not think that the Queen had
+done this wicked deed, and as he feared that the girl would also be
+stolen away from him, he wanted to take her away with him. But she was
+afraid of her step-mother, and entreated the King to let her stay just
+this one night more in the forest castle.
+
+The poor girl thought, “I can no longer stay here. I will go and seek
+my brothers.” And when night came, she ran away, and went straight into
+the forest. She walked the whole night long, and next day also without
+stopping, until she could go no farther for weariness. Then she saw a
+forest-hut, and went into it, and found a room with six little beds,
+but she did not venture to get into one of them, but crept under one,
+and lay down on the hard ground, intending to pass the night there.
+Just before sunset, however, she heard a rustling, and saw six swans
+come flying in at the window. They alighted on the ground and blew at
+each other, and blew all the feathers off, and their swan’s skins
+stripped off like a shirt. Then the maiden looked at them and
+recognized her brothers, was glad and crept forth from beneath the bed.
+The brothers were not less delighted to see their little sister, but
+their joy was of short duration. “Here canst thou not abide,” they said
+to her. “This is a shelter for robbers, if they come home and find
+thee, they will kill thee.” “But can you not protect me?” asked the
+little sister. “No,” they replied, “only for one quarter of an hour
+each evening can we lay aside our swan’s skins and have during that
+time our human form; after that, we are once more turned into swans.”
+The little sister wept and said, “Can you not be set free?” “Alas, no,”
+they answered, “the conditions are too hard! For six years thou mayst
+neither speak nor laugh, and in that time thou must sew together six
+little shirts of starwort for us. And if one single word falls from thy
+lips, all thy work will be lost.” And when the brothers had said this,
+the quarter of an hour was over, and they flew out of the window again
+as swans.
+
+The maiden, however, firmly resolved to deliver her brothers, even if
+it should cost her her life. She left the hut, went into the midst of
+the forest, seated herself on a tree, and there passed the night. Next
+morning she went out and gathered starwort and began to sew. She could
+not speak to any one, and she had no inclination to laugh; she sat
+there and looked at nothing but her work. When she had already spent a
+long time there it came to pass that the King of the country was
+hunting in the forest, and his huntsmen came to the tree on which the
+maiden was sitting. They called to her and said, “Who art thou?” But
+she made no answer. “Come down to us,” said they. “We will not do thee
+any harm.” She only shook her head. As they pressed her further with
+questions she threw her golden necklace down to them, and thought to
+content them thus. They, however, did not cease, and then she threw her
+girdle down to them, and as this also was to no purpose, her garters,
+and by degrees everything that she had on that she could do without
+until she had nothing left but her shift. The huntsmen, however, did
+not let themselves be turned aside by that, but climbed the tree and
+fetched the maiden down and led her before the King. The King asked,
+“Who art thou? What art thou doing on the tree?” But she did not
+answer. He put the question in every language that he knew, but she
+remained as mute as a fish. As she was so beautiful, the King’s heart
+was touched, and he was smitten with a great love for her. He put his
+mantle on her, took her before him on his horse, and carried her to his
+castle. Then he caused her to be dressed in rich garments, and she
+shone in her beauty like bright daylight, but no word could be drawn
+from her. He placed her by his side at table, and her modest bearing
+and courtesy pleased him so much that he said, “She is the one whom I
+wish to marry, and no other woman in the world.” And after some days he
+united himself to her.
+
+The King, however, had a wicked mother who was dissatisfied with this
+marriage and spoke ill of the young Queen. “Who knows,” said she, “from
+whence the creature who can’t speak, comes? She is not worthy of a
+king!” After a year had passed, when the Queen brought her first child
+into the world, the old woman took it away from her, and smeared her
+mouth with blood as she slept. Then she went to the King and accused
+the Queen of being a man-eater. The King would not believe it, and
+would not suffer any one to do her any injury. She, however, sat
+continually sewing at the shirts, and cared for nothing else. The next
+time, when she again bore a beautiful boy, the false step-mother used
+the same treachery, but the King could not bring himself to give credit
+to her words. He said, “She is too pious and good to do anything of
+that kind; if she were not dumb, and could defend herself, her
+innocence would come to light.” But when the old woman stole away the
+newly-born child for the third time, and accused the Queen, who did not
+utter one word of defence, the King could do no otherwise than deliver
+her over to justice, and she was sentenced to suffer death by fire.
+
+When the day came for the sentence to be executed, it was the last day
+of the six years during which she was not to speak or laugh, and she
+had delivered her dear brothers from the power of the enchantment. The
+six shirts were ready, only the left sleeve of the sixth was wanting.
+When, therefore, she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her
+arm, and when she stood on high and the fire was just going to be
+lighted, she looked around and six swans came flying through the air
+towards her. Then she saw that her deliverance was near, and her heart
+leapt with joy. The swans swept towards her and sank down so that she
+could throw the shirts over them, and as they were touched by them,
+their swan’s skins fell off, and her brothers stood in their own bodily
+form before her, and were vigorous and handsome. The youngest only
+lacked his left arm, and had in the place of it a swan’s wing on his
+shoulder. They embraced and kissed each other, and the Queen went to
+the King, who was greatly moved, and she began to speak and said,
+“Dearest husband, now I may speak and declare to thee that I am
+innocent, and falsely accused.” And she told him of the treachery of
+the old woman who had taken away her three children and hidden them.
+Then to the great joy of the King they were brought thither, and as a
+punishment, the wicked step-mother was bound to the stake, and burnt to
+ashes. But the King and the Queen with their six brothers lived many
+years in happiness and peace.

content/library/grimm/050_briar_rose.txt

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+Briar-Rose
+
+A long time ago there were a King and Queen who said every day, “Ah, if
+only we had a child!” but they never had one. But it happened that once
+when the Queen was bathing, a frog crept out of the water on to the
+land, and said to her, “Your wish shall be fulfilled; before a year has
+gone by, you shall have a daughter.”
+
+What the frog had said came true, and the Queen had a little girl who
+was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and
+ordered a great feast. He invited not only his kindred, friends and
+acquaintance, but also the Wise Women, in order that they might be kind
+and well-disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them in his
+kingdom, but, as he had only twelve golden plates for them to eat out
+of, one of them had to be left at home.
+
+The feast was held with all manner of splendour and when it came to an
+end the Wise Women bestowed their magic gifts upon the baby: one gave
+virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on with everything in
+the world that one can wish for.
+
+When eleven of them had made their promises, suddenly the thirteenth
+came in. She wished to avenge herself for not having been invited, and
+without greeting, or even looking at any one, she cried with a loud
+voice, “The King’s daughter shall in her fifteenth year prick herself
+with a spindle, and fall down dead.” And, without saying a word more,
+she turned round and left the room.
+
+They were all shocked; but the twelfth, whose good wish still remained
+unspoken, came forward, and as she could not undo the evil sentence,
+but only soften it, she said, “It shall not be death, but a deep sleep
+of a hundred years, into which the princess shall fall.”
+
+The King, who would fain keep his dear child from the misfortune, gave
+orders that every spindle in the whole kingdom should be burnt.
+Meanwhile the gifts of the Wise Women were plenteously fulfilled on the
+young girl, for she was so beautiful, modest, good-natured, and wise,
+that everyone who saw her was bound to love her.
+
+It happened that on the very day when she was fifteen years old, the
+King and Queen were not at home, and the maiden was left in the palace
+quite alone. So she went round into all sorts of places, looked into
+rooms and bed-chambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old
+tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a
+little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the
+door sprang open, and there in a little room sat an old woman with a
+spindle, busily spinning her flax.
+
+“Good day, old dame,” said the King’s daughter; “what are you doing
+there?” “I am spinning,” said the old woman, and nodded her head. “What
+sort of thing is that, that rattles round so merrily?” said the girl,
+and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she
+touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she
+pricked her finger with it.
+
+And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the
+bed that stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep extended
+over the whole palace; the King and Queen who had just come home, and
+had entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the whole of the
+court with them. The horses, too, went to sleep in the stable, the dogs
+in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall; even the
+fire that was flaming on the hearth became quiet and slept, the roast
+meat left off frizzling, and the cook, who was just going to pull the
+hair of the scullery boy, because he had forgotten something, let him
+go, and went to sleep. And the wind fell, and on the trees before the
+castle not a leaf moved again.
+
+But round about the castle there began to grow a hedge of thorns, which
+every year became higher, and at last grew close up round the castle
+and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even
+the flag upon the roof. But the story of the beautiful sleeping
+“Briar-rose,” for so the princess was named, went about the country, so
+that from time to time kings’ sons came and tried to get through the
+thorny hedge into the castle.
+
+But they found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if
+they had hands, and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose
+again, and died a miserable death.
+
+After long, long years a King’s son came again to that country, and
+heard an old man talking about the thorn-hedge, and that a castle was
+said to stand behind it in which a wonderfully beautiful princess,
+named Briar-rose, had been asleep for a hundred years; and that the
+King and Queen and the whole court were asleep likewise. He had heard,
+too, from his grandfather, that many kings’ sons had already come, and
+had tried to get through the thorny hedge, but they had remained
+sticking fast in it, and had died a pitiful death. Then the youth said,
+“I am not afraid, I will go and see the beautiful Briar-rose.” The good
+old man might dissuade him as he would, he did not listen to his words.
+
+But by this time the hundred years had just passed, and the day had
+come when Briar-rose was to awake again. When the King’s son came near
+to the thorn-hedge, it was nothing but large and beautiful flowers,
+which parted from each other of their own accord, and let him pass
+unhurt, then they closed again behind him like a hedge. In the
+castle-yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds lying asleep; on
+the roof sat the pigeons with their heads under their wings. And when
+he entered the house, the flies were asleep upon the wall, the cook in
+the kitchen was still holding out his hand to seize the boy, and the
+maid was sitting by the black hen which she was going to pluck.
+
+He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw the whole of the court
+lying asleep, and up by the throne lay the King and Queen.
+
+Then he went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a breath could
+be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into
+the little room where Briar-rose was sleeping. There she lay, so
+beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away; and he stooped down and
+gave her a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her, Briar-rose opened her
+eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly.
+
+Then they went down together, and the King awoke, and the Queen, and
+the whole court, and looked at each other in great astonishment. And
+the horses in the court-yard stood up and shook themselves; the hounds
+jumped up and wagged their tails; the pigeons upon the roof pulled out
+their heads from under their wings, looked round, and flew into the
+open country; the flies on the wall crept again; the fire in the
+kitchen burned up and flickered and cooked the meat; the joint began to
+turn and frizzle again, and the cook gave the boy such a box on the ear
+that he screamed, and the maid plucked the fowl ready for the spit.
+
+And then the marriage of the King’s son with Briar-rose was celebrated
+with all splendour, and they lived contented to the end of their days.

content/library/grimm/051_fundevogel_bird_foundling.txt

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+Fundevogel (Bird-foundling)
+
+There was once a forester who went into the forest to hunt, and as he
+entered it he heard a sound of screaming as if a little child were
+there. He followed the sound, and at last came to a high tree, and at
+the top of this a little child was sitting, for the mother had fallen
+asleep under the tree with the child, and a bird of prey had seen it in
+her arms, had flown down, snatched it away, and set it on the high
+tree.
+
+The forester climbed up, brought the child down, and thought to
+himself, “Thou wilt take him home with thee, and bring him up with thy
+Lina.” He took it home, therefore, and the two children grew up
+together. The one, however, which he had found on a tree was called
+Fundevogel, because a bird had carried it away. Fundevogel and Lina
+loved each other so dearly that when they did not see each other they
+were sad.
+
+The forester, however, had an old cook, who one evening took two pails
+and began to fetch water, and did not go once only, but many times, out
+to the spring. Lina saw this and said, “Hark you, old Sanna, why are
+you fetching so much water?” “If thou wilt never repeat it to anyone, I
+will tell thee why.” So Lina said, no, she would never repeat it to
+anyone, and then the cook said, “Early to-morrow morning, when the
+forester is out hunting, I will heat the water, and when it is boiling
+in the kettle, I will throw in Fundevogel, and will boil him in it.”
+
+Betimes next morning the forester got up and went out hunting, and when
+he was gone the children were still in bed. Then Lina said to
+Fundevogel, “If thou wilt never leave me, I too will never leave thee.”
+Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever will I leave thee.” Then said
+Lina, “Then I will tell thee. Last night, old Sanna carried so many
+buckets of water into the house that I asked her why she was doing
+that, and she said that if I would promise not to tell any one she
+would tell me, and I said I would be sure not to tell any one, and she
+said that early to-morrow morning when father was out hunting, she
+would set the kettle full of water, throw thee into it and boil thee;
+but we will get up quickly, dress ourselves, and go away together.”
+
+The two children therefore got up, dressed themselves quickly, and went
+away. When the water in the kettle was boiling, the cook went into the
+bed-room to fetch Fundevogel and throw him into it. But when she came
+in, and went to the beds, both the children were gone. Then she was
+terribly alarmed, and she said to herself, “What shall I say now when
+the forester comes home and sees that the children are gone? They must
+be followed instantly to get them back again.”
+
+Then the cook sent three servants after them, who were to run and
+overtake the children. The children, however, were sitting outside the
+forest, and when they saw from afar the three servants running, Lina
+said to Fundevogel, “Never leave me, and I will never leave thee.”
+Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever.” Then said Lina, “Do thou
+become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it.” When the three servants
+came to the forest, nothing was there but a rose-tree and one rose on
+it, but the children were nowhere. Then said they, “There is nothing to
+be done here,” and they went home and told the cook that they had seen
+nothing in the forest but a little rose-bush with one rose on it. Then
+the old cook scolded and said, “You simpletons, you should have cut the
+rose-bush in two, and have broken off the rose and brought it home with
+you; go, and do it once.” They had therefore to go out and look for the
+second time. The children, however, saw them coming from a distance.
+Then Lina said, “Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will never leave
+thee.” Fundevogel said, “Neither now, nor ever.” Said Lina, “Then do
+thou become a church, and I’ll be the chandelier in it.” So when the
+three servants came, nothing was there but a church, with a chandelier
+in it. They said therefore to each other, “What can we do here, let us
+go home.” When they got home, the cook asked if they had not found
+them; so they said no, they had found nothing but a church, and that
+there was a chandelier in it. And the cook scolded them and said, “You
+fools! why did you not pull the church to pieces, and bring the
+chandelier home with you?” And now the old cook herself got on her
+legs, and went with the three servants in pursuit of the children. The
+children, however, saw from afar that the three servants were coming,
+and the cook waddling after them. Then said Lina, “Fundevogel, never
+leave me, and I will never leave thee.” Then said Fundevogel, “Neither
+now, nor ever.” Said Lina, “Be a fishpond, and I will be the duck upon
+it.” The cook, however, came up to them, and when she saw the pond she
+lay down by it, and was about to drink it up. But the duck swam quickly
+to her, seized her head in its beak and drew her into the water, and
+there the old witch had to drown. Then the children went home together,
+and were heartily delighted, and if they are not dead, they are living
+still.

content/library/grimm/052_king_thrushbeard.txt

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+King Thrushbeard
+
+A King had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure, but so
+proud and haughty withal that no suitor was good enough for her. She
+sent away one after the other, and ridiculed them as well.
+
+Once the King made a great feast and invited thereto, from far and
+near, all the young men likely to marry. They were all marshalled in a
+row according to their rank and standing; first came the kings, then
+the grand-dukes, then the princes, the earls, the barons, and the
+gentry. Then the King’s daughter was led through the ranks, but to
+every one she had some objection to make; one was too fat, “The
+wine-cask,” she said. Another was too tall, “Long and thin has little
+in.” The third was too short, “Short and thick is never quick.” The
+fourth was too pale, “As pale as death.” The fifth too red, “A
+fighting-cock.” The sixth was not straight enough, “A green log dried
+behind the stove.”
+
+So she had something to say against every one, but she made herself
+especially merry over a good king who stood quite high up in the row,
+and whose chin had grown a little crooked. “Well,” she cried and
+laughed, “he has a chin like a thrush’s beak!” and from that time he
+got the name of King Thrushbeard.
+
+But the old King, when he saw that his daugher did nothing but mock the
+people, and despised all the suitors who were gathered there, was very
+angry, and swore that she should have for her husband the very first
+beggar that came to his doors.
+
+A few days afterwards a fiddler came and sang beneath the windows,
+trying to earn a small alms. When the King heard him he said, “Let him
+come up.” So the fiddler came in, in his dirty, ragged clothes, and
+sang before the King and his daughter, and when he had ended he asked
+for a trifling gift. The King said, “Your song has pleased me so well
+that I will give you my daughter there, to wife.”
+
+The King’s daughter shuddered, but the King said, “I have taken an oath
+to give you to the very first beggar-man, and I will keep it.” All she
+could say was in vain; the priest was brought, and she had to let
+herself be wedded to the fiddler on the spot. When that was done the
+King said, “Now it is not proper for you, a beggar-woman, to stay any
+longer in my palace, you may just go away with your husband.”
+
+The beggar-man led her out by the hand, and she was obliged to walk
+away on foot with him. When they came to a large forest she asked, “To
+whom does that beautiful forest belong?” “It belongs to King
+Thrushbeard; if you had taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah,
+unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken King Thrushbeard!”
+
+Afterwards they came to a meadow, and she asked again, “To whom does
+this beautiful green meadow belong?” “It belongs to King Thrushbeard;
+if you had taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah, unhappy girl that
+I am, if I had but taken King Thrushbeard!”
+
+Then they came to a large town, and she asked again, “To whom does this
+fine large town belong?” “It belongs to King Thrushbeard; if you had
+taken him, it would have been yours.” “Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I
+had but taken King Thrushbeard!”
+
+“It does not please me,” said the fiddler, “to hear you always wishing
+for another husband; am I not good enough for you?” At last they came
+to a very little hut, and she said, “Oh goodness! what a small house;
+to whom does this miserable, mean hovel belong?” The fiddler answered,
+“That is my house and yours, where we shall live together.”
+
+She had to stoop in order to go in at the low door. “Where are the
+servants?” said the King’s daughter. “What servants?” answered the
+beggar-man; “you must yourself do what you wish to have done. Just make
+a fire at once, and set on water to cook my supper, I am quite tired.”
+But the King’s daughter knew nothing about lighting fires or cooking,
+and the beggar-man had to lend a hand himself to get anything fairly
+done. When they had finished their scanty meal they went to bed; but he
+forced her to get up quite early in the morning in order to look after
+the house.
+
+For a few days they lived in this way as well as might be, and came to
+the end of all their provisions. Then the man said, “Wife, we cannot go
+on any longer eating and drinking here and earning nothing. You weave
+baskets.” He went out, cut some willows, and brought them home. Then
+she began to weave, but the tough willows wounded her delicate hands.
+
+“I see that this will not do,” said the man; “you had better spin,
+perhaps you can do that better.” She sat down and tried to spin, but
+the hard thread soon cut her soft fingers so that the blood ran down.
+“See,” said the man, “you are fit for no sort of work; I have made a
+bad bargain with you. Now I will try to make a business with pots and
+earthenware; you must sit in the market-place and sell the ware.”
+“Alas,” thought she, “if any of the people from my father’s kingdom
+come to the market and see me sitting there, selling, how they will
+mock me?” But it was of no use, she had to yield unless she chose to
+die of hunger.
+
+For the first time she succeeded well, for the people were glad to buy
+the woman’s wares because she was good-looking, and they paid her what
+she asked; many even gave her the money and left the pots with her as
+well. So they lived on what she had earned as long as it lasted, then
+the husband bought a lot of new crockery. With this she sat down at the
+corner of the market-place, and set it out round about her ready for
+sale. But suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping along, and he
+rode right amongst the pots so that they were all broken into a
+thousand bits. She began to weep, and did now know what to do for fear.
+“Alas! what will happen to me?” cried she; “what will my husband say to
+this?”
+
+She ran home and told him of the misfortune. “Who would seat herself at
+a corner of the market-place with crockery?” said the man; “leave off
+crying, I see very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have
+been to our King’s palace and have asked whether they cannot find a
+place for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to take you; in
+that way you will get your food for nothing.”
+
+The King’s daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had to be at the cook’s
+beck and call, and do the dirtiest work. In both her pockets she
+fastened a little jar, in which she took home her share of the
+leavings, and upon this they lived.
+
+It happened that the wedding of the King’s eldest son was to be
+celebrated, so the poor woman went up and placed herself by the door of
+the hall to look on. When all the candles were lit, and people, each
+more beautiful than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and
+splendour, she thought of her lot with a sad heart, and cursed the
+pride and haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to so great
+poverty.
+
+The smell of the delicious dishes which were being taken in and out
+reached her, and now and then the servants threw her a few morsels of
+them: these she put in her jars to take home.
+
+All at once the King’s son entered, clothed in velvet and silk, with
+gold chains about his neck. And when he saw the beautiful woman
+standing by the door he seized her by the hand, and would have danced
+with her; but she refused and shrank with fear, for she saw that it was
+King Thrushbeard, her suitor whom she had driven away with scorn. Her
+struggles were of no avail, he drew her into the hall; but the string
+by which her pockets were hung broke, the pots fell down, the soup ran
+out, and the scraps were scattered all about. And when the people saw
+it, there arose general laughter and derision, and she was so ashamed
+that she would rather have been a thousand fathoms below the ground.
+She sprang to the door and would have run away, but on the stairs a man
+caught her and brought her back; and when she looked at him it was King
+Thrushbeard again. He said to her kindly, “Do not be afraid, I and the
+fiddler who has been living with you in that wretched hovel are one.
+For love of you I disguised myself so; and I also was the hussar who
+rode through your crockery. This was all done to humble your proud
+spirit, and to punish you for the insolence with which you mocked me.”
+
+Then she wept bitterly and said, “I have done great wrong, and am not
+worthy to be your wife.” But he said, “Be comforted, the evil days are
+past; now we will celebrate our wedding.” Then the maids-in-waiting
+came and put on her the most splendid clothing, and her father and his
+whole court came and wished her happiness in her marriage with King
+Thrushbeard, and the joy now began in earnest. I wish you and I had
+been there too.

content/library/grimm/053_little_snow_white.txt

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+Little Snow-white
+
+Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were
+falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a window sewing, and
+the frame of the window was made of black ebony. And whilst she was
+sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her
+finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow.
+And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to
+herself, “Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood,
+and as black as the wood of the window-frame.”
+
+Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as snow,
+and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony; and she was
+therefore called Little Snow-white. And when the child was born, the
+Queen died.
+
+After a year had passed the King took to himself another wife. She was
+a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that
+anyone else should surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful
+looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself
+in it, and said—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+the looking-glass answered—
+
+“Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!”
+
+
+Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass spoke the
+truth.
+
+But Snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful; and
+when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more
+beautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her
+looking-glass—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+it answered—
+
+“Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen.”
+But more beautiful still is Snow-white, as I ween.”
+
+
+Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From
+that hour, whenever she looked at Snow-white, her heart heaved in her
+breast, she hated the girl so much.
+
+And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so
+that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said,
+“Take the child away into the forest; I will no longer have her in my
+sight. Kill her, and bring me back her heart as a token.” The huntsman
+obeyed, and took her away; but when he had drawn his knife, and was
+about to pierce Snow-white’s innocent heart, she began to weep, and
+said, “Ah dear huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the
+wild forest, and never come home again.”
+
+And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and said, “Run
+away, then, you poor child.” “The wild beasts will soon have devoured
+you,” thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from
+his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her. And as a
+young boar just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its
+heart and took it to the Queen as proof that the child was dead. The
+cook had to salt this, and the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had
+eaten the heart of Snow-white.
+
+But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so
+terrified that she looked at every leaf of every tree, and did not know
+what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp stones and
+through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm.
+
+She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost evening; then
+she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself. Everything
+in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told.
+There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates,
+and on each plate a little spoon; moreover, there were seven little
+knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven
+little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes.
+
+Little Snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some
+vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of
+each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she
+was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none
+of them suited her; one was too long, another too short, but at last
+she found that the seventh one was right, and so she remained in it,
+said a prayer and went to sleep.
+
+When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back; they were
+seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit
+their seven candles, and as it was now light within the cottage they
+saw that someone had been there, for everything was not in the same
+order in which they had left it.
+
+The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”
+
+The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?”
+
+The third, “Who has been taking some of my bread?”
+
+The fourth, “Who has been eating my vegetables?”
+
+The fifth, “Who has been using my fork?”
+
+The sixth, “Who has been cutting with my knife?”
+
+The seventh, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?”
+
+Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole on his
+bed, and he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?” The others came
+up and each called out, “Somebody has been lying in my bed too.” But
+the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-white, who was
+lying asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up,
+and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little
+candles and let the light fall on little Snow-white. “Oh, heavens! oh,
+heavens!” cried they, “what a lovely child!” and they were so glad that
+they did not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the
+seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so got
+through the night.
+
+When it was morning little Snow-white awoke, and was frightened when
+she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her
+name was. “My name is Snow-white,” she answered. “How have you come to
+our house?” said the dwarfs. Then she told them that her step-mother
+had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman had spared her
+life, and that she had run for the whole day, until at last she had
+found their dwelling. The dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our
+house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit, and if you will keep
+everything neat and clean, you can stay with us and you shall want for
+nothing.” “Yes,” said Snow-white, “with all my heart,” and she stayed
+with them. She kept the house in order for them; in the mornings they
+went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the evenings
+they came back, and then their supper had to be ready. The girl was
+alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her and said, “Beware of
+your step-mother, she will soon know that you are here; be sure to let
+no one come in.”
+
+But the Queen, believing that she had eaten Snow-white’s heart, could
+not but think that she was again the first and most beautiful of all;
+and she went to her looking-glass and said—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+and the glass answered—
+
+“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
+But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
+Snow-white is still alive and well,
+And none is so fair as she.”
+
+
+Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass never spoke
+falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed her, and that
+little Snow-white was still alive.
+
+And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so
+long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her have no
+rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she painted
+her face, and dressed herself like an old peddler-woman, and no one
+could have known her. In this disguise she went over the seven
+mountains to the seven dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried,
+“Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap.” Little Snow-white
+looked out of the window and called out, “Good-day my good woman, what
+have you to sell?” “Good things, pretty things,” she answered;
+“stay-laces of all colours,” and she pulled out one which was woven of
+bright-coloured silk. “I may let the worthy old woman in,” thought
+Snow-white, and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces.
+“Child,” said the old woman, “what a fright you look; come, I will lace
+you properly for once.” Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before
+her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman
+laced so quickly and so tightly that Snow-white lost her breath and
+fell down as if dead. “Now I am the most beautiful,” said the Queen to
+herself, and ran away.
+
+Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home, but
+how shocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-white lying
+on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be
+dead. They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too
+tightly, they cut the laces; then she began to breathe a little, and
+after a while came to life again. When the dwarfs heard what had
+happened they said, “The old peddler-woman was no one else than the
+wicked Queen; take care and let no one come in when we are not with
+you.”
+
+But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front of the
+glass and asked—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+and it answered as before—
+
+“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
+But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
+Snow-white is still alive and well,
+And none is so fair as she.”
+
+
+When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for
+she saw plainly that little Snow-white was again alive. “But now,” she
+said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by
+the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous
+comb. Then she disguised herself and took the shape of another old
+woman. So she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs,
+knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!”
+Little Snow-white looked out and said, “Go away; I cannot let any one
+come in.” “I suppose you can look,” said the old woman, and pulled the
+poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well that she
+let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a
+bargain the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.”
+Poor little Snow-white had no suspicion, and let the old woman do as
+she pleased, but hardly had she put the comb in her hair than the
+poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down senseless. “You
+paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now,” and
+she went away.
+
+But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs came home.
+When they saw Snow-white lying as if dead upon the ground they at once
+suspected the step-mother, and they looked and found the poisoned comb.
+Scarcely had they taken it out when Snow-white came to herself, and
+told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon
+her guard and to open the door to no one.
+
+The Queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+then it answered as before—
+
+“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
+But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
+Snow-white is still alive and well,
+And none is so fair as she.”
+
+
+When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook with rage.
+“Snow-white shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!”
+
+Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no one ever
+came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked
+pretty, white with a red cheek, so that everyone who saw it longed for
+it; but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.
+
+When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself up
+as a country-woman, and so she went over the seven mountains to the
+seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of
+the window and said, “I cannot let any one in; the seven dwarfs have
+forbidden me.” “It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall
+soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.”
+
+“No,” said Snow-white, “I dare not take anything.” “Are you afraid of
+poison?” said the old woman; “look, I will cut the apple in two pieces;
+you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.” The apple was so
+cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Snow-white longed
+for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman ate part of it she
+could resist no longer, and stretched out her hand and took the
+poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth than she
+fell down dead. Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and
+laughed aloud and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as
+ebony-wood! this time the dwarfs cannot wake you up again.”
+
+And when she asked of the Looking-glass at home—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+it answered at last—
+
+“Oh, Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.”
+
+
+Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have
+rest.
+
+The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found Snow-white lying
+upon the ground; she breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted her
+up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced
+her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was all of
+no use; the poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon
+a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept
+three days long.
+
+Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she were
+living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said, “We could not
+bury her in the dark ground,” and they had a transparent coffin of
+glass made, so that she could be seen from all sides, and they laid her
+in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she was a
+king’s daughter. Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain, and
+one of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and
+wept for Snow-white; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.
+
+And now Snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she did not
+change, but looked as if she were asleep; for she was as white as snow,
+as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony.
+
+It happened, however, that a king’s son came into the forest, and went
+to the dwarfs’ house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the
+mountain, and the beautiful Snow-white within it, and read what was
+written upon it in golden letters. Then he said to the dwarfs, “Let me
+have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it.” But the
+dwarfs answered, “We will not part with it for all the gold in the
+world.” Then he said, “Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live
+without seeing Snow-white. I will honour and prize her as my dearest
+possession.” As he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon
+him, and gave him the coffin.
+
+And now the King’s son had it carried away by his servants on their
+shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and
+with the shock the poisonous piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten
+off came out of her throat. And before long she opened her eyes, lifted
+up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive. “Oh,
+heavens, where am I?” she cried. The King’s son, full of joy, said,
+“You are with me,” and told her what had happened, and said, “I love
+you more than everything in the world; come with me to my father’s
+palace, you shall be my wife.”
+
+And Snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding was
+held with great show and splendour. But Snow-white’s wicked step-mother
+was also bidden to the feast. When she had arrayed herself in beautiful
+clothes she went before the Looking-glass, and said—
+
+“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
+Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
+
+
+the glass answered—
+
+“Oh, Queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
+But the young Queen is fairer by far as I trow.”
+
+
+Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched, so utterly
+wretched, that she knew not what to do. At first she would not go to
+the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and must go to see the young
+Queen. And when she went in she knew Snow-white; and she stood still
+with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already
+been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set
+before her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance
+until she dropped down dead.

content/library/grimm/054_the_knapsack_the_hat_and_the_horn.txt

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+The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn
+
+There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into
+poverty, and at last their need was so great that they had to endure
+hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then said they, “We cannot go
+on thus, we had better go into the world and seek our fortune.” They
+therefore set out, and had already walked over many a long road and
+many a blade of grass, but had not yet met with good luck. One day they
+arrived in a great forest, and in the midst of it was a hill, and when
+they came nearer they saw that the hill was all silver. Then spoke the
+eldest, “Now I have found the good luck I wished for, and I desire
+nothing more.” He took as much of the silver as he could possibly
+carry, and then turned back and went home again. But the two others
+said, “We want something more from good luck than mere silver,” and did
+not touch it, but went onwards. After they had walked for two days
+longer without stopping, they came to a hill which was all gold. The
+second brother stopped, took thought with himself, and was undecided.
+“What shall I do?” said he; “shall I take for myself so much of this
+gold, that I have sufficient for all the rest of my life, or shall I go
+farther?” At length he made a decision, and putting as much into his
+pockets as would go in, said farewell to his brother, and went home.
+But the third said, “Silver and gold do not move me, I will not
+renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will be
+given me.” He journeyed onwards, and when he had walked for three days,
+he got into a forest which was still larger than the one before, and
+never would come to an end, and as he found nothing to eat or to drink,
+he was all but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to find out if
+up there he could see the end of the forest, but so far as his eye
+could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then he began to
+descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he thought to
+himself, “If I could but eat my fill once more!” When he got down he
+saw with astonishment a table beneath the tree richly spread with food,
+the steam of which rose up to meet him. “This time,” said he, “my wish
+has been fulfilled at the right moment.” And without inquiring who had
+brought the food, or who had cooked it, he approached the table, and
+ate with enjoyment until he had appeased his hunger. When he was done,
+he thought, “It would after all be a pity if the pretty little
+table-cloth were to be spoilt in the forest here,” and folded it up
+tidily and put it in his pocket. Then he went onwards, and in the
+evening, when hunger once more made itself felt, he wanted to make a
+trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and said, “I wish thee to
+be covered with good cheer again,” and scarcely had the wish crossed
+his lips than as many dishes with the most exquisite food on them stood
+on the table as there was room for. “Now I perceive,” said he, “in what
+kitchen my cooking is done. Thou shalt be dearer to me than the
+mountains of silver and gold.” For he saw plainly that it was a
+wishing-cloth. The cloth, however, was still not enough to enable him
+to sit down quietly at home; he preferred to wander about the world and
+pursue his fortune farther.
+
+One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black charcoal-burner, who
+was burning charcoal there, and had some potatoes by the fire, on which
+he was going to make a meal. “Good evening, blackbird!” said the youth.
+“How dost thou get on in thy solitude?”
+
+“One day is like another,” replied the charcoal-burner, “and every
+night potatoes! Hast thou a mind to have some, and wilt thou be my
+guest?” “Many thanks,” replied the traveler, “I won’t rob thee of thy
+supper; thou didst not reckon on a visitor, but if thou wilt put up
+with what I have, thou shalt have an invitation.”
+
+“Who is to prepare it for thee?” said the charcoal-burner. “I see that
+thou hast nothing with thee, and there is no one within a two hours’
+walk who could give thee anything.” “And yet there shall be a meal,”
+answered the youth, “and better than any thou hast ever tasted.”
+Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his knapsack, spread it on the
+ground, and said, “Little cloth, cover thyself,” and instantly boiled
+meat and baked meat stood there, and as hot as if it had just come out
+of the kitchen. The charcoal-burner stared, but did not require much
+pressing; he fell to, and thrust larger and larger mouthfuls into his
+black mouth. When they had eaten everything, the charcoal-burner smiled
+contentedly, and said, “Hark thee, thy table-cloth has my approval; it
+would be a fine thing for me in this forest, where no one ever cooks me
+anything good. I will propose an exchange to thee; there in the corner
+hangs a soldier’s knapsack, which is certainly old and shabby, but in
+it lie concealed wonderful powers; but, as I no longer use it, I will
+give it to thee for the table-cloth.”
+
+“I must first know what these wonderful powers are,” answered the
+youth.
+
+“That will I tell thee,” replied the charcoal-burner; “every time thou
+tappest it with thy hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head
+to foot, and they do whatsoever thou commandest them.” “So far as I am
+concerned,” said the youth, “if nothing else can be done, we will
+exchange,” and he gave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took the knapsack
+from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell. When he had walked a
+while, he wished to make a trial of the magical powers of his knapsack
+and tapped it. Immediately the seven warriors stepped up to him, and
+the corporal said, “What does my lord and ruler wish for?”
+
+“March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my
+wishing-cloth back.” They faced to the left, and it was not long before
+they brought what he required, and had taken it from the
+charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man bade them
+retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more brightly
+on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner, who was making
+his supper ready by the fire. “If thou wilt eat some potatoes with
+salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,” said the sooty
+fellow.
+
+“No, he replied, this time thou shalt be my guest,” and he spread out
+his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most beautiful dishes.
+They ate and drank together, and enjoyed themselves heartily. After the
+meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, “Up there on that shelf lies a
+little old worn-out hat which has strange properties: when any one puts
+it on, and turns it round on his head, the cannons go off as if twelve
+were fired all together, and they shoot down everything so that no one
+can withstand them. The hat is of no use to me, and I will willingly
+give it for thy table-cloth.”
+
+“That suits me very well,” he answered, took the hat, put it on, and
+left his table-cloth behind him. Hardly, however, had he walked away
+than he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth
+back again. “One thing comes on the top of another,” thought he, “and I
+feel as if my luck had not yet come to an end.” Neither had his
+thoughts deceived him. After he had walked on for the whole of one day,
+he came to a third charcoal-burner, who like the previous ones, invited
+him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine with him
+from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so well, that
+at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very different
+properties from those of the hat. When any one blew it all the walls
+and fortifications fell down, and all towns and villages became ruins.
+He certainly gave the charcoal-burner the cloth for it, but he
+afterwards sent his soldiers to demand it back again, so that at length
+he had the knapsack, hat and horn, all three. “Now,” said he, “I am a
+made man, and it is time for me to go home and see how my brothers are
+getting on.”
+
+When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a handsome
+house with their silver and gold, and were living in clover. He went to
+see them, but as he came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on his
+head, and his old knapsack on his back, they would not acknowledge him
+as their brother. They mocked and said, “Thou givest out that thou art
+our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for something
+still better for himself. He will come in his carriage in full
+splendour like a mighty king, not like a beggar,” and they drove him
+out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped his knapsack until a
+hundred and fifty men stood before him armed from head to foot. He
+commanded them to surround his brothers’ house, and two of them were to
+take hazel-sticks with them, and beat the two insolent men until they
+knew who he was. A violent disturbance arose, people ran together, and
+wanted to lend the two some help in their need, but against the
+soldiers they could do nothing. News of this at length came to the
+King, who was very angry, and ordered a captain to march out with his
+troop, and drive this disturber of the peace out of the town; but the
+man with the knapsack soon got a greater body of men together, who
+repulsed the captain and his men, so that they were forced to retire
+with bloody noses. The King said, “This vagabond is not brought to
+order yet,” and next day sent a still larger troop against him, but
+they could do even less. The youth set still more men against them, and
+in order to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his
+head, and heavy guns began to play, and the king’s men were beaten and
+put to flight. “And now,” said he, “I will not make peace until the
+King gives me his daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in
+his name.” He caused this to be announced to the King, and the latter
+said to his daughter, “Necessity is a hard nut to crack, what remains
+to me but to do what he desires? If I want peace and to keep the crown
+on my head, I must give thee away.”
+
+So the wedding was celebrated, but the King’s daughter was vexed that
+her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby hat, and put on
+an old knapsack. She wished much to get rid of him, and night and day
+studied how she could accomplished this. Then she thought to herself,
+“Is it possible that his wonderful powers lie in the knapsack?” and she
+dissembled and caressed him, and when his heart was softened, she said,
+“If thou wouldst but lay aside that ugly knapsack, it makes disfigures
+thee so, that I can’t help being ashamed of thee.” “Dear child,” said
+he, “this knapsack is my greatest treasure; as long as I have it, there
+is no power on earth that I am afraid of.” And he revealed to her the
+wonderful virtue with which it was endowed. Then she threw herself in
+his arms as if she were going to kiss him, but dexterously took the
+knapsack off his shoulders, and ran away with it. As soon as she was
+alone she tapped it, and commanded the warriors to seize their former
+master, and take him out of the royal palace. They obeyed, and the
+false wife sent still more men after him, who were to drive him quite
+out of the country. Then he would have been ruined if he had not had
+the little hat. But his hands were scarcely at liberty before he turned
+it twice. Immediately the cannon began to thunder, and struck down
+everything, and the King’s daughter herself was forced to come and beg
+for mercy. As she entreated in such moving terms, and promised
+amendment, he allowed himself to be persuaded and granted her peace.
+She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she loved him
+very much, and after some time managed so to befool him, that he
+confided to her that even if someone got the knapsack into his power,
+he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat was still his.
+When she knew the secret, she waited until he was asleep, and then she
+took the hat away from him, and had it thrown out into the street. But
+the horn still remained to him, and in great anger he blew it with all
+his strength. Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages,
+toppled down, and crushed the King and his daughter to death. And had
+he not put down the horn and had blown just a little longer, everything
+would have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been left
+standing on another. Then no one opposed him any longer, and he made
+himself King of the whole country.

content/library/grimm/055_rumpelstiltskin.txt

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+Rumpelstiltskin
+
+Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter.
+Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the King, and in order
+to make himself appear important he said to him, “I have a daughter who
+can spin straw into gold.” The King said to the miller, “That is an art
+which pleases me well; if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring
+her to-morrow to my palace, and I will try what she can do.”
+
+And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room which was
+quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said,
+“Now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun
+this straw into gold during the night, you must die.” Thereupon he
+himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the
+poor miller’s daughter, and for the life of her could not tell what to
+do; she had no idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew
+more and more miserable, until at last she began to weep.
+
+But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man, and said,
+“Good evening, Mistress Miller; why are you crying so?” “Alas!”
+answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know
+how to do it.” “What will you give me,” said the manikin, “if I do it
+for you?” “My necklace,” said the girl. The little man took the
+necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and “whirr, whirr,
+whirr,” three turns, and the reel was full; then he put another on, and
+whirr, whirr, whirr, three times round, and the second was full too.
+And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and
+all the reels were full of gold. By daybreak the King was already
+there, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but
+his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller’s daughter taken
+into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded
+her to spin that also in one night if she valued her life. The girl
+knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door again
+opened, and the little man appeared, and said, “What will you give me
+if I spin that straw into gold for you?” “The ring on my finger,”
+answered the girl. The little man took the ring, again began to turn
+the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
+
+The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not
+gold enough; and he had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger
+room full of straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course
+of this night; but if you succeed, you shall be my wife.” “Even if she
+be a miller’s daughter,” thought he, “I could not find a richer wife in
+the whole world.”
+
+When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third time, and
+said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time
+also?” “I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl.
+“Then promise me, if you should become Queen, your first child.” “Who
+knows whether that will ever happen?” thought the miller’s daughter;
+and, not knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she promised
+the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more span the straw
+into gold.
+
+And when the King came in the morning, and found all as he had wished,
+he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller’s daughter became a
+Queen.
+
+A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought
+to the manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “Now give
+me what you promised.” The Queen was horror-struck, and offered the
+manikin all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child.
+But the manikin said, “No, something that is living is dearer to me
+than all the treasures in the world.” Then the Queen began to weep and
+cry, so that the manikin pitied her. “I will give you three days’
+time,” said he, “if by that time you find out my name, then shall you
+keep your child.”
+
+So the Queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever
+heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and
+wide, for any other names that there might be. When the manikin came
+the next day, she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and said all
+the names she knew, one after another; but to every one the little man
+said, “That is not my name.” On the second day she had inquiries made
+in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she
+repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. “Perhaps your
+name is Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg?” but he always answered,
+“That is not my name.”
+
+On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, “I have not
+been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a high mountain
+at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other
+good night, there I saw a little house, and before the house a fire was
+burning, and round about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was
+jumping: he hopped upon one leg, and shouted—
+
+“To-day I bake, to-morrow brew,
+The next I’ll have the young Queen’s child.
+Ha! glad am I that no one knew
+That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.”
+
+
+You may think how glad the Queen was when she heard the name! And when
+soon afterwards the little man came in, and asked, “Now, Mistress
+Queen, what is my name?” at first she said, “Is your name Conrad?”
+“No.” “Is your name Harry?” “No.”
+
+“Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?”
+
+“The devil has told you that! the devil has told you that!” cried the
+little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the
+earth that his whole leg went in; and then in rage he pulled at his
+left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two.

