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design/thi
575 changed files with 1216 additions and 91507 deletions
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@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ Telnet MUD engine built on telnetlib3. Python 3.12+, managed with uv.
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## Commands
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- `just check` - lint (ruff --fix + format), typecheck (ty), test (pytest)
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- `just check` - lint (ruff --fix + format), typecheck (pyright), test (pytest)
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- `just lint` / `just typecheck` / `just test` - individual steps
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- `just run` - start the server (`python -m mudlib`)
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- `just debug` - start with debug logging
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@ -14,22 +14,16 @@ Telnet MUD engine built on telnetlib3. Python 3.12+, managed with uv.
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- `src/mudlib/` - the engine (commands, world, combat, render, store)
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- `tests/` - pytest tests
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- `content/` - content definitions (commands, combat moves) loaded at runtime
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- `worlds/` - world definition files (yaml/toml, version controlled)
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- `docs/` - project knowledge (see below)
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- `DREAMBOOK.md` - the vision, philosophy, wild ideas. not a spec
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- `scripts/` - standalone tools (map renderer, etc)
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- `build/` - generated output (gitignored)
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- `repos/` - symlinked reference repos, gitignored, not our code. includes:
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- `repos/viola/` - DFillmore/viola z-machine interpreter (working, global state)
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- `repos/zvm/` - sussman/zvm z-machine interpreter (clean architecture, half-built)
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- `repos/telnetlib3/`, `repos/miniboa/` - telnet libraries
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- `repos/` - symlinked reference repos (telnetlib3, miniboa). gitignored, not our code
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## Docs
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Consult `docs/index.rst` when starting unfamiliar work to find relevant docs.
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Three categories in `docs/`. Plain text or rst, not markdown.
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Three categories in `docs/`. Plain text, not markdown.
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- `docs/how/` - how things work. write one when you build something non-obvious.
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terrain generation, command system, etc. aimed at someone reading the code
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@ -55,13 +49,6 @@ Update docs when:
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- world definitions live in data files, runtime state lives in memory
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- SQLite for persistence (player accounts, progress)
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- session mode stack filters what events reach the player (normal/combat/editor)
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- combat system: state machine with TOML-defined moves (attacks, defends, counters). see `docs/how/combat.rst`
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- moves with directional variants (punch left/right) use a single TOML with `[variants]` sections
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- commands are always single words; direction is an argument, not part of the command name
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- content loading: TOML definitions for commands and combat moves, loaded at startup
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- entity model: Entity base class, Player and Mob subclasses sharing common interface
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- editor mode: in-world text editor with syntax highlighting and search/replace
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- IF mode: interactive fiction via dfrotz subprocess, mode stack integration, spectator broadcasting. see `docs/how/if-terminal.txt`
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## Style
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@ -1,17 +0,0 @@
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__pycache__
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*.pyc
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.git
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.gitignore
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.worktrees
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.testmondata
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repos
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build
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data
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*.egg-info
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.ruff_cache
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.pytest_cache
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docs
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tests
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TODO.md
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DREAMBOOK.md
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dbzfe.log
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3
.gitignore
vendored
3
.gitignore
vendored
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@ -4,6 +4,3 @@ build
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data
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.worktrees
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.testmondata
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*.z*
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debug.log
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disasm.log
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@ -1 +0,0 @@
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@.claude/CLAUDE.md
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111
BRAINSTORM.txt
111
BRAINSTORM.txt
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@ -1,111 +0,0 @@
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- some conditiosn you cannot attack someone in
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* theyre in combat already
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* theyre in a safe area
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* theyre not within your power level range, idk if that is 5-10%, and
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i mean potential PL. no powering down games, thatd let you destroy brand
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new players
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* brand new players have a safe window of say, 1 hour play time
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- i think maybe the world is cleaned up by both animals and janitors
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- look <object>
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otherwise look just.. looks
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- i cannot pr goblin, like, it works but also
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- cannot quit in combat
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* combat should end after 30 seconds of no hits landed
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- "safe zone" is a region in a zone that combat cannot occur
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- fly
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You rise into the sky.
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shmup rises into the sky.
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- fly <target>
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You begin flying towards <target>!
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You arrive at <target>'s location.
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- <100%> / <200/200>
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- [TIP] for new players?