content/library/grimm/056_sweetheart_roland.txt

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+Sweetheart Roland
+
+There was once on a time a woman who was a real witch and had two
+daughters, one ugly and wicked, and this one she loved because she was
+her own daughter, and one beautiful and good, and this one she hated,
+because she was her step-daughter. The step-daughter once had a pretty
+apron, which the other fancied so much that she became envious, and
+told her mother that she must and would have that apron. “Be quiet, my
+child,” said the old woman, “and thou shalt have it. Thy step-sister
+has long deserved death, to-night when she is asleep I will come and
+cut her head off. Only be careful that thou art at the far-side of the
+bed, and push her well to the front.” It would have been all over with
+the poor girl if she had not just then been standing in a corner, and
+heard everything. All day long she dared not go out of doors, and when
+bed-time had come, the witch’s daughter got into bed first, so as to
+lie at the far side, but when she was asleep, the other pushed her
+gently to the front, and took for herself the place at the back, close
+by the wall. In the night, the old woman came creeping in, she held an
+axe in her right hand, and felt with her left to see if anyone was
+lying at the outside, and then she grasped the axe with both hands, and
+cut her own child’s head off.
+
+When she had gone away, the girl got up and went to her sweetheart, who
+was called Roland, and knocked at his door. When he came out, she said
+to him, “Hear me, dearest Roland, we must fly in all haste; my
+step-mother wanted to kill me, but has struck her own child. When
+daylight comes, and she sees what she has done, we shall be lost.”
+“But,” said Roland, “I counsel thee first to take away her magic wand,
+or we cannot escape if she pursues us.” The maiden fetched the magic
+wand, and she took the dead girl’s head and dropped three drops of
+blood on the ground, one in front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and
+one on the stairs. Then she hurried away with her lover. When the old
+witch got up next morning, she called her daughter, and wanted to give
+her the apron, but she did not come. Then the witch cried, “Where art
+thou?” “Here, on the stairs, I am sweeping,” answered the first drop of
+blood. The old woman went out, but saw no one on the stairs, and cried
+again, “Where art thou?” “Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself,”
+cried the second drop of blood. She went into the kitchen, but found no
+one. Then she cried again, “Where art thou?” “Ah, here in the bed, I am
+sleeping.” cried the third drop of blood. She went into the room to the
+bed. What did she see there? Her own child, whose head she had cut off,
+bathed in her blood. The witch fell into a passion, sprang to the
+window, and as she could look forth quite far into the world, she
+perceived her step-daughter hurrying away with her sweetheart Roland.
+“That shall not serve you,” cried she, “even if you have got a long way
+off, you shall still not escape me.” She put on her many league boots,
+in which went an hour’s walk at every step, and it was not long before
+she overtook them. The girl, however, when she saw the old woman
+striding towards her, changed, with her magic wand, her sweetheart
+Roland into a lake, and herself into a duck swimming in the middle of
+it. The witch placed herself on the shore, threw bread-crumbs in, and
+gave herself every possible trouble to entice the duck; but the duck
+did not let herself be enticed, and the old woman had to go home at
+night as she had come. On this the girl and her sweetheart Roland
+resumed their natural shapes again, and they walked on the whole night
+until daybreak. Then the maiden changed herself into a beautiful flower
+which stood in the midst of a briar hedge, and her sweetheart Roland
+into a fiddler. It was not long before the witch came striding up
+towards them, and said to the musician, “Dear musician, may I pluck
+that beautiful flower for myself?” “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I will play
+to you while you do it.” As she was hastily creeping into the hedge and
+was just going to pluck the flower, for she well knew who the flower
+was, he began to play, and whether she would or not, she was forced to
+dance, for it was a magical dance. The quicker he played, the more
+violent springs was she forced to make, and the thorns tore her clothes
+from her body, and pricked her and wounded her till she bled, and as he
+did not stop, she had to dance till she lay dead on the ground.
+
+When they were delivered, Roland said, “Now I will go to my father and
+arrange for the wedding.” “Then in the meantime I will stay here and
+wait for thee,” said the girl, “and that no one may recognize me, I
+will change myself into a red stone land-mark.” Then Roland went away,
+and the girl stood like a red land-mark in the field and waited for her
+beloved. But when Roland got home, he fell into the snares of another,
+who prevailed on him so far that he forgot the maiden. The poor girl
+remained there a long time, but at length, as he did not return at all,
+she was sad, and changed herself into a flower, and thought, “Some one
+will surely come this way, and trample me down.”
+
+It befell, however, that a shepherd kept his sheep in the field, and
+saw the flower, and as it was so pretty, plucked it, took it with him,
+and laid it away in his chest. From that time forth, strange things
+happened in the shepherd’s house. When he arose in the morning, all the
+work was already done, the room was swept, the table and benches
+cleaned, the fire on the hearth was lighted, and the water was fetched,
+and at noon, when he came home, the table was laid, and a good dinner
+served. He could not conceive how this came to pass, for he never saw a
+human being in his house, and no one could have concealed himself in
+it. He was certainly pleased with this good attendance, but still at
+last he was so afraid that he went to a wise woman and asked for her
+advice. The wise woman said, “There is some enchantment behind it,
+listen very early some morning if anything is moving in the room, and
+if thou seest anything, let it be what it may, throw a white cloth over
+it, and then the magic will be stopped.”
+
+The shepherd did as she bade him, and next morning just as day dawned,
+he saw the chest open, and the flower come out. Swiftly he sprang
+towards it, and threw a white cloth over it. Instantly the
+transformation came to an end, and a beautiful girl stood before him,
+who owned to him that she had been the flower, and that up to this time
+she had attended to his housekeeping. She told him her story, and as
+she pleased him he asked her if she would marry him, but she answered,
+“No,” for she wanted to remain faithful to her sweetheart Roland,
+although he had deserted her, but she promised not to go away, but to
+keep house for the shepherd for the future.
+
+And now the time drew near when Roland’s wedding was to be celebrated,
+and then, according to an old custom in the country, it was announced
+that all the girls were to be present at it, and sing in honour of the
+bridal pair. When the faithful maiden heard of this, she grew so sad
+that she thought her heart would break, and she would not go thither,
+but the other girls came and took her. When it came to her turn to
+sing, she stepped back, until at last she was the only one left, and
+then she could not refuse. But when she began her song, and it reached
+Roland’s ears, he sprang up and cried, “I know the voice, that is the
+true bride, I will have no other!” Everything he had forgotten, and
+which had vanished from his mind, had suddenly come home again to his
+heart. Then the faithful maiden held her wedding with her sweetheart
+Roland, and grief came to an end and joy began.

content/library/grimm/057_the_golden_bird.txt

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+The Golden Bird
+
+In the olden time there was a king, who had behind his palace a
+beautiful pleasure-garden in which there was a tree that bore golden
+apples. When the apples were getting ripe they were counted, but on the
+very next morning one was missing. This was told to the King, and he
+ordered that a watch should be kept every night beneath the tree.
+
+The King had three sons, the eldest of whom he sent, as soon as night
+came on, into the garden; but when midnight came he could not keep
+himself from sleeping, and next morning again an apple was gone.
+
+The following night the second son had to keep watch, it fared no
+better with him; as soon as twelve o’clock had struck he fell asleep,
+and in the morning an apple was gone.
+
+Now it came to the turn of the third son to watch; and he was quite
+ready, but the King had not much trust in him, and thought that he
+would be of less use even than his brothers; but at last he let him go.
+The youth lay down beneath the tree, but kept awake, and did not let
+sleep master him. When it struck twelve, something rustled through the
+air, and in the moonlight he saw a bird coming whose feathers were all
+shining with gold. The bird alighted on the tree, and had just plucked
+off an apple, when the youth shot an arrow at him. The bird flew off,
+but the arrow had struck his plumage, and one of his golden feathers
+fell down. The youth picked it up, and the next morning took it to the
+King and told him what he had seen in the night. The King called his
+council together, and everyone declared that a feather like this was
+worth more than the whole kingdom. “If the feather is so precious,”
+declared the King, “one alone will not do for me; I must and will have
+the whole bird!”
+
+The eldest son set out; he trusted to his cleverness, and thought that
+he would easily find the Golden Bird. When he had gone some distance he
+saw a Fox sitting at the edge of a wood, so he cocked his gun and took
+aim at him. The Fox cried, “Do not shoot me! and in return I will give
+you some good counsel. You are on the way to the Golden Bird; and this
+evening you will come to a village in which stand two inns opposite to
+one another. One of them is lighted up brightly, and all goes on
+merrily within, but do not go into it; go rather into the other, even
+though it seems a bad one.” “How can such a silly beast give wise
+advice?” thought the King’s son, and he pulled the trigger. But he
+missed the Fox, who stretched out his tail and ran quickly into the
+wood.
+
+So he pursued his way, and by evening came to the village where the two
+inns were; in one they were singing and dancing; the other had a poor,
+miserable look. “I should be a fool, indeed,” he thought, “if I were to
+go into the shabby tavern, and pass by the good one.” So he went into
+the cheerful one, lived there in riot and revel, and forgot the bird
+and his father, and all good counsels.
+
+When some time had passed, and the eldest son for month after month did
+not come back home, the second set out, wishing to find the Golden
+Bird. The Fox met him as he had met the eldest, and gave him the good
+advice of which he took no heed. He came to the two inns, and his
+brother was standing at the window of the one from which came the
+music, and called out to him. He could not resist, but went inside and
+lived only for pleasure.
+
+Again some time passed, and then the King’s youngest son wanted to set
+off and try his luck, but his father would not allow it. “It is of no
+use,” said he, “he will find the Golden Bird still less than his
+brothers, and if a mishap were to befall him he knows not how to help
+himself; he is a little wanting at the best.” But at last, as he had no
+peace, he let him go.
+
+Again the Fox was sitting outside the wood, and begged for his life,
+and offered his good advice. The youth was good-natured, and said, “Be
+easy, little Fox, I will do you no harm.” “You shall not repent it,”
+answered the Fox; “and that you may get on more quickly, get up behind
+on my tail.” And scarcely had he seated himself when the Fox began to
+run, and away he went over stock and stone till his hair whistled in
+the wind. When they came to the village the youth got off; he followed
+the good advice, and without looking round turned into the little inn,
+where he spent the night quietly.
+
+The next morning, as soon as he got into the open country, there sat
+the Fox already, and said, “I will tell you further what you have to
+do. Go on quite straight, and at last you will come to a castle, in
+front of which a whole regiment of soldiers is lying, but do not
+trouble yourself about them, for they will all be asleep and snoring.
+Go through the midst of them straight into the castle, and go through
+all the rooms, till at last you will come to a chamber where a Golden
+Bird is hanging in a wooden cage. Close by, there stands an empty gold
+cage for show, but beware of taking the bird out of the common cage and
+putting it into the fine one, or it may go badly with you.” With these
+words the Fox again stretched out his tail, and the King’s son seated
+himself upon it, and away he went over stock and stone till his hair
+whistled in the wind.
+
+When he came to the castle he found everything as the Fox had said. The
+King’s son went into the chamber where the Golden Bird was shut up in a
+wooden cage, whilst a golden one stood hard by; and the three golden
+apples lay about the room. “But,” thought he, “it would be absurd if I
+were to leave the beautiful bird in the common and ugly cage,” so he
+opened the door, laid hold of it, and put it into the golden cage. But
+at the same moment the bird uttered a shrill cry. The soldiers awoke,
+rushed in, and took him off to prison. The next morning he was taken
+before a court of justice, and as he confessed everything, was
+sentenced to death.
+
+The King, however, said that he would grant him his life on one
+condition namely, if he brought him the Golden Horse which ran faster
+than the wind; and in that case he should receive, over and above, as a
+reward, the Golden Bird.
+
+The King’s son set off, but he sighed and was sorrowful, for how was he
+to find the Golden Horse? But all at once he saw his old friend the Fox
+sitting on the road. “Look you,” said the Fox, “this has happened
+because you did not give heed to me. However, be of good courage. I
+will give you my help, and tell you how to get to the Golden Horse. You
+must go straight on, and you will come to a castle, where in the stable
+stands the horse. The grooms will be lying in front of the stable; but
+they will be asleep and snoring, and you can quietly lead out the
+Golden Horse. But of one thing you must take heed; put on him the
+common saddle of wood and leather, and not the golden one, which hangs
+close by, else it will go ill with you.” Then the Fox stretched out his
+tail, the King’s son seated himself upon it, and away he went over
+stock and stone until his hair whistled in the wind.
+
+Everything happened just as the Fox had said; the prince came to the
+stable in which the Golden Horse was standing, but just as he was going
+to put the common saddle upon him, he thought, “It will be a shame to
+such a beautiful beast, if I do not give him the good saddle which
+belongs to him by right.” But scarcely had the golden saddle touched
+the horse than he began to neigh loudly. The grooms awoke, seized the
+youth, and threw him into prison. The next morning he was sentenced by
+the court to death; but the King promised to grant him his life, and
+the Golden Horse as well, if he could bring back the beautiful princess
+from the Golden Castle.
+
+With a heavy heart the youth set out; yet luckily for him he soon found
+the trusty Fox. “I ought only to leave you to your ill-luck,” said the
+Fox, “but I pity you, and will help you once more out of your trouble.
+This road takes you straight to the Golden Castle, you will reach it by
+eventide; and at night when everything is quiet the beautiful princess
+goes to the bathing-house to bathe. When she enters it, run up to her
+and give her a kiss, then she will follow you, and you can take her
+away with you; only do not allow her to take leave of her parents
+first, or it will go ill with you.”
+
+Then the Fox stretched out his tail, the King’s son seated himself upon
+it, and away the Fox went, over stock and stone, till his hair whistled
+in the wind.
+
+When he reached the Golden Castle it was just as the Fox had said. He
+waited until midnight, when everything lay in deep sleep, and the
+beautiful princess was going to the bathing-house. Then he sprang out
+and gave her a kiss. She said that she would like to go with him, but
+she asked him pitifully, and with tears, to allow her first to take
+leave of her parents. At first he withstood her prayer, but when she
+wept more and more, and fell at his feet, he at last gave in. But no
+sooner had the maiden reached the bedside of her father than he and all
+the rest in the castle awoke, and the youth was laid hold of and put
+into prison.
+
+The next morning the King said to him, “Your life is forfeited, and you
+can only find mercy if you take away the hill which stands in front of
+my windows, and prevents my seeing beyond it; and you must finish it
+all within eight days. If you do that you shall have my daughter as
+your reward.”
+
+The King’s son began, and dug and shovelled without leaving off, but
+when after seven days he saw how little he had done, and how all his
+work was as good as nothing, he fell into great sorrow and gave up all
+hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the Fox appeared and said,
+“You do not deserve that I should take any trouble about you; but just
+go away and lie down to sleep, and I will do the work for you.”
+
+The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window the hill
+had gone. The youth ran, full of joy, to the King, and told him that
+the task was fulfilled, and whether he liked it or not, the King had to
+hold to his word and give him his daughter.
+
+So the two set forth together, and it was not long before the trusty
+Fox came up with them. “You have certainly got what is best,” said he,
+“but the Golden Horse also belongs to the maiden of the Golden Castle.”
+“How shall I get it?” asked the youth. “That I will tell you,” answered
+the Fox; “first take the beautiful maiden to the King who sent you to
+the Golden Castle. There will be unheard-of rejoicing; they will gladly
+give you the Golden Horse, and will bring it out to you. Mount it as
+soon as possible, and offer your hand to all in farewell; last of all
+to the beautiful maiden. And as soon as you have taken her hand swing
+her up on to the horse, and gallop away, and no one will be able to
+bring you back, for the horse runs faster than the wind.”
+
+All was carried out successfully, and the King’s son carried off the
+beautiful princess on the Golden Horse.
+
+The Fox did not remain behind, and he said to the youth, “Now I will
+help you to get the Golden Bird. When you come near to the castle where
+the Golden Bird is to be found, let the maiden get down, and I will
+take her into my care. Then ride with the Golden Horse into the
+castle-yard; there will be great rejoicing at the sight, and they will
+bring out the Golden Bird for you. As soon as you have the cage in your
+hand gallop back to us, and take the maiden away again.”
+
+When the plan had succeeded, and the King’s son was about to ride home
+with his treasures, the Fox said, “Now you shall reward me for my
+help.” “What do you require for it?” asked the youth. “When you get
+into the wood yonder, shoot me dead, and chop off my head and feet.”
+
+“That would be fine gratitude,” said the King’s son. “I cannot possibly
+do that for you.”
+
+The Fox said, “If you will not do it I must leave you, but before I go
+away I will give you a piece of good advice. Be careful about two
+things. Buy no gallows’-flesh, and do not sit at the edge of any well.”
+And then he ran into the wood.
+
+The youth thought, “That is a wonderful beast, he has strange whims;
+who is going to buy gallows’-flesh? and the desire to sit at the edge
+of a well it has never yet seized me.”
+
+He rode on with the beautiful maiden, and his road took him again
+through the village in which his two brothers had remained. There was a
+great stir and noise, and, when he asked what was going on, he was told
+that two men were going to be hanged. As he came nearer to the place he
+saw that they were his brothers, who had been playing all kinds of
+wicked pranks, and had squandered all their wealth. He inquired whether
+they could not be set free. “If you will pay for them,” answered the
+people; “but why should you waste your money on wicked men, and buy
+them free.” He did not think twice about it, but paid for them, and
+when they were set free they all went on their way together.
+
+They came to the wood where the Fox had first met them, as it was cool
+and pleasant within it, the two brothers said, “Let us rest a little by
+the well, and eat and drink.” He agreed, and whilst they were talking
+he forgot himself, and sat down upon the edge of the well without
+thinking of any evil. But the two brothers threw him backwards into the
+well, took the maiden, the Horse, and the Bird, and went home to their
+father. “Here we bring you not only the Golden Bird,” said they; “we
+have won the Golden Horse also, and the maiden from the Golden Castle.”
+Then was there great joy; but the Horse would not eat, the Bird would
+not sing, and the maiden sat and wept.
+
+But the youngest brother was not dead. By good fortune the well was
+dry, and he fell upon soft moss without being hurt, but he could not
+get out again. Even in this strait the faithful Fox did not leave him:
+it came and leapt down to him, and upbraided him for having forgotten
+its advice. “But yet I cannot give it up so,” he said; “I will help you
+up again into daylight.” He bade him grasp his tail and keep tight hold
+of it; and then he pulled him up.
+
+“You are not out of all danger yet,” said the Fox. “Your brothers were
+not sure of your death, and have surrounded the wood with watchers, who
+are to kill you if you let yourself be seen.” But a poor man was
+sitting upon the road, with whom the youth changed clothes, and in this
+way he got to the King’s palace.
+
+No one knew him, but the Bird began to sing, the Horse began to eat,
+and the beautiful maiden left off weeping. The King, astonished, asked,
+“What does this mean?” Then the maiden said, “I do not know, but I have
+been so sorrowful and now I am so happy! I feel as if my true
+bridegroom had come.” She told him all that had happened, although the
+other brothers had threatened her with death if she were to betray
+anything.
+
+The King commanded that all people who were in his castle should be
+brought before him; and amongst them came the youth in his ragged
+clothes; but the maiden knew him at once and fell upon his neck. The
+wicked brothers were seized and put to death, but he was married to the
+beautiful maiden and declared heir to the King.
+
+But how did it fare with the poor Fox? Long afterwards the King’s son
+was once again walking in the wood, when the Fox met him and said, “You
+have everything now that you can wish for, but there is never an end to
+my misery, and yet it is in your power to free me,” and again he asked
+him with tears to shoot him dead and chop off his head and feet. So he
+did it, and scarcely was it done when the Fox was changed into a man,
+and was no other than the brother of the beautiful princess, who at
+last was freed from the magic charm which had been laid upon him. And
+now nothing more was wanting to their happiness as long as they lived.

content/library/grimm/058_the_dog_and_the_sparrow.txt

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+The Dog and the Sparrow
+
+A sheep-dog had not a good master, but, on the contrary, one who let
+him suffer hunger. As he could stay no longer with him, he went quite
+sadly away. On the road he met a sparrow who said, “Brother dog, why
+art thou so sad?” The dog replied, “I am hungry, and have nothing to
+eat.” Then said the sparrow, “Dear brother, come into the town with me,
+and I will satisfy thy hunger.” So they went into the town together,
+and when they came in front of a butcher’s shop the sparrow said to the
+dog, “Stay there, and I will pick a bit of meat down for thee,” and he
+alighted on the stall, looked about him to see that no one was
+observing him, and pecked and pulled and tore so long at a piece which
+lay on the edge, that it slipped down. Then the dog seized it, ran into
+a corner, and devoured it. The sparrow said, “Now come with me to
+another shop, and then I will get thee one more piece that thou mayst
+be satisfied.” When the dog had devoured the second piece as well, the
+sparrow asked, “Brother dog, hast thou now had enough?” “Yes, I have
+had meat enough,” he answered, “but I have had no bread yet.” Said the
+sparrow, “Thou shalt have that also, come with me.” Then he took him to
+a baker’s shop, and pecked at a couple of little buns till they rolled
+down, and as the dog wanted still more, he led him to another stall,
+and again got bread for him. When that was consumed, the sparrow said,
+“Brother dog, hast thou now had enough?” “Yes,” he replied, “now we
+will walk awhile outside the town.” Then they both went out on to the
+highway. It was, however, warm weather, and when they had walked a
+little way the dog said, “I am tired, and would like to sleep.” “Well,
+do sleep,” answered the sparrow, “and in the meantime I will seat
+myself on a branch.” So the dog lay down on the road, and fell fast
+asleep. Whilst he lay sleeping there, a waggoner came driving by, who
+had a cart with three horses, laden with two barrels of wine. The
+sparrow, however, saw that he was not going to turn aside, but was
+staying in the wheel track in which the dog was lying, so it cried,
+“Waggoner, don’t do it, or I will make thee poor.” The waggoner,
+however, growled to himself, “Thou wilt not make me poor,” and cracked
+his whip and drove the cart over the dog, and the wheels killed him.
+Then the sparrow cried, “Thou hast run over my brother dog and killed
+him, it shall cost thee thy cart and horses.” “Cart and horses indeed!”
+said the waggoner. “What harm canst thou do me?” and drove onwards.
+Then the sparrow crept under the cover of the cart, and pecked so long
+at the same bung-hole that he got the bung out, and then all the wine
+ran out without the driver noticing it. But once when he was looking
+behind him he saw that the cart was dripping, and looked at the barrels
+and saw that one of them was empty. “Unfortunate fellow that I am,”
+cried he. “Not unfortunate enough yet,” said the sparrow, and flew on
+to the head of one of the horses and pecked his eyes out. When the
+driver saw that, he drew out his axe and wanted to hit the sparrow, but
+the sparrow flew into the air, and he hit his horse on the head, and it
+fell down dead. “Oh, what an unfortunate man I am,” cried he. “Not
+unfortunate enough yet,” said the sparrow, and when the driver drove on
+with the two horses, the sparrow again crept under the cover, and
+pecked the bung out of the second cask, so all the wine was spilt. When
+the driver became aware of it, he again cried, “Oh, what an unfortunate
+man I am,” but the sparrow replied, “Not unfortunate enough yet,” and
+seated himself on the head of the second horse, and pecked his eyes
+out. The driver ran up to it and raised his axe to strike, but the
+sparrow flew into the air and the blow struck the horse, which fell.
+“Oh, what an unfortunate man I am.” “Not unfortunate enough yet,” said
+the sparrow, and lighted on the third horse’s head, and pecked out his
+eyes. The driver, in his rage, struck at the sparrow without looking
+round, and did not hit him but killed his third horse likewise. “Oh,
+what an unfortunate man I am,” cried he. “Not unfortunate enough yet,”
+answered the sparrow. “Now will I make thee unfortunate in thy home,”
+and flew away.
+
+The driver had to leave the waggon standing, and full of anger and
+vexation went home. “Ah,” said he to his wife, “what misfortunes I have
+had! My wine has run out, and the horses are all three dead!” “Alas,
+husband,” she answered, “what a malicious bird has come into the house!
+It has gathered together every bird there is in the world, and they
+have fallen on our corn up there, and are devouring it.” Then he went
+upstairs, and thousands and thousands of birds were sitting in the loft
+and had eaten up all the corn, and the sparrow was sitting in the midst
+of them. Then the driver cried, “Oh, what an unfortunate man I am?”
+
+“Not unfortunate enough yet!” answered the sparrow; “waggoner, it shall
+cost thee thy life as well,” and flew out.
+
+Then the waggoner had lost all his property, and he went downstairs
+into the room, sat down behind the stove and was quite furious and
+bitter. But the sparrow sat outside in front of the window, and cried,
+“Waggoner, it shall cost thee thy life.” Then the waggoner snatched the
+axe and threw it at the sparrow, but it only broke the window, and did
+not hit the bird. The sparrow now hopped in, placed itself on the stove
+and cried, “Waggoner, it shall cost thee thy life.” The latter, quite
+mad and blind with rage, smote the stove in twain, and as the sparrow
+flew from one place to another so it fared with all his household
+furniture, looking-glass, benches, table, and at last the walls of his
+house, and yet he could not hit the bird. At length, however, he caught
+it with his hand. Then his wife said, “Shall I kill it?” “No,” cried
+he, “that would be too merciful. It shall die much more cruelly,” and
+he took it and swallowed it whole. The sparrow, however, began to
+flutter about in his body, and fluttered up again into the man’s mouth;
+then it stretched out its head, and cried, “Waggoner, it shall still
+cost thee thy life.” The driver gave the axe to his wife, and said,
+“Wife, kill the bird in my mouth for me.” The woman struck, but missed
+her blow, and hit the waggoner right on his head, so that he fell dead.
+But the sparrow flew up and away.

content/library/grimm/059_frederick_and_catherine.txt

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+Frederick and Catherine
+
+There was once on a time a man who was called Frederick and a woman
+called Catherine, who had married each other and lived together as
+young married folks. One day Frederick said, “I will now go and plough,
+Catherine; when I come back, there must be some roast meat on the table
+for hunger, and a fresh draught for thirst.” “Just go, Frederick,”
+answered Kate, “just go, I will have all ready for you.” Therefore when
+dinner-time drew near she got a sausage out of the chimney, put it in
+the frying-pan, put some butter to it, and set it on the fire. The
+sausage began to fry and to hiss, Catherine stood beside it and held
+the handle of the pan, and had her own thoughts as she was doing it.
+Then it occurred to her, “While the sausage is getting done thou
+couldst go into the cellar and draw beer.” So she set the frying-pan
+safely on the fire, took a can, and went down into the cellar to draw
+beer. The beer ran into the can and Kate watched it, and then she
+thought, “Oh, dear! The dog upstairs is not fastened up, it might get
+the sausage out of the pan. Well thought of.” And in a trice she was up
+the cellar-steps again, but the Spitz had the sausage in its mouth
+already, and trailed it away on the ground. But Catherine, who was not
+idle, set out after it, and chased it a long way into the field; the
+dog, however, was swifter than Catherine and did not let the sausage
+journey easily, but skipped over the furrows with it. “What’s gone is
+gone!” said Kate, and turned round, and as she had run till she was
+weary, she walked quietly and comfortably, and cooled herself. During
+this time the beer was still running out of the cask, for Kate had not
+turned the tap. And when the can was full and there was no other place
+for it, it ran into the cellar and did not stop until the whole cask
+was empty. As soon as Kate was on the steps she saw the mischance.
+“Good gracious!” she cried. “What shall I do now to stop Frederick
+knowing it!” She thought for a while, and at last she remembered that
+up in the garret was still standing a sack of the finest wheat flour
+from the last fair, and she would fetch that down and strew it over the
+beer. “Yes,” said she, “he who saves a thing when he ought, has it
+afterwards when he needs it,” and she climbed up to the garret and
+carried the sack below, and threw it straight down on the can of beer,
+which she knocked over, and Frederick’s draught swam also in the
+cellar. “It is all right,” said Kate, “where the one is the other ought
+to be also,” and she strewed the meal over the whole cellar. When it
+was done she was heartily delighted with her work, and said, “How clean
+and wholesome it does look here!” At mid-day home came Frederick: “Now,
+wife, what have you ready for me?” “Ah, Freddy,” she answered, “I was
+frying a sausage for you, but whilst I was drawing the beer to drink
+with it, the dog took it away out of the pan, and whilst I was running
+after the dog, all the beer ran out, and whilst I was drying up the
+beer with the flour, I knocked over the can as well, but be easy, the
+cellar is quite dry again.” Said Frederick, “Kate, Kate, you should not
+have done that! to let the sausage be carried off and the beer run out
+of the cask, and throw out all our flour into the bargain!” “Indeed,
+Frederick, I did not know that, you should have told me.” The man
+thought, “If my wife is like this, I must look after things more.” Now
+he had got together a good number of thalers which he changed into
+gold, and said to Catherine, “Look, these are counters for playing
+games; I will put them in a pot and bury them in the stable under the
+cow’s manger, but mind you keep away from them, or it will be the worse
+for you.” Said she, “Oh, no, Frederick, I certainly will not go.” And
+when Frederick was gone some pedlars came into the village who had
+cheap earthen-bowls and pots, and asked the young woman if there was
+nothing she wanted to bargain with them for? “Oh, dear people,” said
+Catherine, “I have no money and can buy nothing, but if you have any
+use for yellow counters I will buy of you.” “Yellow counters, why not?
+But just let us see them.” “Then go into the stable and dig under the
+cow’s manger, and you will find the yellow counters. I am not allowed
+to go there.” The rogues went thither, dug and found pure gold. Then
+they laid hold of it, ran away, and left their pots and bowls behind in
+the house. Catherine thought she must use her new things, and as she
+had no lack in the kitchen already without these, she knocked the
+bottom out of every pot, and set them all as ornaments on the paling
+which went round about the house. When Frederick came and saw the new
+decorations, he said, “Catherine, what have you been about?” “I have
+bought them, Frederick, for the counters which were under the cow’s
+manger. I did not go there myself, the pedlars had to dig them out for
+themselves.” “Ah, wife,” said Frederick, “what have you done? Those
+were not counters, but pure gold, and all our wealth; you should not
+have done that.” “Indeed, Frederick,” said she, “I did not know that,
+you should have forewarned me.”
+
+Catherine stood for a while and bethought to herself; then she said,
+“Listen, Frederick, we will soon get the gold back again, we will run
+after the thieves.” “Come, then,” said Frederick, “we will try it; but
+take with you some butter and cheese that we may have something to eat
+on the way.” “Yes, Frederick, I will take them.” They set out, and as
+Frederick was the better walker, Catherine followed him. “It is to my
+advantage,” thought she, “when we turn back I shall be a little way in
+advance.” Then she came to a hill where there were deep ruts on both
+sides of the road. “There one can see,” said Catherine, “how they have
+torn and skinned and galled the poor earth, it will never be whole
+again as long as it lives,” and in her heart’s compassion she took her
+butter and smeared the ruts right and left, that they might not be so
+hurt by the wheels, and as she was thus bending down in her charity,
+one of the cheeses rolled out of her pocket down the hill. Said
+Catherine, “I have made my way once up here, I will not go down again;
+another may run and fetch it back.” So she took another cheese and
+rolled it down. But the cheeses did not come back, so she let a third
+run down, thinking. “Perhaps they are waiting for company, and do not
+like to walk alone.” As all three stayed away she said, “I do not know
+what that can mean, but it may perhaps be that the third has not found
+the way, and has gone wrong, I will just send the fourth to call it.”
+But the fourth did no better than the third. Then Catherine was angry,
+and threw down the fifth and sixth as well, and these were her last.
+She remained standing for some time watching for their coming, but when
+they still did not come, she said, “Oh, you are good folks to send in
+search of death, you stay a fine long time away! Do you think I will
+wait any longer for you? I shall go my way, you may run after me; you
+have younger legs than I.” Catherine went on and found Frederick, who
+was standing waiting for her because he wanted something to eat. “Now
+just let us have what you have brought with you,” said he. She gave him
+the dry bread. “Where have you the butter and the cheeses?” asked the
+man. “Ah, Freddy,” said Catherine, “I smeared the cart-ruts with the
+butter and the cheeses will come soon; one ran away from me, so I sent
+the others after to call it.” Said Frederick, “You should not have done
+that, Catherine, to smear the butter on the road, and let the cheeses
+run down the hill!” “Really, Frederick, you should have told me.” Then
+they ate the dry bread together, and Frederick said, “Catherine, did
+you make the house safe when you came away?” “No, Frederick, you should
+have told me to do it before.” “Then go home again, and make the house
+safe before we go any farther, and bring with you something else to
+eat. I will wait here for you.” Catherine went back and thought,
+“Frederick wants something more to eat, he does not like butter and
+cheese, so I will take with me a handkerchief full of dried pears and a
+pitcher of vinegar for him to drink.” Then she bolted the upper half of
+the door fast, but unhinged the lower door, and took it on her back,
+believing that when she had placed the door in security the house must
+be well taken care of. Catherine took her time on the way, and thought,
+“Frederick will rest himself so much the longer.” When she had once
+reached him she said, “Here is the house-door for you, Frederick, and
+now you can take care of the house yourself.” “Oh, heavens,” said he,
+“what a wise wife I have! She takes the under-door off the hinges that
+everything may run in, and bolts the upper one. It is now too late to
+go back home again, but since you have brought the door here, you shall
+just carry it farther.” “I will carry the door, Frederick, but the
+dried pears and the vinegar-jug will be too heavy for me, I will hang
+them on the door, it may carry them.”
+
+And now they went into the forest, and sought the rogues, but did not
+find them. At length as it grew dark they climbed into a tree and
+resolved to spend the night there. Scarcely, however, had they sat down
+at the top of it than the rascals came thither who carry away with them
+what does not want to go, and find things before they are lost. They
+sat down under the very tree in which Frederick and Catherine were
+sitting, lighted a fire, and were about to share their booty. Frederick
+got down on the other side and collected some stones together. Then he
+climbed up again with them, and wished to throw them at the thieves and
+kill them. The stones, however, did not hit them, and the knaves cried,
+“It will soon be morning, the wind is shaking down the fir-apples.”
+Catherine still had the door on her back, and as it pressed so heavily
+on her, she thought it was the fault of the dried pears, and said,
+“Frederick, I must throw the pears down.” “No, Catherine, not now,” he
+replied, “they might betray us.” “Oh, but, Frederick, I must! They
+weigh me down far too much.” “Do it, then, and be hanged!” Then the
+dried pears rolled down between the branches, and the rascals below
+said, “The leaves are falling.”
+
+A short time afterwards, as the door was still heavy, Catherine said,
+“Ah, Frederick, I must pour out the vinegar.” “No, Catherine, you must
+not, it might betray us.” “Ah, but, Frederick, I must, it weighs me
+down far too much.” “Then do it and be hanged!” So she emptied out the
+vinegar, and it besprinkled the robbers. They said amongst themselves,
+“The dew is already falling.” At length Catherine thought, “Can it
+really be the door which weighs me down so?” and said, “Frederick, I
+must throw the door down.” “No, not now, Catherine, it might discover
+us.” “Oh, but, Frederick, I must. It weighs me down far too much.” “Oh,
+no, Catherine, do hold it fast.” “Ah, Frederick, I am letting it fall!”
+“Let it go, then, in the devil’s name.” Then it fell down with a
+violent clatter, and the rascals below cried, “The devil is coming down
+the tree!” and they ran away and left everything behind them. Early
+next morning, when the two came down they found all their gold again,
+and carried it home.
+
+When they were once more at home, Frederick said, “And now, Catherine,
+you, too, must be industrious and work.” “Yes, Frederick, I will soon
+do that, I will go into the field and cut corn.” When Catherine got
+into the field, she said to herself, “Shall I eat before I cut, or
+shall I sleep before I cut? Oh, I will eat first.” Then Catherine ate
+and eating made her sleepy, and she began to cut, and half in a dream
+cut all her clothes to pieces, her apron, her gown, and her shift. When
+Catherine awoke again after a long sleep she was standing there
+half-naked, and said to herself, “Is it I, or is it not I? Alas, it is
+not I.” In the meantime night came, and Catherine ran into the village,
+knocked at her husband’s window, and cried, “Frederick.”
+
+“What is the matter?” “I should very much like to know if Catherine is
+in?” “Yes, yes,” replied Frederick, “she must be in and asleep.”
+
+Said she, “’Tis well, then I am certainly at home already,” and ran
+away.
+
+Outside Catherine found some vagabonds who were going to steal. Then
+she went to them and said, “I will help you to steal.” The rascals
+thought that she knew the situation of the place, and were willing.
+Catherine went in front of the houses, and cried, “Good folks, have you
+anything? We want to steal.” The thieves thought to themselves, “That’s
+a fine way of doing things,” and wished themselves once more rid of
+Catherine. Then they said to her, “Outside the village the pastor has
+some turnips in the field. Go there and pull up some turnips for us.”
+Catherine went to the ground, and began to pull them up, but was so
+idle that she did not gather them together. Then a man came by, saw
+her, and stood still and thought that it was the devil who was thus
+rooting amongst the turnips. He ran away into the village to the
+pastor, and said, “Mr. Pastor, the devil is in your turnip-ground,
+rooting up turnips.” “Ah, heavens,” answered the pastor, “I have a lame
+foot, I cannot go out and drive him away.” Said the man, “Then I will
+carry you on my back,” and he carried him out on his back. And when
+they came to the ground, Catherine arose and stood up her full height.
+“Ah, the devil!” cried the pastor, and both hurried away, and in his
+great fright the pastor could run better with his lame foot than the
+man who had carried him on his back could do with his sound one.

content/library/grimm/060_the_two_brothers.txt

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+The Two Brothers
+
+There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other poor.
+The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The poor one supported
+himself by making brooms, and was good and honourable. The poor one had
+two children, who were twin brothers and as like each other as two
+drops of water. The two boys went backwards and forwards to the rich
+house, and often got some of the scraps to eat. It happened once when
+the poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood, that he saw
+a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any he had ever
+chanced to meet with. He picked up a small stone, threw it at him, and
+was lucky enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell down, and
+the bird flew away. The man took the feather and carried it to his
+brother, who looked at it and said, “It is pure gold!” and gave him a
+great deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into a birch-tree,
+and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the same bird flew
+out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an egg lay inside
+it, which was of gold. He took the egg home with him, and carried it to
+his brother, who again said, “It is pure gold,” and gave him what it
+was worth. At last the goldsmith said, “I should indeed like to have
+the bird itself.” The poor man went into the forest for the third time,
+and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree, so he took a stone
+and brought it down and carried it to his brother, who gave him a great
+heap of gold for it. “Now I can get on,” thought he, and went
+contentedly home.
+
+The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what kind of a
+bird it was. He called his wife and said, “Roast me the gold bird, and
+take care that none of it is lost. I have a fancy to eat it all
+myself.” The bird, however, was no common one, but of so wondrous a
+kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver found every morning a piece
+of gold beneath his pillow. The woman made the bird ready, put it on
+the spit, and let it roast. Now it happened that while it was at the
+fire, and the woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on account of
+some other work, the two children of the poor broom-maker ran in, stood
+by the spit and turned it round once or twice. And as at that very
+moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the dripping-tin, one
+of the boys said, “We will eat these two little bits; I am so hungry,
+and no one will ever miss them.” Then the two ate the pieces, but the
+woman came into the kitchen and saw that they were eating something and
+said, “What have ye been eating?” “Two little morsels which fell out of
+the bird,” answered they. “That must have been the heart and the
+liver,” said the woman, quite frightened, and in order that her husband
+might not miss them and be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took
+out his heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird. When it
+was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who consumed it all alone,
+and left none of it. Next morning, however, when he felt beneath his
+pillow, and expected to bring out the piece of gold, no more gold
+pieces were there than there had always been.
+
+The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune had fallen
+to their lot. Next morning when they arose, something fell rattling to
+the ground, and when they picked it up there were two gold pieces! They
+took them to their father, who was astonished and said, “How can that
+have happened?” When next morning they again found two, and so on
+daily, he went to his brother and told him the strange story. The
+goldsmith at once knew how it had come to pass, and that the children
+had eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to
+revenge himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said
+to the father, “Thy children are in league with the Evil One, do not
+take the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in thy house,
+for he has them in his power, and may ruin thee likewise.” The father
+feared the Evil One, and painful as it was to him, he nevertheless led
+the twins forth into the forest, and with a sad heart left them there.
+
+And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the way home
+again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves more and more.
+At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, “To whom do you children
+belong?” “We are the poor broom-maker’s boys,” they replied, and they
+told him that their father would not keep them any longer in the house
+because a piece of gold lay every morning under their pillows. “Come,”
+said the huntsman, “that is nothing so very bad, if at the same time
+you keep honest, and are not idle.” As the good man liked the children,
+and had none of his own, he took them home with him and said, “I will
+be your father, and bring you up till you are big.” They learnt
+huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which each of them found
+when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case they should need it in
+the future.
+
+When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took them into the
+forest with him, and said, “To-day shall you make your trial shot, so
+that I may release you from your apprenticeship, and make you
+huntsmen.” They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a long
+time, but no game appeared. The huntsman, however, looked above him and
+saw a covey of wild geese flying in the form of a triangle, and said to
+one of them, “Shoot me down one from each corner.” He did it, and thus
+accomplished his trial shot. Soon after another covey came flying by in
+the form of the figure two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring
+down one from each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful.
+“Now,” said the foster-father, “I pronounce you out of your
+apprenticeship; you are skilled huntsmen.” Thereupon the two brothers
+went forth together into the forest, and took counsel with each other
+and planned something. And in the evening when they had sat down to
+supper, they said to their foster-father, “We will not touch food, or
+take one mouthful, until you have granted us a request.” Said he,
+“What, then, is your request?” They replied, “We have now finished
+learning, and we must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go
+away and travel.” Then spake the old man joyfully, “You talk like brave
+huntsmen, that which you desire has been my wish; go forth, all will go
+well with you.” Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together.
+
+When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented each of them
+with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them take as many of his
+saved-up gold pieces as he chose. Then he accompanied them a part of
+the way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright knife, and said,
+“If ever you separate, stick this knife into a tree at the place where
+you part, and when one of you goes back, he will will be able to see
+how his absent brother is faring, for the side of the knife which is
+turned in the direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but
+will remain bright as long as he is alive.” The two brothers went still
+farther onwards, and came to a forest which was so large that it was
+impossible for them to get out of it in one day. So they passed the
+night in it, and ate what they had put in their hunting-pouches, but
+they walked all the second day likewise, and still did not get out. As
+they had nothing to eat, one of them said, “We must shoot something for
+ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger,” and loaded his gun, and
+looked about him. And when an old hare came running up towards them, he
+laid his gun on his shoulder, but the hare cried,
+
+“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
+Two little ones to thee I’ll give,”
+
+
+and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two young ones. But
+the little creatures played so merrily, and were so pretty, that the
+huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to kill them. They therefore
+kept them with them, and the little hares followed on foot. Soon after
+this, a fox crept past; they were just going to shoot it, but the fox
+cried,
+
+“Dear hunstman, do but let me live,
+Two little ones I’ll also give.”
+
+
+He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did not like to
+kill them either, but gave them to the hares for company, and they
+followed behind. It was not long before a wolf strode out of the
+thicket; the huntsmen made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried,
+
+“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
+Two little ones I’ll likewise give.”
+
+
+The huntsmen put the two wolves beside the other animals, and they
+followed behind them. Then a bear came who wanted to trot about a
+little longer, and cried:
+
+“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
+Two little ones I, too, will give.”
+
+
+The two young bears were added to the others, and there were already
+eight of them. At length who came? A lion came, and tossed his mane.
+But the huntsmen did not let themselves be frightened and aimed at him
+likewise, but the lion also said,
+
+“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
+Two little ones I, too, will give.”
+
+
+And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen had two
+lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares, who followed
+them and served them. In thu meantime their hunger was not appeased by
+this, and they said to the foxes, “Hark ye, cunning fellows, provide us
+with something to eat. You are crafty and deep.” They replied, “Not far
+from here lies a village, from which we have already brought many a
+fowl; we will show you the way there.” So they went into the village,
+bought themselves something to eat, had some food given to their
+beasts, and then travelled onwards. The foxes, however, knew their way
+very well about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and were
+able to guide the huntsmen.
+
+Now they travelled about for a while, but could find no situations
+where they could remain together, so they said, “There is nothing else
+for it, we must part.” They divided the animals, so that each of them
+had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave of
+each other, promised to love each other like brothers till their death,
+and stuck the knife which their foster-father had given them, into a
+tree, after which one went east, and the other went west.
+
+The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which was all
+hung with black crape. He went into an inn, and asked the host if he
+could accommodate his animals. The innkeeper gave him a stable, where
+there was a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out and fetched
+himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox fetched himself a hen, and
+when he had devoured that got the cock as well, but the wolf, the bear,
+and the lion could not get out because they were too big. Then the
+innkeeper let them be taken to a place where a cow was just then lying
+on the grass, that they might eat till they were satisfied. And when
+the huntsman had taken care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why
+the town was thus hung with black crape? Said the host, “Because our
+King’s only daughter is to die to-morrow.” The huntsman inquired if she
+was “sick unto death?” “No,” answered the host, “she is vigorous and
+healthy, nevertheless she must die!” “How is that?” asked the huntsman.
+“There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a dragon who
+every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the whole country waste,
+and now all the maidens have already been given to him, and there is no
+longer anyone left but the King’s daughter, yet there is no mercy for
+her; she must be given up to him, and that is to be done to-morrow.”
+Said the huntsman, “Why is the dragon not killed?” “Ah,” replied the
+host, “so many knights have tried it, but it has cost all of them their
+lives. The King has promised that he who conquers the dragon shall have
+his daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern the kingdom after his
+own death.”
+
+The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took his
+animals, and with them ascended the dragon’s hill. A little church
+stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups were standing,
+with the inscription, “Whosoever empties the cups will become the
+strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the sword which is
+buried before the threshold of the door.” The huntsman did not drink,
+but went out and sought for the sword in the ground, but was unable to
+move it from its place. Then he went in and emptied the cups, and now
+he was strong enough to take up the sword, and his hand could quite
+easily wield it. When the hour came when the maiden was to be delivered
+over to the dragon, the King, the marshal, and courtiers accompanied
+her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the dragon’s hill, and thought
+it was the dragon standing there waiting for her, and did not want to
+go up to him, but at last, because otherwise the whole town would have
+been destroyed, she was forced to go the miserable journey. The King
+and courtiers returned home full of grief; the King’s marshal, however,
+was to stand still, and see all from a distance.
+
+When the King’s daughter got to the top of the hill, it was not the
+dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who comforted her,
+and said he would save her, led her into the church, and locked her in.
+It was not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither with loud
+roaring. When he perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and said,
+“What business hast thou here on the hill?” The huntsman answered, “I
+want to fight with thee.” Said the dragon, “Many knights have left
+their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of thee too,” and he
+breathed fire out of seven jaws. The fire was to have lighted the dry
+grass, and the huntsman was to have been suffocated in the heat and
+smoke, but the animals came running up and trampled out the fire. Then
+the dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it
+sang through the air, and struck off three of his heads. Then the
+dragon grew right furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames
+of fire over the huntsman, and was about to plunge down on him, but the
+huntsman once more drew out his sword, and again cut off three of his
+heads. The monster became faint and sank down, nevertheless it was just
+able to rush upon the huntsman, but he with his last strength smote its
+tail off, and as he could fight no longer, called up his animals who
+tore it in pieces. When the struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked
+the church, and found the King’s daughter lying on the floor, as she
+had lost her senses with anguish and terror during the contest. He
+carried her out, and when she came to herself once more, and opened her
+eyes, he showed her the dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she
+was now delivered. She rejoiced and said, “Now thou wilt be my dearest
+husband, for my father has promised me to him who kills the dragon.”
+Thereupon she took off her necklace of coral, and divided it amongst
+the animals in order to reward them, and the lion received the golden
+clasp. Her pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she
+gave to the huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragon’s
+seven heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved them
+carefully.
+
+That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the battle,
+he said to the maiden, “We are both faint and weary, we will sleep
+awhile.” Then she said, “yes,” and they lay down on the ground, and the
+huntsman said to the lion, “Thou shalt keep watch, that no one
+surprises us in our sleep,” and both fell asleep. The lion lay down
+beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the fight, that he
+called to the bear and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little:
+if anything comes, waken me.” Then the bear lay down beside him, but he
+also was tired, and called the wolf and said, “Lie down by me, I must
+sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me.” Then the wolf lay
+down by him, but he was tired likewise, and called the fox and said,
+“Lie down by me, I must sleep a little; if anything comes, waken me.”
+Then the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called the
+hare and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little, and if
+anything should come, waken me.” Then the hare sat down by him, but the
+poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he could call there to
+keep watch, and fell asleep. And now the King’s daughter, the huntsman,
+the lion, the bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare, were all sleeping
+a sound sleep. The marshal, however, who was to look on from a
+distance, took courage when he did not see the dragon flying away with
+the maiden, and finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended
+it. There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground, and
+not far from it were the King’s daughter and a huntsman with his
+animals, and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep. And as he was
+wicked and godless he took his sword, cut off the huntsman’s head, and
+seized the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill. Then she
+awoke and was terrified, but the marshal said, “Thou art in my hands,
+thou shalt say that it was I who killed the dragon.” “I cannot do
+that,” she replied, “for it was a huntsman with his animals who did
+it.” Then he drew his sword, and threatened to kill her if she did not
+obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it. Then he took her
+to the King, who did not know how to contain himself for joy when he
+once more looked on his dear child in life, whom he had believed to
+have been torn to pieces by the monster. The marshal said to him, “I
+have killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and the whole kingdom
+as well, therefore I demand her as my wife, as was promised.” The King
+said to the maiden, “Is what he says true?” “Ah, yes,” she answered,
+“it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the wedding
+celebrated until after a year and a day,” for she thought in that time
+she should hear something of her dear huntsman.
+
+The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their dead
+master on the dragon’s hill, and there came a great humble-bee and
+lighted on the hare’s nose, but the hare wiped it off with his paw, and
+went on sleeping. The humble-bee came a second time, but the hare again
+rubbed it off and slept on. Then it came for the third time, and stung
+his nose so that he awoke. As soon as the hare was awake, he roused the
+fox, and the fox, the wolf, and the wolf the bear, and the bear the
+lion. And when the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his
+master was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried, “Who has done
+that? Bear, why didst thou not waken me?” The bear asked the wolf, “Why
+didst thou not waken me?” and the wolf the fox, “Why didst thou not
+waken me?” and the fox the hare, “Why didst thou not waken me?” The
+poor hare alone did not know what answer to make, and the blame rested
+with him. Then they were just going to fall upon him, but he entreated
+them and said, “Kill me not, I will bring our master to life again. I
+know a mountain on which a root grows which, when placed in the mouth
+of any one, cures him of all illness and every wound. But the mountain
+lies two hundred hours journey from here.” The lion said, “In
+four-and-twenty hours must thou have run thither and have come back,
+and have brought the root with thee.” Then the hare sprang away, and in
+four-and-twenty hours he was back, and brought the root with him. The
+lion put the huntsman’s head on again, and the hare placed the root in
+his mouth, and immediately everything united together again, and his
+heart beat, and life came back. Then the huntsman awoke, and was
+alarmed when he did not see the maiden, and thought, “She must have
+gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me.” The lion
+in his great haste had put his master’s head on the wrong way round,
+but the huntsman did not observe it because of his melancholy thoughts
+about the King’s daughter. But at noon, when he was going to eat
+something, he saw that his head was turned backwards and could not
+understand it, and asked the animals what had happened to him in his
+sleep. Then the lion told him that they, too, had all fallen asleep
+from weariness, and on awaking, had found him dead with his head cut
+off, that the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in
+his haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but that he would
+repair his mistake. Then he tore the huntsman’s head off again, turned
+it round, and the hare healed it with the root.
+
+The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and travelled about the world,
+and made his animals dance before people. It came to pass that
+precisely at the end of one year he came back to the same town where he
+had delivered the King’s daughter from the dragon, and this time the
+town was gaily hung with red cloth. Then he said to the host, “What
+does this mean? Last year the town was all hung with black crape, what
+means the red cloth to-day?” The host answered, “Last year our King’s
+daughter was to have been delivered over to the dragon, but the marshal
+fought with it and killed it, and so to-morrow their wedding is to be
+solemnized, and that is why the town was then hung with black crape for
+mourning, and is to-day covered with red cloth for joy?”
+
+Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman said at
+mid-day to the inn-keeper, “Do you believe, sir host, that I while with
+you here to-day shall eat bread from the King’s own table?” “Nay,” said
+the host, “I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that will not come
+true.” The huntsman accepted the wager, and set against it a purse with
+just the same number of gold pieces. Then he called the hare and said,
+“Go, my dear runner, and fetch me some of the bread which the King is
+eating.” Now the little hare was the lowest of the animals, and could
+not transfer this order to any the others, but had to get on his legs
+himself. “Alas!” thought he, “if I bound through the streets thus
+alone, the butchers’ dogs will all be after me.” It happened as he
+expected, and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in his
+good skin. But he sprang away, have you have never seen one running?
+and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier being aware
+of it. Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out, but the soldier
+did not understand a jest, and struck them with the butt-end of his
+gun, till they ran away yelling and howling. As soon as the hare saw
+that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and straight to the
+King’s daughter, sat down under her chair, and scratched at her foot.
+Then she said, “Wilt thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. The
+hare scratched her foot for the second time, and she again said, “Wilt
+thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. But the hare did not let
+itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched her for the third
+time. Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by its collar. She took
+him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and said, “Dear Hare,
+what dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon,
+is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread like that which the
+King eats.” Then she was full of joy and had the baker summoned, and
+ordered him to bring a loaf such as was eaten by the King. The little
+hare said, “But the baker must likewise carry it thither for me, that
+the butchers’ dogs may do no harm to me.” The baker carried if for him
+as far as the door of the inn, and then the hare got on his hind legs,
+took the loaf in his front paws, and carried it to his master. Then
+said the huntsman, “Behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold are
+mine.” The host was astonished, but the huntsman went on to say, “Yes,
+sir host, I have the bread, but now I will likewise have some of the
+King’s roast meat.”
+
+The host said, “I should indeed like to see that,” but he would make no
+more wagers. The huntsman called the fox and said, “My little fox, go
+and fetch me some roast meat, such as the King eats.” The red fox knew
+the bye-ways better, and went by holes and corners without any dog
+seeing him, seated himself under the chair of the King’s daughter, and
+scratched her foot. Then she looked down and recognized the fox by its
+collar, took him into her chamber with her and said, “Dear fox, what
+dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is
+here, and has sent me. I am to ask for some roast meat such as the King
+is eating.” Then she made the cook come, who was obliged to prepare a
+roast joint, the same as was eaten by the King, and to carry it for the
+fox as far as the door. Then the fox took the dish, waved away with his
+tail the flies which had settled on the meat, and then carried it to
+his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “bread and meat are
+here but now I will also have proper vegetables with it, such as are
+eaten by the King.” Then he called the wolf, and said, “Dear Wolf, go
+thither and fetch me vegetables such as the King eats.” Then the wolf
+went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and when he got to
+the King’s daughter’s chamber, he twitched at the back of her dress, so
+that she was forced to look round. She recognized him by his collar,
+and took him into her chamber with her, and said, “Dear Wolf, what dost
+thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, I
+am to ask for some vegetables, such as the King eats.” Then she made
+the cook come, and he had to make ready a dish of vegetables, such as
+the King ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and
+then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his master.
+“Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “now I have bread and meat and
+vegetables, but I will also have some pastry to eat like that which the
+King eats.” He called the bear, and said, “Dear Bear, thou art fond of
+licking anything sweet; go and bring me some confectionery, such as the
+King eats.” Then the bear trotted to the palace, and every one got out
+of his way, but when he went to the guard, they presented their
+muskets, and would not let him go into the royal palace. But he got up
+on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears, right and
+left, with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up, and then he went
+straight to the King’s daughter, placed himself behind her, and growled
+a little. Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and bade him go
+into her room with her, and said, “Dear Bear, what dost thou want?” He
+answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask
+for some confectionery, such as the King eats.” Then she summoned her
+confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the King ate, and
+carry it to the door for the bear; then the bear first licked up the
+comfits which had rolled down, and then he stood upright, took the
+dish, and carried it to his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the
+huntsman, “now I have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery, but I
+will drink wine also, and such as the King drinks.” He called his lion
+to him and said, “Dear Lion, thou thyself likest to drink till thou art
+intoxicated, go and fetch me some wine, such as is drunk by the King.”
+Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled from him,
+and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way against him,
+but he did but roar once, and they all ran away. Then the lion went to
+the royal apartment, and knocked at the door with his tail. Then the
+King’s daughter came forth, and was almost afraid of the lion, but she
+knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace, and bade him go with her
+into her chamber, and said, “Dear Lion, what wilt thou have?” He
+answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask
+for some wine such as is drunk by the King.” Then she bade the
+cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine like that
+which was drunk by the King. The lion said, “I will go with him, and
+see that I get the right wine.” Then he went down with the cup-bearer,
+and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted to draw him some of the
+common wine that was drunk by the King’s servants, but the lion said,
+“Stop, I will taste the wine first,” and he drew half a measure, and
+swallowed it down at one draught. “No,” said he, “that is not right.”
+The cup-bearer looked at him askance, but went on, and was about to
+give him some out of another barrel which was for the King’s marshal.
+The lion said, “Stop, let me taste the wine first,” and drew half a
+measure and drank it. “That is better, but still not right,” said he.
+Then the cup-bearer grew angry and said, “How can a stupid animal like
+you understand wine?” But the lion gave him a blow behind the ears,
+which made him fall down by no means gently, and when he had got up
+again, he conducted the lion quite silently into a little cellar apart,
+where the King’s wine lay, from which no one ever drank. The lion first
+drew half a measure and tried the wine, and then he said, That may
+possibly be the right sort, and bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of
+it. And now they went upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the
+cellar into the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather
+drunk, and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the
+door for him, and then the lion took the handle of the basket in his
+mouth, and took it to his master. The huntsman said, “Behold, sir host,
+here have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as the
+King has, and now I will dine with my animals,” and he sat down and ate
+and drank, and gave the hare, the fox, the wolf, the bear, and the lion
+also to eat and to drink, and was joyful, for he saw that the King’s
+daughter still loved him. And when he had finished his dinner, he said,
+“Sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the King eats and drinks, and
+now I will go to the King’s court and marry the King’s daughter.” Said
+the host, “How can that be, when she already has a betrothed husband,
+and when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day?” Then the huntsman
+drew forth the handkerchief which the King’s daughter had given him on
+the dragon’s hill, and in which were folded the monster’s seven
+tongues, and said, “That which I hold in my hand shall help me to do
+it.” Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and said, “Whatever
+I believe, I do not believe that, and I am willing to stake my house
+and courtyard on it.” The huntsman, however, took a bag with a thousand
+gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, “I stake that on it.”
+
+Now the King said to his daughter, at the royal table, “What did all
+the wild animals want, which have been coming to thee, and going in and
+out of my palace?” She replied, “I may not tell you, but send and have
+the master of these animals brought, and you will do well.” The King
+sent a servant to the inn, and invited the stranger, and the servant
+came just as the huntsman had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then
+said he, “Behold, sir host, now the King sends his servant and invites
+me, but I do not go in this way.” And he said to the servant, “I
+request the Lord King to send me royal clothing, and a carriage with
+six horses, and servants to attend me.” When the King heard the answer,
+he said to his daughter, “What shall I do?” She said, “Cause him to be
+fetched as he desires to be, and you will do well.” Then the King sent
+royal apparel, a carriage with six horses, and servants to wait on him.
+When the huntsman saw them coming, he said, “Behold, sir host, now I am
+fetched as I desired to be,” and he put on the royal garments, took the
+handkerchief with the dragon’s tongues with him, and drove off to the
+King. When the King saw him coming, he said to his daughter, “How shall
+I receive him?” She answered, “Go to meet him and you will do well.”
+Then the King went to meet him and led him in, and his animals
+followed. The King gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and
+the marshal, as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew
+the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven heads of the
+dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and the King said, “The seven
+heads were cut off the dragon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give
+him my daughter to wife.” The the huntsman stood up, opened the seven
+mouths, and said, “Where are the seven tongues of the dragon?” Then was
+the marshal terrified, and grew pale and knew not what answer he should
+make, and at length in his anguish he said, “Dragons have no tongues.”
+The huntsman said, “Liars ought to have none, but the dragon’s tongues
+are the tokens of the victor,” and he unfolded the handkerchief, and
+there lay all seven inside it. And he put each tongue in the mouth to
+which it belonged, and it fitted exactly. Then he took the handkerchief
+on which the name of the princess was embroidered, and showed it to the
+maiden, and asked to whom she had given it, and she replied, “To him
+who killed the dragon.” And then he called his animals, and took the
+collar off each of them and the golden clasp from the lion, and showed
+them to the maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered, “The
+necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided them among the
+animals who helped to conquer the dragon.” Then spake the huntsman,
+“When I, tired with the fight, was resting and sleeping, the marshal
+came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the King’s daughter, and
+gave out that it was he who had killed the dragon, but that he lied I
+prove with the tongues, the handkerchief, and the necklace.” And then
+he related how his animals had healed him by means of a wonderful root,
+and how he had travelled about with them for one year, and had at
+length again come there and had learnt the treachery of the marshal by
+the inn-keeper’s story. Then the King asked his daughter, “Is it true
+that this man killed the dragon?” And she answered, “Yes, it is true.
+Now can I reveal the wicked deed of the marshal, as it has come to
+light without my connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be
+silent. For this reason, however, did I make the condition that the
+marriage should not be solemnized for a year and a day.” Then the King
+bade twelve councillors be summoned who were to pronounce judgment on
+the marshal, and they sentenced him to be torn to pieces by four bulls.
+The marshal was therefore executed, but the King gave his daughter to
+the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the whole kingdom. The
+wedding was celebrated with great joy, and the young King caused his
+father and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them with
+treasures. Neither did he forget the inn-keeper, but sent for him and
+said, “Behold, sir host, I have married the King’s daughter, and your
+house and yard are mine.” The host said, “Yes, according to justice it
+is so.” But the young King said, “It shall be done according to mercy,”
+and told him that he should keep his house and yard, and gave him the
+thousand pieces of gold as well.
+
+And now the young King and Queen were thoroughly happy, and lived in
+gladness together. He often went out hunting because it was a delight
+to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany him. In the
+neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which it was reported that
+it was haunted, and that whosoever did but enter it did not easily get
+out again. The young King, however, had a great inclination to hunt in
+it, and let the old King have no peace until he allowed him to do so.
+So he rode forth with a great following, and when he came to the
+forest, he saw a snow-white hart and said to his people, “Wait here
+until I return, I want to chase that beautiful creature,” and he rode
+into the forest after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants
+halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so they rode
+home, and told the young Queen that the young King had followed a white
+hart into the enchanted forest, and had not come back again. Then she
+was in the greatest concern about him. He, however, had still continued
+to ride on and on after the beautiful wild animal, and had never been
+able to overtake it; when he thought he was near enough to aim, he
+instantly saw it bound away into the far distance, and at length it
+vanished altogether. And now he perceived that he had penetrated deep
+into the forest, and blew his horn but he received no answer, for his
+attendants could not hear it. And as night, too, was falling, he saw
+that he could not get home that day, so he dismounted from his horse,
+lighted himself a fire near a tree, and resolved to spend the night by
+it. While he was sitting by the fire, and his animals also were lying
+down beside him, it seemed to him that he heard a human voice. He
+looked round, but could perceived nothing. Soon afterwards, he again
+heard a groan as if from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old
+woman sitting in the tree, who wailed unceasingly, “Oh, oh, oh, how
+cold I am!” Said he, “Come down, and warm thyself if thou art cold.”
+But she said, “No, thy animals will bite me.” He answered, “They will
+do thee no harm, old mother, do come down.” She, however, was a witch,
+and said, “I will throw down a wand from the tree, and if thou strikest
+them on the back with it, they will do me no harm.” Then she threw him
+a small wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they lay still
+and were turned into stone. And when the witch was safe from the
+animals, she leapt down and touched him also with a wand, and changed
+him to stone. Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the animals
+into a vault, where many more such stones already lay.
+
+As, however, the young King did not come back at all, the Queen’s
+anguish and care grew constantly greater. And it so happened that at
+this very time the other brother who had turned to the east when they
+separated, came into the kingdom. He had sought a situation, and had
+found none, and had then travelled about here and there, and had made
+his animals dance. Then it came into his mind that he would just go and
+look at the knife that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at their
+parting, that he might learn how his brother was. When he got there his
+brother’s side of the knife was half rusted, and half bright. Then he
+was alarmed and thought, “A great misfortune must have befallen my
+brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the knife is still
+bright.” He and his animals travelled towards the west, and when he
+entered the gate of the town, the guard came to meet him, and asked if
+he was to announce him to his consort the young Queen, who had for a
+couple of days been in the greatest sorrow about his staying away, and
+was afraid he had been killed in the enchanted forest? The sentries,
+indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was the young King himself,
+for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running behind him.
+Then he saw that they were speaking of his brother, and thought, “It
+will be better if I pass myself off for him, and then I can rescue him
+more easily.” So he allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by
+the guard, and was received with the greatest joy. The young Queen
+indeed thought that he was her husband, and asked him why he had stayed
+away so long. He answered, “I had lost myself in a forest, and could
+not find my way out again any sooner.” At night he was taken to the
+royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between him and the young
+Queen; she did not know what that could mean, but did not venture to
+ask.
+
+He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the meantime
+inquired into everything which related to the enchanted forest, and at
+last he said, “I must hunt there once more.” The King and the young
+Queen wanted to persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against
+them, and went forth with a larger following. When he had got into the
+forest, it fared with him as with his brother; he saw a white hart and
+said to his people, “Stay here, and wait until I return, I want to
+chase the lovely wild beast,” and then he rode into the forest and his
+animals ran after him. But he could not overtake the hart, and got so
+deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night there. And
+when he had lighted a fire, he heard some one wailing above him, “Oh,
+oh, oh, how cold I am!” Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was
+sitting in the tree. Said he, “If thou art cold, come down, little old
+mother, and warm thyself.” She answered, “No, thy animals will bite
+me.” But he said, “They will not hurt thee.” Then she cried, “I will
+throw down a wand to thee, and if thou smitest them with it they will
+do me no harm.” When the huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in
+the old woman, and said, “I will not strike my animals. Come down, or I
+will fetch thee.” Then she cried, “What dost thou want? Thou shalt not
+touch me.” But he replied, “If thou dost not come, I will shoot thee.”
+Said she, “Shoot away, I do not fear thy bullets!” Then he aimed, and
+fired at her, but the witch was proof against all leaden bullets, and
+laughed, and yelled and cried, “Thou shalt not hit me.” The huntsman
+knew what to do, tore three silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his
+gun with them, for against them her arts were useless, and when he
+fired she fell down at once with a scream. Then he set his foot on her
+and said, Old witch, if thou dost not instantly confess where my
+brother is, I will seize thee with both my hands and throw thee into
+the fire. She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and said, He and
+his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone. Then he compelled her to
+go thither with him, threatened her, and said, Old sea-cat, now shalt
+thou make my brother and all the human beings lying here, alive again,
+or thou shalt go into the fire! She took a wand and touched the stones,
+and then his brother with his animals came to life again, and many
+others, merchants, artizans, and shepherds, arose, thanked him for
+their deliverance, and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers
+saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced with all
+their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound her and laid her on the
+fire, and when she was burnt the forest opened of its own accord, and
+was light and clear, and the King’s palace could be seen at about the
+distance of a three hours walk.
+
+Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way told each
+other their histories. And when the youngest said that he was ruler of
+the whole country in the King’s stead, the other observed, “That I
+remarked very well, for when I came to the town, and was taken for
+thee, all royal honours were paid me; the young Queen looked on me as
+her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep in thy bed.” When
+the other heard that, he became so jealous and angry that he drew his
+sword, and struck off his brother’s head. But when he saw him lying
+there dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most violently:
+“My brother delivered me,” cried he, “and I have killed him for it,”
+and he bewailed him aloud. Then his hare came and offered to go and
+bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought it while
+yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to life again, and
+knew nothing about the wound.
+
+After this they journeyed onwards, and the youngest said, “Thou lookest
+like me, hast royal apparel on as I have, and the animals follow thee
+as they do me; we will go in by opposite gates, and arrive at the same
+time from the two sides in the aged King’s presence.” So they
+separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from the one door and
+from the other, and announced that the young King and the animals had
+returned from the chase. The King said, “It is not possible, the gates
+lie quite a mile apart.” In the meantime, however, the two brothers
+entered the courtyard of the palace from opposite sides, and both
+mounted the steps. Then the King said to the daughter, “Say which is
+thy husband. Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell.”
+Then she was in great distress, and could not tell; but at last she
+remembered the necklace which she had given to the animals, and she
+sought for and found her little golden clasp on the lion, and she cried
+in her delight, “He who is followed by this lion is my true husband”.
+Then the young King laughed and said, “Yes, he is the right one,” and
+they sat down together to table, and ate and drank, and were merry. At
+night when the young King went to bed, his wife said, “Why hast thou
+for these last nights always laid a two-edged sword in our bed? I
+thought thou hadst a wish to kill me.” Then he knew how true his
+brother had been.

content/library/grimm/061_the_little_peasant.txt

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+The Little Peasant
+
+There was a certain village wherein no one lived but really rich
+peasants, and just one poor one, whom they called the little peasant.
+He had not even so much as a cow, and still less money to buy one, and
+yet he and his wife did so wish to have one. One day he said to her,
+“Hark you, I have a good thought, there is our gossip the carpenter, he
+shall make us a wooden calf, and paint it brown, so that it look like
+any other, and in time it will certainly get big and be a cow.” The
+woman also liked the idea, and their gossip the carpenter cut and
+planed the calf, and painted it as it ought to be, and made it with its
+head hanging down as if it were eating.
+
+Next morning when the cows were being driven out, the little peasant
+called the cow-herd and said, “Look, I have a little calf there, but it
+is still small and has still to be carried.” The cow-herd said, “All
+right, and took it in his arms and carried it to the pasture, and set
+it among the grass.” The little calf always remained standing like one
+which was eating, and the cow-herd said, “It will soon run alone, just
+look how it eats already!” At night when he was going to drive the herd
+home again, he said to the calf, “If thou canst stand there and eat thy
+fill, thou canst also go on thy four legs; I don’t care to drag thee
+home again in my arms.” But the little peasant stood at his door, and
+waited for his little calf, and when the cow-herd drove the cows
+through the village, and the calf was missing, he inquired where it
+was. The cow-herd answered, “It is still standing out there eating. It
+would not stop and come with us.” But the little peasant said, “Oh, but
+I must have my beast back again.” Then they went back to the meadow
+together, but some one had stolen the calf, and it was gone. The
+cow-herd said, “It must have run away.” The peasant, however, said,
+“Don’t tell me that,” and led the cow-herd before the mayor, who for
+his carelessness condemned him to give the peasant a cow for the calf
+which had run away.
+
+And now the little peasant and his wife had the cow for which they had
+so long wished, and they were heartily glad, but they had no food for
+it, and could give it nothing to eat, so it soon had to be killed. They
+salted the flesh, and the peasant went into the town and wanted to sell
+the skin there, so that he might buy a new calf with the proceeds. On
+the way he passed by a mill, and there sat a raven with broken wings,
+and out of pity he took him and wrapped him in the skin. As, however,
+the weather grew so bad and there was a storm of rain and wind, he
+could go no farther, and turned back to the mill and begged for
+shelter. The miller’s wife was alone in the house, and said to the
+peasant, “Lay thyself on the straw there”, and gave him a slice of
+bread with cheese on it. The peasant ate it, and lay down with his skin
+beside him, and the woman thought, “He is tired and has gone to sleep.”
+In the meantime came the parson; the miller’s wife received him well,
+and said, “My husband is out, so we will have a feast.” The peasant
+listened, and when he heard about feasting he was vexed that he had
+been forced to make shift with a slice of bread with cheese on it. Then
+the woman served up four different things, roast meat, salad, cakes,
+and wine.
+
+Just as they were about to sit down and eat, there was a knocking
+outside. The woman said, “Oh, heavens! It is my husband!” She quickly
+hid the roast meat inside the tiled stove, the wine under the pillow,
+the salad on the bed, the cakes under it, and the parson in the
+cupboard in the entrance. Then she opened the door for her husband, and
+said, “Thank heaven, thou art back again! There is such a storm, it
+looks as if the world were coming to an end.” The miller saw the
+peasant lying on the straw, and asked, “What is that fellow doing
+there?” “Ah,” said the wife, “the poor knave came in the storm and
+rain, and begged for shelter, so I gave him a bit of bread and cheese,
+and showed him where the straw was.” The man said, “I have no
+objection, but be quick and get me something to eat.” The woman said,
+“But I have nothing but bread and cheese.” “I am contented with
+anything,” replied the husband, “so far as I am concerned, bread and
+cheese will do,” and looked at the peasant and said, “Come and eat some
+more with me.” The peasant did not require to be invited twice, but got
+up and ate. After this the miller saw the skin in which the raven was,
+lying on the ground, and asked, “What hast thou there?” The peasant
+answered, “I have a soothsayer inside it.” “Can he foretell anything to
+me?” said the miller. “Why not?” answered the peasant, “but he only
+says four things, and the fifth he keeps to himself.” The miller was
+curious, and said, “Let him foretell something for once.” Then the
+peasant pinched the raven’s head, so that he croaked and made a noise
+like krr, krr. The miller said, “What did he say?” The peasant
+answered, “In the first place, he says that there is some wine hidden
+under the pillow.” “Bless me!” cried the miller, and went there and
+found the wine. “Now go on,” said he. The peasant made the raven croak
+again, and said, “In the second place, he says that there is some roast
+meat in the tiled stove.” “Upon my word!” cried the miller, and went
+thither, and found the roast meat. The peasant made the raven prophesy
+still more, and said, “Thirdly, he says that there is some salad on the
+bed.” “That would be a fine thing!” cried the miller, and went there
+and found the salad. At last the peasant pinched the raven once more
+till he croaked, and said, “Fourthly, he says that there are some cakes
+under the bed.” “That would be a fine thing!” cried the miller, and
+looked there, and found the cakes.
+
+And now the two sat down to the table together, but the miller’s wife
+was frightened to death, and went to bed and took all the keys with
+her. The miller would have liked much to know the fifth, but the little
+peasant said, “First, we will quickly eat the four things, for the
+fifth is something bad.” So they ate, and after that they bargained how
+much the miller was to give for the fifth prophesy, until they agreed
+on three hundred thalers. Then the peasant once more pinched the
+raven’s head till he croaked loudly. The miller asked, “What did he
+say?” The peasant replied, “He says that the Devil is hiding outside
+there in the cupboard in the entrance.” The miller said, “The Devil
+must go out,” and opened the house-door; then the woman was forced to
+give up the keys, and the peasant unlocked the cupboard. The parson ran
+out as fast as he could, and the miller said, “It was true; I saw the
+black rascal with my own eyes.” The peasant, however, made off next
+morning by daybreak with the three hundred thalers.
+
+At home the small peasant gradually launched out; he built a beautiful
+house, and the peasants said, “The small peasant has certainly been to
+the place where golden snow falls, and people carry the gold home in
+shovels.” Then the small peasant was brought before the Mayor, and
+bidden to say from whence his wealth came. He answered, “I sold my
+cow’s skin in the town, for three hundred thalers.” When the peasants
+heard that, they too wished to enjoy this great profit, and ran home,
+killed all their cows, and stripped off their skins in order to sell
+them in the town to the greatest advantage. The Mayor, however, said,
+“But my servant must go first.” When she came to the merchant in the
+town, he did not give her more than two thalers for a skin, and when
+the others came, he did not give them so much, and said, “What can I do
+with all these skins?”
+
+Then the peasants were vexed that the small peasant should have thus
+overreached them, wanted to take vengeance on him, and accused him of
+this treachery before the Mayor. The innocent little peasant was
+unanimously sentenced to death, and was to be rolled into the water, in
+a barrel pierced full of holes. He was led forth, and a priest was
+brought who was to say a mass for his soul. The others were all obliged
+to retire to a distance, and when the peasant looked at the priest, he
+recognized the man who had been with the miller’s wife. He said to him,
+“I set you free from the cupboard, set me free from the barrel.” At
+this same moment up came, with a flock of sheep, the very shepherd who
+as the peasant knew had long been wishing to be Mayor, so he cried with
+all his might, “No, I will not do it; if the whole world insists on it,
+I will not do it!” The shepherd hearing that, came up to him, and
+asked, “What art thou about? What is it that thou wilt not do?” The
+peasant said, “They want to make me Mayor, if I will but put myself in
+the barrel, but I will not do it.” The shepherd said, “If nothing more
+than that is needful in order to be Mayor, I would get into the barrel
+at once.” The peasant said, “If thou wilt get in, thou wilt be Mayor.”
+The shepherd was willing, and got in, and the peasant shut the top down
+on him; then he took the shepherd’s flock for himself, and drove it
+away. The parson went to the crowd, and declared that the mass had been
+said. Then they came and rolled the barrel towards the water. When the
+barrel began to roll, the shepherd cried, “I am quite willing to be
+Mayor.” They believed no otherwise than that it was the peasant who was
+saying this, and answered, “That is what we intend, but first thou
+shalt look about thee a little down below there,” and they rolled the
+barrel down into the water.
+
+After that the peasants went home, and as they were entering the
+village, the small peasant also came quietly in, driving a flock of
+sheep and looking quite contented. Then the peasants were astonished,
+and said, “Peasant, from whence comest thou? Hast thou come out of the
+water?” “Yes, truly,” replied the peasant, “I sank deep, deep down,
+until at last I got to the bottom; I pushed the bottom out of the
+barrel, and crept out, and there were pretty meadows on which a number
+of lambs were feeding, and from thence I brought this flock away with
+me.” Said the peasants, “Are there any more there?” “Oh, yes,” said he,
+“more than I could do anything with.” Then the peasants made up their
+minds that they too would fetch some sheep for themselves, a flock
+apiece, but the Mayor said, “I come first.” So they went to the water
+together, and just then there were some of the small fleecy clouds in
+the blue sky, which are called little lambs, and they were reflected in
+the water, whereupon the peasants cried, “We already see the sheep down
+below!” The Mayor pressed forward and said, “I will go down first, and
+look about me, and if things promise well I’ll call you.” So he jumped
+in; splash! went the water; he made a sound as if he were calling them,
+and the whole crowd plunged in after him as one man. Then the entire
+village was dead, and the small peasant, as sole heir, became a rich
+man.

content/library/grimm/062_the_queen_bee.txt

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+The Queen Bee
+
+Two kings’ sons once went out in search of adventures, and fell into a
+wild, disorderly way of living, so that they never came home again. The
+youngest, who was called Simpleton, set out to seek his brothers, but
+when at length he found them they mocked him for thinking that he with
+his simplicity could get through the world, when they two could not
+make their way, and yet were so much cleverer. They all three travelled
+away together, and came to an ant-hill. The two elder wanted to destroy
+it, to see the little ants creeping about in their terror, and carrying
+their eggs away, but Simpleton said, “Leave the creatures in peace; I
+will not allow you to disturb them.” Then they went onwards and came to
+a lake, on which a great number of ducks were swimming. The two
+brothers wanted to catch a couple and roast them, but Simpleton would
+not permit it, and said, “Leave the creatures in peace, I will not
+suffer you to kill them.” At length they came to a bee’s nest, in which
+there was so much honey that it ran out of the trunk of the tree where
+it was. The two wanted to make a fire beneath the tree, and suffocate
+the bees in order to take away the honey, but Simpleton again stopped
+them and said, “Leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to
+burn them.” At length the three brothers arrived at a castle where
+stone horses were standing in the stables, and no human being was to be
+seen, and they went through all the halls until, quite at the end, they
+came to a door in which were three locks. In the middle of the door,
+however, there was a little pane, through which they could see into the
+room. There they saw a little grey man, who was sitting at a table.
+They called him, once, twice, but he did not hear; at last they called
+him for the third time, when he got up, opened the locks, and came out.
+He said nothing, however, but conducted them to a handsomely-spread
+table, and when they had eaten and drunk, he took each of them to a
+bedroom. Next morning the little grey man came to the eldest, beckoned
+to him, and conducted him to a stone table, on which were inscribed
+three tasks, by the performance of which the castle could be delivered.
+The first was that in the forest, beneath the moss, lay the princess’s
+pearls, a thousand in number, which must be picked up, and if by sunset
+one single pearl was wanting, he who had looked for them would be
+turned into stone. The eldest went thither, and sought the whole day,
+but when it came to an end, he had only found one hundred, and what was
+written on the table came to pass, and he was changed into stone. Next
+day, the second brother undertook the adventure; it did not, however,
+fare much better with him than with the eldest; he did not find more
+than two hundred pearls, and was changed to stone. At last the turn
+came to Simpleton also, who sought in the moss. It was, however, so
+hard to find the pearls, and he got on so slowly, that he seated
+himself on a stone, and wept. And while he was thus sitting, the King
+of the ants whose life he had once saved, came with five thousand ants,
+and before long the little creatures had got all the pearls together,
+and laid them in a heap. The second task, however, was to fetch out of
+the lake the key of the King’s daughter’s bed-chamber. When Simpleton
+came to the lake, the ducks which he had saved, swam up to him, dived
+down, and brought the key out of the water. But the third task was the
+most difficult; from amongst the three sleeping daughters of the King
+was the youngest and dearest to be sought out. They, however, resembled
+each other exactly, and were only to be distinguished by their having
+eaten different sweetmeats before they fell asleep; the eldest a bit of
+sugar; the second a little syrup; and the youngest a spoonful of honey.
+Then the Queen of the bees, which Simpleton had protected from the
+fire, came and tasted the lips of all three, and at last she remained
+sitting on the mouth which had eaten honey, and thus the King’s son
+recognized the right princess. Then the enchantment was at an end;
+everything was released from sleep, and those who had been turned to
+stone received once more their natural forms. Simpleton married the
+youngest and sweetest princess, and after her father’s death became
+King, and his two brothers received the two other sisters.