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- really, PVP is what made dbzfe so exhilerating
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- score command
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stats
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profile
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k/d ratio
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- alias (command)
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syntax: alias <name> <command>
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example: alias pr punch right
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- IF: when i move it says the room name like "Behind House", but i have to type
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l to look. is this normal? (in zork)
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- what does it mean for a player to have some commands/skills not all, and to unlock more
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- corpse
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a corpse is a container
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you can get things out of it
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<thing>'s corpse decomposes. (idk after how long)
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get all from corpse
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- containers
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we'll need commands/parser for
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get all from corpse
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get armour from corpse
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get 2.armour from corpse
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get arm from corpse (gets the first match, all do really for whatever the string is)
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put <thing> in <container>
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- prompt parser
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discworld has a very fancy parser
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i nvr thought about the parser in dbzfe, bc its a simple mud
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and i guess i nvr really thought about it much in realms of despair, smaug
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may also be way simpler than fluffos or whatever
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- Syntax: power <up | down | stop | number>
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(typing just power shows this. thats how all commands work that have args,
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shows the syntax. its help <thing> that shows more (descriptoin and etc)
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<100%> / <93/207>
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power up
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You begin to power up!
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<100%> / <93/207>
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Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
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<92.59%> / <107/207>
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Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
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<85.19%> / <121/207>
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Sweat rolls down your brow as you begin to focus.
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You feel more confident using power.
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<77.78%> / <135/207>
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power stop
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You stop altering your powerlevel.
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--------------
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Grimm's Library
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stories all as txt files, scoured across library. you can look for things
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yourself, but there is no search command
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to find something by keywords, you can ask a librarian and they will help you
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determine which story you're looking for
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if you try to steal a book, take it out of the library, you will go to some
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comedic notion of jail/hell/idk. perhaps on display dressed as a clown in the
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town square
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- what are titles of the oldest forms of librarians, monks? maybe monks are walking around all over
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28
Dockerfile
28
Dockerfile
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@ -1,28 +0,0 @@
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FROM python:3.13-slim
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COPY --from=ghcr.io/astral-sh/uv:latest /uv /uvx /bin/
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# frotz provides dfrotz (z-machine interpreter for interactive fiction)
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RUN apt-get update \
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&& apt-get install -y --no-install-recommends frotz \
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&& rm -rf /var/lib/apt/lists/*
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WORKDIR /app
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# install deps first (better layer caching)
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COPY pyproject.toml ./
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# replace local-path telnetlib3 dep with PyPI version for container build
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RUN sed -i 's|telnetlib3 @ file:///home/jtm/src/telnetlib3|telnetlib3>=2.3.0|' pyproject.toml \
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&& uv sync --no-dev --no-install-project
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# copy project source and content
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COPY src/ src/
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COPY content/ content/
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COPY worlds/ worlds/
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RUN uv sync --no-dev
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EXPOSE 6789
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ENV MUD_HOST=0.0.0.0
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CMD ["uv", "run", "python", "-m", "mudlib"]
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32
LICENSE.txt
32
LICENSE.txt
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@ -1,32 +0,0 @@
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ANTI-CAPITALIST SOFTWARE LICENSE (v 1.4)
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Copyright © [2026] [Jared Tyler Miller <jared@smell.flowers>]
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This is anti-capitalist software, released for free use by individuals and
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organizations that do not operate by capitalist principles.
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Permission is hereby granted, free of charge, to any person or organization
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(the "User") obtaining a copy of this software and associated documentation
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||||
files (the "Software"), to use, copy, modify, merge, distribute, and/or sell
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copies of the Software, subject to the following conditions:
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||||
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||||
1. The above copyright notice and this permission notice shall be included in
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||||
all copies or modified versions of the Software.
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||||
2. The User is one of the following: a. An individual person, laboring for
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themselves b. A non-profit organization c. An educational institution d. An
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organization that seeks shared profit for all of its members, and allows
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non-members to set the cost of their labor
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3. If the User is an organization with owners, then all owners are workers and
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all workers are owners with equal equity and/or equal vote.
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4. If the User is an organization, then the User is not law enforcement or
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military, or working for or under either.
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THE SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED "AS IS", WITHOUT EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTY OF ANY
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KIND, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO THE WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY, FITNESS
|
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FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE AND NONINFRINGEMENT. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE AUTHORS BE
|
||||
LIABLE FOR ANY CLAIM, DAMAGES OR OTHER LIABILITY, WHETHER IN AN ACTION OF
|
||||
CONTRACT, TORT OR OTHERWISE, ARISING FROM, OUT OF OR IN CONNECTION WITH THE
|
||||
SOFTWARE OR THE USE OR OTHER DEALINGS IN THE SOFTWARE.
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19
README.md
19
README.md
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@ -1,8 +1,8 @@
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# mudlib
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a telnet MUD engine
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A telnet MUD engine. No client needed — just `telnet` and you're in.
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built on telnetlib3, python 3.12+, managed with uv.
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Built on telnetlib3, Python 3.12+, managed with uv.