content/library/grimm/063_the_three_feathers.txt

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+The Three Feathers
+
+There was once on a time a King who had three sons, of whom two were
+clever and wise, but the third did not speak much, and was simple, and
+was called the Simpleton. When the King had become old and weak, and
+was thinking of his end, he did not know which of his sons should
+inherit the kingdom after him. Then he said to them, “Go forth, and he
+who brings me the most beautiful carpet shall be King after my death.”
+And that there should be no dispute amongst them, he took them outside
+his castle, blew three feathers in the air, and said, “You shall go as
+they fly.” One feather flew to the east, the other to the west, but the
+third flew straight up and did not fly far, but soon fell to the
+ground. And now one brother went to the right, and the other to the
+left, and they mocked Simpleton, who was forced to stay where the third
+feather had fallen. He sat down and was sad, then all at once he saw
+that there was a trap-door close by the feather. He raised it up, found
+some steps, and went down them, and then he came to another door,
+knocked at it, and heard somebody inside calling,
+
+“Little green maiden small,
+Hopping hither and thither;
+Hop to the door,
+And quickly see who is there.”
+
+
+The door opened, and he saw a great, fat toad sitting, and round about
+her a crowd of little toads. The fat toad asked what he wanted? He
+answered, “I should like to have the prettiest and finest carpet in the
+world.” Then she called a young one and said,
+
+“Little green maiden small,
+Hopping hither and thither,
+Hop quickly and bring me
+The great box here.”
+
+
+The young toad brought the box, and the fat toad opened it, and gave
+Simpleton a carpet out of it, so beautiful and so fine, that on the
+earth above, none could have been woven like it. Then he thanked her,
+and ascended again. The two others had, however, looked on their
+youngest brother as so stupid that they believed he would find and
+bring nothing at all. “Why should we give ourselves a great deal of
+trouble to search?” said they, and got some coarse handkerchiefs from
+the first shepherds’ wives whom they met, and carried them home to the
+King. At the same time Simpleton also came back, and brought his
+beautiful carpet, and when the King saw it he was astonished, and said,
+“If justice be done, the kingdom belongs to the youngest.” But the two
+others let their father have no peace, and said that it was impossible
+that Simpleton, who in everything lacked understanding, should be King,
+and entreated him to make a new agreement with them. Then the father
+said, “He who brings me the most beautiful ring shall inherit the
+kingdom,” and led the three brothers out, and blew into the air three
+feathers, which they were to follow. Those of the two eldest again went
+east and west, and Simpleton’s feather flew straight up, and fell down
+near the door into the earth. Then he went down again to the fat toad,
+and told her that he wanted the most beautiful ring. She at once
+ordered her great box to be brought, and gave him a ring out of it,
+which sparkled with jewels, and was so beautiful that no goldsmith on
+earth would have been able to make it. The two eldest laughed at
+Simpleton for going to seek a golden ring. They gave themselves no
+trouble, but knocked the nails out of an old carriage-ring, and took it
+to the King; but when Simpleton produced his golden ring, his father
+again said, “The kingdom belongs to him.” The two eldest did not cease
+from tormenting the King until he made a third condition, and declared
+that the one who brought the most beautiful woman home, should have the
+kingdom. He again blew the three feathers into the air, and they flew
+as before.
+
+Then Simpleton without more ado went down to the fat toad, and said, “I
+am to take home the most beautiful woman!” “Oh,” answered the toad,
+“the most beautiful woman! She is not at hand at the moment, but still
+thou shalt have her.” She gave him a yellow turnip which had been
+hollowed out, to which six mice were harnessed. Then Simpleton said
+quite mournfully, “What am I to do with that?” The toad answered, “Just
+put one of my little toads into it.” Then he seized one at random out
+of the circle, and put her into the yellow coach, but hardly was she
+seated inside it than she turned into a wonderfully beautiful maiden,
+and the turnip into a coach, and the six mice into horses. So he kissed
+her, and drove off quickly with the horses, and took her to the King.
+His brothers came afterwards; they had given themselves no trouble at
+all to seek beautiful girls, but had brought with them the first
+peasant women they chanced to meet. When the King saw them he said,
+“After my death the kingdom belongs to my youngest son.” But the two
+eldest deafened the King’s ears afresh with their clamour, “We cannot
+consent to Simpleton’s being King,” and demanded that the one whose
+wife could leap through a ring which hung in the centre of the hall
+should have the preference. They thought, “The peasant women can do
+that easily; they are strong enough, but the delicate maiden will jump
+herself to death.” The aged King agreed likewise to this. Then the two
+peasant women jumped, and jumped through the ring, but were so stout
+that they fell, and their coarse arms and legs broke in two. And then
+the pretty maiden whom Simpleton had brought with him, sprang, and
+sprang through as lightly as a deer, and all opposition had to cease.
+So he received the crown, and has ruled wisely for a length of time.

content/library/grimm/064_the_golden_goose.txt

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+The Golden Goose
+
+There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called
+Dummling, and was despised, mocked, and put down on every occasion.
+
+It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood,
+and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a
+bottle of wine in order that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst.
+
+When he entered the forest there met him a little grey-haired old man
+who bade him good-day, and said, “Do give me a piece of cake out of
+your pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine; I am so hungry and
+thirsty.” But the prudent youth answered, “If I give you my cake and
+wine, I shall have none for myself; be off with you,” and he left the
+little man standing and went on.
+
+But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he made a
+false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that he had to go home
+and have it bound up. And this was the little grey man’s doing.
+
+After this the second son went into the forest, and his mother gave
+him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine. The little old grey
+man met him likewise, and asked him for a piece of cake and a drink of
+wine. But the second son, too, said with much reason, “What I give you
+will be taken away from myself; be off!” and he left the little man
+standing and went on. His punishment, however, was not delayed; when he
+had made a few strokes at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so
+that he had to be carried home.
+
+Then Dummling said, “Father, do let me go and cut wood.” The father
+answered, “Your brothers have hurt themselves with it, leave it alone,
+you do not understand anything about it.” But Dummling begged so long
+that at last he said, “Just go then, you will get wiser by hurting
+yourself.” His mother gave him a cake made with water and baked in the
+cinders, and with it a bottle of sour beer.
+
+When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him likewise,
+and greeting him, said, “Give me a piece of your cake and a drink out
+of your bottle; I am so hungry and thirsty.” Dummling answered, “I have
+only cinder-cake and sour beer; if that pleases you, we will sit down
+and eat.” So they sat down, and when Dummling pulled out his
+cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake, and the sour beer had become
+good wine. So they ate and drank, and after that the little man said,
+“Since you have a good heart, and are willing to divide what you have,
+I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut it down, and
+you will find something at the roots.” Then the little man took leave
+of him.
+
+Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a goose
+sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He lifted her up, and
+taking her with him, went to an inn where he thought he would stay the
+night. Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose and were
+curious to know what such a wonderful bird might be, and would have
+liked to have one of its golden feathers.
+
+The eldest thought, “I shall soon find an opportunity of pulling out a
+feather,” and as soon as Dummling had gone out she seized the goose by
+the wing, but her finger and hand remained sticking fast to it.
+
+The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she might get a
+feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched her sister than she
+was held fast.
+
+At last the third also came with the like intent, and the others
+screamed out, “Keep away; for goodness’ sake keep away!” But she did
+not understand why she was to keep away. “The others are there,” she
+thought, “I may as well be there too,” and ran to them; but as soon as
+she had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her. So they
+had to spend the night with the goose.
+
+The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and set out,
+without troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on to
+it. They were obliged to run after him continually, now left, now
+right, just as he was inclined to go.
+
+In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he saw the
+procession he said, “For shame, you good-for-nothing girls, why are you
+running across the fields after this young man? is that seemly?” At the
+same time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull her away,
+but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck fast, and was himself
+obliged to run behind.
+
+Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the parson, running
+behind three girls. He was astonished at this and called out, “Hi, your
+reverence, whither away so quickly? do not forget that we have a
+christening to-day!” and running after him he took him by the sleeve,
+but was also held fast to it.
+
+Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other, two labourers
+came with their hoes from the fields; the parson called out to them and
+begged that they would set him and the sexton free. But they had
+scarcely touched the sexton when they were held fast, and now there
+were seven of them running behind Dummling and the goose.
+
+Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had a
+daughter who was so serious that no one could make her laugh. So he had
+put forth a decree that whosoever should be able to make her laugh
+should marry her. When Dummling heard this, he went with his goose and
+all her train before the King’s daughter, and as soon as she saw the
+seven people running on and on, one behind the other, she began to
+laugh quite loudly, and as if she would never leave off. Thereupon
+Dummling asked to have her for his wife, and the wedding was
+celebrated. After the King’s death, Dummling inherited the kingdom and
+lived a long time contentedly with his wife.

content/library/grimm/065_allerleirauh.txt

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+Allerleirauh
+
+There was once on a time a King who had a wife with golden hair, and
+she was so beautiful that her equal was not to be found on earth. It
+came to pass that she lay ill, and as she felt that she must soon die,
+she called the King and said, “If thou wishest to marry again after my
+death, take no one who is not quite as beautiful as I am, and who has
+not just such golden hair as I have: this thou must promise me.” And
+after the King had promised her this she closed her eyes and died.
+
+For a long time the King could not be comforted, and had no thought of
+taking another wife. At length his councillors said, “There is no help
+for it, the King must marry again, that we may have a Queen.” And now
+messengers were sent about far and wide, to seek a bride who equalled
+the late Queen in beauty. In the whole world, however, none was to be
+found, and even if one had been found, still there would have been no
+one who had such golden hair. So the messengers came home as they went.
+
+Now the King had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her dead
+mother, and had the same golden hair. When she was grown up the King
+looked at her one day, and saw that in every respect she was like his
+late wife, and suddenly felt a violent love for her. Then he spake to
+his councillors, “I will marry my daughter, for she is the counterpart
+of my late wife, otherwise I can find no bride who resembles her.” When
+the councillors heard that, they were shocked, and said, “God has
+forbidden a father to marry his daughter, no good can come from such a
+crime, and the kingdom will be involved in the ruin.”
+
+The daughter was still more shocked when she became aware of her
+father’s resolution, but hoped to turn him from his design. Then she
+said to him, “Before I fulfil your wish, I must have three dresses, one
+as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as bright as
+the stars; besides this, I wish for a mantle of a thousand different
+kinds of fur and hair joined together, and one of every kind of animal
+in your kingdom must give a piece of his skin for it.” But she thought,
+“To get that will be quite impossible, and thus I shall divert my
+father from his wicked intentions.” The King, however, did not give it
+up, and the cleverest maidens in his kingdom had to weave the three
+dresses, one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one
+as bright as the stars, and his huntsmen had to catch one of every kind
+of animal in the whole of his kingdom, and take from it a piece of its
+skin, and out of these was made a mantle of a thousand different kinds
+of fur. At length, when all was ready, the King caused the mantle to be
+brought, spread it out before her, and said, “The wedding shall be
+to-morrow.”
+
+When, therefore, the King’s daughter saw that there was no longer any
+hope of turning her father’s heart, she resolved to run away from him.
+In the night whilst every one was asleep, she got up, and took three
+different things from her treasures, a golden ring, a golden
+spinning-wheel, and a golden reel. The three dresses of the sun, moon,
+and stars she put into a nutshell, put on her mantle of all kinds of
+fur, and blackened her face and hands with soot. Then she commended
+herself to God, and went away, and walked the whole night until she
+reached a great forest. And as she was tired, she got into a hollow
+tree, and fell asleep.
+
+The sun rose, and she slept on, and she was still sleeping when it was
+full day. Then it so happened that the King to whom this forest
+belonged, was hunting in it. When his dogs came to the tree, they
+sniffed, and ran barking round about it. The King said to the huntsmen,
+“Just see what kind of wild beast has hidden itself in there.” The
+huntsmen obeyed his order, and when they came back they said, “A
+wondrous beast is lying in the hollow tree; we have never before seen
+one like it. Its skin is fur of a thousand different kinds, but it is
+lying asleep.” Said the King, “See if you can catch it alive, and then
+fasten it to the carriage, and we will take it with us.” When the
+huntsmen laid hold of the maiden, she awoke full of terror, and cried
+to them, “I am a poor child, deserted by father and mother; have pity
+on me, and take me with you.” Then said they, “Allerleirauh, thou wilt
+be useful in the kitchen, come with us, and thou canst sweep up the
+ashes.” So they put her in the carriage, and took her home to the royal
+palace. There they pointed out to her a closet under the stairs, where
+no daylight entered, and said, “Hairy animal, there canst thou live and
+sleep.” Then she was sent into the kitchen, and there she carried wood
+and water, swept the hearth, plucked the fowls, picked the vegetables,
+raked the ashes, and did all the dirty work.
+
+Allerleirauh lived there for a long time in great wretchedness. Alas,
+fair princess, what is to become of thee now! It happened, however,
+that one day a feast was held in the palace, and she said to the cook,
+“May I go up-stairs for a while, and look on? I will place myself
+outside the door.” The cook answered, “Yes, go, but you must be back
+here in half-an-hour to sweep the hearth.” Then she took her oil-lamp,
+went into her den, put off her fur-dress, and washed the soot off her
+face and hands, so that her full beauty once more came to light. And
+she opened the nut, and took out her dress which shone like the sun,
+and when she had done that she went up to the festival, and every one
+made way for her, for no one knew her, and thought no otherwise than
+that she was a king’s daughter. The King came to meet her, gave his
+hand to her, and danced with her, and thought in his heart, “My eyes
+have never yet seen any one so beautiful!” When the dance was over she
+curtsied, and when the King looked round again she had vanished, and
+none knew whither. The guards who stood outside the palace were called
+and questioned, but no one had seen her.
+
+She had, however, run into her little den, had quickly taken off her
+dress, made her face and hands black again, put on the fur-mantle, and
+again was Allerleirauh. And now when she went into the kitchen, and was
+about to get to her work and sweep up the ashes, the cook said, “Leave
+that alone till morning, and make me the soup for the King; I, too,
+will go upstairs awhile, and take a look; but let no hairs fall in, or
+in future thou shalt have nothing to eat.” So the cook went away, and
+Allerleirauh made the soup for the king, and made bread soup and the
+best she could, and when it was ready she fetched her golden ring from
+her little den, and put it in the bowl in which the soup was served.
+When the dancing was over, the King had his soup brought and ate it,
+and he liked it so much that it seemed to him he had never tasted
+better. But when he came to the bottom of the bowl, he saw a golden
+ring lying, and could not conceive how it could have got there. Then he
+ordered the cook to appear before him. The cook was terrified when he
+heard the order, and said to Allerleirauh, “Thou hast certainly let a
+hair fall into the soup, and if thou hast, thou shalt be beaten for
+it.” When he came before the King the latter asked who had made the
+soup? The cook replied, “I made it.” But the King said, “That is not
+true, for it was much better than usual, and cooked differently.” He
+answered, “I must acknowledge that I did not make it, it was made by
+the rough animal.” The King said, “Go and bid it come up here.”
+
+When Allerleirauh came, the King said, “Who art thou?” “I am a poor
+girl who no longer has any father or mother.” He asked further, “Of
+what use art thou in my palace?” She answered, “I am good for nothing
+but to have boots thrown at my head.” He continued, “Where didst thou
+get the ring which was in the soup?” She answered, “I know nothing
+about the ring.” So the King could learn nothing, and had to send her
+away again.
+
+After a while, there was another festival, and then, as before,
+Allerleirauh begged the cook for leave to go and look on. He answered,
+“Yes, but come back again in half-an-hour, and make the King the bread
+soup which he so much likes.” Then she ran into her den, washed herself
+quickly, and took out of the nut the dress which was as silvery as the
+moon, and put it on. Then she went up and was like a princess, and the
+King stepped forward to meet her, and rejoiced to see her once more,
+and as the dance was just beginning they danced it together. But when
+it was ended, she again disappeared so quickly that the King could not
+observe where she went. She, however, sprang into her den, and once
+more made herself a hairy animal, and went into the kitchen to prepare
+the bread soup. When the cook had gone up-stairs, she fetched the
+little golden spinning-wheel, and put it in the bowl so that the soup
+covered it. Then it was taken to the King, who ate it, and liked it as
+much as before, and had the cook brought, who this time likewise was
+forced to confess that Allerleirauh had prepared the soup. Allerleirauh
+again came before the King, but she answered that she was good for
+nothing else but to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew
+nothing at all about the little golden spinning-wheel.
+
+When, for the third time, the King held a festival, all happened just
+as it had done before. The cook said, “Faith rough-skin, thou art a
+witch, and always puttest something in the soup which makes it so good
+that the King likes it better than that which I cook,” but as she
+begged so hard, he let her go up at the appointed time. And now she put
+on the dress which shone like the stars, and thus entered the hall.
+Again the King danced with the beautiful maiden, and thought that she
+never yet had been so beautiful. And whilst she was dancing, he
+contrived, without her noticing it, to slip a golden ring on her
+finger, and he had given orders that the dance should last a very long
+time. When it was ended, he wanted to hold her fast by her hands, but
+she tore herself loose, and sprang away so quickly through the crowd
+that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast as she could into her
+den beneath the stairs, but as she had been too long, and had stayed
+more than half-an-hour she could not take off her pretty dress, but
+only threw over it her fur-mantle, and in her haste she did not make
+herself quite black, but one finger remained white. Then Allerleirauh
+ran into the kitchen, and cooked the bread soup for the King, and as
+the cook was away, put her golden reel into it. When the King found the
+reel at the bottom of it, he caused Allerleirauh to be summoned, and
+then he espied the white finger, and saw the ring which he had put on
+it during the dance. Then he grasped her by the hand, and held her
+fast, and when she wanted to release herself and run away, her mantle
+of fur opened a little, and the star-dress shone forth. The King
+clutched the mantle and tore it off. Then her golden hair shone forth,
+and she stood there in full splendour, and could no longer hide
+herself. And when she had washed the soot and ashes from her face, she
+was more beautiful than anyone who had ever been seen on earth. But the
+King said, “Thou art my dear bride, and we will never more part from
+each other.” Thereupon the marriage was solemnized, and they lived
+happily until their death.

content/library/grimm/066_the_hares_bride.txt

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+The Hare’s Bride
+
+There was once a woman and her daughter who lived in a pretty garden
+with cabbages; and a little hare came into it, and during the winter
+time ate all the cabbages. Then says the mother to the daughter, “Go
+into the garden, and chase the hare away.” The girl says to the little
+hare, “Sh-sh, hare, you are still eating up all our cabbages.” Says the
+hare, “Come, maiden, and seat yourself on my little hare’s tail, and
+come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The girl will not do it. Next
+day the hare comes again and eats the cabbages, then says the mother to
+the daughter, “Go into the garden, and drive the hare away.” The girl
+says to the hare, “Sh-sh, little hare, you are still eating all the
+cabbages.” The little hare says, “Maiden, seat thyself on my little
+hare’s tail, and come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The maiden
+refuses. The third day the hare comes again, and eats the cabbages. On
+this the mother says to the daughter, “Go into the garden, and hunt the
+hare away.” Says the maiden, “Sh-sh, little hare, you are still eating
+all our cabbages.” Says the little hare, “Come, maiden, seat thyself on
+my little hare’s tail, and come with me into my little hare’s hut.” The
+girl seats herself on the little hare’s tail, and then the hare takes
+her far away to his little hut, and says, “Now cook green cabbage and
+millet-seed, and I will invite the wedding-guests.” Then all the
+wedding-guests assembled. (Who were the wedding-guests?) That I can
+tell you as another told it to me. They were all hares, and the crow
+was there as parson to marry the bride and bridegroom, and the fox as
+clerk, and the altar was under the rainbow.
+
+The girl, however, was sad, for she was all alone. The little hare
+comes and says, “Open the doors, open the doors, the wedding-guests are
+merry.” The bride says nothing, but weeps. The little hare goes away.
+The little hare comes back and says, “Take off the lid, take off the
+lid, the wedding-guests are hungry.” The bride again says nothing, and
+weeps. The little hare goes away. The little hare comes back and says,
+“Take off the lid, take off the lid, the wedding-guests are waiting.”
+Then the bride says nothing, and the hare goes away, but she dresses a
+straw-doll in her clothes, and gives her a spoon to stir with, and sets
+her by the pan with the millet-seed, and goes back to her mother. The
+little hare comes once more and says, “Take off the lid, take off the
+lid,” and gets up, and strikes the doll on the head so that her cap
+falls off.
+
+Then the little hare sees that it is not his bride, and goes away and
+is sorrowful.

content/library/grimm/067_the_twelve_huntsmen.txt

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+The Twelve Huntsmen
+
+There was once a King’s son who was betrothed to a maiden whom he loved
+very much. And when he was sitting beside her and very happy, news came
+that his father lay sick unto death, and desired to see him once again
+before his end. Then he said to his beloved, “I must now go and leave
+thee, I give thee a ring as a remembrance of me. When I am King, I will
+return and fetch thee.” So he rode away, and when he reached his
+father, the latter was dangerously ill, and near his death. He said to
+him, “Dear son, I wished to see thee once again before my end, promise
+me to marry as I wish,” and he named a certain King’s daughter who was
+to be his wife. The son was in such trouble that he did not think what
+he was doing, and said, “Yes, dear father, your will shall be done,”
+and thereupon the King shut his eyes, and died.
+
+When therefore the son had been proclaimed King, and the time of
+mourning was over, he was forced to keep the promise which he had given
+his father, and caused the King’s daughter to be asked in marriage, and
+she was promised to him. His first betrothed heard of this, and fretted
+so much about his faithlessness that she nearly died. Then her father
+said to her, “Dearest child, why art thou so sad? Thou shalt have
+whatsoever thou wilt.” She thought for a moment and said, “Dear father,
+I wish for eleven girls exactly like myself in face, figure, and size.”
+The father said, “If it be possible, thy desire shall be fulfilled,”
+and he caused a search to be made in his whole kingdom, until eleven
+young maidens were found who exactly resembled his daughter in face,
+figure, and size.
+
+When they came to the King’s daughter, she had twelve suits of
+huntsmen’s clothes made, all alike, and the eleven maidens had to put
+on the huntsmen’s clothes, and she herself put on the twelfth suit.
+Thereupon she took leave of her father, and rode away with them, and
+rode to the court of her former betrothed, whom she loved so dearly.
+Then she inquired if he required any huntsmen, and if he would take the
+whole of them into his service. The King looked at her and did not know
+her, but as they were such handsome fellows, he said, “Yes,” and that
+he would willingly take them, and now they were the King’s twelve
+huntsmen.
+
+The King, however, had a lion which was a wondrous animal, for he knew
+all concealed and secret things. It came to pass that one evening he
+said to the King, “Thou thinkest thou hast twelve huntsmen?” “Yes,”
+said the King, “they are twelve huntsmen.” The lion continued, “Thou
+art mistaken, they are twelve girls.” The King said, “That cannot be
+true! How wilt thou prove that to me?” “Oh, just let some peas be
+strewn in thy ante-chamber,” answered the lion, “and then thou wilt
+soon see it. Men have a firm step, and when they walk over the peas
+none of them stir, but girls trip and skip, and drag their feet, and
+the peas roll about.” The King was well pleased with the counsel, and
+caused the peas to be strewn.
+
+There was, however, a servant of the King’s who favored the huntsmen,
+and when he heard that they were going to be put to this test he went
+to them and repeated everything, and said, “The lion wants to make the
+King believe that you are girls.” Then the King’s daughter thanked him,
+and said to her maidens, “Put on some strength, and step firmly on the
+peas.” So next morning when the King had the twelve huntsmen called
+before him, and they came into the ante-chamber where the peas were
+lying, they stepped so firmly on them, and had such a strong, sure
+walk, that not one of the peas either rolled or stirred. Then they went
+away again, and the King said to the lion, “Thou hast lied to me, they
+walk just like men.” The lion said, “They have got to know that they
+were going to be put to the test, and have assumed some strength. Just
+let twelve spinning-wheels be brought into the ante-chamber some day,
+and they will go to them and be pleased with them, and that is what no
+man would do.” The King liked the advice, and had the spinning-wheels
+placed in the ante-chamber.
+
+But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen, went to them,
+and disclosed the project. Then when they were alone the King’s
+daughter said to her eleven girls, “Put some constraint on yourselves,
+and do not look round at the spinning-wheels.” And next morning when
+the King had his twelve huntsmen summoned, they went through the
+ante-chamber, and never once looked at the spinning wheels. Then the
+King again said to the lion, “Thou hast deceived me, they are men, for
+they have not looked at the spinning-wheels.” The lion replied, “They
+have learnt that they were going to be put to the test, and have
+restrained themselves.” The King, however, would no longer believe the
+lion.
+
+The twelve huntsmen always followed the King to the chase, and his
+liking for them continually increased. Now it came to pass that once
+when they were out hunting, news came that the King’s betrothed was
+approaching. When the true bride heard that, it hurt her so much that
+her heart was almost broken, and she fell fainting to the ground. The
+King thought something had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to
+him, wanted to help him, and drew his glove off. Then he saw the ring
+which he had given to his first bride, and when he looked in her face
+he recognized her. Then his heart was so touched that he kissed her,
+and when she opened her eyes he said, “Thou art mine, and I am thine,
+and no one in the world can alter that.” He sent a messenger to the
+other bride, and entreated her to return to her own kingdom, for he had
+a wife already, and a man who had just found an old dish did not
+require a new one. Thereupon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion
+was again taken into favour, because, after all, he had told the truth.

content/library/grimm/068_the_thief_and_his_master.txt

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+The Thief and his Master
+
+Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went into the church
+and prayed to our Lord God to know which would be most advantageous for
+him. Then the clerk got behind the altar, and said, “Thieving,
+thieving.” On this Hans goes back to his son, and tells him he is to
+learn thieving, and that the Lord God had said so. So he goes with his
+son to seek a man who is acquainted with thieving. They walk a long
+time and come into a great forest, where stands a little house with an
+old woman in it. Hans says, “Do you know of a man who is acquainted
+with thieving?” “You can learn that here quite well,” says the woman,
+“my son is a master of it.” So he speaks with the son, and asks if he
+knows thieving really well? The master-thief says, “I will teach him
+well. Come back when a year is over, and then if you recognize your
+son, I will take no payment at all for teaching him; but if you don’t
+know him, you must give me two hundred thalers.”
+
+The father goes home again, and the son learns witchcraft and thieving,
+thoroughly. When the year is out, the father is full of anxiety to know
+how he is to contrive to recognize his son. As he is thus going about
+in his trouble, he meets a little dwarf, who says, “Man, what ails you,
+that you are always in such trouble?”
+
+“Oh,” says Hans, “a year ago I placed my son with a master-thief who
+told me I was to come back when the year was out, and that if I then
+did not know my son when I saw him, I was to pay two hundred thalers;
+but if I did know him I was to pay nothing, and now I am afraid of not
+knowing him and can’t tell where I am to get the money.” Then the dwarf
+tells him to take a small basket of bread with him, and to stand
+beneath the chimney. “There on the cross-beam is a basket, out of which
+a little bird is peeping, and that is your son.”
+
+Hans goes thither, and throws a little basket full of black bread in
+front of the basket with the bird in it, and the little bird comes out,
+and looks up. “Hollo, my son, art thou here?” says the father, and the
+son is delighted to see his father, but the master-thief says, “The
+devil must have prompted you, or how could you have known your son?”
+“Father, let us go,” said the youth.
+
+Then the father and son set out homeward. On the way a carriage comes
+driving by. Hereupon the son says to his father, “I will change myself
+into a large greyhound, and then you can earn a great deal of money by
+me.” Then the gentleman calls from the carriage, “My man, will you sell
+your dog?” “Yes,” says the father. “How much do you want for it?”
+“Thirty thalers.” “Eh, man, that is a great deal, but as it is such a
+very fine dog I will have it.” The gentleman takes it into his
+carriage, but when they have driven a little farther the dog springs
+out of the carriage through the window, and goes back to his father,
+and is no longer a greyhound.
+
+They go home together. Next day there is a fair in the neighboring
+town, so the youth says to his father, “I will now change myself into a
+beautiful horse, and you can sell me; but when you have sold me, you
+must take off my bridle, or I cannot become a man again.” Then the
+father goes with the horse to the fair, and the master-thief comes and
+buys the horse for a hundred thalers, but the father forgets, and does
+not take off the bridle. So the man goes home with the horse, and puts
+it in the stable. When the maid crosses the threshold, the horse says,
+“Take off my bridle, take off my bridle.” Then the maid stands still,
+and says, “What, canst thou speak?” So she goes and takes the bridle
+off, and the horse becomes a sparrow, and flies out at the door, and
+the wizard becomes a sparrow also, and flies after him. Then they come
+together and cast lots, but the master loses, and betakes himself to
+the water and is a fish. Then the youth also becomes a fish, and they
+cast lots again, and the master loses. So the master changes himself
+into a cock, and the youth becomes a fox, and bites the master’s head
+off, and he died and has remained dead to this day.

content/library/grimm/069_jorinda_and_joringel.txt

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+Jorinda and Joringel
+
+There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and thick forest,
+and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone. In the day-time
+she changed herself into a cat or a screech-owl, but in the evening she
+took her proper shape again as a human being. She could lure wild
+beasts and birds to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted
+them. If any one came within one hundred paces of the castle he was
+obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until she
+bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this
+circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work
+cage, and carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about
+seven thousand cages of rare birds in the castle.
+
+Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer
+than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had
+promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of betrothal,
+and their greatest happiness was being together. One day in order that
+they might be able to talk together in quiet they went for a walk in
+the forest. “Take care,” said Joringel, “that you do not go too near
+the castle.”
+
+It was a beautiful evening; the sun shone brightly between the trunks
+of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the turtle-doves
+sang mournfully upon the young boughs of the birch-trees.
+
+Jorinda wept now and then: she sat down in the sunshine and was
+sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too; they were as sad as if they were
+about to die. Then they looked around them, and were quite at a loss,
+for they did not know by which way they should go home. The sun was
+still half above the mountain and half set.
+
+Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle
+close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear.
+Jorinda was singing—
+
+“My little bird, with the necklace red,
+Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
+He sings that the dove must soon be dead,
+Sings sorrow, sor—jug, jug, jug.”
+
+
+Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and
+sang, “jug, jug, jug.” A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times
+round about her, and three times cried, “to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo!”
+
+Joringel could not move: he stood there like a stone, and could neither
+weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.
+
+The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly
+afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean,
+with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to
+her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it
+away in her hand.
+
+Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot; the nightingale
+was gone. At last the woman came back, and said in a hollow voice,
+“Greet thee, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him
+loose at once.” Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before
+the woman and begged that she would give him back his Jorinda, but she
+said that he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he
+wept, he lamented, but all in vain, “Ah, what is to become of me?”
+
+Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village; there he
+kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the castle,
+but not too near to it. At last he dreamt one night that he found a
+blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a beautiful large pearl;
+that he picked the flower and went with it to the castle, and that
+everything he touched with the flower was freed from enchantment; he
+also dreamt that by means of it he recovered his Jorinda.
+
+In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and dale if
+he could find such a flower. He sought until the ninth day, and then,
+early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower. In the middle of
+it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest pearl.
+
+Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When he was
+within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but walked on to the
+door. Joringel was full of joy; he touched the door with the flower,
+and it sprang open. He walked in through the courtyard, and listened
+for the sound of the birds. At last he heard it. He went on and found
+the room from whence it came, and there the witch was feeding the birds
+in the seven thousand cages.
+
+When she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded and spat
+poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him.
+He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at the cages
+with the birds; but there were many hundred nightingales, how was he to
+find his Jorinda again?
+
+Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with a bird in
+it, and go towards the door.
+
+Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower, and
+also the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch any one; and
+Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she was as
+beautiful as ever!

content/library/grimm/070_the_three_sons_of_fortune.txt

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+The Three Sons of Fortune
+
+A father once called his three sons before him, and he gave to the
+first a cock, to the second a scythe, and to the third a cat. “I am
+already aged,” said he, “my death is nigh, and I have wished to take
+thought for you before my end; money I have not, and what I now give
+you seems of little worth, but all depends on your making a sensible
+use of it. Only seek out a country where such things are still unknown,
+and your fortune is made.”
+
+After the father’s death the eldest went away with his cock, but
+wherever he came the cock was already known; in the towns he saw him
+from a long distance, sitting upon the steeples and turning round with
+the wind, and in the villages he heard more than one crowing; no one
+would show any wonder at the creature, so that it did not look as if he
+would make his fortune by it.
+
+At last, however, it happened that he came to an island where the
+people knew nothing about cocks, and did not even understand how to
+divide their time. They certainly knew when it was morning or evening,
+but at night, if they did not sleep through it, not one of them knew
+how to find out the time.
+
+“Look!” said he, “what a proud creature! it has a ruby-red crown upon
+its head, and wears spurs like a knight; it calls you three times
+during the night, at fixed hours, and when it calls for the last time,
+the sun soon rises. But if it crows by broad daylight, then take
+notice, for there will certainly be a change of weather.”
+
+The people were well pleased; for a whole night they did not sleep, and
+listened with great delight as the cock at two, four, and six o’clock,
+loudly and clearly proclaimed the time. They asked if the creature were
+for sale, and how much he wanted for it? “About as much gold as an ass
+can carry,” answered he. “A ridiculously small price for such a
+precious creature!” they cried unanimously, and willingly gave him what
+he had asked.
+
+When he came home with his wealth his brothers were astonished, and the
+second said, “Well, I will go forth and see whether I cannot get rid of
+my scythe as profitably.” But it did not look as if he would, for
+labourers met him everywhere, and they had scythes upon their shoulders
+as well as he.
+
+At last, however, he chanced upon an island where the people knew
+nothing of scythes. When the corn was ripe there, they took cannon out
+to the fields and shot it down. Now this was rather an uncertain
+affair; many shot right over it, others hit the ears instead of the
+stems, and shot them away, whereby much was lost, and besides all this,
+it made a terrible noise. So the man set to work and mowed it down so
+quietly and quickly that the people opened their mouths with
+astonishment. They agreed to give him what he wanted for the scythe,
+and he received a horse laden with as much gold as it could carry.
+
+And now the third brother wanted to take his cat to the right man. He
+fared just like the others; so long as he stayed on the mainland there
+was nothing to be done. Every place had cats, and there were so many of
+them that new-born kittens were generally drowned in the ponds.
+
+At last he sailed over to an island, and it luckily happened that no
+cats had ever yet been seen there, and that the mice had got the upper
+hand so much that they danced upon the tables and benches whether the
+master were at home or not. The people complained bitterly of the
+plague; the King himself in his palace did not know how to secure
+himself against them; mice squeaked in every corner, and gnawed
+whatever they could lay hold of with their teeth. But now the cat began
+her chase, and soon cleared a couple of rooms, and the people begged
+the King to buy the wonderful beast for the country. The King willingly
+gave what was asked, which was a mule laden with gold, and the third
+brother came home with the greatest treasure of all.
+
+The cat made herself merry with the mice in the royal palace, and
+killed so many that they could not be counted. At last she grew warm
+with the work and thirsty, so she stood still, lifted up her head and
+cried, “Mew. Mew!” When they heard this strange cry, the King and all
+his people were frightened, and in their terror ran all at once out of
+the palace. Then the King took counsel what was best to be done; at
+last it was determined to send a herald to the cat, and demand that she
+should leave the palace, or if not, she was to expect that force would
+be used against her. The councillors said, “Rather will we let
+ourselves be plagued with the mice, for to that misfortune we are
+accustomed, than give up our lives to such a monster as this.” A noble
+youth, therefore, was sent to ask the cat “whether she would peaceably
+quit the castle?” But the cat, whose thirst had become still greater,
+merely answered, “Mew! Mew!” The youth understood her to say, “Most
+certainly not! most certainly not!” and took this answer to the King.
+“Then,” said the councillors, “she shall yield to force.” Cannon were
+brought out, and the palace was soon in flames. When the fire reached
+the room where the cat was sitting, she sprang safely out of the
+window; but the besiegers did not leave off until the whole palace was
+shot down to the ground.

content/library/grimm/071_how_six_men_got_on_in_the_world.txt

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+How Six Men Got on in the World
+
+There was once a man who understood all kinds of arts; he served in
+war, and behaved well and bravely, but when the war was over he
+received his dismissal, and three farthings for his expenses on the
+way. “Stop,” said he, “I shall not be content with this. If I can only
+meet with the right people, the King will yet have to give me all the
+treasure of the country.” Then full of anger he went into the forest,
+and saw a man standing therein who had plucked up six trees as if they
+were blades of corn. He said to him, “Wilt thou be my servant and go
+with me?” “Yes,” he answered, “but, first, I will take this little
+bundle of sticks home to my mother,” and he took one of the trees, and
+wrapped it round the five others, lifted the bundle on his back, and
+carried it away. Then he returned and went with his master, who said,
+“We two ought to be able to get through the world very well,” and when
+they had walked on for a short while they found a huntsman who was
+kneeling, had shouldered his gun, and was about to fire. The master
+said to him, “Huntsman, what art thou going to shoot?” He answered,
+“Two miles from here a fly is sitting on the branch of an oak-tree, and
+I want to shoot its left eye out.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man,
+“if we three are together, we certainly ought to be able to get on in
+the world!” The huntsman was ready, and went with him, and they came to
+seven windmills whose sails were turning round with great speed, and
+yet no wind was blowing either on the right or the left, and no leaf
+was stirring. Then said the man, “I know not what is driving the
+windmills, not a breath of air is stirring,” and he went onwards with
+his servants, and when they had walked two miles they saw a man sitting
+on a tree who was shutting one nostril, and blowing out of the other.
+“Good gracious! what are you doing up there?” He answered, “Two miles
+from here are seven windmills; look, I am blowing them till they turn
+round.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man. “If we four are together, we
+shall carry the whole world before us!” Then the blower came down and
+went with him, and after a while they saw a man who was standing on one
+leg and had taken off the other, and laid it beside him. Then the
+master said, “You have arranged things very comfortably to have a
+rest.” “I am a runner,” he replied, “and to stop myself running far too
+fast, I have taken off one of my legs, for if I run with both, I go
+quicker than any bird can fly.” “Oh, go with me. If we five are
+together, we shall carry the whole world before us.” So he went with
+them, and it was not long before they met a man who wore a cap, but had
+put it quite on one ear. Then the master said to him, “Gracefully,
+gracefully, don’t stick your cap on one ear, you look just like a
+tom-fool!” “I must not wear it otherwise,” said he, “for if I set my
+hat straight, a terrible frost comes on, and all the birds in the air
+are frozen, and drop dead on the ground.” “Oh, come with me,” said the
+master. “If we six are together, we can carry the whole world before
+us.”
+
+Now the six came to a town where the King had proclaimed that whosoever
+ran a race with his daughter and won the victory, should be her
+husband, but whosoever lost it, must lose his head. Then the man
+presented himself and said, “I will, however, let my servant run for
+me.” The King replied, “Then his life also must be staked, so that his
+head and thine are both set on the victory.” When that was settled and
+made secure, the man buckled the other leg on the runner, and said to
+him, “Now be nimble, and help us to win.” It was fixed that the one who
+was first to bring some water from a far distant well was to be the
+victor. The runner received a pitcher, and the King’s daughter one too,
+and they began to run at the same time, but in an instant, when the
+King’s daughter had got a very little way, the people who were looking
+on could see no more of the runner, and it was just as if the wind had
+whistled by. In a short time he reached the well, filled his pitcher
+with water, and turned back. Half-way home, however, he was overcome
+with fatigue, and set his pitcher down, lay down himself, and fell
+asleep. He had, however, made a pillow of a horse’s skull which was
+lying on the ground, in order that he might lie uncomfortably, and soon
+wake up again. In the meantime the King’s daughter, who could also run
+very well quite as well as any ordinary mortal can had reached the
+well, and was hurrying back with her pitcher full of water, and when
+she saw the runner lying there asleep, she was glad and said, “My enemy
+is delivered over into my hands,” emptied his pitcher, and ran on. And
+now all would have been lost if by good luck the huntsman had not been
+standing at the top of the castle, and had not seen everything with his
+sharp eyes. Then said he, “The King’s daughter shall still not prevail
+against us;” and he loaded his gun, and shot so cleverly, that he shot
+the horse’s skull away from under the runner’s head without hurting
+him. Then the runner awoke, leapt up, and saw that his pitcher was
+empty, and that the King’s daughter was already far in advance. He did
+not lose heart, however, but ran back to the well with his pitcher,
+again drew some water, and was at home again, ten minutes before the
+King’s daughter. “Behold!” said he, “I have not bestirred myself till
+now, it did not deserve to be called running before.”
+
+But it pained the King, and still more his daughter, that she should be
+carried off by a common disbanded soldier like that; so they took
+counsel with each other how to get rid of him and his companions. Then
+said the King to her, “I have thought of a way; don’t be afraid, they
+shall not come back again.” And he said to them, “You shall now make
+merry together, and eat and drink,” and he conducted them to a room
+which had a floor of iron, and the doors also were of iron, and the
+windows were guarded with iron bars. There was a table in the room
+covered with delicious food, and the King said to them, “Go in, and
+enjoy yourselves.” And when they were inside, he ordered the doors to
+be shut and bolted. Then he sent for the cook, and commanded him to
+make a fire under the room until the iron became red-hot. This the cook
+did, and the six who were sitting at table began to feel quite warm,
+and they thought the heat was caused by the food; but as it became
+still greater, and they wanted to get out, and found that the doors and
+windows were bolted, they became aware that the King must have an evil
+intention, and wanted to suffocate them. “He shall not succeed,
+however,” said the one with the cap. “I will cause a frost to come,
+before which the fire shall be ashamed, and creep away.” Then he put
+his cap on straight, and immediately there came such a frost that all
+heat disappeared, and the food on the dishes began to freeze. When an
+hour or two had passed by, and the King believed that they had perished
+in the heat, he had the doors opened to behold them himself. But when
+the doors were opened, all six were standing there, alive and well, and
+said that they should very much like to get out to warm themselves, for
+the very food was fast frozen to the dishes with the cold. Then, full
+of anger, the King went down to the cook, scolded him, and asked why he
+had not done what he had been ordered to do. But the cook replied,
+“There is heat enough there, just look yourself.” Then the King saw
+that a fierce fire was burning under the iron room, and perceived that
+there was no getting the better of the six in this way.
+
+Again the King considered how to get rid of his unpleasant guests, and
+caused their chief to be brought and said, “If thou wilt take gold and
+renounce my daughter, thou shalt have as much as thou wilt.”
+
+“Oh, yes, Lord King,” he answered, “give me as much as my servant can
+carry, and I will not ask for your daughter.”
+
+On this the King was satisfied, and the other continued, “In fourteen
+days, I will come and fetch it.” Thereupon he summoned together all the
+tailors in the whole kingdom, and they were to sit for fourteen days
+and sew a sack. And when it was ready, the strong one who could tear up
+trees had to take it on his back, and go with it to the King. Then said
+the King, “Who can that strong fellow be who is carrying a bundle of
+linen on his back that is as big as a house?” and he was alarmed and
+said, “What a lot of gold he can carry away!” Then he commanded a ton
+of gold to be brought; it took sixteen of his strongest men to carry
+it, but the strong one snatched it up in one hand, put it in his sack,
+and said, “Why don’t you bring more at the same time? that hardly
+covers the bottom!” Then, little by little, the King caused all his
+treasure to be brought thither, and the strong one pushed it into the
+sack, and still the sack was not half full with it. “Bring more,” cried
+he, “these few crumbs don’t fill it.” Then seven thousand carts with
+gold had to be gathered together in the whole kingdom, and the strong
+one thrust them and the oxen harnessed to them into his sack. “I will
+examine it no longer,” said he, “but will just take what comes, so long
+as the sack is but full.” When all that was inside, there was still
+room for a great deal more; then he said, “I will just make an end of
+the thing; people do sometimes tie up a sack even when it is not full.”
+So he took it on his back, and went away with his comrades. When the
+King now saw how one single man was carrying away the entire wealth of
+the country, he became enraged, and bade his horsemen mount and pursue
+the six, and ordered them to take the sack away from the strong one.
+Two regiments speedily overtook the six, and called out, “You are
+prisoners, put down the sack with the gold, or you will all be cut to
+pieces!” “What say you?” cried the blower, “that we are prisoners!
+Rather than that should happen, all of you shall dance about in the
+air.” And he closed one nostril, and with the other blew on the two
+regiments. Then they were driven away from each other, and carried into
+the blue sky over all the mountains one here, the other there. One
+sergeant cried for mercy; he had nine wounds, and was a brave fellow
+who did not deserve ill treatment. The blower stopped a little so that
+he came down without injury, and then the blower said to him, “Now go
+home to thy King, and tell him he had better send some more horsemen,
+and I will blow them all into the air.” When the King was informed of
+this he said, “Let the rascals go. They have the best of it.” Then the
+six conveyed the riches home, divided it amongst them, and lived in
+content until their death.