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## Quickstart
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||||
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|
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@ -11,7 +11,7 @@ uv sync
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just run
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```
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then connect: `telnet localhost 6789`
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Then connect: `telnet localhost 6789`
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## Commands
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@ -30,6 +30,15 @@ just render # generate world map HTML
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- `docs/` — internal knowledge base
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- `DREAMBOOK.md` — vision and wild ideas
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||||
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## License
|
||||
## How it works
|
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|
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https://anticapitalist.software/
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The world is a toroidal 2D grid of terrain tiles, not discrete rooms. Players
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see a viewport centered on their position. Terrain types have mechanics —
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shallow water slows you, mountains block you, forests hide you.
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Combat is timing-based with telegraphed moves and cooldown management, not
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turn-based.
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The server runs a tick-based async game loop alongside the telnet server.
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SQLite handles persistence. Session mode stacks filter what reaches the player
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depending on context (exploring, fighting, composing, solving puzzles).
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|
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13
compose.yml
13
compose.yml
|
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@ -1,13 +0,0 @@
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services:
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mud:
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build: .
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ports:
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- "6789:6789"
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volumes:
|
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- mud-data:/app/data
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- mud-cache:/app/build
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restart: unless-stopped
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|
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volumes:
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mud-data:
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mud-cache:
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@ -1,10 +0,0 @@
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name = "dodge"
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description = "a quick sidestep to evade incoming attacks"
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move_type = "defense"
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stamina_cost = 3.0
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active_ms = 800
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recovery_ms = 2700
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[variants.left]
|
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|
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[variants.right]
|
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8
content/combat/dodge_left.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/dodge_left.toml
Normal file
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@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
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name = "dodge left"
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aliases = ["dl"]
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move_type = "defense"
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stamina_cost = 3.0
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telegraph = ""
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timing_window_ms = 800
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damage_pct = 0.0
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countered_by = []
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8
content/combat/dodge_right.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/dodge_right.toml
Normal file
|
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@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
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name = "dodge right"
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aliases = ["dr"]
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move_type = "defense"
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stamina_cost = 3.0
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telegraph = ""
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||||
timing_window_ms = 800
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.0
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countered_by = []
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,9 +1,8 @@
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name = "duck"
|
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description = "crouch down to avoid high attacks, leaving you vulnerable to low strikes"
|
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aliases = []
|
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move_type = "defense"
|
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stamina_cost = 3.0
|
||||
telegraph = ""
|
||||
active_ms = 600
|
||||
recovery_ms = 2900
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 700
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.0
|
||||
countered_by = []
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
@ -1,9 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "jump"
|
||||
description = "leap upward to evade low attacks, exposing you to high strikes"
|
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aliases = []
|
||||
move_type = "defense"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 4.0
|
||||
telegraph = ""
|
||||
active_ms = 600
|
||||
recovery_ms = 2900
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 700
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.0
|
||||
countered_by = []
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
@ -1,10 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "parry"
|
||||
description = "deflect an attack with precise timing, redirecting force rather than absorbing it"
|
||||
move_type = "defense"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 4.0
|
||||
active_ms = 400
|
||||
recovery_ms = 3100
|
||||
|
||||
[variants.high]
|
||||
|
||||
[variants.low]
|
||||
8
content/combat/parry_high.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/parry_high.toml
Normal file
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "parry high"
|
||||
aliases = ["f"]
|
||||
move_type = "defense"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 4.0
|
||||
telegraph = ""
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 500
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.0
|
||||
countered_by = []
|
||||
8
content/combat/parry_low.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/parry_low.toml
Normal file
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "parry low"
|
||||
aliases = ["v"]
|
||||
move_type = "defense"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 4.0
|
||||
telegraph = ""
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 500
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.0
|
||||
countered_by = []
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,20 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "punch"
|
||||
description = "a close-range strike with the fist, quick but predictable"
|
||||
move_type = "attack"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 5.0
|
||||
hit_time_ms = 3000
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.15
|
||||
|
||||
[variants.left]
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} retracts {his} left arm..."
|
||||
announce = "{attacker} throw{s} a left hook at {defender}!"
|
||||
resolve_hit = "{attacker} connect{s} with a left hook!"
|
||||
resolve_miss = "{defender} dodge{s} {attacker}'s left hook!"
|
||||
countered_by = ["dodge right", "parry high"]
|
||||
|
||||
[variants.right]
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} retracts {his} right arm..."
|
||||
announce = "{attacker} throw{s} a right hook at {defender}!"
|
||||
resolve_hit = "{attacker} connect{s} with a right hook!"
|
||||
resolve_miss = "{defender} dodge{s} {attacker}'s right hook!"
|
||||
countered_by = ["dodge left", "parry high"]
|
||||
8
content/combat/punch_left.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/punch_left.toml
Normal file
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "punch left"
|
||||
aliases = ["pl"]
|
||||
move_type = "attack"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 5.0
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} winds up a left hook!"