content/library/grimm/072_the_wolf_and_the_man.txt

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+The Wolf and the Man
+
+Once on a time the fox was talking to the wolf of the strength of man;
+how no animal could withstand him, and how all were obliged to employ
+cunning in order to preserve themselves from him. Then the wolf
+answered, “If I had but the chance of seeing a man for once, I would
+set on him notwithstanding.” “I can help thee to do that,” said the
+fox. “Come to me early to-morrow morning, and I will show thee one.”
+The wolf presented himself betimes, and the fox took him out on the
+road by which the huntsmen went daily. First came an old discharged
+soldier. “Is that a man?” inquired the wolf. “No,” answered the fox,
+“that was one.” Afterwards came a little boy who was going to school.
+“Is that a man?” “No, that is going to be one.” At length came a hunter
+with his double-barrelled gun at his back, and hanger by his side. Said
+the fox to the wolf, “Look, there comes a man, thou must attack him,
+but I will take myself off to my hole.” The wolf then rushed on the
+man. When the huntsman saw him he said, “It is a pity that I have not
+loaded with a bullet,” aimed, and fired his small shot in his face. The
+wolf pulled a very wry face, but did not let himself be frightened, and
+attacked him again, on which the huntsman gave him the second barrel.
+The wolf swallowed his pain, and rushed on the huntsman, but he drew
+out his bright hanger, and gave him a few cuts with it right and left,
+so that, bleeding everywhere, he ran howling back to the fox. “Well,
+brother wolf,” said the fox, “how hast thou got on with man?” “Ah!”
+replied the wolf, “I never imagined the strength of man to be what it
+is! First, he took a stick from his shoulder, and blew into it, and
+then something flew into my face which tickled me terribly; then he
+breathed once more into the stick, and it flew into my nose like
+lightning and hail; when I was quite close, he drew a white rib out of
+his side, and he beat me so with it that I was all but left lying
+dead.” “See what a braggart thou art!” said the fox. “Thou throwest thy
+hatchet so far that thou canst not fetch it back again!”

content/library/grimm/073_the_wolf_and_the_fox.txt

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+The Wolf and the Fox
+
+The wolf had the fox with him, and whatsoever the wolf wished, that the
+fox was compelled to do, for he was the weaker, and he would gladly
+have been rid of his master. It chanced that once as they were going
+through the forest, the wolf said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat,
+or else I will eat thee thyself.” Then the fox answered, “I know a
+farm-yard where there are two young lambs; if thou art inclined, we
+will fetch one of them.” That suited the wolf, and they went thither,
+and the fox stole the little lamb, took it to the wolf, and went away.
+The wolf devoured it, but was not satisfied with one; he wanted the
+other as well, and went to get it. As, however, he did it so awkwardly,
+the mother of the little lamb heard him, and began to cry out terribly,
+and to bleat so that the farmer came running there. They found the
+wolf, and beat him so mercilessly, that he went to the fox limping and
+howling. “Thou hast misled me finely,” said he; “I wanted to fetch the
+other lamb, and the country folks surprised me, and have beaten me to a
+jelly.” The fox replied, “Why art thou such a glutton?”
+
+Next day they again went into the country, and the greedy wolf once
+more said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat, or I will eat thee
+thyself.” Then answered the fox, “I know a farm-house where the wife is
+baking pancakes to-night; we will get some of them for ourselves.” They
+went there, and the fox slipped round the house, and peeped and sniffed
+about until he discovered where the dish was, and then drew down six
+pancakes and carried them to the wolf. “There is something for thee to
+eat,” said he to him, and then went his way. The wolf swallowed down
+the pancakes in an instant, and said, “They make one want more,” and
+went thither and tore the whole dish down so that it broke in pieces.
+This made such a great noise that the woman came out, and when she saw
+the wolf she called the people, who hurried there, and beat him as long
+as their sticks would hold together, till with two lame legs, and
+howling loudly, he got back to the fox in the forest. “How abominably
+thou hast misled me!” cried he, “the peasants caught me, and tanned my
+skin for me.” But the fox replied, “Why art thou such a glutton?”
+
+On the third day, when they were out together, and the wolf could only
+limp along painfully, he again said, “Red-fox, get me something to eat,
+or I will eat thee thyself.” The fox answered, “I know a man who has
+been killing, and the salted meat is lying in a barrel in the cellar;
+we will get that.” Said the wolf, “I will go when thou dost, that thou
+mayest help me if I am not able to get away.” “I am willing,” said the
+fox, and showed him the by-paths and ways by which at length they
+reached the cellar. There was meat in abundance, and the wolf attacked
+it instantly and thought, “There is plenty of time before I need leave
+off!” The fox liked it also, but looked about everywhere, and often ran
+to the hole by which they had come in, and tried if his body was still
+thin enough to slip through it. The wolf said, “Dear fox, tell me why
+thou art running here and there so much, and jumping in and out?”
+
+“I must see that no one is coming,” replied the crafty fellow. “Don’t
+eat too much!” Then said the wolf, “I shall not leave until the barrel
+is empty.” In the meantime the farmer, who had heard the noise of the
+fox’s jumping, came into the cellar. When the fox saw him he was out of
+the hole at one bound. The wolf wanted to follow him, but he had made
+himself so fat with eating that he could no longer get through, but
+stuck fast. Then came the farmer with a cudgel and struck him dead, but
+the fox bounded into the forest, glad to be rid of the old glutton.

content/library/grimm/074_the_fox_and_his_cousin.txt

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+The Fox and His Cousin
+
+The she-wolf brought forth a young one, and invited the fox to be
+godfather. “After all, he is a near relative of ours,” said she, “he
+has a good understanding, and much talent; he can instruct my little
+son, and help him forward in the world.” The fox, too, appeared quite
+honest, and said, “Worthy Mrs. Gossip, I thank you for the honour which
+you are doing me; I will, however, conduct myself in such a way that
+you shall be repaid for it.” He enjoyed himself at the feast, and made
+merry; afterwards he said, “Dear Mrs. Gossip, it is our duty to take
+care of the child, it must have good food that it may be strong. I know
+a sheep-fold from which we might fetch a nice morsel.” The wolf was
+pleased with the ditty, and she went out with the fox to the farm-yard.
+He pointed out the fold from afar, and said, “You will be able to creep
+in there without being seen, and in the meantime I will look about on
+the other side to see if I can pick up a chicken.” He, however, did not
+go there, but sat down at the entrance to the forest, stretched his
+legs and rested. The she-wolf crept into the stable. A dog was lying
+there, and it made such a noise that the peasants came running out,
+caught Gossip Wolf, and poured a strong burning mixture, which had been
+prepared for washing, over her skin. At last she escaped, and dragged
+herself outside. There lay the fox, who pretended to be full of
+complaints, and said, “Ah, dear Mistress Gossip, how ill I have fared,
+the peasants have fallen on me, and have broken every limb I have; if
+you do not want me to lie where I am and perish, you must carry me
+away.” The she-wolf herself was only able to go away slowly, but she
+was in such concern about the fox that she took him on her back, and
+slowly carried him perfectly safe and sound to her house. Then the fox
+cried to her, “Farewell, dear Mistress Gossip, may the roasting you
+have had do you good,” laughed heartily at her, and bounded off.

content/library/grimm/075_the_fox_and_the_cat.txt

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+The Fox and the Cat
+
+It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to
+herself, “He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the
+world,” she spoke to him in a friendly way. “Good-day, dear Mr. Fox,
+how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting through this dear
+season?” The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat
+from head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would
+give any answer or not. At last he said, “Oh, thou wretched
+beard-cleaner, thou piebald fool, thou hungry mouse-hunter, what canst
+thou be thinking of? Dost thou venture to ask how I am getting on? What
+hast thou learnt? How many arts dost thou understand?” “I understand
+but one,” replied the cat, modestly. “What art is that?” asked the fox.
+“When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and save
+myself.” “Is that all?” said the fox. “I am master of a hundred arts,
+and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning. Thou makest me sorry
+for thee; come with me, I will teach thee how people get away from the
+hounds.” Just then came a hunter with four dogs. The cat sprang nimbly
+up a tree, and sat down on top of it, where the branches and foliage
+quite concealed her. “Open your sack, Mr. Fox, open your sack,” cried
+the cat to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and were holding
+him fast. “Ah, Mr. Fox,” cried the cat. “You with your hundred arts are
+left in the lurch! Had you been able to climb like me, you would not
+have lost your life.”

content/library/grimm/076_the_pink.txt

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+The Pink
+
+There was once on a time a Queen to whom God had given no children.
+Every morning she went into the garden and prayed to God in heaven to
+bestow on her a son or a daughter. Then an angel from heaven came to
+her and said, “Be at rest, thou shalt have a son with the power of
+wishing, so that whatsoever in the world he wishes for, that shall he
+have.” Then she went to the King, and told him the joyful tidings, and
+when the time was come she gave birth to a son, and the King was filled
+with gladness. Every morning she went with the child to the garden
+where the wild beasts were kept, and washed herself there in a clear
+stream. It happened once when the child was a little older, that it was
+lying in her arms and she fell asleep. Then came the old cook, who knew
+that the child had the power of wishing, and stole it away, and he took
+a hen, and cut it in pieces, and dropped some of its blood on the
+Queen’s apron and on her dress. Then he carried the child away to a
+secret place, where a nurse was obliged to suckle it, and he ran to the
+King and accused the Queen of having allowed her child to be taken from
+her by the wild beasts. When the King saw the blood on her apron, he
+believed this, fell into such a passion that he ordered a high tower to
+be built, in which neither sun nor moon could be seen, and had his wife
+put into it, and walled up. Here she was to stay for seven years
+without meat or drink, and die of hunger. But God sent two angels from
+heaven in the shape of white doves, which flew to her twice a day, and
+carried her food until the seven years were over.
+
+The cook, however, thought to himself, “If the child has the power of
+wishing, and I am here, he might very easily get me into trouble.” So
+he left the palace and went to the boy, who was already big enough to
+speak, and said to him, “Wish for a beautiful palace for thyself with a
+garden, and all else that pertains to it.” Scarcely were the words out
+of the boy’s mouth, when everything was there that he had wished for.
+After a while the cook said to him, “It is not well for thee to be so
+alone, wish for a pretty girl as a companion.” Then the King’s son
+wished for one, and she immediately stood before him, and was more
+beautiful than any painter could have painted her. The two played
+together, and loved each other with all their hearts, and the old cook
+went out hunting like a nobleman. The thought, however, occurred to him
+that the King’s son might some day wish to be with his father, and thus
+bring him into great peril. So he went out and took the maiden aside,
+and said, “To-night when the boy is asleep, go to his bed and plunge
+this knife into his heart, and bring me his heart and tongue, and if
+thou dost not do it, thou shalt lose thy life.” Thereupon he went away,
+and when he returned next day she had not done it, and said, “Why
+should I shed the blood of an innocent boy who has never harmed any
+one?” The cook once more said, “If thou dost not do it, it shall cost
+thee thy own life.” When he had gone away, she had a little hind
+brought to her, and ordered her to be killed, and took her heart and
+tongue, and laid them on a plate, and when she saw the old man coming,
+she said to the boy, “Lie down in thy bed, and draw the clothes over
+thee.” Then the wicked wretch came in and said, “Where are the boy’s
+heart and tongue?” The girl reached the plate to him, but the King’s
+son threw off the quilt, and said, “Thou old sinner, why didst thou
+want to kill me? Now will I pronounce thy sentence. Thou shalt become a
+black poodle and have a gold collar round thy neck, and shalt eat
+burning coals, till the flames burst forth from thy throat.” And when
+he had spoken these words, the old man was changed into a poodle dog,
+and had a gold collar round his neck, and the cooks were ordered to
+bring up some live coals, and these he ate, until the flames broke
+forth from his throat. The King’s son remained there a short while
+longer, and he thought of his mother, and wondered if she were still
+alive. At length he said to the maiden, “I will go home to my own
+country; if thou wilt go with me, I will provide for thee.” “Ah,” she
+replied, “the way is so long, and what shall I do in a strange land
+where I am unknown?” As she did not seem quite willing, and as they
+could not be parted from each other, he wished that she might be
+changed into a beautiful pink, and took her with him. Then he went away
+to his own country, and the poodle had to run after him. He went to the
+tower in which his mother was confined, and as it was so high, he
+wished for a ladder which would reach up to the very top. Then he
+mounted up and looked inside, and cried, “Beloved mother, Lady Queen,
+are you still alive, or are you dead?” She answered, “I have just
+eaten, and am still satisfied,” for she thought the angels were there.
+Said he, “I am your dear son, whom the wild beasts were said to have
+torn from your arms; but I am alive still, and will speedily deliver
+you.” Then he descended again, and went to his father, and caused
+himself to be announced as a strange huntsman, and asked if he could
+give him a place. The King said yes, if he was skilful and could get
+game for him, he should come to him, but that deer had never taken up
+their quarters in any part of the district or country. Then the
+huntsman promised to procure as much game for him as he could possibly
+use at the royal table. So he summoned all the huntsmen together, and
+bade them go out into the forest with him. And he went with them and
+made them form a great circle, open at one end where he stationed
+himself, and began to wish. Two hundred deer and more came running
+inside the circle at once, and the huntsmen shot them. Then they were
+all placed on sixty country carts, and driven home to the King, and for
+once he was able to deck his table with game, after having had none at
+all for years.
+
+Now the King felt great joy at this, and commanded that his entire
+household should eat with him next day, and made a great feast. When
+they were all assembled together, he said to the huntsmen, “As thou art
+so clever, thou shalt sit by me.” He replied, “Lord King, your majesty
+must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman.” But the King insisted on it, and
+said, “Thou shalt sit by me,” until he did it. Whilst he was sitting
+there, he thought of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the
+King’s principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would ask
+how it was faring with the Queen in the tower, and if she were alive
+still, or had perished. Hardly had he formed the wish than the marshal
+began, and said, “Your majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the
+Queen living in the tower? Is she still alive, or has she died?” But
+the King replied, “She let my dear son be torn to pieces by wild
+beasts; I will not have her named.” Then the huntsman arose and said,
+“Gracious lord father, she is alive still, and I am her son, and I was
+not carried away by wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who
+tore me from her arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled her apron with
+the blood of a chicken.” Thereupon he took the dog with the golden
+collar, and said, “That is the wretch!” and caused live coals to be
+brought, and these the dog was compelled to devour before the sight of
+all, until flames burst forth from its throat. On this the huntsman
+asked the King if he would like to see the dog in his true shape, and
+wished him back into the form of the cook, in the which he stood
+immediately, with his white apron, and his knife by his side. When the
+King saw him he fell into a passion, and ordered him to be cast into
+the deepest dungeon. Then the huntsman spoke further and said, “Father,
+will you see the maiden who brought me up so tenderly and who was
+afterwards to murder me, but did not do it, though her own life
+depended on it?” The King replied, “Yes, I would like to see her.” The
+son said, “Most gracious father, I will show her to you in the form of
+a beautiful flower,” and he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought
+forth the pink, and placed it on the royal table, and it was so
+beautiful that the King had never seen one to equal it. Then the son
+said, “Now will I show her to you in her own form,” and wished that she
+might become a maiden, and she stood there looking so beautiful that no
+painter could have made her look more so.
+
+And the King sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the tower,
+to fetch the Queen and bring her to the royal table. But when she was
+led in she ate nothing, and said, “The gracious and merciful God who
+has supported me in the tower, will speedily deliver me.” She lived
+three days more, and then died happily, and when she was buried, the
+two white doves which had brought her food to the tower, and were
+angels of heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on her grave.
+The aged King ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief
+consumed the King’s own heart, and he soon died. His son married the
+beautiful maiden whom he had brought with him as a flower in his
+pocket, and whether they are still alive or not, is known to God.

content/library/grimm/077_clever_grethel.txt

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+Clever Grethel
+
+There was once a cook named Grethel, who wore shoes with red rosettes,
+and when she walked out with them on, she turned herself this way and
+that, and thought, “You certainly are a pretty girl!” And when she came
+home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, and as
+wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever she was
+cooking until she was satisfied, and said, “The cook must know what the
+food is like.”
+
+It came to pass that the master one day said to her, “Grethel, there is
+a guest coming this evening; prepare me two fowls very daintily.” “I
+will see to it, master,” answered Grethel. She killed two fowls,
+scalded them, plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening
+set them before the fire, that they might roast. The fowls began to
+turn brown, and were nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived.
+Then Grethel called out to her master, “If the guest does not come, I
+must take the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a
+shame if they are not eaten directly, when they are juiciest.” The
+master said, “I will run myself, and fetch the guest.” When the master
+had turned his back, Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on one side,
+and thought, “Standing so long by the fire there, makes one hot and
+thirsty; who knows when they will come? Meanwhile, I will run into the
+cellar, and take a drink.” She ran down, set a jug, said, “God bless it
+to thy use, Grethel,” and took a good drink, and took yet another
+hearty draught.
+
+Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted them,
+and drove the spit merrily round. But as the roast meat smelt so good,
+Grethel thought, “Something might be wrong, it ought to be tasted!” She
+touched it with her finger, and said, “Ah! how good fowls are! It
+certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten directly!” She
+ran to the window, to see if the master was not coming with his guest,
+but she saw no one, and went back to the fowls and thought, “One of the
+wings is burning! I had better take it off and eat it.” So she cut it
+off, ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she thought, “the
+other must go down too, or else master will observe that something is
+missing.” When the two wings were eaten, she went and looked for her
+master, and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to her, “Who knows?
+They are perhaps not coming at all, and have turned in somewhere.” Then
+she said, “Hallo, Grethel, enjoy yourself, one fowl has been cut into,
+take another drink, and eat it up entirely; when it is eaten you will
+have some peace, why should God’s good gifts be spoilt?” So she ran
+into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the one
+chicken in great glee. When one of the chickens was swallowed down, and
+still her master did not come, Grethel looked at the other and said,
+“Where one is, the other should be likewise, the two go together;
+what’s right for the one is right for the other; I think if I were to
+take another draught it would do me no harm.” So she took another
+hearty drink, and let the second chicken rejoin the first.
+
+While she was just in the best of the eating, her master came and
+cried, hurry up, “Haste thee, Grethel, the guest is coming directly
+after me!” “Yes, sir, I will soon serve up,” answered Grethel. Meantime
+the master looked to see that the table was properly laid, and took the
+great knife, wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and
+sharpened it on the steps. Presently the guest came, and knocked
+politely and courteously at the house-door. Grethel ran, and looked to
+see who was there, and when she saw the guest, she put her finger to
+her lips and said, “Hush! hush! get away as quickly as you can, if my
+master catches you it will be the worse for you; he certainly did ask
+you to supper, but his intention is to cut off your two ears. Just
+listen how he is sharpening the knife for it!” The guest heard the
+sharpening, and hurried down the steps again as fast as he could.
+Grethel was not idle; she ran screaming to her master, and cried, “You
+have invited a fine guest!” “Eh, why, Grethel? What do you mean by
+that?” “Yes,” said she, “he has taken the chickens which I was just
+going to serve up, off the dish, and has run away with them!” “That’s a
+nice trick!” said her master, and lamented the fine chickens. “If he
+had but left me one, so that something remained for me to eat.” He
+called to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Then he ran
+after him with the knife still in his hand, crying, “Just one, just
+one,” meaning that the guest should leave him just one chicken, and not
+take both. The guest, however, thought no otherwise than that he was to
+give up one of his ears, and ran as if fire were burning under him, in
+order to take them both home with him.

content/library/grimm/078_the_old_man_and_his_grandson.txt

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+The Old Man and His Grandson
+
+There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears dull
+of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could
+hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let
+it run out of his mouth. His son and his son’s wife were disgusted at
+this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind
+the stove, and they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not
+even enough of it. And he used to look towards the table with his eyes
+full of tears. Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl,
+and it fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded him, but he
+said nothing and only sighed. Then they bought him a wooden bowl for a
+few half-pence, out of which he had to eat.
+
+They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old
+began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground. “What are
+you doing there?” asked the father. “I am making a little trough,”
+answered the child, “for father and mother to eat out of when I am
+big.”
+
+The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently
+began to cry. Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and
+henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if
+he did spill a little of anything.

content/library/grimm/079_the_water_nix.txt

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+The Water-Nix
+
+A little brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while they
+were thus playing, they both fell in. A water-nix lived down below, who
+said, “Now I have got you, now you shall work hard for me!” and carried
+them off with her. She gave the girl dirty tangled flax to spin, and
+she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it, and the boy had
+to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and they got nothing to eat but
+dumplings as hard as stones. Then at last the children became so
+impatient, that they waited until one Sunday, when the nix was at
+church, and ran away. But when church was over, the nix saw that the
+birds were flown, and followed them with great strides. The children
+saw her from afar, and the girl threw a brush behind her which formed
+an immense hill of bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes,
+over which the nix was forced to scramble with great difficulty; at
+last, however, she got over. When the children saw this, the boy threw
+behind him a comb which made a great hill of combs with a thousand
+times a thousand teeth, but the nix managed to keep herself steady on
+them, and at last crossed over that. Then the girl threw behind her a
+looking-glass which formed a hill of mirrors, and was so slippery that
+it was impossible for the nix to cross it. Then she thought, “I will go
+home quickly and fetch my axe, and cut the hill of glass in half.” Long
+before she returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the
+children had escaped to a great distance, and the water-nix was obliged
+to betake herself to her well again.

content/library/grimm/080_the_death_of_the_little_hen.txt

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+The Death of the Little Hen
+
+Once upon a time the little hen went with the little cock to the
+nut-hill, and they agreed together that whichsoever of them found a
+kernel of a nut should share it with the other. Then the hen found a
+large, large nut, but said nothing about it, intending to eat the
+kernel herself. The kernel, however, was so large that she could not
+swallow it, and it remained sticking in her throat, so that she was
+alarmed lest she should be choked. Then she cried, “Cock, I entreat
+thee to run as fast thou canst, and fetch me some water, or I shall
+choke.” The little cock did run as fast as he could to the spring, and
+said, “Stream, thou art to give me some water; the little hen is lying
+on the nut-hill, and she has swallowed a large nut, and is choking.”
+The well answered, “First run to the bride, and get her to give thee
+some red silk.” The little cock ran to the bride and said, “Bride, you
+are to give me some red silk; I want to give red silk to the well, the
+well is to give me some water, I am to take the water to the little hen
+who is lying on the nut-hill and has swallowed a great nut-kernel, and
+is choking with it.” The bride answered, “First run and bring me my
+little wreath which is hanging to a willow.” So the little cock ran to
+the willow, and drew the wreath from the branch and took it to the
+bride, and the bride gave him some water for it. Then the little cock
+took the water to the hen, but when he got there the hen had choked in
+the meantime, and lay there dead and motionless. Then the cock was so
+distressed that he cried aloud, and every animal came to lament the
+little hen, and six mice built a little carriage to carry her to her
+grave, and when the carriage was ready they harnessed themselves to it,
+and the cock drove. On the way, however, they met the fox, who said,
+“Where art thou going, little cock?” “I am going to bury my little
+hen.” “May I drive with thee?” “Yes, but seat thyself at the back of
+the carriage, for in the front my little horses could not drag thee.”
+Then the fox seated himself at the back, and after that the wolf, the
+bear, the stag, the lion, and all the beasts of the forest did the
+same. Then the procession went onwards, and they reached the stream.
+“How are we to get over?” said the little cock. A straw was lying by
+the stream, and it said, “I will lay myself across, and you shall drive
+over me.” But when the six mice came to the bridge, the straw slipped
+and fell into the water, and the six mice all fell in and were drowned.
+Then they were again in difficulty, and a coal came and said, “I am
+large enough, I will lay myself across and you shall drive over me.” So
+the coal also laid itself across the water, but unhappily just touched
+it, on which the coal hissed, was extinguished and died. When a stone
+saw that, it took pity on the little cock, wished to help him, and laid
+itself over the water. Then the cock drew the carriage himself, but
+when he got it over and reached the other shore with the dead hen, and
+was about to draw over the others who were sitting behind as well,
+there were too many of them, the carriage ran back, and they all fell
+into the water together, and were drowned. Then the little cock was
+left alone with the dead hen, and dug a grave for her and laid her in
+it, and made a mound above it, on which he sat down and fretted until
+he died too, and then every one was dead.

content/library/grimm/081_brother_lustig.txt

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+Brother Lustig
+
+There was one on a time a great war, and when it came to an end, many
+soldiers were discharged. Then Brother Lustig also received his
+dismissal, and besides that, nothing but a small loaf of
+contract-bread, and four kreuzers in money, with which he departed. St.
+Peter had, however, placed himself in his way in the shape of a poor
+beggar, and when Brother Lustig came up, he begged alms of him. Brother
+Lustig replied, “Dear beggar-man, what am I to give you? I have been a
+soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing but this
+little loaf of contract-bread, and four kreuzers of money; when that is
+gone, I shall have to beg as well as you. Still I will give you
+something.” Thereupon he divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the
+apostle one of them, and a kreuzer likewise. St. Peter thanked him,
+went onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier’s way as a beggar,
+but in another shape; and when he came up begged a gift of him as
+before. Brother Lustig spoke as he had done before, and again gave him
+a quarter of the loaf and one kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and went
+onwards, but for the third time placed himself in another shape as a
+beggar on the road, and spoke to Brother Lustig. Brother Lustig gave
+him also the third quarter of bread and the third kreuzer. St. Peter
+thanked him, and Brother Lustig went onwards, and had but a quarter of
+the loaf, and one kreuzer. With that he went into an inn, ate the
+bread, and ordered one kreuzer’s worth of beer. When he had had it, he
+journeyed onwards, and then St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance
+of a discharged soldier, met and spoke to him thus: “Good day, comrade,
+canst thou not give me a bit of bread, and a kreuzer to get a drink?”
+“Where am I to procure it?” answered Brother Lustig; “I have been
+discharged, and I got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four
+kreuzers in money. I met three beggars on the road, and I gave each of
+them a quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer. The last quarter I ate in
+the inn, and had a drink with the last kreuzer. Now my pockets are
+empty, and if thou also hast nothing we can go a-begging together.”
+“No,” answered St. Peter, “we need not quite do that. I know a little
+about medicine, and I will soon earn as much as I require by that.”
+“Indeed,” said Brother Lustig, “I know nothing of that, so I must go
+and beg alone.” “Just come with me,” said St. Peter, “and if I earn
+anything, thou shalt have half of it.” “All right,” said Brother
+Lustig, so they went away together.
+
+Then they came to a peasant’s house inside which they heard loud
+lamentations and cries; so they went in, and there the husband was
+lying sick unto death, and very near his end, and his wife was crying
+and weeping quite loudly. “Stop that howling and crying,” said St.
+Peter, “I will make the man well again,” and he took a salve out of his
+pocket, and healed the sick man in a moment, so that he could get up,
+and was in perfect health. In great delight the man and his wife said,
+“How can we reward you? What shall we give you?” But St. Peter would
+take nothing, and the more the peasant folks offered him, the more he
+refused. Brother Lustig, however, nudged St. Peter, and said, “Take
+something; sure enough we are in need of it.” At length the woman
+brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he really must take that, but
+he would not. Then Brother Lustig gave him a poke in the side, and
+said, “Do take it, you stupid fool; we are in great want of it!” Then
+St. Peter said at last, “Well, I will take the lamb, but I won’t carry
+it; if thou wilt insist on having it, thou must carry it.” “That is
+nothing,” said Brother Lustig. “I will easily carry it,” and took it on
+his shoulder. Then they departed and came to a wood, but Brother Lustig
+had begun to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to St.
+Peter, “Look, that’s a good place, we might cook the lamb there, and
+eat it.” “As you like,” answered St. Peter, “but I can’t have anything
+to do with the cooking; if thou wilt cook, there is a kettle for thee,
+and in the meantime I will walk about a little until it is ready. Thou
+must, however, not begin to eat until I have come back, I will come at
+the right time.” “Well, go, then,” said Brother Lustig, “I understand
+cookery, I will manage it.” Then St. Peter went away, and Brother
+Lustig killed the lamb, lighted a fire, threw the meat into the kettle,
+and boiled it. The lamb was, however, quite ready, and the apostle
+Peter had not come back, so Brother Lustig took it out of the kettle,
+cut it up, and found the heart. “That is said to be the best part,”
+said he, and tasted it, but at last he ate it all up. At length St.
+Peter returned and said, “Thou mayst eat the whole of the lamb thyself,
+I will only have the heart, give me that.” Then Brother Lustig took a
+knife and fork, and pretended to look anxiously about amongst the
+lamb’s flesh, but not to be able to find the heart, and at last he said
+abruptly, “There is none here.” “But where can it be?” said the
+apostle. “I don’t know,” replied Brother Lustig, “but look, what fools
+we both are, to seek for the lamb’s heart, and neither of us to
+remember that a lamb has no heart!” “Oh,” said St. Peter, “that is
+something quite new! Every animal has a heart, why is a lamb to have
+none?” “No, be assured, my brother,” said Brother Lustig, “that a lamb
+has no heart; just consider it seriously, and then you will see that it
+really has none.” “Well, it is all right,” said St. Peter, “if there is
+no heart, then I want none of the lamb; thou mayst eat it alone.” “What
+I can’t eat now, I will carry away in my knapsack,” said Brother
+Lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and put the rest in his knapsack.
+
+They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great stream of water to
+flow right across their path, and they were obliged to pass through it.
+Said St. Peter, “Do thou go first.” “No,” answered Brother Lustig,
+“thou must go first,” and he thought, “if the water is too deep I will
+stay behind.” Then St. Peter strode through it, and the water just
+reached to his knee. So Brother Lustig began to go through also, but
+the water grew deeper and reached to his throat. Then he cried,
+“Brother, help me!” St. Peter said, “Then wilt thou confess that thou
+hast eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” said he, “I have not eaten it.”
+Then the water grew deeper still and rose to his mouth. “Help me,
+brother,” cried the soldier. St. Peter said, “Then wilt thou confess
+that thou hast eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” he replied, “I have not
+eaten it.” St. Peter, however, would not let him be drowned, but made
+the water sink and helped him through it.
+
+Then they journeyed onwards, and came to a kingdom where they heard
+that the King’s daughter lay sick unto death. “Hollo, brother!” said
+the soldier to St. Peter, “this is a chance for us; if we can heal her
+we shall be provided for, for life!” But St. Peter was not half quick
+enough for him, “Come, lift your legs, my dear brother,” said he, “that
+we may get there in time.” But St. Peter walked slower and slower,
+though Brother Lustig did all he could to drive and push him on, and at
+last they heard that the princess was dead. “Now we are done for!” said
+Brother Lustig; “that comes of thy sleepy way of walking!” “Just be
+quiet,” answered St. Peter, “I can do more than cure sick people; I can
+bring dead ones to life again.” “Well, if thou canst do that,” said
+Brother Lustig, “it’s all right, but thou shouldst earn at least half
+the kingdom for us by that.” Then they went to the royal palace, where
+every one was in great grief, but St. Peter told the King that he would
+restore his daughter to life. He was taken to her, and said, “Bring me
+a kettle and some water,” and when that was brought, he bade everyone
+go out, and allowed no one to remain with him but Brother Lustig. Then
+he cut off all the dead girl’s limbs, and threw them in the water,
+lighted a fire beneath the kettle, and boiled them. And when the flesh
+had fallen away from the bones, he took out the beautiful white bones,
+and laid them on a table, and arranged them together in their natural
+order. When he had done that, he stepped forward and said three times,
+“In the name of the holy Trinity, dead woman, arise.” And at the third
+time, the princess arose, living, healthy and beautiful. Then the King
+was in the greatest joy, and said to St. Peter, “Ask for thy reward;
+even if it were half my kingdom, I would give it thee.” But St. Peter
+said, “I want nothing for it.” “Oh, thou tomfool!” thought Brother
+Lustig to himself, and nudged his comrade’s side, and said, “Don’t be
+so stupid! If thou hast no need of anything, I have.” St. Peter,
+however, would have nothing, but as the King saw that the other would
+very much like to have something, he ordered his treasurer to fill
+Brother Lustig’s knapsack with gold. Then they went on their way, and
+when they came to a forest, St. Peter said to Brother Lustig, “Now, we
+will divide the gold.” “Yes,” he replied, “we will.” So St. Peter
+divided the gold, and divided it into three heaps. Brother Lustig
+thought to himself, “What craze has he got in his head now? He is
+making three shares, and there are only two of us!” But St. Peter said,
+“I have divided it exactly; there is one share for me, one for thee,
+and one for him who ate the lamb’s heart.”
+
+“Oh, I ate that!” replied Brother Lustig, and hastily swept up the
+gold. “You may trust what I say.” “But how can that be true,” said St.
+Peter, “when a lamb has no heart?” “Eh, what, brother, what can you be
+thinking of? Lambs have hearts like other animals, why should only they
+have none?” “Well, so be it,” said St. Peter, “keep the gold to
+yourself, but I will stay with you no longer; I will go my way alone.”
+“As you like, dear brother,” answered Brother Lustig. “Farewell.”
+
+Then St. Peter went a different road, but Brother Lustig thought, “It
+is a good thing that he has taken himself off, he is certainly a
+strange saint, after all.” Then he had money enough, but did not know
+how to manage it, squandered it, gave it away, and and when some time
+had gone by, once more had nothing. Then he arrived in a certain
+country where he heard that a King’s daughter was dead. “Oh, ho!”
+thought he, “that may be a good thing for me; I will bring her to life
+again, and see that I am paid as I ought to be.” So he went to the
+King, and offered to raise the dead girl to life again. Now the King
+had heard that a discharged soldier was traveling about and bringing
+dead persons to life again, and thought that Brother Lustig was the
+man; but as he had no confidence in him, he consulted his councillors
+first, who said that he might give it a trial as his daughter was dead.
+Then Brother Lustig ordered water to be brought to him in a kettle,
+bade every one go out, cut the limbs off, threw them in the water and
+lighted a fire beneath, just as he had seen St. Peter do. The water
+began to boil, the flesh fell off, and then he took the bones out and
+laid them on the table, but he did not know the order in which to lay
+them, and placed them all wrong and in confusion. Then he stood before
+them and said, “In the name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, I
+bid thee arise,” and he said this thrice, but the bones did not stir.
+So he said it thrice more, but also in vain: “Confounded girl that you
+are, get up!” cried he, “Get up, or it shall be worse for you!” When he
+had said that, St. Peter suddenly appeared in his former shape as a
+discharged soldier; he entered by the window and said, “Godless man,
+what art thou doing? How can the dead maiden arise, when thou hast
+thrown about her bones in such confusion?” “Dear brother, I have done
+everything to the best of my ability,” he answered. “This once, I will
+help thee out of thy difficulty, but one thing I tell thee, and that is
+that if ever thou undertakest anything of the kind again, it will be
+the worse for thee, and also that thou must neither demand nor accept
+the smallest thing from the King for this!” Thereupon St. Peter laid
+the bones in their right order, said to the maiden three times, “In the
+name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, arise,” and the King’s
+daughter arose, healthy and beautiful as before. Then St. Peter went
+away again by the window, and Brother Lustig was rejoiced to find that
+all had passed off so well, but was very much vexed to think that after
+all he was not to take anything for it. “I should just like to know,”
+thought he, “what fancy that fellow has got in his head, for what he
+gives with one hand he takes away with the other there is no sense
+whatever in it!” Then the King offered Brother Lustig whatsoever he
+wished to have, but he did not dare to take anything; however, by hints
+and cunning, he contrived to make the King order his knapsack to be
+filled with gold for him, and with that he departed. When he got out,
+St. Peter was standing by the door, and said, “Just look what a man
+thou art; did I not forbid thee to take anything, and there thou hast
+thy knapsack full of gold!” “How can I help that,” answered Brother
+Lustig, “if people will put it in for me?” “Well, I tell thee this,
+that if ever thou settest about anything of this kind again thou shalt
+suffer for it!” “Eh, brother, have no fear, now I have money, why
+should I trouble myself with washing bones?” “Faith,” said St. Peter,
+“the gold will last a long time! In order that after this thou mayst
+never tread in forbidden paths, I will bestow on thy knapsack this
+property, namely, that whatsoever thou wishest to have inside it, shall
+be there. Farewell, thou wilt now never see me more.” “Good-bye,” said
+Brother Lustig, and thought to himself, “I am very glad that thou hast
+taken thyself off, thou strange fellow; I shall certainly not follow
+thee.” But of the magical power which had been bestowed on his
+knapsack, he thought no more.
+
+Brother Lustig travelled about with his money, and squandered and
+wasted what he had as before. When at last he had no more than four
+kreuzers, he passed by an inn and thought, “The money must go,” and
+ordered three kreuzers’ worth of wine and one kreuzer’s worth of bread
+for himself. As he was sitting there drinking, the smell of roast goose
+made its way to his nose. Brother Lustig looked about and peeped, and
+saw that the host had two geese standing in the oven. Then he
+remembered that his comrade had said that whatsoever he wished to have
+in his knapsack should be there, so he said, “Oh, ho! I must try that
+with the geese.” So he went out, and when he was outside the door, he
+said, “I wish those two roasted geese out of the oven and in my
+knapsack,” and when he had said that, he unbuckled it and looked in,
+and there they were inside it. “Ah, that’s right!” said he, “now I am a
+made man!” and went away to a meadow and took out the roast meat. When
+he was in the midst of his meal, two journeymen came up and looked at
+the second goose, which was not yet touched, with hungry eyes. Brother
+Lustig thought to himself, “One is enough for me,” and called the two
+men up and said, “Take the goose, and eat it to my health.” They
+thanked him, and went with it to the inn, ordered themselves a half
+bottle of wine and a loaf, took out the goose which had been given
+them, and began to eat. The hostess saw them and said to her husband,
+“Those two are eating a goose; just look and see if it is not one of
+ours, out of the oven.” The landlord ran thither, and behold the oven
+was empty! “What!” cried he, “you thievish crew, you want to eat goose
+as cheap as that? Pay for it this moment; or I will wash you well with
+green hazel-sap.” The two said, “We are no thieves, a discharged
+soldier gave us the goose, outside there in the meadow.” “You shall not
+throw dust in my eyes that way! the soldier was here but he went out by
+the door, like an honest fellow. I looked after him myself; you are the
+thieves and shall pay!” But as they could not pay, he took a stick, and
+cudgeled them out of the house.
+
+Brother Lustig went his way and came to a place where there was a
+magnificent castle, and not far from it a wretched inn. He went to the
+inn and asked for a night’s lodging, but the landlord turned him away,
+and said, “There is no more room here, the house is full of noble
+guests.” “It surprises me that they should come to you and not go to
+that splendid castle,” said Brother Lustig. “Ah, indeed,” replied the
+host, “but it is no slight matter to sleep there for a night; no one
+who has tried it so far, has ever come out of it alive.”
+
+“If others have tried it,” said Brother Lustig, “I will try it too.”
+
+“Leave it alone,” said the host, “it will cost you your neck.” “It
+won’t kill me at once,” said Brother Lustig, “just give me the key, and
+some good food and wine.” So the host gave him the key, and food and
+wine, and with this Brother Lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his
+supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on the ground, for
+there was no bed. He soon fell asleep, but during the night was
+disturbed by a great noise, and when he awoke, he saw nine ugly devils
+in the room, who had made a circle, and were dancing around him.
+Brother Lustig said, “Well, dance as long as you like, but none of you
+must come too close.” But the devils pressed continually nearer to him,
+and almost stepped on his face with their hideous feet. “Stop, you
+devils’ ghosts,” said he, but they behaved still worse. Then Brother
+Lustig grew angry, and cried, “Hola! but I will soon make it quiet,”
+and got the leg of a chair and struck out into the midst of them with
+it. But nine devils against one soldier were still too many, and when
+he struck those in front of him, the others seized him behind by the
+hair, and tore it unmercifully. “Devils’ crew,” cried he, “it is
+getting too bad, but wait. Into my knapsack, all nine of you!” In an
+instant they were in it, and then he buckled it up and threw it into a
+corner. After this all was suddenly quiet, and Brother Lustig lay down
+again, and slept till it was bright day. Then came the inn-keeper, and
+the nobleman to whom the castle belonged, to see how he had fared; but
+when they perceived that he was merry and well they were astonished,
+and asked, “Have the spirits done you no harm, then?” “The reason why
+they have not,” answered Brother Lustig, “is because I have got the
+whole nine of them in my knapsack! You may once more inhabit your
+castle quite tranquilly, none of them will ever haunt it again.” The
+nobleman thanked him, made him rich presents, and begged him to remain
+in his service, and he would provide for him as long as he lived. “No,”
+replied Brother Lustig, “I am used to wandering about, I will travel
+farther.” Then he went away, and entered into a smithy, laid the
+knapsack, which contained the nine devils on the anvil, and asked the
+smith and his apprentices to strike it. So they smote with their great
+hammers with all their strength, and the devils uttered howls which
+were quite pitiable. When he opened the knapsack after this, eight of
+them were dead, but one which had been lying in a fold of it, was still
+alive, slipped out, and went back again to hell. Thereupon Brother
+Lustig travelled a long time about the world, and those who know them
+can tell many a story about him, but at last he grew old, and thought
+of his end, so he went to a hermit who was known to be a pious man, and
+said to him, “I am tired of wandering about, and want now to behave in
+such a manner that I shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” The
+hermit replied, “There are two roads, one is broad and pleasant, and
+leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough, and leads to heaven.” “I
+should be a fool,” thought Brother Lustig, “if I were to take the
+narrow, rough road.” So he set out and took the broad and pleasant
+road, and at length came to a great black door, which was the door of
+Hell. Brother Lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out to see who
+was there. But when he saw Brother Lustig, he was terrified, for he was
+the very same ninth devil who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had
+escaped from it with a black eye. So he pushed the bolt in again as
+quickly as he could, ran to the devil’s lieutenant, and said, “There is
+a fellow outside with a knapsack, who wants to come in, but as you
+value your lives don’t allow him to enter, or he will wish the whole of
+hell into his knapsack. He once gave me a frightful hammering when I
+was inside it.” So they called out to Brother Lustig that he was to go
+away again, for he should not get in there! “If they won’t have me
+here,” thought he, “I will see if I can find a place for myself in
+heaven, for I must be somewhere.” So he turned about and went onwards
+until he came to the door of Heaven, where he knocked. St. Peter was
+sitting hard by as door-keeper. Brother Lustig recognised him at once,
+and thought, “Here I find an old friend, I shall get on better.” But
+St. Peter said, “I really believe that thou wantest to come into
+Heaven.” “Let me in, brother; I must get in somewhere; if they would
+have taken me into Hell, I should not have come here.” “No,” said St.
+Peter, “thou shalt not enter.” “Then if thou wilt not let me in, take
+thy knapsack back, for I will have nothing at all from thee.” “Give it
+here, then,” said St. Peter. Then Brother Lustig gave him the knapsack
+into Heaven through the bars, and St. Peter took it, and hung it beside
+his seat. Then said Brother Lustig, “And now I wish myself inside my
+knapsack,” and in a second he was in it, and in Heaven, and St. Peter
+was forced to let him stay there.

content/library/grimm/082_gambling_hansel.txt

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+Gambling Hansel
+
+Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but gamble, and for
+that reason people never called him anything but Gambling Hansel, and
+as he never ceased to gamble, he played away his house and all that he
+had. Now the very day before his creditors were to take his house from
+him, came the Lord and St. Peter, and asked him to give them shelter
+for the night. Then Gambling Hansel said, “For my part, you may stay
+the night, but I cannot give you a bed or anything to eat.” So the Lord
+said he was just to take them in, and they themselves would buy
+something to eat, to which Gambling Hansel made no objection. Thereupon
+St. Peter gave him three groschen, and said he was to go to the baker’s
+and fetch some bread. So Gambling Hansel went, but when he reached the
+house where the other gambling vagabonds were gathered together, they,
+although they had won all that he had, greeted him clamorously, and
+said, “Hansel, do come in.” “Oh,” said he, “do you want to win the
+three groschen too?” On this they would not let him go. So he went in,
+and played away the three groschen also. Meanwhile St. Peter and the
+Lord were waiting, and as he was so long in coming, they set out to
+meet him. When Gambling Hansel came, however, he pretended that the
+money had fallen into the gutter, and kept raking about in it all the
+while to find it, but our Lord already knew that he had lost it in
+play. St. Peter again gave him three groschen, and now he did not allow
+himself to be led away once more, but fetched them the loaf. Our Lord
+then inquired if he had no wine, and he said, “Alack, sir, the casks
+are all empty!” But the Lord said he was to go down into the cellar,
+for the best wine was still there. For a long time he would not believe
+this, but at length he said, “Well, I will go down, but I know that
+there is none there.” When he turned the tap, however, lo and behold,
+the best of wine ran out! So he took it to them, and the two passed the
+night there. Early next day our Lord told Gambling Hansel that he might
+beg three favours. The Lord expected that he would ask to go to Heaven;
+but Gambling Hansel asked for a pack of cards with which he could win
+everything, for dice with which he would win everything, and for a tree
+whereon every kind of fruit would grow, and from which no one who had
+climbed up, could descend until he bade him do so. The Lord gave him
+all that he had asked, and departed with St. Peter.
+
+And now Gambling Hansel at once set about gambling in real earnest, and
+before long he had gained half the world. Upon this St. Peter said to
+the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on, he will win, and thou lose,
+the whole world. We must send Death to him.” When Death appeared,
+Gambling Hansel had just seated himself at the gaming-table, and Death
+said, “Hansel, come out a while.” But Gambling Hansel said, “Just wait
+a little until the game is done, and in the meantime get up into that
+tree out there, and gather a little fruit that we may have something to
+munch on our way.” Thereupon Death climbed up, but when he wanted to
+come down again, he could not, and Gambling Hansel left him up there
+for seven years, during which time no one died.
+
+So St. Peter said to the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on. People
+no longer die; we must go ourselves.” And they went themselves, and the
+Lord commanded Hansel to let Death come down. So Hansel went at once to
+Death and said to him, “Come down,” and Death took him directly and put
+an end to him. They went away together and came to the next world, and
+then Gambling Hansel made straight for the door of Heaven, and knocked
+at it. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, we will have nothing to
+do with him! Begone!” So he went to the door of Purgatory, and knocked
+once more. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, there is quite
+enough weeping and wailing here without him. We do not want to gamble,
+just go away again.” Then he went to the door of Hell, and there they
+let him in. There was, however, no one at home but old Lucifer and the
+crooked devils who had just been doing their evil work in the world.
+And no sooner was Hansel there than he sat down to gamble again.
+Lucifer, however, had nothing to lose, but his mis-shapen devils, and
+Gambling Hansel won them from him, as with his cards he could not fail
+to do. And now he was off again with his crooked devils, and they went
+to Hohenfuert and pulled up a hop-pole, and with it went to Heaven and
+began to thrust the pole against it, and Heaven began to crack. So
+again St. Peter said, “Lord, this thing cannot go on, we must let him
+in, or he will throw us down from Heaven.” And they let him in. But
+Gambling Hansel instantly began to play again, and there was such a
+noise and confusion that there was no hearing what they themselves were
+saying. Therefore St. Peter once more said, “Lord, this cannot go on,
+we must throw him down, or he will make all Heaven rebellious.” So they
+went to him at once, and threw him down, and his soul broke into
+fragments, and went into the gambling vagabonds who are living this
+very day.

content/library/grimm/083_hans_in_luck.txt

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+Hans in Luck
+
+Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him, “Master,
+my time is up; now I should be glad to go back home to my mother; give
+me my wages.” The master answered, “You have served me faithfully and
+honestly; as the service was so shall the reward be;” and he gave Hans
+a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his handkerchief out of
+his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on his shoulder, and set
+out on the way home.
+
+As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a
+horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. “Ah!” said
+Hans quite loud, “what a fine thing it is to ride! There you sit as on
+a chair; you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and get on,
+you don’t know how.”
+
+The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, “Hollo! Hans, why
+do you go on foot, then?”
+
+“I must,” answered he, “for I have this lump to carry home; it is true
+that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it
+hurts my shoulder.”
+
+“I will tell you what,” said the rider, “we will exchange: I will give
+you my horse, and you can give me your lump.”
+
+“With all my heart,” said Hans, “but I can tell you, you will have to
+crawl along with it.”
+
+The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up; then gave him
+the bridle tight in his hands and said, “If you want to go at a really
+good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!”
+
+Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so
+bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go
+faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!”
+The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew where he
+was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated the field
+from the highway. The horse would have gone off too if it had not been
+stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road and driving a
+cow before him.
+
+Hans got his limbs together and stood up on his legs again, but he was
+vexed, and said to the countryman, “It is a poor joke, this riding,
+especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks and
+throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one’s neck. Never
+again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk quietly
+behind her, and have, over and above, one’s milk, butter and cheese
+every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a cow.”
+“Well,” said the countryman, “if it would give you so much pleasure, I
+do not mind giving the cow for the horse.” Hans agreed with the
+greatest delight; the countryman jumped upon the horse, and rode
+quickly away.
+
+Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky
+bargain. “If only I have a morsel of bread—and that can hardly fail
+me—I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like; if I am
+thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. Good heart, what more
+can I want?”
+
+When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great content ate up
+what he had with him—his dinner and supper—and all he had, and with his
+last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove his cow
+onwards along the road to his mother’s village.
+
+As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans found
+himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross. He felt it
+very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with thirst. “I
+can find a cure for this,” thought Hans; “I will milk the cow now and
+refresh myself with the milk.” He tied her to a withered tree, and as
+he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath; but try as he would,
+not a drop of milk came. And as he set himself to work in a clumsy way,
+the impatient beast at last gave him such a blow on his head with its
+hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and for a long time could not
+think where he was.
+
+By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a
+wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig. “What sort of a trick is this?”
+cried he, and helped the good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened.
+The butcher gave him his flask and said, “Take a drink and refresh
+yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old beast; at
+the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.” “Well,
+well,” said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, “who would
+have thought it? Certainly it is a fine thing when one can kill a beast
+like that at home; what meat one has! But I do not care much for beef,
+it is not juicy enough for me. A young pig like that now is the thing
+to have, it tastes quite different; and then there are the sausages!”
+
+“Hark ye, Hans,” said the butcher, “out of love for you I will
+exchange, and will let you have the pig for the cow.” “Heaven repay you
+for your kindness!” said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was
+unbound from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in
+his hand.
+
+Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as
+he wished; if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set
+right. Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine white
+goose under his arm. They said good morning to each other, and Hans
+began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such good
+bargains. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a
+christening-feast. “Just lift her,” added he, and laid hold of her by
+the wings; “how heavy she is—she has been fattened up for the last
+eight weeks. Whoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will have to
+wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth.” “Yes,” said Hans, as he
+weighed her in one hand, “she is a good weight, but my pig is no bad
+one.”
+
+Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and
+shook his head. “Look here,” he said at length, “it may not be all
+right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the Mayor
+himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear—I fear that you
+have got hold of it there. They have sent out some people and it would
+be a bad business if they caught you with the pig; at the very least,
+you would be shut up in the dark hole.”
+
+The good Hans was terrified. “Goodness!” he said, “help me out of this
+fix; you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave me
+your goose.” “I shall risk something at that game,” answered the lad,
+“but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble.” So he took
+the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a by-path.
+
+The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under his
+arm. “When I think over it properly,” said he to himself, “I have even
+gained by the exchange; first there is the good roast-meat, then the
+quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give me
+dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the beautiful
+white feathers; I will have my pillow stuffed with them, and then
+indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking. How glad my mother will
+be!”
+
+As he was going through the last village, there stood a
+scissors-grinder with his barrow; as his wheel whirred he sang—
+
+“I sharpen scissors and quickly grind,
+My coat blows out in the wind behind.”
+
+
+Hans stood still and looked at him; at last he spoke to him and said,
+“All’s well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding.” “Yes,”
+answered the scissors-grinder, “the trade has a golden foundation. A
+real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket
+finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?”
+
+“I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.”
+
+“And the pig?”
+
+“That I got for a cow.”
+
+“And the cow?”
+
+“I took that instead of a horse.”
+
+“And the horse?”
+
+“For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.”
+
+“And the gold?”
+
+“Well, that was my wages for seven years’ service.”
+
+“You have known how to look after yourself each time,” said the
+grinder. “If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle in
+your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your fortune.”
+
+“How shall I manage that?” said Hans. “You must be a grinder, as I am;
+nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds
+itself. I have one here; it is certainly a little worn, but you need
+not give me anything for it but your goose; will you do it?”
+
+“How can you ask?” answered Hans. “I shall be the luckiest fellow on
+earth; if I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, what need I
+trouble about any longer?” and he handed him the goose and received the
+grindstone in exchange. “Now,” said the grinder, as he took up an
+ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, “here is a strong stone for you
+into the bargain; you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your old
+nails. Take it with you and keep it carefully.”
+
+Hans loaded himself with the stones, and went on with a contented
+heart; his eyes shone with joy. “I must have been born with a caul,” he
+cried; “everything I want happens to me just as if I were a
+Sunday-child.”
+
+Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel
+tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain by
+which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once. At
+last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced to stop
+every minute; the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully. Then he
+could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to carry
+them just then.
+
+He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that
+he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but in
+order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid them
+carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down on it,
+and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed against the
+stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans saw them with
+his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt
+down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having shown him this
+favour also, and delivered him in so good a way, and without his having
+any need to reproach himself, from those heavy stones which had been
+the only things that troubled him.
+
+“There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I,” he cried out. With a
+light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was with
+his mother at home.

content/library/grimm/084_hans_married.txt

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+Hans Married
+
+There was once upon a time a young peasant named Hans, whose uncle
+wanted to find him a rich wife. He therefore seated Hans behind the
+stove, and had it made very hot. Then he fetched a pot of milk and
+plenty of white bread, gave him a bright newly-coined farthing in his
+hand, and said, “Hans, hold that farthing fast, crumble the white bread
+into the milk, and stay where you are, and do not stir from that spot
+till I come back.” “Yes,” said Hans, “I will do all that.” Then the
+wooer put on a pair of old patched trousers, went to a rich peasant’s
+daughter in the next village, and said, “Won’t you marry my nephew
+Hans—you will get an honest and sensible man who will suit you?” The
+covetous father asked, “How is it with regard to his means? Has he
+bread to break?” “Dear friend,” replied the wooer, “my young nephew has
+a snug berth, a nice bit of money in hand, and plenty of bread to
+break, besides he has quite as many patches as I have,” (and as he
+spoke, he slapped the patches on his trousers, but in that district
+small pieces of land were called patches also.) “If you will give
+yourself the trouble to go home with me, you shall see at once that all
+is as I have said.” Then the miser did not want to lose this good
+opportunity, and said, “If that is the case, I have nothing further to
+say against the marriage.”
+
+So the wedding was celebrated on the appointed day, and when the young
+wife went out of doors to see the bridegroom’s property, Hans took off
+his Sunday coat and put on his patched smock-frock and said, “I might
+spoil my good coat.” Then together they went out and wherever a
+boundary line came in sight, or fields and meadows were divided from
+each other, Hans pointed with his finger and then slapped either a
+large or a small patch on his smock-frock, and said, “That patch is
+mine, and that too, my dearest, just look at it,” meaning thereby that
+his wife should not stare at the broad land, but look at his garment,
+which was his own.
+
+“Were you indeed at the wedding?” “Yes, indeed I was there, and in full
+dress. My head-dress was of snow; then the sun came out, and it was
+melted. My coat was of cobwebs, and I had to pass by some thorns which
+tore it off me, my shoes were of glass, and I pushed against a stone
+and they said, “Klink,” and broke in two.

content/library/grimm/085_the_gold_children.txt

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+The Gold-Children
+
+There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a little
+cottage, and who earned their bread by fishing, and always lived from
+hand to mouth. But it came to pass one day when the man was sitting by
+the water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out a fish entirely
+of gold. As he was looking at the fish, full of astonishment, it began
+to speak and said, “Hark you, fisherman, if you will throw me back
+again into the water, I will change your little hut into a splendid
+castle.” Then the fisherman answered, “Of what use is a castle to me,
+if I have nothing to eat?” The gold fish continued, “That shall be
+taken care of, there will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when
+you open it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of
+them as you can desire.” “If that be true,” said the man, “then I can
+well do you a favour.” “Yes,” said the fish, “there is, however, the
+condition that you shall disclose to no one in the world, whosoever he
+may be, whence your good luck has come, if you speak but one single
+word, all will be over.” Then the man threw the wonderful fish back
+again into the water, and went home. But where his hovel had formerly
+stood, now stood a great castle. He opened wide his eyes, entered, and
+saw his wife dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room,
+and she was quite delighted, and said, “Husband, how has all this come
+to pass? It suits me very well.” “Yes,” said the man, “it suits me too,
+but I am frightfully hungry, just give me something to eat.” Said the
+wife, “But I have got nothing and don’t know where to find anything in
+this new house.” “There is no need of your knowing,” said the man, “for
+I see yonder a great cupboard, just unlock it.” When she opened it,
+there stood cakes, meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect.
+
+Then the woman cried joyfully, “What more can you want, my dear?” and
+they sat down, and ate and drank together. When they had had enough,
+the woman said, “But husband, whence come all these riches?” “Alas,”
+answered he, “do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you
+anything; if I disclose it to any one, then all our good fortune will
+fly.” “Very good,” said she, “if I am not to know anything, then I do
+not want to know anything.” However, she was not in earnest; she never
+rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience
+he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful golden fish which he had
+caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty. And as soon as
+the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately
+disappeared, they were once more in the old fisherman’s hut, and the
+man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish. But fortune would
+so have it, that he once more drew out the golden fish. “Listen,” said
+the fish, “if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once
+more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled
+meats; only be firm, for your life’s sake don’t reveal from whom you
+have it, or you will lose it all again!” “I will take good care,”
+answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water. Now at
+home everything was once more in its former magnificence, and the wife
+was overjoyed at their good fortune, but curiosity left her no peace,
+so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come
+to pass, and how he had managed to secure it. The man kept silence for
+a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out, and
+betrayed the secret. In an instant the castle disappeared, and they
+were back again in their old hut. “Now you have got what you want,”
+said he; “and we can gnaw at a bare bone again.” “Ah,” said the woman,
+“I had rather not have riches if I am not to know from whom they come,
+for then I have no peace.”
+
+The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the
+gold fish for a third time. “Listen,” said the fish, “I see very well
+that I am fated to fall into your hands, take me home and cut me into
+six pieces; give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse and
+bury two of them in the ground, then they will bring you a blessing.”
+The fisherman took the fish home with him, and did as it had bidden
+him. It came to pass, however, that from the two pieces that were
+buried in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the horse had
+two golden foals, and the fisherman’s wife bore two children who were
+made entirely of gold. The children grew up, became tall and handsome,
+and the lilies and horses grew likewise. Then they said, “Father, we
+want to mount our golden steeds and travel out in the world.” But he
+answered sorrowfully, “How shall I bear it if you go away, and I know
+not how it fares with you?” Then they said, “The two golden lilies
+remain here. By them you can see how it is with us; if they are fresh,
+then we are in health; if they are withered, we are ill; if they
+perish, then we are dead.” So they rode forth and came to an inn, in
+which were many people, and when they perceived the gold-children they
+began to laugh, and jeer. When one of them heard the mocking he felt
+ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went
+home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a
+great forest. As he was about to enter it, the people said, It is not
+safe for you to ride through, the wood is full of robbers who would
+treat you badly. You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all
+of gold, and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.’
+
+But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, “I must and
+will ride through it.” Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and
+his horse with them, so that the gold was no more to be seen, and rode
+fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little he heard
+a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together. From one
+side came cries of, “There is one,” but from the other, “Let him go,
+’tis an idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse, what should we
+gain from him?”
+
+So the gold-child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell
+him. One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so
+beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she
+existed in the world. And as such a mighty love took possession of him,
+he went up to her and said, “I love thee with my whole heart, wilt thou
+be my wife?” He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and
+said, “Yes, I will be thy wife, and be true to thee my whole life
+long.” Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest
+happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when he saw that his
+daughter’s wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said,
+“Where is the bridegroom?” They showed him the gold-child, who,
+however, still wore his bear-skins. Then the father said wrathfully, “A
+vagabond shall never have my daughter!” and was about to kill him. Then
+the bride begged as hard as she could, and said, “He is my husband, and
+I love him with all my heart!” until at last he allowed himself to be
+appeased. Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next
+morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter’s husband
+was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent
+golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground.
+Then he went back and thought, “What a good thing it was that I
+restrained my anger! I should have committed a great crime.” But the
+gold-child dreamed that he rode out to hunt a splendid stag, and when
+he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, “I must go out hunting.”
+She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, “You might
+easily meet with a great misfortune,” but he answered, “I must and will
+go.”
+
+Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest, and it was not
+long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his
+dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He
+gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling
+tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when
+the gold-child looked round him, he was standing before a little house,
+wherein was a witch. He knocked, and a little old woman came out and
+asked, “What are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest?”
+“Have you not seen a stag?” “Yes,” answered she, “I know the stag
+well,” and thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with
+her, barked at the man violently. “Wilt thou be silent, thou odious
+toad,” said he, “or I will shoot thee dead.” Then the witch cried out
+in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately
+transformed him, so that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him
+in vain and thought, “That which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so
+heavily on my heart, has come upon him!” But at home the other brother
+was standing by the gold-lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped.
+“Good heavens!” said he, “my brother has met with some great
+misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.” Then the
+father said, “Stay here, if I lose you also, what shall I do?” But he
+answered, “I must and will go forth!”
+
+Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and entered the great
+forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old witch came out
+of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also, but he did not
+go near her, and said, “I will shoot you, if you will not bring my
+brother to life again.” She touched the stone, though very unwillingly,
+with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to his human
+shape. But the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw each other
+again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of
+the forest, the one home to his bride, and the other to his father. The
+father then said, “I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for
+the golden lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again.” Then they
+lived happily, and all prospered with them until their death.

content/library/grimm/086_the_fox_and_the_geese.txt

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+The Fox and the Geese
+
+The fox once came to a meadow in which was a flock of fine fat geese,
+on which he smiled and said, “I come in the nick of time, you are
+sitting together quite beautifully, so that I can eat you up one after
+the other.” The geese cackled with terror, sprang up, and began to wail
+and beg piteously for their lives. But the fox would listen to nothing,
+and said, “There is no mercy to be had! You must die.” At length one of
+them took heart and said, “If we poor geese are to yield up our
+vigorous young lives, show us the only possible favour and allow us one
+more prayer, that we may not die in our sins, and then we will place
+ourselves in a row, so that you can always pick yourself out the
+fattest.” “Yes,” said the fox, “that is reasonable, and a pious
+request. Pray away, I will wait till you are done.” Then the first
+began a good long prayer, for ever saying, “Ga! Ga!” and as she would
+make no end, the second did not wait until her turn came, but began
+also, “Ga! Ga!” The third and fourth followed her, and soon they were
+all cackling together.
+
+When they have done praying, the story shall be continued further, but
+at present they are still praying without stopping.”

content/library/grimm/087_the_poor_man_and_the_rich_man.txt

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+The Poor Man and the Rich Man
+
+In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on this
+earth amongst men, it once happened that he was tired and overtaken by
+the darkness before he could reach an inn. Now there stood on the road
+before him two houses facing each other; the one large and beautiful,
+the other small and poor. The large one belonged to a rich man, and the
+small one to a poor man.
+
+Then the Lord thought, “I shall be no burden to the rich man, I will
+stay the night with him.” When the rich man heard some one knocking at
+his door, he opened the window and asked the stranger what he wanted.
+The Lord answered, “I only ask for a night’s lodging.”
+
+Then the rich man looked at the traveler from head to foot, and as the
+Lord was wearing common clothes, and did not look like one who had much
+money in his pocket, he shook his head, and said, “No, I cannot take
+you in, my rooms are full of herbs and seeds; and if I were to lodge
+everyone who knocked at my door, I might very soon go begging myself.
+Go somewhere else for a lodging,” and with this he shut down the window
+and left the Lord standing there.
+
+So the Lord turned his back on the rich man, and went across to the
+small house and knocked. He had hardly done so when the poor man opened
+the little door and bade the traveler come in. “Pass the night with me,
+it is already dark,” said he; “you cannot go any further to-night.”
+This pleased the Lord, and he went in. The poor man’s wife shook hands
+with him, and welcomed him, and said he was to make himself at home and
+put up with what they had got; they had not much to offer him, but what
+they had they would give him with all their hearts. Then she put the
+potatoes on the fire, and while they were boiling, she milked the goat,
+that they might have a little milk with them. When the cloth was laid,
+the Lord sat down with the man and his wife, and he enjoyed their
+coarse food, for there were happy faces at the table. When they had had
+supper and it was bed-time, the woman called her husband apart and
+said, “Hark you, dear husband, let us make up a bed of straw for
+ourselves to-night, and then the poor traveler can sleep in our bed and
+have a good rest, for he has been walking the whole day through, and
+that makes one weary.” “With all my heart,” he answered, “I will go and
+offer it to him;” and he went to the stranger and invited him, if he
+had no objection, to sleep in their bed and rest his limbs properly.
+But the Lord was unwilling to take their bed from the two old folks;
+however, they would not be satisfied, until at length he did it and lay
+down in their bed, while they themselves lay on some straw on the
+ground.
+
+Next morning they got up before daybreak, and made as good a breakfast
+as they could for the guest. When the sun shone in through the little
+window, and the Lord had got up, he again ate with them, and then
+prepared to set out on his journey.
+
+But as he was standing at the door he turned round and said, “As you
+are so kind and good, you may wish three things for yourselves and I
+will grant them.” Then the man said, “What else should I wish for but
+eternal happiness, and that we two, as long as we live, may be healthy
+and have every day our daily bread; for the third wish, I do not know
+what to have.” And the Lord said to him, “Will you wish for a new house
+instead of this old one?” “Oh, yes,” said the man; “if I can have that,
+too, I should like it very much.” And the Lord fulfilled his wish, and
+changed their old house into a new one, again gave them his blessing,
+and went on.
+
+The sun was high when the rich man got up and leaned out of his window
+and saw, on the opposite side of the way, a new clean-looking house
+with red tiles and bright windows where the old hut used to be. He was
+very much astonished, and called his wife and said to her, “Tell me,
+what can have happened? Last night there was a miserable little hut
+standing there, and to-day there is a beautiful new house. Run over and
+see how that has come to pass.”
+
+So his wife went and asked the poor man, and he said to her, “Yesterday
+evening a traveler came here and asked for a night’s lodging, and this
+morning when he took leave of us he granted us three wishes—eternal
+happiness, health during this life and our daily bread as well, and
+besides this, a beautiful new house instead of our old hut.”
+
+When the rich man’s wife heard this, she ran back in haste and told her
+husband how it had happened. The man said, “I could tear myself to
+pieces! If I had but known that! That traveler came to our house too,
+and wanted to sleep here, and I sent him away.” “Quick!” said his wife,
+“get on your horse. You can still catch the man up, and then you must
+ask to have three wishes granted to you.”
+
+The rich man followed the good counsel and galloped away on his horse,
+and soon came up with the Lord. He spoke to him softly and pleasantly,
+and begged him not to take it amiss that he had not let him in
+directly; he was looking for the front-door key, and in the meantime
+the stranger had gone away, if he returned the same way he must come
+and stay with him. “Yes,” said the Lord; “if I ever come back again, I
+will do so.” Then the rich man asked if might not wish for three things
+too, as his neighbor had done? “Yes,” said the Lord, he might, but it
+would not be to his advantage, and he had better not wish for anything;
+but the rich man thought that he could easily ask for something which
+would add to his happiness, if he only knew that it would be granted.
+So the Lord said to him, “Ride home, then, and three wishes which you
+shall form, shall be fulfilled.”
+
+The rich man had now gained what he wanted, so he rode home, and began
+to consider what he should wish for. As he was thus thinking he let the
+bridle fall, and the horse began to caper about, so that he was
+continually disturbed in his meditations, and could not collect his
+thoughts at all. He patted its neck, and said, “Gently, Lisa,” but the
+horse only began new tricks. Then at last he was angry, and cried quite
+impatiently, “I wish your neck was broken!” Directly he had said the
+words, down the horse fell on the ground, and there it lay dead and
+never moved again. And thus was his first wish fulfilled. As he was
+miserly by nature, he did not like to leave the harness lying there; so
+he cut it off, and put it on his back; and now he had to go on foot. “I
+have still two wishes left,” said he, and comforted himself with that
+thought.
+
+And now as he was walking slowly through the sand, and the sun was
+burning hot at noon-day, he grew quite hot-tempered and angry. The
+saddle hurt his back, and he had not yet any idea what to wish for. “If
+I were to wish for all the riches and treasures in the world,” said he
+to himself, “I should still to think of all kinds of other things later
+on, I know that, beforehand. But I will manage so that there is nothing
+at all left me to wish for afterwards.” Then he sighed and said, “Ah,
+if I were but that Bavarian peasant, who likewise had three wishes
+granted to him, and knew quite well what to do, and in the first place
+wished for a great deal of beer, and in the second for as much beer as
+he was able to drink, and in the third for a barrel of beer into the
+bargain.”
+
+Many a time he thought he had found it, but then it seemed to him to
+be, after all, too little. Then it came into his mind, what an easy
+life his wife had, for she stayed at home in a cool room and enjoyed
+herself. This really did vex him, and before he was aware, he said, “I
+just wish she was sitting there on this saddle, and could not get off
+it, instead of my having to drag it along on my back.” And as the last
+word was spoken, the saddle disappeared from his back, and he saw that
+his second wish had been fulfilled. Then he really did feel warm. He
+began to run and wanted to be quite alone in his own room at home, to
+think of something really large for his last wish. But when he arrived
+there and opened the parlour-door, he saw his wife sitting in the
+middle of the room on the saddle, crying and complaining, and quite
+unable to get off it. So he said, “Do bear it, and I will wish for all
+the riches on earth for thee, only stay where thou art.” She, however,
+called him a fool, and said, “What good will all the riches on earth do
+me, if I am to sit on this saddle? Thou hast wished me on it, so thou
+must help me off.” So whether he would or not, he was forced to let his
+third wish be that she should be quit of the saddle, and able to get
+off it, and immediately the wish was fulfilled. So he got nothing by it
+but vexation, trouble, abuse, and the loss of his horse; but the poor
+people lived happily, quietly, and piously until their happy death.

content/library/grimm/088_the_singing_springing_lark.txt

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+The Singing, Springing Lark
+
+There was once on a time a man who was about to set out on a long
+journey, and on parting he asked his three daughters what he should
+bring back with him for them. Whereupon the eldest wished for pearls,
+the second wished for diamonds, but the third said, “Dear father, I
+should like a singing, soaring lark.” The father said, “Yes, if I can
+get it, you shall have it,” kissed all three, and set out. Now when the
+time had come for him to be on his way home again, he had brought
+pearls and diamonds for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in
+vain for a singing, soaring lark for the youngest, and he was very
+unhappy about it, for she was his favorite child. Then his road lay
+through a forest, and in the midst of it was a splendid castle, and
+near the castle stood a tree, but quite on the top of the tree, he saw
+a singing, soaring lark. “Aha, you come just at the right moment!” he
+said, quite delighted, and called to his servant to climb up and catch
+the little creature. But as he approached the tree, a lion leapt from
+beneath it, shook himself, and roared till the leaves on the trees
+trembled. “He who tries to steal my singing, soaring lark,” he cried,
+“will I devour.” Then the man said, “I did not know that the bird
+belonged to thee. I will make amends for the wrong I have done and
+ransom myself with a large sum of money, only spare my life.” The lion
+said, “Nothing can save thee, unless thou wilt promise to give me for
+mine own what first meets thee on thy return home; and if thou wilt do
+that, I will grant thee thy life, and thou shalt have the bird for thy
+daughter, into the bargain.” But the man hesitated and said, “That
+might be my youngest daughter, she loves me best, and always runs to
+meet me on my return home.” The servant, however, was terrified and
+said, “Why should your daughter be the very one to meet you, it might
+as easily be a cat, or dog?” Then the man allowed himself to be
+over-persuaded, took the singing, soaring lark, and promised to give
+the lion whatsoever should first meet him on his return home.
+
+When he reached home and entered his house, the first who met him was
+no other than his youngest and dearest daughter, who came running up,
+kissed and embraced him, and when she saw that he had brought with him
+a singing, soaring lark, she was beside herself with joy. The father,
+however, could not rejoice, but began to weep, and said, “My dearest
+child, I have bought the little bird dear. In return for it, I have
+been obliged to promise thee to a savage lion, and when he has thee he
+will tear thee in pieces and devour thee,” and he told her all, just as
+it had happened, and begged her not to go there, come what might. But
+she consoled him and said, “Dearest father, indeed your promise must be
+fulfilled. I will go thither and soften the lion, so that I may return
+to thee safely.” Next morning she had the road pointed out to her, took
+leave, and went fearlessly out into the forest. The lion, however, was
+an enchanted prince and was by day a lion, and all his people were
+lions with him, but in the night they resumed their natural human
+shapes. On her arrival she was kindly received and led into the castle.
+When night came, the lion turned into a handsome man, and their wedding
+was celebrated with great magnificence. They lived happily together,
+remained awake at night, and slept in the daytime. One day he came and
+said, “To-morrow there is a feast in thy father’s house, because your
+eldest sister is to be married, and if thou art inclined to go there,
+my lions shall conduct thee.” She said, “Yes, I should very much like
+to see my father again,” and went thither, accompanied by the lions.
+There was great joy when she arrived, for they had all believed that
+she had been torn in pieces by the lion, and had long ceased to live.
+But she told them what a handsome husband she had, and how well off she
+was, remained with them while the wedding-feast lasted, and then went
+back again to the forest. When the second daughter was about to be
+married, and she was again invited to the wedding, she said to the
+lion, “This time I will not be alone, thou must come with me.” The
+lion, however, said that it was too dangerous for him, for if when
+there a ray from a burning candle fell on him, he would be changed into
+a dove, and for seven years long would have to fly about with the
+doves. She said, “Ah, but do come with me, I will take great care of
+thee, and guard thee from all light.” So they went away together, and
+took with them their little child as well. She had a chamber built
+there, so strong and thick that no ray could pierce through it; in this
+he was to shut himself up when the candles were lit for the
+wedding-feast. But the door was made of green wood which warped and
+left a little crack which no one noticed. The wedding was celebrated
+with magnificence, but when the procession with all its candles and
+torches came back from church, and passed by this apartment, a ray
+about the breadth of a hair fell on the King’s son, and when this ray
+touched him, he was transformed in an instant, and when she came in and
+looked for him, she did not see him, but a white dove was sitting
+there. The dove said to her, “For seven years must I fly about the
+world, but at every seventh step that you take I will let fall a drop
+of red blood and a white feather, and these will show thee the way, and
+if thou followest the trace thou canst release me.” Thereupon the dove
+flew out at the door, and she followed him, and at every seventh step a
+red drop of blood and a little white feather fell down and showed her
+the way.
+
+So she went continually further and further in the wide world, never
+looking about her or resting, and the seven years were almost past;
+then she rejoiced and thought that they would soon be delivered, and
+yet they were so far from it! Once when they were thus moving onwards,
+no little feather and no drop of red blood fell, and when she raised
+her eyes the dove had disappeared. And as she thought to herself, “In
+this no man can help thee,” she climbed up to the sun, and said to him,
+“Thou shinest into every crevice, and over every peak, hast thou not
+seen a white dove flying?” “No,” said the sun, “I have seen none, but I
+present thee with a casket, open it when thou art in sorest need.” Then
+she thanked the sun, and went on until evening came and the moon
+appeared; she then asked her, “Thou shinest the whole night through,
+and on every field and forest, hast thou not seen a white dove flying?”
+“No,” said the moon, “I have seen no dove, but here I give thee an egg,
+break it when thou art in great need.” She thanked the moon, and went
+on until the night wind came up and blew on her, then she said to it,
+“Thou blowest over every tree and under every leaf, hast thou not seen
+a white dove flying?” “No,” said the night wind, “I have seen none, but
+I will ask the three other winds, perhaps they have seen it.” The east
+wind and the west wind came, and had seen nothing, but the south wind
+said, “I have seen the white dove, it has flown to the Red Sea, where
+it has become a lion again, for the seven years are over, and the lion
+is there fighting with a dragon; the dragon, however, is an enchanted
+princess.” The night wind then said to her, “I will advise thee; go to
+the Red Sea, on the right bank are some tall reeds, count them, break
+off the eleventh, and strike the dragon with it, then the lion will be
+able to subdue it, and both then will regain their human form. After
+that, look round and thou wilt see the griffin which is by the Red Sea;
+swing thyself, with thy beloved, on to his back, and the bird will
+carry you over the sea to your own home. Here is a nut for thee, when
+thou are above the center of the sea, let the nut fall, it will
+immediately shoot up, and a tall nut-tree will grow out of the water on
+which the griffin may rest; for if he cannot rest, he will not be
+strong enough to carry you across, and if thou forgettest to throw down
+the nut, he will let you fall into the sea.”
+
+Then she went thither, and found everything as the night wind had said.
+She counted the reeds by the sea, and cut off the eleventh, struck the
+dragon therewith, whereupon the lion overcame it, and immediately both
+of them regained their human shapes. But when the princess, who had
+before been the dragon, was delivered from enchantment, she took the
+youth by the arm, seated herself on the griffin, and carried him off
+with her. There stood the poor maiden who had wandered so far and was
+again forsaken. She sat down and cried, but at last she took courage
+and said, “Still I will go as far as the wind blows and as long as the
+cock crows, until I find him,” and she went forth by long, long roads,
+until at last she came to the castle where both of them were living
+together; there she heard that soon a feast was to be held, in which
+they would celebrate their wedding, but she said, “God still helps me,”
+and opened the casket that the sun had given her. A dress lay therein
+as brilliant as the sun itself. So she took it out and put it on, and
+went up into the castle, and everyone, even the bride herself, looked
+at her with astonishment. The dress pleased the bride so well that she
+thought it might do for her wedding-dress, and asked if it was for
+sale? “Not for money or land,” answered she, “but for flesh and blood.”
+The bride asked her what she meant by that, so she said, “Let me sleep
+a night in the chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.” The bride would
+not, yet wanted very much to have the dress; at last she consented, but
+the page was to give the prince a sleeping-draught. When it was night,
+therefore, and the youth was already asleep, she was led into the
+chamber; she seated herself on the bed and said, “I have followed after
+thee for seven years. I have been to the sun and the moon, and the four
+winds, and have enquired for thee, and have helped thee against the
+dragon; wilt thou, then quite forget me?” But the prince slept so
+soundly that it only seemed to him as if the wind were whistling
+outside in the fir-trees. When therefore day broke, she was led out
+again, and had to give up the golden dress. And as that even had been
+of no avail, she was sad, went out into a meadow, sat down there, and
+wept. While she was sitting there, she thought of the egg which the
+moon had given her; she opened it, and there came out a clucking hen
+with twelve chickens all of gold, and they ran about chirping, and
+crept again under the old hen’s wings; nothing more beautiful was ever
+seen in the world! Then she arose, and drove them through the meadow
+before her, until the bride looked out of the window. The little
+chickens pleased her so much that she immediately came down and asked
+if they were for sale. “Not for money or land, but for flesh and blood;
+let me sleep another night in the chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.”
+The bride said, “Yes,” intending to cheat her as on the former evening.
+But when the prince went to bed he asked the page what the murmuring
+and rustling in the night had been? On this the page told all; that he
+had been forced to give him a sleeping-draught, because a poor girl had
+slept secretly in the chamber, and that he was to give him another that
+night. The prince said, “Pour out the draught by the bed-side.” At
+night, she was again led in, and when she began to relate how ill all
+had fared with her, he immediately recognized his beloved wife by her
+voice, sprang up and cried, “Now I really am released! I have been as
+it were in a dream, for the strange princess has bewitched me so that I
+have been compelled to forget thee, but God has delivered me from the
+spell at the right time.” Then they both left the castle secretly in
+the night, for they feared the father of the princess, who was a
+sorcerer, and they seated themselves on the griffin which bore them
+across the Red Sea, and when they were in the midst of it, she let fall
+the nut. Immediately a tall nut-tree grew up, whereon the bird rested,
+and then carried them home, where they found their child, who had grown
+tall and beautiful, and they lived thenceforth happily until their
+death.

content/library/grimm/089_the_goose_girl.txt

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+The Goose-Girl
+
+There was once upon a time an old Queen whose husband had been dead for
+many years, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess grew up
+she was betrothed to a prince who lived at a great distance. When the
+time came for her to be married, and she had to journey forth into the
+distant kingdom, the aged Queen packed up for her many costly vessels
+of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and silver; and cups and
+jewels, in short, everything which appertained to a royal dowry, for
+she loved her child with all her heart. She likewise sent her maid in
+waiting, who was to ride with her, and hand her over to the bridegroom,
+and each had a horse for the journey, but the horse of the King’s
+daughter was called Falada, and could speak. So when the hour of
+parting had come, the aged mother went into her bedroom, took a small
+knife and cut her finger with it until it bled, then she held a white
+handkerchief to it into which she let three drops of blood fall, gave
+it to her daughter and said, “Dear child, preserve this carefully, it
+will be of service to you on your way.”
+
+So they took a sorrowful leave of each other; the princess put the
+piece of cloth in her bosom, mounted her horse, and then went away to
+her bridegroom. After she had ridden for a while she felt a burning
+thirst, and said to her waiting-maid, “Dismount, and take my cup which
+thou hast brought with thee for me, and get me some water from the
+stream, for I should like to drink.” “If you are thirsty,” said the
+waiting-maid, “get off your horse yourself, and lie down and drink out
+of the water, I don’t choose to be your servant.” So in her great
+thirst the princess alighted, bent down over the water in the stream
+and drank, and was not allowed to drink out of the golden cup. Then she
+said, “Ah, Heaven!” and the three drops of blood answered, “If thy
+mother knew, her heart would break.” But the King’s daughter was
+humble, said nothing, and mounted her horse again. She rode some miles
+further, but the day was warm, the sun scorched her, and she was
+thirsty once more, and when they came to a stream of water, she again
+cried to her waiting-maid, “Dismount, and give me some water in my
+golden cup,” for she had long ago forgotten the girl’s ill words. But
+the waiting-maid said still more haughtily, “If you wish to drink,
+drink as you can, I don’t choose to be your maid.” Then in her great
+thirst the King’s daughter alighted, bent over the flowing stream, wept
+and said, “Ah, Heaven!” and the drops of blood again replied, “If thy
+mother knew this, her heart would break.” And as she was thus drinking
+and leaning right over the stream, the handkerchief with the three
+drops of blood fell out of her bosom, and floated away with the water
+without her observing it, so great was her trouble. The waiting-maid,
+however, had seen it, and she rejoiced to think that she had now power
+over the bride, for since the princess had lost the drops of blood, she
+had become weak and powerless. So now when she wanted to mount her
+horse again, the one that was called Falada, the waiting-maid said,
+“Falada is more suitable for me, and my nag will do for thee” and the
+princess had to be content with that. Then the waiting-maid, with many
+hard words, bade the princess exchange her royal apparel for her own
+shabby clothes; and at length she was compelled to swear by the clear
+sky above her, that she would not say one word of this to any one at
+the royal court, and if she had not taken this oath she would have been
+killed on the spot. But Falada saw all this, and observed it well.
+
+The waiting-maid now mounted Falada, and the true bride the bad horse,
+and thus they traveled onwards, until at length they entered the royal
+palace. There were great rejoicings over her arrival, and the prince
+sprang forward to meet her, lifted the waiting-maid from her horse, and
+thought she was his consort. She was conducted upstairs, but the real
+princess was left standing below. Then the old King looked out of the
+window and saw her standing in the courtyard, and how dainty and
+delicate and beautiful she was, and instantly went to the royal
+apartment, and asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was
+standing down below in the courtyard, and who she was? “I picked her up
+on my way for a companion; give the girl something to work at, that she
+may not stand idle.” But the old King had no work for her, and knew of
+none, so he said, “I have a little boy who tends the geese, she may
+help him.” The boy was called Conrad, and the true bride had to help
+him to tend the geese. Soon afterwards the false bride said to the
+young King, “Dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favour.” He
+answered, “I will do so most willingly.” “Then send for the knacker,
+and have the head of the horse on which I rode here cut off, for it
+vexed me on the way.” In reality, she was afraid that the horse might
+tell how she had behaved to the King’s daughter. Then she succeeded in
+making the King promise that it should be done, and the faithful Falada
+was to die; this came to the ears of the real princess, and she
+secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of gold if he would
+perform a small service for her. There was a great dark-looking gateway
+in the town, through which morning and evening she had to pass with the
+geese: would he be so good as to nail up Falada’s head on it, so that
+she might see him again, more than once. The knacker’s man promised to
+do that, and cut off the head, and nailed it fast beneath the dark
+gateway.
+
+Early in the morning, when she and Conrad drove out their flock beneath
+this gateway, she said in passing,
+
+“Alas, Falada, hanging there!”
+
+
+Then the head answered,
+
+“Alas, young Queen, how ill you fare!
+If this your tender mother knew,
+Her heart would surely break in two.”
+
+
+Then they went still further out of the town, and drove their geese
+into the country. And when they had come to the meadow, she sat down
+and unbound her hair which was like pure gold, and Conrad saw it and
+delighted in its brightness, and wanted to pluck out a few hairs. Then
+she said,
+
+“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
+Blow Conrad’s little hat away,
+And make him chase it here and there,
+Until I have braided all my hair,
+And bound it up again.”
+
+
+And there came such a violent wind that it blew Conrad’s hat far away
+across country, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back
+she had finished combing her hair and was putting it up again, and he
+could not get any of it. Then Conrad was angry, and would not speak to
+her, and thus they watched the geese until the evening, and then they
+went home.
+
+Next day when they were driving the geese out through the dark gateway,
+the maiden said,
+
+“Alas, Falada, hanging there!”
+
+
+Falada answered,
+
+“Alas, young Queen, how ill you fare!
+If this your tender mother knew,
+Her heart would surely break in two.”
+
+
+And she sat down again in the field and began to comb out her hair, and
+Conrad ran and tried to clutch it, so she said in haste,
+
+“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
+Blow Conrad’s little hat away,
+And make him chase it here and there,
+Until I have braided all my hair,
+And bound it up again.”
+
+
+Then the wind blew, and blew his little hat off his head and far away,
+and Conrad was forced to run after it, and when he came back, her hair
+had been put up a long time, and he could get none of it, and so they
+looked after their geese till evening came.
+
+But in the evening after they had got home, Conrad went to the old
+King, and said, “I won’t tend the geese with that girl any longer!”
+“Why not?” inquired the aged King. “Oh, because she vexes me the whole
+day long.” Then the aged King commanded him to relate what it was that
+she did to him. And Conrad said, “In the morning when we pass beneath
+the dark gateway with the flock, there is a sorry horse’s head on the
+wall, and she says to it,
+
+“Alas, Falada, hanging there!”
+
+
+And the head replies,
+
+“Alas, young Queen how ill you fare!
+If this your tender mother knew,
+Her heart would surely break in two.”
+
+
+And Conrad went on to relate what happened on the goose pasture, and
+how when there he had to chase his hat.
+
+The aged King commanded him to drive his flock out again next day, and
+as soon as morning came, he placed himself behind the dark gateway, and
+heard how the maiden spoke to the head of Falada, and then he too went
+into the country, and hid himself in the thicket in the meadow. There
+he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and the goose-boy bringing
+their flock, and how after a while she sat down and unplaited her hair,
+which shone with radiance. And soon she said,
+
+“Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
+Blow Conrad’s little hat away,
+And make him chase it here and there,
+Until I have braided all my hair,
+And bound it up again.”
+
+
+Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad’s hat, so that he had
+to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and plaiting
+her hair, all of which the King observed. Then, quite unseen, he went
+away, and when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her
+aside, and asked why she did all these things. “I may not tell you
+that, and I dare not lament my sorrows to any human being, for I have
+sworn not to do so by the heaven which is above me; if I had not done
+that, I should have lost my life.” He urged her and left her no peace,
+but he could draw nothing from her. Then said he, “If thou wilt not
+tell me anything, tell thy sorrows to the iron-stove there,” and he
+went away. Then she crept into the iron-stove, and began to weep and
+lament, and emptied her whole heart, and said, “Here am I deserted by
+the whole world, and yet I am a King’s daughter, and a false
+waiting-maid has by force brought me to such a pass that I have been
+compelled to put off my royal apparel, and she has taken my place with
+my bridegroom, and I have to perform menial service as a goose-girl. If
+my mother did but know that, her heart would break.”
+
+The aged King, however, was standing outside by the pipe of the stove,
+and was listening to what she said, and heard it. Then he came back
+again, and bade her come out of the stove. And royal garments were
+placed on her, and it was marvellous how beautiful she was! The aged
+King summoned his son, and revealed to him that he had got the false
+bride who was only a waiting-maid, but that the true one was standing
+there, as the sometime goose-girl. The young King rejoiced with all his
+heart when he saw her beauty and youth, and a great feast was made
+ready to which all the people and all good friends were invited. At the
+head of the table sat the bridegroom with the King’s daughter at one
+side of him, and the waiting-maid on the other, but the waiting-maid
+was blinded, and did not recognize the princess in her dazzling array.
+When they had eaten and drunk, and were merry, the aged King asked the
+waiting-maid as a riddle, what a person deserved who had behaved in
+such and such a way to her master, and at the same time related the
+whole story, and asked what sentence such an one merited? Then the
+false bride said, “She deserves no better fate than to be stripped
+entirely naked, and put in a barrel which is studded inside with
+pointed nails, and two white horses should be harnessed to it, which
+will drag her along through one street after another, till she is
+dead.” “It is thou,” said the aged King, “and thou hast pronounced
+thine own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto thee.” And when the
+sentence had been carried out, the young King married his true bride,
+and both of them reigned over their kingdom in peace and happiness.

content/library/grimm/090_the_young_giant.txt

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+The Young Giant
+
+Once on a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb, and
+did not become any bigger, and during several years did not grow one
+hair’s breadth. Once when the father was going out to plough, the
+little one said, “Father, I will go out with you.” “Thou wouldst go out
+with me?” said the father. “Stay here, thou wilt be of no use out
+there, besides thou mightest get lost!” Then Thumbling began to cry,
+and for the sake of peace his father put him in his pocket, and took
+him with him. When he was outside in the field, he took him out again,
+and set him in a freshly-cut furrow. Whilst he was there, a great giant
+came over the hill. “Do thou see that great bogie?” said the father,
+for he wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him good; “he is
+coming to fetch thee.” The giant, however, had scarcely taken two steps
+with his long legs before he was in the furrow. He took up little
+Thumbling carefully with two fingers, examined him, and without saying
+one word went away with him. His father stood by, but could not utter a
+sound for terror, and he thought nothing else but that his child was
+lost, and that as long as he lived he should never set eyes on him
+again.
+
+The giant, however, carried him home, suckled him, and Thumbling grew
+and became tall and strong after the manner of giants. When two years
+had passed, the old giant took him into the forest, wanted to try him,
+and said, “Pull up a stick for thyself.” Then the boy was already so
+strong that he tore up a young tree out of the earth by the roots. But
+the giant thought, “We must do better than that,” took him back again,
+and suckled him two years longer. When he tried him, his strength had
+increased so much that he could tear an old tree out of the ground.
+That was still not enough for the giant; he again suckled him for two
+years, and when he then went with him into the forest and said, “Now
+just tear up a proper stick for me,” the boy tore up the strongest
+oak-tree from the earth, so that it split, and that was a mere trifle
+to him. “Now that will do,” said the giant, “thou art perfect,” and
+took him back to the field from whence he had brought him. His father
+was there following the plough. The young giant went up to him, and
+said, “Does my father see what a fine man his son has grown into?”
+
+The farmer was alarmed, and said, “No, thou art not my son; I don’t
+want thee leave me!” “Truly I am your son; allow me to do your work, I
+can plough as well as you, nay better.” “No, no, thou art not my son;
+and thou canst not plough go away!” However, as he was afraid of this
+great man, he left go of the plough, stepped back and stood at one side
+of the piece of land. Then the youth took the plough, and just pressed
+it with one hand, but his grasp was so strong that the plough went deep
+into the earth. The farmer could not bear to see that, and called to
+him, “If thou art determined to plough, thou must not press so hard on
+it, that makes bad work.” The youth, however, unharnessed the horses,
+and drew the plough himself, saying, “Just go home, father, and bid my
+mother make ready a large dish of food, and in the meantime I will go
+over the field.” Then the farmer went home, and ordered his wife to
+prepare the food; but the youth ploughed the field which was two acres
+large, quite alone, and then he harnessed himself to the harrow, and
+harrowed the whole of the land, using two harrows at once. When he had
+done it, he went into the forest, and pulled up two oak-trees, laid
+them across his shoulders, and hung on them one harrow behind and one
+before, and also one horse behind and one before, and carried all as if
+it had been a bundle of straw, to his parents’ house. When he entered
+the yard, his mother did not recognize him, and asked, “Who is that
+horrible tall man?” The farmer said, “That is our son.” She said, “No
+that cannot be our son, we never had such a tall one, ours was a little
+thing.” She called to him, “Go away, we do not want thee!” The youth
+was silent, but led his horses to the stable, gave them some oats and
+hay, and all that they wanted. When he had done this, he went into the
+parlour, sat down on the bench and said, “Mother, now I should like
+something to eat, will it soon be ready?” Then she said, “Yes,” and
+brought in two immense dishes full of food, which would have been
+enough to satisfy herself and her husband for a week. The youth,
+however, ate the whole of it himself, and asked if she had nothing more
+to set before him. “No,” she replied, “that is all we have.” “But that
+was only a taste, I must have more.” She did not dare to oppose him,
+and went and put a huge caldron full of food on the fire, and when it
+was ready, carried it in. “At length come a few crumbs,” said he, and
+ate all there was, but it was still not sufficient to appease his
+hunger. Then said he, “Father, I see well that with you I shall never
+have food enough; if you will get me an iron staff which is strong, and
+which I cannot break against my knees, I will go out into the world.”
+The farmer was glad, put his two horses in his cart, and fetched from
+the smith a staff so large and thick, that the two horses could only
+just bring it away. The youth laid it across his knees, and snap! he
+broke it in two in the middle like a bean-stalk, and threw it away. The
+father then harnessed four horses, and brought a bar which was so long
+and thick, that the four horses could only just drag it. The son
+snapped this also in twain against his knees, threw it away, and said,
+“Father, this can be of no use to me, you must harness more horses, and
+bring a stronger staff.” So the father harnessed eight horses, and
+brought one which was so long and thick, that the eight horses could
+only just carry it. When the son took it in his hand, he broke off a
+bit from the top of it also, and said, “Father, I see that you will not
+be able to procure me any such staff as I want, I will remain no longer
+with you.”
+
+So he went away, and gave out that he was a smith’s apprentice. He
+arrived at a village, wherein lived a smith who was a greedy fellow,
+who never did a kindness to any one, but wanted everything for himself.
+The youth went into the smithy and asked if he needed a journeyman.
+“Yes,” said the smith, and looked at him, and thought, “That is a
+strong fellow who will strike out well, and earn his bread.” So he
+asked, “How much wages dost thou want?” “I don’t want any at all,” he
+replied, “only every fortnight, when the other journeymen are paid, I
+will give thee two blows, and thou must bear them.” The miser was
+heartily satisfied, and thought he would thus save much money. Next
+morning, the strange journeyman was to begin to work, but when the
+master brought the glowing bar, and the youth struck his first blow,
+the iron flew asunder, and the anvil sank so deep into the earth, that
+there was no bringing it out again. Then the miser grew angry, and
+said, “Oh, but I can’t make any use of you, you strike far too
+powerfully; what will you have for the one blow?”
+
+Then said he, “I will only give you quite a small blow, that’s all.”
+And he raised his foot, and gave him such a kick that he flew away over
+four loads of hay. Then he sought out the thickest iron bar in the
+smithy for himself, took it as a stick in his hand and went onwards.
+
+When he had walked for some time, he came to a small farm, and asked
+the bailiff if he did not require a head-servant. “Yes,” said the
+bailiff, “I can make use of one; you look a strong fellow who can do
+something, how much a year do you want as wages?” He again replied that
+he wanted no wages at all, but that every year he would give him three
+blows, which he must bear. Then the bailiff was satisfied, for he, too,
+was a covetous fellow. Next morning all the servants were to go into
+the wood, and the others were already up, but the head-servant was
+still in bed. Then one of them called to him, “Get up, it is time; we
+are going into the wood, and thou must go with us.” “Ah,” said he quite
+roughly and surlily, “you may just go, then; I shall be back again
+before any of you.” Then the others went to the bailiff, and told him
+that the head-man was still lying in bed, and would not go into the
+wood with them. The bailiff said they were to awaken him again, and
+tell him to harness the horses. The head-man, however, said as before,
+“Just go there, I shall be back again before any of you.” And then he
+stayed in bed two hours longer. At length he arose from the feathers,
+but first he got himself two bushels of peas from the loft, made
+himself some broth with them, ate it at his leisure, and when that was
+done, went and harnessed the horses, and drove into the wood. Not far
+from the wood was a ravine through which he had to pass, so he first
+drove the horses on, and then stopped them, and went behind the cart,
+took trees and brushwood, and made a great barricade, so that no horse
+could get through. When he was entering the wood, the others were just
+driving out of it with their loaded carts to go home; then said he to
+them, “Drive on, I will still get home before you do.” He did not drive
+far into the wood, but at once tore two of the very largest trees of
+all out of the earth, threw them on his cart, and turned round. When he
+came to the barricade, the others were still standing there, not able
+to get through. “Don’t you see,” said he, “that if you had stayed with
+me, you would have got home just as quickly, and would have had another
+hour’s sleep?” He now wanted to drive on, but his horses could not work
+their way through, so he unharnessed them, laid them on the top of the
+cart, took the shafts in his own hands, and pulled it all through, and
+he did this just as easily as if it had been laden with feathers. When
+he was over, he said to the others, “There, you see, I have got over
+quicker than you,” and drove on, and the others had to stay where they
+were. In the yard, however, he took a tree in his hand, showed it to
+the bailiff, and said, “Isn’t that a fine bundle of wood?” Then said
+the bailiff to his wife, “The servant is a good one, if he does sleep
+long, he is still home before the others.” So he served the bailiff for
+a year, and when that was over, and the other servants were getting
+their wages, he said it was time for him to take his too. The bailiff,
+however, was afraid of the blows which he was to receive, and earnestly
+entreated him to excuse him from having them; for rather than that, he
+himself would be head-servant, and the youth should be bailiff. “No,”
+said he, “I will not be a bailiff, I am head-servant, and will remain
+so, but I will administer that which we agreed on.” The bailiff was
+willing to give him whatsoever he demanded, but it was of no use, the
+head-servant said no to everything. Then the bailiff did not know what
+to do, and begged for a fortnight’s delay, for he wanted to find some
+way of escape. The head-servant consented to this delay. The bailiff
+summoned all his clerks together, and they were to think the matter
+over, and give him advice. The clerks pondered for a long time, but at
+last they said that no one was sure of his life with the head-servant,
+for he could kill a man as easily as a midge, and that the bailiff
+ought to make him get into the well and clean it, and when he was down
+below, they would roll up one of the mill-stones which was lying there,
+and throw it on his head; and then he would never return to daylight.
+The advice pleased the bailiff, and the head-servant was quite willing
+to go down the well. When he was standing down below at the bottom,
+they rolled down the largest mill-stone and thought they had broken his
+skull, but he cried, “Chase away those hens from the well, they are
+scratching in the sand up there, and throwing the grains into my eyes,
+so that I can’t see.” So the bailiff cried, “Sh-sh,” and pretended to
+frighten the hens away. When the head-servant had finished his work, he
+climbed up and said, “Just look what a beautiful neck-tie I have on,”
+and behold it was the mill-stone which he was wearing round his neck.
+The head-servant now wanted to take his reward, but the bailiff again
+begged for a fortnight’s delay. The clerks met together and advised him
+to send the head-servant to the haunted mill to grind corn by night,
+for from thence as yet no man had ever returned in the morning alive.
+The proposal pleased the bailiff, he called the head-servant that very
+evening, and ordered him to take eight bushels of corn to the mill, and
+grind it that night, for it was wanted. So the head-servant went to the
+loft, and put two bushels in his right pocket, and two in his left, and
+took four in a wallet, half on his back, and half on his breast, and
+thus laden went to the haunted mill. The miller told him that he could
+grind there very well by day, but not by night, for the mill was
+haunted, and that up to the present time whosoever had gone into it at
+night had been found in the morning lying dead inside. He said, “I will
+manage it, just you go away to bed.” Then he went into the mill, and
+poured out the corn. About eleven o’clock he went into the miller’s
+room, and sat down on the bench. When he had sat there a while, a door
+suddenly opened, and a large table came in, and on the table, wine and
+roasted meats placed themselves, and much good food besides, but
+everything came of itself, for no one was there to carry it. After this
+the chairs pushed themselves up, but no people came, until all at once
+he beheld fingers, which handled knives and forks, and laid food on the
+plates, but with this exception he saw nothing. As he was hungry, and
+saw the food, he, too, place himself at the table, ate with those who
+were eating and enjoyed it. When he had had enough, and the others also
+had quite emptied their dishes, he distinctly heard all the candles
+being suddenly snuffed out, and as it was now pitch dark, he felt
+something like a box on the ear. Then he said, “If anything of that
+kind comes again, I shall strike out in return.” And when he had
+received a second box on the ear, he, too struck out. And so it
+continued the whole night. He took nothing without returning it, but
+repaid everything with interest, and did not lay about him in vain. At
+daybreak, however, everything ceased. When the miller had got up, he
+wanted to look after him, and wondered if he were still alive. Then the
+youth said, “I have eaten my fill, have received some boxes on the
+ears, but I have given some in return.” The miller rejoiced, and said
+that the mill was now released from the spell, and wanted to give him
+much money as a reward. But he said, “Money, I will not have, I have
+enough of it.” So he took his meal on his back, went home, and told the
+bailiff that he had done what he had been told to do, and would now
+have the reward agreed on. When the bailiff heard that, he was
+seriously alarmed and quite beside himself; he walked backwards and
+forwards in the room, and drops of perspiration ran down from his
+forehead. Then he opened the window to get some fresh air, but before
+he was aware, the head-servant had given him such a kick that he flew
+through the window out into the air, and so far away that no one ever
+saw him again. Then said the head-servant to the bailiff’s wife, “If he
+does not come back, you must take the other blow.” She cried, “No, no I
+cannot bear it,” and opened the other window, because drops of
+perspiration were running down her forehead. Then he gave her such a
+kick that she, too, flew out, and as she was lighter she went much
+higher than her husband. Her husband cried, “Do come to me,” but she
+replied, “Come thou to me, I cannot come to thee.” And they hovered
+about there in the air, and could not get to each other, and whether
+they are still hovering about, or not, I do not know, but the young
+giant took up his iron bar, and went on his way.

content/library/grimm/091_the_gnome.txt

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+The Gnome
+
+There was once upon a time a rich King who had three daughters, who
+daily went to walk in the palace garden, and the King was a great lover
+of all kinds of fine trees, but there was one for which he had such an
+affection, that if anyone gathered an apple from it he wished him a
+hundred fathoms underground. And when harvest time came, the apples on
+this tree were all as red as blood. The three daughters went every day
+beneath the tree, and looked to see if the wind had not blown down an
+apple, but they never by any chance found one, and the tree was so
+loaded with them that it was almost breaking, and the branches hung
+down to the ground. Then the King’s youngest child had a great desire
+for an apple, and said to her sisters, “Our father loves us far too
+much to wish us underground, it is my belief that he would only do that
+to people who were strangers.” And while she was speaking, the child
+plucked off quite a large apple, and ran to her sisters, saying, “Just
+taste, my dear little sisters, for never in my life have I tasted
+anything so delightful.” Then the two other sisters also ate some of
+the apple, whereupon all three sank deep down into the earth, where
+they could hear no cock crow.
+
+When mid-day came, the King wished to call them to come to dinner, but
+they were nowhere to be found. He sought them everywhere in the palace
+and garden, but could not find them. Then he was much troubled, and
+made known to the whole land that whosoever brought his daughters back
+again should have one of them to wife. Hereupon so many young men went
+about the country in search, that there was no counting them, for every
+one loved the three children because they were so kind to all, and so
+fair of face. Three young huntsmen also went out, and when they had
+travelled about for eight days, they arrived at a great castle, in
+which were beautiful apartments, and in one room a table was laid on
+which were delicate dishes which were still so warm that they were
+smoking, but in the whole of the castle no human being was either to be
+seen or heard. They waited there for half a day, and the food still
+remained warm and smoking, and at length they were so hungry that they
+sat down and ate, and agreed with each other that they would stay and
+live in that castle, and that one of them, who should be chosen by
+casting lots, should remain in the house, and the two others seek the
+King’s daughters. They cast lots, and the lot fell on the eldest; so
+next day the two younger went out to seek, and the eldest had to stay
+home. At mid-day came a small, small mannikin and begged for a piece of
+bread, then the huntsman took the bread which he had found there, and
+cut a round off the loaf and was about to give it to him, but whilst he
+was giving it to the mannikin, the latter let it fall, and asked the
+huntsman to be so good as to give him that piece again. The huntsman
+was about to do so and stooped, on which the mannikin took a stick,
+seized him by the hair, and gave him a good beating. Next day, the
+second stayed at home, and he fared no better. When the two others
+returned in the evening, the eldest said, “Well, how have you got on?”
+
+“Oh, very badly,” said he, and then they lamented their misfortune
+together, but they said nothing about it to the youngest, for they did
+not like him at all, and always called him Stupid Hans, because he did
+not exactly belong to the forest. On the third day, the youngest stayed
+at home, and again the little mannikin came and begged for a piece of
+bread. When the youth gave it to him, the elf let it fall as before,
+and asked him to be so good as to give him that piece again. Then said
+Hans to the little mannikin, “What! canst thou not pick up that piece
+thyself? If thou wilt not take as much trouble as that for thy daily
+bread, thou dost not deserve to have it.” Then the mannikin grew very
+angry and said he was to do it, but the huntsman would not, and took my
+dear mannikin, and gave him a thorough beating. Then the mannikin
+screamed terribly, and cried, “Stop, stop, and let me go, and I will
+tell thee where the King’s daughters are.” When Hans heard that, he
+left off beating him and the mannikin told him that he was an earth
+mannikin, and that there were more than a thousand like him, and that
+if he would go with him he would show him where the King’s daughters
+were. Then he showed him a deep well, but there was no water in it. And
+the elf said that he knew well that the companions Hans had with him
+did not intend to deal honourably with him, therefore if he wished to
+deliver the King’s children, he must do it alone. The two other
+brothers would also be very glad to recover the King’s daughters, but
+they did not want to have any trouble or danger. Hans was therefore to
+take a large basket, and he must seat himself in it with his hanger and
+a bell, and be let down. Below were three rooms, and in each of them
+was a princess, with a many-headed dragon, whose heads she was to comb
+and trim, but he must cut them off. And having said all this, the elf
+vanished. When it was evening the two brothers came and asked how he
+had got on, and he said, “pretty well so far,” and that he had seen no
+one except at mid-day when a little mannikin had come and begged for a
+piece of bread, that he had given some to him, but that the mannikin
+had let it fall and had asked him to pick it up again; but as he did
+not choose to do that, the elf had begun to lose his temper, and that
+he had done what he ought not, and had given the elf a beating, on
+which he had told him where the King’s daughters were. Then the two
+were so angry at this that they grew green and yellow. Next morning
+they went to the well together, and drew lots who should first seat
+himself in the basket, and again the lot fell on the eldest, and he was
+to seat himself in it, and take the bell with him. Then he said, “If I
+ring, you must draw me up again immediately.” When he had gone down for
+a short distance, he rang, and they at once drew him up again. Then the
+second seated himself in the basket, but he did just the same as the
+first, and then it was the turn of the youngest, but he let himself be
+lowered quite to the bottom. When he had got out of the basket, he took
+his hanger, and went and stood outside the first door and listened, and
+heard the dragon snoring quite loudly. He opened the door slowly, and
+one of the princesses was sitting there, and had nine dragon’s heads
+lying upon her lap, and was combing them. Then he took his hanger and
+hewed at them, and the nine fell off. The princess sprang up, threw her
+arms round his neck, embraced and kissed him repeatedly, and took her
+stomacher, which was made of pure gold, and hung it round his neck.
+Then he went to the second princess, who had a dragon with five heads
+to comb, and delivered her also, and to the youngest, who had a dragon
+with four heads, he went likewise. And they all rejoiced, and embraced
+him and kissed him without stopping. Then he rang very loud, so that
+those above heard him, and he placed the princesses one after the other
+in the basket, and had them all drawn up, but when it came to his own
+turn he remembered the words of the elf, who had told him that his
+comrades did not mean well by him. So he took a great stone which was
+lying there, and placed it in the basket, and when it was about half
+way up, his false brothers above cut the rope, so that the basket with
+the stone fell to the ground, and they thought that he was dead, and
+ran away with the three princesses, making them promise to tell their
+father that it was they who had delivered them, and then they went to
+the King, and each demanded a princess in marriage.
+
+In the meantime the youngest huntsman was wandering about the three
+chambers in great trouble, fully expecting to have to end his days
+there, when he saw, hanging on the wall, a flute; then said he, “Why
+dost thou hang there, no one can be merry here?” He looked at the
+dragons, heads likewise and said, “You too cannot help me now.” He
+walked backwards and forwards for such a long time that he made the
+surface of the ground quite smooth. But at last other thoughts came to
+his mind, and he took the flute from the wall, and played a few notes
+on it, and suddenly a number of elves appeared, and with every note
+that he sounded one more came. Then he played until the room was
+entirely filled. They all asked what he desired, so he said he wished
+to get above ground back to daylight, on which they seized him by every
+hair that grew on his head, and thus they flew with him onto the earth
+again. When he was above ground, he at once went to the King’s palace,
+just as the wedding of one princess was about to be celebrated, and he
+went to the room where the King and his three daughters were. When the
+princesses saw him they fainted. Hereupon the King was angry, and
+ordered him to be put in prison at once, because he thought he must
+have done some injury to the children. When the princesses came to
+themselves, however, they entreated the King to set him free again. The
+King asked why, and they said that they were not allowed to tell that,
+but their father said that they were to tell it to the stove. And he
+went out, listened at the door, and heard everything. Then he caused
+the two brothers to be hanged on the gallows, and to the third he gave
+his youngest daughter, and on that occasion I wore a pair of glass
+shoes, and I struck them against a stone, and they said, “Klink,” and
+were broken.

content/library/grimm/092_the_king_of_the_golden_mountain.txt

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+The King of the Golden Mountain
+
+There was a certain merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl;
+they were both young, and could not walk. And two richly-laden ships of
+his sailed forth to sea with all his property on board, and just as he
+was expecting to win much money by them, news came that they had gone
+to the bottom, and now instead of being a rich man he was a poor one,
+and had nothing left but one field outside the town. In order to drive
+his misfortune a little out of his thoughts, he went out to this field,
+and as he was walking forwards and backwards in it, a little black
+mannikin stood suddenly by his side, and asked why he was so sad, and
+what he was taking so much to heart. Then said the merchant, “If thou
+couldst help me I would willingly tell thee.” “Who knows?” replied the
+black dwarf. “Perhaps, I can help thee.” Then the merchant told him
+that all he possessed had gone to the bottom of the sea, and that he
+had nothing left but this field. “Do not trouble thyself,” said the
+dwarf. “If thou wilt promise to give me the first thing that rubs
+itself against thy leg when thou art at home again, and to bring it
+here to this place in twelve years’ time, thou shalt have as much money
+as thou wilt.” The merchant thought, “What can that be but my dog?” and
+did not remember his little boy, so he said yes, gave the black man a
+written and sealed promise, and went home.
+
+When he reached home, his little boy was so delighted that he held by a
+bench, tottered up to him and seized him fast by the legs. The father
+was shocked, for he remembered his promise, and now knew what he had
+pledged himself to do; as however, he still found no money in his
+chest, he thought the dwarf had only been jesting. A month afterwards
+he went up to the garret, intending to gather together some old tin and
+to sell it, and saw a great heap of money lying. Then he was happy
+again, made purchases, became a greater merchant than before, and felt
+that this world was well-governed. In the meantime the boy grew tall,
+and at the same time sharp and clever. But the nearer the twelfth year
+approached the more anxious grew the merchant, so that his distress
+might be seen in his face. One day his son asked what ailed him, but
+the father would not say. The boy, however, persisted so long, that at
+last he told him that without being aware of what he was doing, he had
+promised him to a black dwarf, and had received much money for doing
+so. He said likewise that he had set his hand and seal to this, and
+that now when twelve years had gone by he would have to give him up.
+Then said the son, “Oh, father, do not be uneasy, all will go well. The
+black man has no power over me.” The son had himself blessed by the
+priest, and when the time came, father and son went together to the
+field, and the son made a circle and placed himself inside it with his
+father. Then came the black dwarf and said to the old man, “Hast thou
+brought with thee that which thou hast promised me?” He was silent, but
+the son asked, “What dost thou want here?” Then said the black dwarf,
+“I have to speak with thy father, and not with thee.” The son replied,
+“Thou hast betrayed and misled my father, give back the writing.” “No,”
+said the black dwarf, “I will not give up my rights.” They spoke
+together for a long time after this, but at last they agreed that the
+son, as he did not belong to the enemy of mankind, nor yet to his
+father, should seat himself in a small boat, which should lie on water
+which was flowing away from them, and that the father should push it
+off with his own foot, and then the son should remain given up to the
+water. So he took leave of his father, placed himself in a little boat,
+and the father had to push it off with his own foot. The boat capsized
+so that the keel was uppermost, and the father believed his son was
+lost, and went home and mourned for him.
+
+The boat, however, did not sink, but floated quietly away, and the boy
+sat safely inside it, and it floated thus for a long time, until at
+last it stopped by an unknown shore. Then he landed and saw a beautiful
+castle before him, and set out to go to it. But when he entered it, he
+found that it was bewitched. He went through every room, but all were
+empty until he reached the last, where a snake lay coiled in a ring.
+The snake, however, was an enchanted maiden, who rejoiced to see him,
+and said, “Hast thou come, oh, my deliverer? I have already waited
+twelve years for thee; this kingdom is bewitched, and thou must set it
+free.” “How can I do that?” he inquired. “To-night come twelve black
+men, covered with chains who will ask what thou art doing here; keep
+silent; give them no answer, and let them do what they will with thee;
+they will torment thee, beat thee, stab thee; let everything pass, only
+do not speak; at twelve o’clock, they must go away again. On the second
+night twelve others will come; on the third, four-and-twenty, who will
+cut off thy head, but at twelve o’clock their power will be over, and
+then if thou hast endured all, and hast not spoken the slightest word,
+I shall be released. I will come to thee, and will have, in a bottle,
+some of the water of life. I will rub thee with that, and then thou
+wilt come to life again, and be as healthy as before.” Then said he, “I
+will gladly set thee free.” And everything happened just as she had
+said; the black men could not force a single word from him, and on the
+third night the snake became a beautiful princess, who came with the
+water of life and brought him back to life again. So she threw herself
+into his arms and kissed him, and there was joy and gladness in the
+whole castle. After this their marriage was celebrated, and he was King
+of the Golden Mountain.
+
+They lived very happily together, and the Queen bore a fine boy. Eight
+years had already gone by, when the King bethought him of his father;
+his heart was moved, and he wished to visit him. The Queen, however,
+would not let him go away, and said, “I know beforehand that it will
+cause my unhappiness;” but he suffered her to have no rest until she
+consented. At their parting she gave him a wishing-ring, and said,
+“Take this ring and put it on thy finger, and then thou wilt
+immediately be transported whithersoever thou wouldst be, only thou
+must promise me not to use it in wishing me away from this place and
+with thy father.” That he promised her, put the ring on his finger, and
+wished himself at home, just outside the town where his father lived.
+Instantly he found himself there, and made for the town, but when he
+came to the gate, the sentries would not let him in, because he wore
+such strange and yet such rich and magnificent clothing. Then he went
+to a hill where a shepherd was watching his sheep, changed clothes with
+him, put on his old shepherd’s-coat, and then entered the town without
+hindrance. When he came to his father, he made himself known to him,
+but he did not at all believe that the shepherd was his son, and said
+he certainly had had a son, but that he was dead long ago; however, as
+he saw he was a poor, needy shepherd, he would give him something to
+eat. Then the shepherd said to his parents, “I am verily your son. Do
+you know of no mark on my body by which you could recognize me?” “Yes,”
+said his mother, “our son had a raspberry mark under his right arm.” He
+slipped back his shirt, and they saw the raspberry under his right arm,
+and no longer doubted that he was their son. Then he told them that he
+was King of the Golden Mountain, and a king’s daughter was his wife,
+and that they had a fine son of seven years old. Then said the father,
+“That is certainly not true; it is a fine kind of a king who goes about
+in a ragged shepherd’s-coat.” On this the son fell in a passion, and
+without thinking of his promise, turned his ring round, and wished both
+his wife and child with him. They were there in a second, but the Queen
+wept, and reproached him, and said that he had broken his word, and had
+brought misfortune upon her. He said, “I have done it thoughtlessly,
+and not with evil intention,” and tried to calm her, and she pretended
+to believe this; but she had mischief in her mind.
+
+Then he led her out of the town into the field, and showed her the
+stream where the little boat had been pushed off, and then he said, “I
+am tired; sit down, I will sleep awhile on thy lap.” And he laid his
+head on her lap, and fell asleep. When he was asleep, she first drew
+the ring from his finger, then she drew away the foot which was under
+him, leaving only the slipper behind her, and she took her child in her
+arms, and wished herself back in her own kingdom. When he awoke, there
+he lay quite deserted, and his wife and child were gone, and so was the
+ring from his finger, the slipper only was still there as a token.
+“Home to thy parents thou canst not return,” thought he, “they would
+say that thou wast a wizard; thou must be off, and walk on until thou
+arrivest in thine own kingdom.” So he went away and came at length to a
+hill by which three giants were standing, disputing with each other
+because they did not know how to divide their father’s property. When
+they saw him passing by, they called to him and said little men had
+quick wits, and that he was to divide their inheritance for them. The
+inheritance, however, consisted of a sword, which had this property
+that if any one took it in his hand, and said, “All heads off but
+mine,” every head would lie on the ground; secondly, of a cloak which
+made any one who put it on invisible; thirdly, of a pair of boots which
+could transport the wearer to any place he wished in a moment. He said,
+“Give me the three things that I may see if they are still in good
+condition.” They gave him the cloak, and when he had put it on, he was
+invisible and changed into a fly. Then he resumed his own form and
+said, “The cloak is a good one, now give me the sword.” They said, “No,
+we will not give thee that; if thou were to say, All heads off but
+mine,’ all our heads would be off, and thou alone wouldst be left with
+thine.” Nevertheless they gave it to him with the condition that he was
+only to try it against a tree. This he did, and the sword cut in two
+the trunk of a tree as if it had been a blade of straw. Then he wanted
+to have the boots likewise, but they said, “No, we will not give them;
+if thou hadst them on thy feet and wert to wish thyself at the top of
+the hill, we should be left down here with nothing.” “Oh, no,” said he,
+“I will not do that.” So they gave him the boots as well. And now when
+he had got all these things, he thought of nothing but his wife and his
+child, and said as though to himself, “Oh, if I were but on the Golden
+Mountain,” and at the same moment he vanished from the sight of the
+giants, and thus their inheritance was divided. When he was near his
+palace, he heard sounds of joy, and fiddles, and flutes, and the people
+told him that his wife was celebrating her wedding with another. Then
+he fell into a rage, and said, “False woman, she betrayed and deserted
+me whilst I was asleep!” So he put on his cloak, and unseen by all went
+into the palace. When he entered the dining-hall a great table was
+spread with delicious food, and the guests were eating and drinking,
+and laughing, and jesting. She sat on a royal seat in the midst of them
+in splendid apparel, with a crown on her head. He placed himself behind
+her, and no one saw him. When she put a piece of meat on a plate for
+herself, he took it away and ate it, and when she poured out a glass of
+wine for herself, he took it away and drank it. She was always helping
+herself to something, and yet she never got anything, for plate and
+glass disappeared immediately. Then dismayed and ashamed, she arose and
+went to her chamber and wept, but he followed her there. She said, “Has
+the devil power over me, or did my deliverer never come?” Then he
+struck her in the face, and said, “Did thy deliverer never come? It is
+he who has thee in his power, thou traitor. Have I deserved this from
+thee?” Then he made himself visible, went into the hall, and cried,
+“The wedding is at an end, the true King has returned.” The kings,
+princes, and councillors who were assembled there, ridiculed and mocked
+him, but he did not trouble to answer them, and said, “Will you go
+away, or not?” On this they tried to seize him and pressed upon him,
+but he drew his sword and said, “All heads off but mine,” and all the
+heads rolled on the ground, and he alone was master, and once more King
+of the Golden Mountain.

content/library/grimm/093_the_raven.txt

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+The Raven
+
+There was once upon a time a Queen who had a little daughter who was
+still so young that she had to be carried. One day the child was
+naughty, and the mother might say what she liked, but the child would
+not be quiet. Then she became impatient, and as the ravens were flying
+about the palace, she opened the window and said, “I wish you were a
+raven and would fly away, and then I should have some rest.” Scarcely
+had she spoken the words, before the child was changed into a raven,
+and flew from her arms out of the window. It flew into a dark forest,
+and stayed in it a long time, and the parents heard nothing of their
+child. Then one day a man was on his way through this forest and heard
+the raven crying, and followed the voice, and when he came nearer, the
+bird said, “I am a king’s daughter by birth, and am bewitched, but thou
+canst set me free.” “What am I to do,” asked he. She said, “Go further
+into the forest, and thou wilt find a house, wherein sits an aged
+woman, who will offer thee meat and drink, but you must accept nothing,
+for if you eatest and drinkest anything, thou wilt fall into a sleep,
+and then thou wilt not be able to deliver me. In the garden behind the
+house there is a great heap of tan, and on this thou shalt stand and
+wait for me. For three days I will come every afternoon at two o’clock
+in a carriage. On the first day four white horses will be harnessed to
+it, then four chestnut horses, and lastly four black ones; but if thou
+art not awake, but sleeping, I shall not be set free.” The man promised
+to do everything that she desired, but the raven said, alas, “I know
+already that thou wilt not deliver me; thou wilt accept something from
+the woman.” Then the man once more promised that he would certainly not
+touch anything either to eat or to drink. But when he entered the house
+the old woman came to him and said, “Poor man, how faint you are; come
+and refresh yourself; eat and drink.” “No,” said the man, “I will not
+eat or drink.” She, however, let him have no peace, and said, “If you
+will not eat, take one drink out of the glass; one is nothing.” Then he
+let himself be persuaded, and drank. Shortly before two o’clock in the
+afternoon he went into the garden to the tan heap to wait for the
+raven. As he was standing there, his weariness all at once became so
+great that he could not struggle against it, and lay down for a short
+time, but he was determined not to go to sleep. Hardly, however, had he
+lain down, than his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell asleep
+and slept so soundly that nothing in the world could have aroused him.
+At two o’clock the raven came driving up with four white horses, but
+she was already in deep grief and said, “I know he is asleep.” And when
+she came into the garden, he was indeed lying there asleep on the heap
+of tan. She alighted from the carriage, went to him, shook him, and
+called him, but he did not awake. Next day about noon, the old woman
+came again and brought him food and drink, but he would not take any of
+it. But she let him have no rest and persuaded him until at length he
+again took one drink out of the glass. Towards two o’clock he went into
+the garden to the tan heap to wait for the raven, but all at once felt
+such a great weariness that his limbs would no longer support him. He
+could not help himself, and was forced to lie down, and fell into a
+heavy sleep. When the raven drove up with four brown horses, she was
+already full of grief, and said, “I know he is asleep.” She went to
+him, but there he lay sleeping, and there was no wakening him. Next day
+the old woman asked what was the meaning of this? He was neither eating
+nor drinking anything; did he want to die? He replied, “I am not
+allowed to eat or drink, and will not do so.” But she set a dish with
+food, and a glass with wine before him, and when he smelt it he could
+not resist, and swallowed a deep draught. When the time came, he went
+out into the garden to the heap of tan, and waited for the King’s
+daughter; but he became still more weary than on the day before, and
+lay down and slept as soundly as if he had been a stone. At two o’clock
+the raven came with four black horses, and the coachman and everything
+else was black. She was already in the deepest grief, and said, “I know
+that he is asleep and cannot deliver me.” When she came to him, there
+he was lying fast asleep. She shook him and called him, but she could
+not waken him. Then she laid a loaf beside him, and after that a piece
+of meat, and thirdly a bottle of wine, and he might consume as much of
+all of them as he liked, but they would never grow less. After this she
+took a gold ring from her finger, and put it on his, and her name was
+graven on it. Lastly, she laid a letter beside him wherein was written
+what she had given him, and that none of the things would ever grow
+less; and in it was also written, “I see right well that here you will
+never be able to deliver me, but if thou art still willing to deliver
+me, come to the golden castle of Stromberg; it lies in thy power, of
+that I am certain.” And when she had given him all these things, she
+seated herself in her carriage, and drove to the golden castle of
+Stromberg.
+
+When the man awoke and saw that he had slept, he was sad at heart, and
+said, “She has certainly driven by, and I have not set her free.” Then
+he perceived the things which were lying beside him, and read the
+letter wherein was written how everything had happened. So he arose and
+went away, intending to go to the golden castle of Stromberg, but he
+did not know where it was. After he had walked about the world for a
+long time, he entered into a dark forest, and walked for fourteen days,
+and still could not find his way out. Then it was once more evening,
+and he was so tired that he lay down in a thicket and fell asleep. Next
+day he went onwards, and in the evening, as he was again about to lie
+down beneath some bushes, he heard such a howling and crying that he
+could not go to sleep. And at the time when people light the candles,
+he saw one glimmering, and arose and went towards it. Then he came to a
+house which seemed very small, for in front of it a great giant was
+standing. He thought to himself, “If I go in, and the giant sees me, it
+will very likely cost me my life.”
+
+At length he ventured it and went in. When the giant saw him, he said,
+“It is well that thou comest, for it is long since I have eaten; I will
+at once eat thee for my supper.” “I’d rather you would leave that
+alone,” said the man, “I do not like to be eaten; but if thou hast any
+desire to eat, I have quite enough here to satisfy thee.” “If that be
+true,” said the giant, “thou mayst be easy, I was only going to devour
+thee because I had nothing else.” Then they went, and sat down to the
+table, and the man took out the bread, wine, and meat which would never
+come to an end. “This pleases me well,” said the giant, and ate to his
+heart’s content. Then the man said to him, “Canst thou tell me where
+the golden castle of Stromberg is?” The giant said, “I will look at my
+map; all the towns, and villages, and houses are to be found on it.” He
+brought out the map which he had in the room and looked for the castle,
+but it was not to be found on it. “It’s no matter!” said he, “I have
+some still larger maps in my cupboard upstairs, and we will look in
+them.” But there, too, it was in vain. The man now wanted to go
+onwards, but the giant begged him to wait a few days longer until his
+brother, who had gone out to bring some provisions, came home. When the
+brother came home they inquired about the golden castle of Stromberg.
+He replied, “When I have eaten and have had enough, I will look in the
+map.” Then he went with them up to his chamber, and they searched in
+his map, but could not find it. Then he brought out still older maps,
+and they never rested until they found the golden castle of Stromberg,
+but it was many thousand miles away. “How am I to get there?” asked the
+man. The giant said, “I have two hours’ time, during which I will carry
+you into the neighbourhood, but after that I must be at home to suckle
+the child that we have.” So the giant carried the man to about a
+hundred leagues from the castle, and said, “Thou canst very well walk
+the rest of the way alone.” And he turned back, but the man went
+onwards day and night, until at length he came to the golden castle of
+Stromberg. It stood on a glass-mountain, and the bewitched maiden drove
+in her carriage round the castle, and then went inside it. He rejoiced
+when he saw her and wanted to climb up to her, but when he began to do
+so he always slipped down the glass again. And when he saw that he
+could not reach her, he was filled with trouble, and said to himself,
+“I will stay down here below, and wait for her.” So he built himself a
+hut and stayed in it for a whole year, and every day saw the King’s
+daughter driving about above, but never could go to her. Then one day
+he saw from his hut three robbers who were beating each other, and
+cried to them, “God be with ye!” They stopped when they heard the cry,
+but as they saw no one, they once more began to beat each other, and
+that too most dangerously. So he again cried, “God be with ye!” Again
+they stopped, looked round about, but as they saw no one they went on
+beating each other. Then he cried for the third time, “God be with ye,”
+and thought, “I must see what these three are about,” and went thither
+and asked why they were beating each other so furiously. One of them
+said that he found a stick, and that when he struck a door with it,
+that door would spring open. The next said that he had found a mantle,
+and that whenever he put it on, he was invisible, but the third said he
+had found a horse on which a man could ride everywhere, even up the
+glass-mountain. And now they did not know whether they ought to have
+these things in common, or whether they ought to divide them. Then the
+man said, “I will give you something in exchange for these three
+things. Money indeed have I not, but I have other things of more value;
+but first I must try yours to see if you have told the truth.” Then
+they put him on the horse, threw the mantle round him, and gave him the
+stick in his hand, and when he had all these things they were no longer
+able to see him. So he gave them some vigorous blows and cried, “Now,
+vagabonds, you have got what you deserve, are you satisfied?” And he
+rode up the glass-mountain, but when he came in front of the castle at
+the top, it was shut. Then he struck the door with his stick, and it
+sprang open immediately. He went in and ascended the stairs until he
+came to the hall where the maiden was sitting with a golden cup full of
+wine before her. She, however, could not see him because he had the
+mantle on. And when he came up to her, he drew from his finger the ring
+which she had given him, and threw it into the cup so that it rang.
+Then she cried, “That is my ring, so the man who is to set me free must
+be here.” They searched the whole castle and did not find him, but he
+had gone out, and had seated himself on the horse and thrown off the
+mantle. When they came to the door, they saw him and cried aloud in
+their delight.* Then he alighted and took the King’s daughter in his
+arms, but she kissed him and said, “Now hast thou set me free, and
+to-morrow we will celebrate our wedding.”

content/library/grimm/094_the_peasants_wise_daughter.txt

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+The Peasant’s Wise Daughter
+
+There was once a poor peasant who had no land, but only a small house,
+and one daughter. Then said the daughter, “We ought to ask our lord the
+King for a bit of newly-cleared land.” When the King heard of their
+poverty, he presented them with a piece of land, which she and her
+father dug up, and intended to sow with a little corn and grain of that
+kind. When they had dug nearly the whole of the field, they found in
+the earth a mortar made of pure gold. “Listen,” said the father to the
+girl, “as our lord the King has been so gracious and presented us with
+the field, we ought to give him this mortar in return for it.” The
+daughter, however, would not consent to this, and said, “Father, if we
+have the mortar without having the pestle as well, we shall have to get
+the pestle, so you had much better say nothing about it.” He would,
+however, not obey her, but took the mortar and carried it to the King,
+said that he had found it in the cleared land, and asked if he would
+accept it as a present. The King took the mortar, and asked if he had
+found nothing besides that? “No,” answered the countryman. Then the
+King said that he must now bring him the pestle. The peasant said they
+had not found that, but he might just as well have spoken to the wind;
+he was put in prison, and was to stay there until he produced the
+pestle. The servants had daily to carry him bread and water, which is
+what people get in prison, and they heard how the man cried out
+continually, “Ah! if I had but listened to my daughter! Alas, alas, if
+I had but listened to my daughter!” and would neither eat nor drink. So
+he commanded the servants to bring the prisoner before him, and then
+the King asked the peasant why he was always crying, “Ah! if I had but
+listened to my daughter!” and what it was that his daughter had said.
+“She told me that I ought not to take the mortar to you, for I should
+have to produce the pestle as well.” “If you have a daughter who is as
+wise as that, let her come here.” She was therefore obliged to appear
+before the King, who asked her if she really was so wise, and said he
+would set her a riddle, and if she could guess that, he would marry
+her. She at once said yes, she would guess it. Then said the King,
+“Come to me not clothed, not naked, not riding, not walking, not in the
+road, and not out of the road, and if thou canst do that I will marry
+thee.” So she went away, put off everything she had on, and then she
+was not clothed, and took a great fishing net, and seated herself in it
+and wrapped it entirely round and round her, so that she was not naked,
+and she hired an ass, and tied the fisherman’s net to its tail, so that
+it was forced to drag her along, and that was neither riding nor
+walking. The ass had also to drag her in the ruts, so that she only
+touched the ground with her great toe, and that was neither being in
+the road nor out of the road. And when she arrived in that fashion, the
+King said she had guessed the riddle and fulfilled all the conditions.
+Then he ordered her father to be released from the prison, took her to
+wife, and gave into her care all the royal possessions.
+
+Now when some years had passed, the King was once drawing up his troops
+on parade, when it happened that some peasants who had been selling
+wood stopped with their waggons before the palace; some of them had
+oxen yoked to them, and some horses. There was one peasant who had
+three horses, one of which was delivered of a young foal, and it ran
+away and lay down between two oxen which were in front of the waggon.
+When the peasants came together, they began to dispute, to beat each
+other and make a disturbance, and the peasant with the oxen wanted to
+keep the foal, and said one of the oxen had given birth to it, and the
+other said his horse had had it, and that it was his. The quarrel came
+before the King, and he give the verdict that the foal should stay
+where it had been found, and so the peasant with the oxen, to whom it
+did not belong, got it. Then the other went away, and wept and lamented
+over his foal. Now he had heard how gracious his lady the Queen was
+because she herself had sprung from poor peasant folks, so he went to
+her and begged her to see if she could not help him to get his foal
+back again. Said she, “Yes, I will tell you what to do, if thou wilt
+promise me not to betray me. Early to-morrow morning, when the King
+parades the guard, place thyself there in the middle of the road by
+which he must pass, take a great fishing-net and pretend to be fishing;
+go on fishing, too, and empty out the net as if thou hadst got it full”
+and then she told him also what he was to say if he was questioned by
+the King. The next day, therefore, the peasant stood there, and fished
+on dry ground. When the King passed by, and saw that, he sent his
+messenger to ask what the stupid man was about? He answered, “I am
+fishing.” The messenger asked how he could fish when there was no water
+there? The peasant said, “It is as easy for me to fish on dry land as
+it is for an ox to have a foal.” The messenger went back and took the
+answer to the King, who ordered the peasant to be brought to him and
+told him that this was not his own idea, and he wanted to know whose it
+was? The peasant must confess this at once. The peasant, however, would
+not do so, and said always, God forbid he should! the idea was his own.
+They laid him, however, on a heap of straw, and beat him and tormented
+him so long that at last he admitted that he had got the idea from the
+Queen.
+
+When the King reached home again, he said to his wife, “Why hast thou
+behaved so falsely to me? I will not have thee any longer for a wife;
+thy time is up, go back to the place from whence thou camest to thy
+peasant’s hut.” One favour, however, he granted her; she might take
+with her the one thing that was dearest and best in her eyes; and thus
+was she dismissed. She said, “Yes, my dear husband, if you command
+this, I will do it,” and she embraced him and kissed him, and said she
+would take leave of him. Then she ordered a powerful sleeping draught
+to be brought, to drink farewell to him; the King took a long draught,
+but she took only a little. He soon fell into a deep sleep, and when
+she perceived that, she called a servant and took a fair white linen
+cloth and wrapped the King in it, and the servant was forced to carry
+him into a carriage that stood before the door, and she drove with him
+to her own little house. She laid him in her own little bed, and he
+slept one day and one night without awakening, and when he awoke he
+looked round and said, “Good God! where am I?” He called his
+attendants, but none of them were there. At length his wife came to his
+bedside and said, “My dear lord and King, you told me I might bring
+away with me from the palace that which was dearest and most precious
+in my eyes I have nothing more precious and dear than yourself, so I
+have brought you with me.” Tears rose to the King’s eyes and he said,
+“Dear wife, thou shalt be mine and I will be thine,” and he took her
+back with him to the royal palace and was married again to her, and at
+the present time they are very likely still living.

content/library/grimm/095_old_hildebrand.txt

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+Old Hildebrand
+
+Once upon a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson of the
+village had a fancy for the wife, and had wished for a long while to
+spend a whole day happily with her. The peasant woman, too, was quite
+willing. One day, therefore, he said to the woman, “Listen, my dear
+friend, I have now thought of a way by which we can for once spend a
+whole day happily together. I’ll tell you what; on Wednesday, you must
+take to your bed, and tell your husband you are ill, and if you only
+complain and act being ill properly, and go on doing so until Sunday
+when I have to preach, I will then say in my sermon that whosoever has
+at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father, a
+sick mother, a sick brother or whosoever else it may be, and makes a
+pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where you can get a peck of
+laurel-leaves for a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the sick
+wife, the sick father, or sick mother, the sick sister, or whosoever
+else it may be, will be restored to health immediately.”
+
+“I will manage it,” said the woman promptly. Now therefore on the
+Wednesday, the peasant woman took to her bed, and complained and
+lamented as agreed on, and her husband did everything for her that he
+could think of, but nothing did her any good, and when Sunday came the
+woman said, “I feel as ill as if I were going to die at once, but there
+is one thing I should like to do before my end I should like to hear
+the parson’s sermon that he is going to preach to-day.” On that the
+peasant said, “Ah, my child, do not do it—thou mightest make thyself
+worse if thou wert to get up. Look, I will go to the sermon, and will
+attend to it very carefully, and will tell thee everything the parson
+says.”
+
+“Well,” said the woman, “go, then, and pay great attention, and repeat
+to me all that thou hearest.” So the peasant went to the sermon, and
+the parson began to preach and said, if any one had at home a sick
+child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father a sick mother, a sick
+sister, brother or any one else, and would make a pilgrimage to the
+Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer,
+the sick child, sick husband, sick wife, sick father, sick mother, sick
+sister, brother, or whosoever else it might be, would be restored to
+health instantly, and whosoever wished to undertake the journey was to
+go to him after the service was over, and he would give him the sack
+for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer.
+
+Then no one was more rejoiced than the peasant, and after the service
+was over, he went at once to the parson, who gave him the bag for the
+laurel-leaves and the kreuzer. After that he went home, and even at the
+house door he cried, “Hurrah! dear wife, it is now almost the same
+thing as if thou wert well! The parson has preached to-day that
+whosoever had at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick
+father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or whoever it might be,
+and would make a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck
+of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, sick husband, sick
+wife, sick father, sick mother, sick sister, brother, or whosoever else
+it was, would be cured immediately, and now I have already got the bag
+and the kreuzer from the parson, and will at once begin my journey so
+that thou mayst get well the faster,” and thereupon he went away. He
+was, however, hardly gone before the woman got up, and the parson was
+there directly.
+
+But now we will leave these two for a while, and follow the peasant,
+who walked on quickly without stopping, in order to get the sooner to
+the Göckerli hill, and on his way he met his gossip. His gossip was an
+egg-merchant, and was just coming from the market, where he had sold
+his eggs. “May you be blessed,” said the gossip, “where are you off to
+so fast?”
+
+“To all eternity, my friend,” said the peasant, “my wife is ill, and I
+have been to-day to hear the parson’s sermon, and he preached that if
+any one had in his house a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a
+sick father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or any one else, and
+made a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of
+laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the
+sick wife, the sick father, the sick mother, the sick sister, brother
+or whosoever else it was, would be cured immediately, and so I have got
+the bag for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer from the parson, and now
+I am beginning my pilgrimage.” “But listen, gossip,” said the
+egg-merchant to the peasant, “are you, then, stupid enough to believe
+such a thing as that? Don’t you know what it means? The parson wants to
+spend a whole day alone with your wife in peace, so he has given you
+this job to do to get you out of the way.”
+
+“My word!” said the peasant. “How I’d like to know if that’s true!”
+
+“Come, then,” said the gossip, “I’ll tell you what to do. Get into my
+egg-basket and I will carry you home, and then you will see for
+yourself.” So that was settled, and the gossip put the peasant into his
+egg-basket and carried him home.
+
+When they got to the house, hurrah! but all was going merry there! The
+woman had already had nearly everything killed that was in the
+farmyard, and had made pancakes, and the parson was there, and had
+brought his fiddle with him. The gossip knocked at the door, and woman
+asked who was there. “It is I, gossip,” said the egg-merchant, “give me
+shelter this night; I have not sold my eggs at the market, so now I
+have to carry them home again, and they are so heavy that I shall never
+be able to do it, for it is dark already.”
+
+“Indeed, my friend,” said the woman, “thou comest at a very
+inconvenient time for me, but as thou art here it can’t be helped, come
+in, and take a seat there on the bench by the stove.” Then she placed
+the gossip and the basket which he carried on his back on the bench by
+the stove. The parson, however, and the woman, were as merry as
+possible. At length the parson said, “Listen, my dear friend, thou
+canst sing beautifully; sing something to me.” “Oh,” said the woman, “I
+cannot sing now, in my young days indeed I could sing well enough, but
+that’s all over now.”
+
+“Come,” said the parson once more, “do sing some little song.”
+
+On that the woman began and sang,
+
+“I’ve sent my husband away from me
+To the Göckerli hill in Italy.”
+
+
+Thereupon the parson sang,
+
+“I wish ’twas a year before he came back,
+I’d never ask him for the laurel-leaf sack.”
+Hallelujah.
+
+
+Then the gossip who was in the background began to sing (but I ought to
+tell you the peasant was called Hildebrand), so the gossip sang,
+
+“What art thou doing, my Hildebrand dear,
+There on the bench by the stove so near?”
+Hallelujah.
+
+
+And then the peasant sang from his basket,
+
+“All singing I ever shall hate from this day,
+And here in this basket no longer I’ll stay.”
+Hallelujah.
+
+
+And he got out of the basket, and cudgelled the parson out of the
+house.

content/library/grimm/096_the_three_little_birds.txt

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+The Three Little Birds
+
+About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this country nothing
+but small kings, and one of them who lived on the Keuterberg was very
+fond of hunting. Once on a time when he was riding forth from his
+castle with his huntsmen, three girls were watching their cows upon the
+mountain, and when they saw the King with all his followers, the eldest
+girl pointed to him, and called to the two other girls, “If I do not
+get that one, I will have none.” Then the second girl answered from the
+other side of the hill, and pointed to the one who was on the King’s
+right hand, “Hilloa! hilloa! If I do not get him, I will have no one.”
+These, however, were the two ministers. The King heard all this, and
+when he had come back from the chase, he caused the three girls to be
+brought to him, and asked them what they had said yesterday on the
+mountain. This they would not tell him, so the King asked the eldest if
+she really would take him for her husband? Then she said, “Yes,” and
+the two ministers married the two sisters, for they were all three fair
+and beautiful of face, especially the Queen, who had hair like flax.
+But the two sisters had no children, and once when the King was obliged
+to go from home he invited them to come to the Queen in order to cheer
+her, for she was about to bear a child. She had a little boy who
+brought a bright red star into the world with him. Then the two sisters
+said to each other that they would throw the beautiful boy into the
+water. When they had thrown him in (I believe it was into the Weser) a
+little bird flew up into the air, which sang,
+
+“To thy death art thou sped,
+Until God’s word be said.
+In the white lily bloom,
+Brave boy, is thy tomb.”
+
+
+When the two heard that, they were frightened to death, and ran away in
+great haste. When the King came home they told him that the Queen had
+been delivered of a dog. Then the King said, “What God does, is well
+done!” But a fisherman who dwelt near the water fished the little boy
+out again while he was still alive, and as his wife had no children,
+they reared him. When a year had gone by, the King again went away, and
+the Queen had another little boy, whom the false sisters likewise took
+and threw into the water. Then up flew a little bird again and sang,
+
+“To thy death art thou sped,
+Until God’s word be said.
+In the white lily bloom,
+Brave boy, is thy tomb.”
+
+
+And when the King came back, they told him that the Queen had once more
+given birth to a dog, and he again said, “What God does, is well done.”
+The fisherman, however, fished this one also out of the water, and
+reared him.
+
+Then the King again journeyed forth, and the Queen had a little girl,
+whom also the false sisters threw into the water. Then again a little
+bird flew up on high and sang,
+
+“To thy death art thou sped
+Until God’s word be said.
+In the white lily bloom,
+Bonny girl, is thy tomb.”
+
+
+And when the King came home they told him that the Queen had been
+delivered of a cat. Then the King grew angry, and ordered his wife to
+be cast into prison, and therein was she shut up for many long years.
+
+In the meantime the children had grown up. Then eldest once went out
+with some other boys to fish, but the other boys would not have him
+with them, and said, “Go thy way, foundling.”
+
+Hereupon he was much troubled, and asked the old fisherman if that was
+true? The fisherman told him that once when he was fishing he had drawn
+him out of the water. So the boy said he would go forth and seek his
+father. The fisherman, however, entreated him to stay, but he would not
+let himself be hindered, and at last the fisherman consented. Then the
+boy went on his way and walked for many days, and at last he came to a
+great piece of water by the side of which stood an old woman fishing.
+“Good day, mother,” said the boy.
+
+“Many thanks,” said she.
+
+“Thou wilt fish long enough before thou catchest anything.”
+
+“And thou wilt seek long enough before thou findest thy father. How
+wilt thou get over the water?” said the woman.
+
+“God knows.”
+
+Then the old woman took him up on her back and carried him through it,
+and he sought for a long time, but could not find his father.
+
+When a year had gone by, the second boy set out to seek his brother. He
+came to the water, and all fared with him just as with his brother. And
+now there was no one at home but the daughter, and she mourned for her
+brothers so much that at last she also begged the fisherman to let her
+set forth, for she wished to go in search of her brothers. Then she
+likewise came to the great piece of water, and she said to the old
+woman, “Good day, mother.”
+
+“Many thanks,” replied the old woman.
+
+“May God help you with your fishing,” said the maiden. When the old
+woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried her over the
+water, gave her a wand, and said to her, “Go, my daughter, ever onwards
+by this road, and when you come to a great black dog, you must pass it
+silently and boldly, without either laughing or looking at it. Then you
+will come to a great high castle, on the threshold of which you must
+let the wand fall, and go straight through the castle, and out again on
+the other side. There you will see an old fountain out of which a large
+tree has grown, whereon hangs a bird in a cage which you must take
+down. Take likewise a glass of water out of the fountain, and with
+these two things go back by the same way. Pick up the wand again from
+the threshold and take it with you, and when you again pass by the dog,
+strike him in the face with it, but be sure that you hit him, and then
+just come back here to me.” The maiden found everything exactly as the
+old woman had said, and on her way back she found her two brothers who
+had sought each other over half the world. They went together to the
+place where the black dog was lying on the road; she struck it in the
+face, and it turned into a handsome prince who went with them to the
+river. There the old woman was still standing. She rejoiced much to see
+them again, and carried them all over the water, and then she too went
+away, for now she was freed. The others, however, went to the old
+fisherman, and all were glad that they had found each other again, but
+they hung the bird on the wall.
+
+But the second son could not settle at home, and took his cross-bow and
+went a-hunting. When he was tired he took his flute, and made music.
+The King was hunting too, and heard that and went thither, and when he
+met the youth, he said, “Who has given thee leave to hunt here?”
+
+“Oh, no one.”
+
+“To whom dost thou belong, then?”
+
+“I am the fisherman’s son.”
+
+“But he has no children.”
+
+“If thou wilt not believe, come with me.”
+
+That the King did, and questioned the fisherman, who told everything to
+him, and the little bird on the wall began to sing,
+
+“The mother sits alone
+There in the prison small,
+O King of royal blood,
+These are thy children all.
+The sisters twain so false,
+They wrought the children woe,
+There in the waters deep
+Where the fishermen come and go.”
+
+
+Then they were all terrified, and the King took the bird, the fisherman
+and the three children back with him to the castle, and ordered the
+prison to be opened and brought his wife out again. She had, however,
+grown quite ill and weak. Then the daughter gave her some of the water
+of the fountain to drink, and she became strong and healthy. But the
+two false sisters were burnt, and the daughter married the prince.

content/library/grimm/097_the_water_of_life.txt

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+The Water of Life
+
+There was once a King who had an illness, and no one believed that he
+would come out of it with his life. He had three sons who were much
+distressed about it, and went down into the palace-garden and wept.
+There they met an old man who inquired as to the cause of their grief.
+They told him that their father was so ill that he would most certainly
+die, for nothing seemed to cure him. Then the old man said, “I know of
+one more remedy, and that is the water of life; if he drinks of it he
+will become well again; but it is hard to find.” The eldest said, “I
+will manage to find it,” and went to the sick King, and begged to be
+allowed to go forth in search of the water of life, for that alone
+could save him. “No,” said the King, “the danger of it is too great. I
+would rather die.” But he begged so long that the King consented. The
+prince thought in his heart, “If I bring the water, then I shall be
+best beloved of my father, and shall inherit the kingdom.” So he set
+out, and when he had ridden forth a little distance, a dwarf stood
+there in the road who called to him and said, “Whither away so fast?”
+“Silly shrimp,” said the prince, very haughtily, “it is nothing to do
+with you,” and rode on. But the little dwarf had grown angry, and had
+wished an evil wish. Soon after this the prince entered a ravine, and
+the further he rode the closer the mountains drew together, and at last
+the road became so narrow that he could not advance a step further; it
+was impossible either to turn his horse or to dismount from the saddle,
+and he was shut in there as if in prison. The sick King waited long for
+him, but he came not. Then the second son said, “Father, let me go
+forth to seek the water,” and thought to himself, “If my brother is
+dead, then the kingdom will fall to me.” At first the King would not
+allow him to go either, but at last he yielded, so the prince set out
+on the same road that his brother had taken, and he too met the dwarf,
+who stopped him to ask, whither he was going in such haste? “Little
+shrimp,” said the prince, “that is nothing to thee,” and rode on
+without giving him another look. But the dwarf bewitched him, and he,
+like the other, rode into a ravine, and could neither go forwards nor
+backwards. So fare haughty people.
+
+As the second son also remained away, the youngest begged to be allowed
+to go forth to fetch the water, and at last the King was obliged to let
+him go. When he met the dwarf and the latter asked him whither he was
+going in such haste, he stopped, gave him an explanation, and said, “I
+am seeking the water of life, for my father is sick unto death.” “Dost
+thou know, then, where that is to be found?” “No,” said the prince. “As
+thou hast borne thyself as is seemly, and not haughtily like thy false
+brothers, I will give thee the information and tell thee how thou mayst
+obtain the water of life. It springs from a fountain in the courtyard
+of an enchanted castle, but thou wilt not be able to make thy way to
+it, if I do not give thee an iron wand and two small loaves of bread.
+Strike thrice with the wand on the iron door of the castle and it will
+spring open: inside lie two lions with gaping jaws, but if thou
+throwest a loaf to each of them, they will be quieted. Then hasten to
+fetch some of the water of life before the clock strikes twelve, else
+the door will shut again, and thou wilt be imprisoned.” The prince
+thanked him, took the wand and the bread, and set out on his way. When
+he arrived, everything was as the dwarf had said. The door sprang open
+at the third stroke of the wand, and when he had appeased the lions
+with the bread, he entered the castle, and came to a large and splendid
+hall, wherein sat some enchanted princes whose rings he drew off their
+fingers. A sword and a loaf of bread were lying there, which he carried
+away. After this, he entered a chamber, in which was a beautiful maiden
+who rejoiced when she saw him, kissed him, and told him that he had
+delivered her, and should have the whole of her kingdom, and that if he
+would return in a year their wedding should be celebrated; likewise she
+told him where the spring of the water of life was, and that he was to
+hasten and draw some of it before the clock struck twelve. Then he went
+onwards, and at last entered a room where there was a beautiful
+newly-made bed, and as he was very weary, he felt inclined to rest a
+little. So he lay down and fell asleep. When he awoke, it was striking
+a quarter to twelve. He sprang up in a fright, ran to the spring, drew
+some water in a cup which stood near, and hastened away. But just as he
+was passing through the iron door, the clock struck twelve, and the
+door fell to with such violence that it carried away a piece of his
+heel. He, however, rejoicing at having obtained the water of life, went
+homewards, and again passed the dwarf. When the latter saw the sword
+and the loaf, he said, “With these thou hast won great wealth; with the
+sword thou canst slay whole armies, and the bread will never come to an
+end.” But the prince would not go home to his father without his
+brothers, and said, “Dear dwarf, canst thou not tell me where my two
+brothers are? They went out before I did in search of the water of
+life, and have not returned.” “They are imprisoned between two
+mountains,” said the dwarf. “I have condemned them to stay there,
+because they were so haughty.” Then the prince begged until the dwarf
+released them; but he warned him, however, and said, “Beware of them,
+for they have bad hearts.” When his brothers came, he rejoiced, and
+told them how things had gone with him, that he had found the water of
+life and had brought a cupful away with him, and had rescued a
+beautiful princess, who was willing to wait a year for him, and then
+their wedding was to be celebrated and he would obtain a great kingdom.
+After that they rode on together, and chanced upon a land where war and
+famine reigned, and the King already thought he must perish, for the
+scarcity was so great. Then the prince went to him and gave him the
+loaf, wherewith he fed and satisfied the whole of his kingdom, and then
+the prince gave him the sword also wherewith he slew the hosts of his
+enemies, and could now live in rest and peace. The prince then took
+back his loaf and his sword, and the three brothers rode on. But after
+this they entered two more countries where war and famine reigned and
+each time the prince gave his loaf and his sword to the Kings, and had
+now delivered three kingdoms, and after that they went on board a ship
+and sailed over the sea. During the passage, the two eldest conversed
+apart and said, “The youngest has found the water of life and not we,
+for that our father will give him the kingdom the kingdom which belongs
+to us, and he will rob us of all our fortune.” They then began to seek
+revenge, and plotted with each other to destroy him. They waited until
+they found him fast asleep, then they poured the water of life out of
+the cup, and took it for themselves, but into the cup they poured salt
+sea-water. Now therefore, when they arrived home, the youngest took his
+cup to the sick King in order that he might drink out of it, and be
+cured. But scarcely had he drunk a very little of the salt sea-water
+than he became still worse than before. And as he was lamenting over
+this, the two eldest brothers came, and accused the youngest of having
+intended to poison him, and said that they had brought him the true
+water of life, and handed it to him. He had scarcely tasted it, when he
+felt his sickness departing, and became strong and healthy as in the
+days of his youth. After that they both went to the youngest, mocked
+him, and said, “You certainly found the water of life, but you have had
+the pain, and we the gain; you should have been sharper, and should
+have kept your eyes open. We took it from you whilst you were asleep at
+sea, and when a year is over, one of us will go and fetch the beautiful
+princess. But beware that you do not disclose aught of this to our
+father; indeed he does not trust you, and if you say a single word, you
+shall lose your life into the bargain, but if you keep silent, you
+shall have it as a gift.”
+
+The old King was angry with his youngest son, and thought he had
+plotted against his life. So he summoned the court together and had
+sentence pronounced upon his son, that he should be secretly shot. And
+once when the prince was riding forth to the chase, suspecting no evil,
+the King’s huntsman had to go with him, and when they were quite alone
+in the forest, the huntsman looked so sorrowful that the prince said to
+him, “Dear huntsman, what ails you?” The huntsman said, “I cannot tell
+you, and yet I ought.” Then the prince said, “Say openly what it is, I
+will pardon you.” “Alas!” said the huntsman, “I am to shoot you dead,
+the King has ordered me to do it.” Then the prince was shocked, and
+said, “Dear huntsman, let me live; there, I give you my royal garments;
+give me your common ones in their stead.” The huntsman said, “I will
+willingly do that, indeed I should not have been able to shoot you.”
+Then they exchanged clothes, and the huntsman returned home; the
+prince, however, went further into the forest. After a time three
+waggons of gold and precious stones came to the King for his youngest
+son, which were sent by the three Kings who had slain their enemies
+with the prince’s sword, and maintained their people with his bread,
+and who wished to show their gratitude for it. The old King then
+thought, “Can my son have been innocent?” and said to his people,
+“Would that he were still alive, how it grieves me that I have suffered
+him to be killed!” “He still lives,” said the huntsman, “I could not
+find it in my heart to carry out your command,” and told the King how
+it had happened. Then a stone fell from the King’s heart, and he had it
+proclaimed in every country that his son might return and be taken into
+favour again.
+
+The princess, however, had a road made up to her palace which was quite
+bright and golden, and told her people that whosoever came riding
+straight along it to her, would be the right wooer and was to be
+admitted, and whoever rode by the side of it, was not the right one,
+and was not to be admitted. As the time was now close at hand, the
+eldest thought he would hasten to go to the King’s daughter, and give
+himself out as her deliverer, and thus win her for his bride, and the
+kingdom to boot. Therefore he rode forth, and when he arrived in front
+of the palace, and saw the splendid golden road, he thought, it would
+be a sin and a shame if he were to ride over that, and turned aside,
+and rode on the right side of it. But when he came to the door, the
+servants told him that he was not the right man, and was to go away
+again. Soon after this the second prince set out, and when he came to
+the golden road, and his horse had put one foot on it, he thought, it
+would be a sin and a shame to tread a piece of it off, and he turned
+aside and rode on the left side of it, and when he reached the door,
+the attendants told him he was not the right one, and he was to go away
+again. When at last the year had entirely expired, the third son
+likewise wished to ride out of the forest to his beloved, and with her
+forget his sorrows. So he set out and thought of her so incessantly,
+and wished to be with her so much, that he never noticed the golden
+road at all. So his horse rode onwards up the middle of it, and when he
+came to the door, it was opened and the princess received him with joy,
+and said he was her deliverer, and lord of the kingdom, and their
+wedding was celebrated with great rejoicing. When it was over she told
+him that his father invited him to come to him, and had forgiven him.
+So he rode thither, and told him everything; how his brothers had
+betrayed him, and how he had nevertheless kept silence. The old King
+wished to punish them, but they had put to sea, and never came back as
+long as they lived.

content/library/grimm/098_doctor_knowall.txt

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+Doctor Knowall
+
+There was once on a time a poor peasant called Crabb, who drove with
+two oxen a load of wood to the town, and sold it to a doctor for two
+thalers. When the money was being counted out to him, it so happened
+that the doctor was sitting at table, and when the peasant saw how
+daintily he ate and drank, his heart desired what he saw, and he would
+willingly have been a doctor too. So he remained standing a while, and
+at length inquired if he too could not be a doctor. “Oh, yes,” said the
+doctor, “that is soon managed.” “What must I do?” asked the peasant.
+“In the first place buy thyself an A B C book of the kind which has a
+cock on the frontispiece: in the second, turn thy cart and thy two oxen
+into money, and get thyself some clothes, and whatsoever else pertains
+to medicine; thirdly, have a sign painted for thyself with the words,
+“I am Doctor Knowall,” and have that nailed up above thy house-door.”
+The peasant did everything that he had been told to do. When he had
+doctored people awhile, but not long, a rich and great lord had some
+money stolen. Then he was told about Doctor Knowall who lived in such
+and such a village, and must know what had become of the money. So the
+lord had the horses put in his carriage, drove out to the village, and
+asked Crabb if he were Doctor Knowall? Yes, he was, he said. Then he
+was to go with him and bring back the stolen money. “Oh, yes, but
+Grethe, my wife, must go too.” The lord was willing and let both of
+them have a seat in the carriage, and they all drove away together.
+When they came to the nobleman’s castle, the table was spread, and
+Crabb was told to sit down and eat. “Yes, but my wife, Grethe, too,”
+said he, and he seated himself with her at the table. And when the
+first servant came with a dish of delicate fare, the peasant nudged his
+wife, and said, “Grethe, that was the first,” meaning that was the
+servant who brought the first dish. The servant, however, thought he
+intended by that to say, “That is the first thief,” and as he actually
+was so, he was terrified, and said to his comrade outside, “The doctor
+knows all: we shall fare ill, he said I was the first.” The second did
+not want to go in at all, but was forced. So when he went in with his
+dish, the peasant nudged his wife, and said, “Grethe, that is the
+second.” This servant was just as much alarmed, and he got out. The
+third did not fare better, for the peasant again said, “Grethe, that is
+the third.” The fourth had to carry in a dish that was covered, and the
+lord told the doctor that he was to show his skill, and guess what was
+beneath the cover. The doctor looked at the dish, had no idea what to
+say, and cried, “Ah, poor Crabb.” When the lord heard that, he cried,
+“There! he knows it, he knows who has the money!”
+
+On this the servants looked terribly uneasy, and made a sign to the
+doctor that they wished him to step outside for a moment. When
+therefore he went out, all four of them confessed to him that they had
+stolen the money, and said that they would willingly restore it and
+give him a heavy sum into the bargain, if he would not denounce them,
+for if he did they would be hanged. They led him to the spot where the
+money was concealed. With this the doctor was satisfied, and returned
+to the hall, sat down to the table, and said, “My lord, now will I
+search in my book where the gold is hidden.” The fifth servant,
+however, crept into the stove to hear if the doctor knew still more.
+The Doctor, however, sat still and opened his A B C book, turned the
+pages backwards and forwards, and looked for the cock. As he could not
+find it immediately he said, “I know you are there, so you had better
+show yourself.” Then the fellow in the stove thought that the doctor
+meant him, and full of terror, sprang out, crying, “That man knows
+everything!” Then Dr. Knowall showed the count where the money was, but
+did not say who had stolen it, and received from both sides much money
+in reward, and became a renowned man.

content/library/grimm/099_the_spirit_in_the_bottle.txt

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+The Spirit in the Bottle
+
+There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early morning till
+late night. When at last he had laid by some money he said to his boy,
+“You are my only child, I will spend the money which I have earned with
+the sweat of my brow on your education; if you learn some honest trade
+you can support me in my old age, when my limbs have grown stiff and I
+am obliged to stay at home.” Then the boy went to a High School and
+learned diligently so that his masters praised him, and he remained
+there a long time. When he had worked through two classes, but was
+still not yet perfect in everything, the little pittance which the
+father had earned was all spent, and the boy was obliged to return home
+to him. “Ah,” said the father, sorrowfully, “I can give you no more,
+and in these hard times I cannot earn a farthing more than will suffice
+for our daily bread.” “Dear father,” answered the son, “don’t trouble
+yourself about it, if it is God’s will, it will turn to my advantage I
+shall soon accustom myself to it.” When the father wanted to go into
+the forest to earn money by helping to pile and stack wood and also
+chop it, the son said, “I will go with you and help you.” “Nay, my
+son,” said the father, “that would be hard for you; you are not
+accustomed to rough work, and will not be able to bear it, besides I
+have only one axe and no money left wherewith to buy another.” “Just go
+to the neighbour,” answered the son, “he will lend you his axe until I
+have earned one for myself.” The father then borrowed an axe of the
+neighbour, and next morning at break of day they went out into the
+forest together. The son helped his father and was quite merry and
+brisk about it. But when the sun was right over their heads, the father
+said, “We will rest, and have our dinner, and then we shall work as
+well again.” The son took his bread in his hands, and said, “Just you
+rest, father, I am not tired; I will walk up and down a little in the
+forest, and look for birds’ nests.” “Oh, you fool,” said the father,
+“why should you want to run about there? Afterwards you will be tired,
+and no longer able to raise your arm; stay here, and sit down beside
+me.” The son, however, went into the forest, ate his bread, was very
+merry and peered in among the green branches to see if he could
+discover a bird’s nest anywhere. So he went up and down to see if he
+could find a bird’s nest until at last he came to a great
+dangerous-looking oak, which certainly was already many hundred years
+old, and which five men could not have spanned. He stood still and
+looked at it, and thought, “Many a bird must have built its nest in
+that.” Then all at once it seemed to him that he heard a voice. He
+listened and became aware that someone was crying in a very smothered
+voice, “Let me out, let me out!” He looked around, but could discover
+nothing; nevertheless, he fancied that the voice came out of the
+ground. Then he cried, “Where art thou?” The voice answered, “I am down
+here amongst the roots of the oak-tree. Let me out! Let me out!” The
+scholar began to loosen the earth under the tree, and search among the
+roots, until at last he found a glass bottle in a little hollow. He
+lifted it up and held it against the light, and then saw a creature
+shaped like a frog, springing up and down in it. “Let me out! Let me
+out!” it cried anew, and the scholar thinking no evil, drew the cork
+out of the bottle. Immediately a spirit ascended from it, and began to
+grow, and grew so fast that in a very few moments he stood before the
+scholar, a terrible fellow as big as half the tree by which he was
+standing. “Knowest thou,” he cried in an awful voice, “what thy wages
+are for having let me out?” “No,” replied the scholar fearlessly, “how
+should I know that?” “Then I will tell thee,” cried the spirit; “I must
+strangle thee for it.” “Thou shouldst have told me that sooner,” said
+the scholar, “for I should then have left thee shut up, but my head
+shall stand fast for all thou canst do; more persons than one must be
+consulted about that.” “More persons here, more persons there,” said
+the spirit. “Thou shalt have the wages thou hast earned. Dost thou
+think that I was shut up there for such a long time as a favour. No, it
+was a punishment for me. I am the mighty Mercurius. Whoso releases me,
+him must I strangle.” “Softly,” answered the scholar, “not so fast. I
+must first know that thou really wert shut up in that little bottle,
+and that thou art the right spirit. If, indeed, thou canst get in
+again, I will believe and then thou mayst do as thou wilt with me.” The
+spirit said haughtily, “that is a very trifling feat,” drew himself
+together, and made himself as small and slender as he had been at
+first, so that he crept through the same opening, and right through the
+neck of the bottle in again. Scarcely was he within than the scholar
+thrust the cork he had drawn back into the bottle, and threw it among
+the roots of the oak into its old place, and the spirit was betrayed.
+
+And now the scolar was about to return to his father, but the spirit
+cried very piteously, “Ah, do let me out! ah, do let me out!” “No,”
+answered the scholar, “not a second time! He who has once tried to take
+my life shall not be set free by me, now that I have caught him again.”
+“If thou wilt set me free,” said the spirit, “I will give thee so much
+that thou wilt have plenty all the days of thy life.” “No,” answered
+the boy, “thou wouldst cheat me as thou didst the first time.” “Thou
+art playing away with thy own good luck,” said the spirit; “I will do
+thee no harm but will reward thee richly.” The scholar thought, “I will
+venture it, perhaps he will keep his word, and anyhow he shall not get
+the better of me.” Then he took out the cork, and the spirit rose up
+from the bottle as he had done before, stretched himself out and became
+as big as a giant. “Now thou shalt have thy reward,” said he, and
+handed the scholar a little bag just like a plaster, and said, “If thou
+spreadest one end of this over a wound it will heal, and if thou
+rubbest steel or iron with the other end it will be changed into
+silver.” “I must just try that,” said the scholar, and went to a tree,
+tore off the bark with his axe, and rubbed it with one end of the
+plaster. It immediately closed together and was healed. “Now, it is all
+right,” he said to the spirit, “and we can part.” The spirit thanked
+him for his release, and the boy thanked the spirit for his present,
+and went back to his father.
+
+“Where hast thou been racing about?” said the father; “why hast thou
+forgotten thy work? I said at once that thou wouldst never get on with
+anything.” “Be easy, father, I will make it up.” “Make it up indeed,”
+said the father angrily, “there’s no art in that.” “Take care, father,
+I will soon hew that tree there, so that it will split.” Then he took
+his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and dealt a mighty blow, but as
+the iron had changed into silver, the edge turned; “Hollo, father, just
+look what a bad axe you’ve given me, it has become quite crooked.” The
+father was shocked and said, “Ah, what hast thou done? now I shall have
+to pay for that, and have not the wherewithal, and that is all the good
+I have got by thy work.” “Don’t get angry,” said the son, “I will soon
+pay for the axe.” “Oh, thou blockhead,” cried the father, “wherewith
+wilt thou pay for it? Thou hast nothing but what I give thee. These are
+students’ tricks that are sticking in thy head, but thou hast no idea
+of wood-cutting.” After a while the scholar said, “Father, I can really
+work no more, we had better take a holiday.” “Eh, what!” answered he,
+“Dost thou think I will sit with my hands lying in my lap like thee? I
+must go on working, but thou mayst take thyself off home.” “Father, I
+am here in this wood for the first time, I don’t know my way alone. Do
+go with me.” As his anger had now abated, the father at last let
+himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the son,
+“Go and sell thy damaged axe, and see what thou canst get for it, and I
+must earn the difference, in order to pay the neighbour.” The son took
+the axe, and carried it into town to a goldsmith, who tested it, laid
+it in the scales, and said, “It is worth four hundred thalers, I have
+not so much as that by me.” The son said, “Give me what thou hast, I
+will lend you the rest.” The goldsmith gave him three hundred thalers,
+and remained a hundred in his debt. The son thereupon went home and
+said, “Father, I have got the money, go and ask the neighbour what he
+wants for the axe.” “I know that already,” answered the old man, “one
+thaler, six groschen.” “Then give him two thalers, twelve groschen,
+that is double and enough; see, I have money in plenty,” and he gave
+the father a hundred thalers, and said, “You shall never know want,
+live as comfortably as you like.” “Good heavens!” said the father, “how
+hast thou come by these riches?” The scholar then told how all had come
+to pass, and how he, trusting in his luck, had made such a good hit.
+But with the money that was left, he went back to the High School and
+went on learning more, and as he could heal all wounds with his
+plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world.