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 800
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.15
|
||||
countered_by = ["dodge right", "parry high"]
|
||||
8
content/combat/punch_right.toml
Normal file
8
content/combat/punch_right.toml
Normal file
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "punch right"
|
||||
aliases = ["pr"]
|
||||
move_type = "attack"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 5.0
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} winds up a right hook!"
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 800
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.15
|
||||
countered_by = ["dodge left", "parry high"]
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,15 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "roundhouse"
|
||||
description = "a spinning kick that sacrifices speed for devastating power"
|
||||
aliases = ["rh"]
|
||||
move_type = "attack"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 8.0
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} shifts {his} weight back..."
|
||||
announce = "{attacker} launch{es} a roundhouse kick at {defender}!"
|
||||
resolve_hit = "{attacker}'s roundhouse slams into {defender}!"
|
||||
resolve_miss = "{defender} counter{s} {attacker}'s roundhouse!"
|
||||
hit_time_ms = 3000
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} spins into a roundhouse kick!"
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 600
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.25
|
||||
countered_by = ["duck", "parry high", "parry low"]
|
||||
|
||||
[unlock]
|
||||
type = "kill_count"
|
||||
threshold = 5
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
@ -1,16 +1,8 @@
|
|||
name = "sweep"
|
||||
description = "a low kick targeting the legs, designed to take an opponent off balance"
|
||||
aliases = ["sw"]
|
||||
move_type = "attack"
|
||||
stamina_cost = 6.0
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} drops low..."
|
||||
announce = "{attacker} sweep{s} at {defender}'s legs!"
|
||||
resolve_hit = "{attacker}'s sweep catches {defender}'s legs!"
|
||||
resolve_miss = "{defender} jump{s} over {attacker}'s sweep!"
|
||||
hit_time_ms = 3000
|
||||
telegraph = "{attacker} drops low for a leg sweep!"
|
||||
timing_window_ms = 700
|
||||
damage_pct = 0.18
|
||||
countered_by = ["jump", "parry low"]
|
||||
|
||||
[unlock]
|
||||
type = "mob_kills"
|
||||
mob_name = "goblin"
|
||||
threshold = 3
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
@ -1,4 +1,5 @@
|
|||
name = "motd"
|
||||
aliases = ["message"]
|
||||
help = "display the message of the day"
|
||||
mode = "*"
|
||||
message = """
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
@ -1,4 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "prompt"
|
||||
help = "view or customize your prompt"
|
||||
mode = "*"
|
||||
handler = "mudlib.commands.prompt:cmd_prompt"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,4 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "rest"
|
||||
help = "restore stamina by resting"
|
||||
mode = "normal"
|
||||
handler = "mudlib.commands.rest:cmd_rest"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,5 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "sleep"
|
||||
help = "fall asleep for fastest stamina recovery (3x rest rate)"
|
||||
mode = "normal"
|
||||
handler = "mudlib.commands.sleep:cmd_sleep"
|
||||
aliases = ["wake"]
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,49 +0,0 @@
|
|||
npc_name = "librarian"
|
||||
root_node = "greeting"
|
||||
|
||||
[nodes.greeting]
|
||||
text = "Welcome to the library. How can I help you today?"
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.greeting.choices]]
|
||||
text = "I'm looking for a book."
|
||||
next_node = "book_search"
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.greeting.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Tell me about this place."
|
||||
next_node = "about_library"
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.greeting.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Goodbye."
|
||||
next_node = "farewell"
|
||||
|
||||
[nodes.book_search]
|
||||
text = "We have quite the collection. Fairy tales, mostly. Browse the shelves — you might find something that catches your eye."
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.book_search.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Any recommendations?"
|
||||
next_node = "recommendations"
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.book_search.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Thanks, I'll look around."
|
||||
next_node = "farewell"
|
||||
|
||||
[nodes.recommendations]
|
||||
text = "The Brothers Grimm collected some wonderful tales. 'The Golden Bird' is a personal favorite — a story about patience and trust."
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.recommendations.choices]]
|
||||
text = "I'll keep an eye out for it."
|
||||
next_node = "farewell"
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.recommendations.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Tell me about this place instead."
|
||||
next_node = "about_library"
|
||||
|
||||
[nodes.about_library]
|
||||
text = "This library was built to preserve the old stories. Every book here was carefully transcribed. Take your time — the stories aren't going anywhere."
|
||||
|
||||
[[nodes.about_library.choices]]
|
||||
text = "Thanks for the information."
|
||||
next_node = "farewell"
|
||||
|
||||
[nodes.farewell]
|
||||
text = "Happy reading. Come back anytime."
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,31 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "@help"
|
||||
title = "help system administration"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
the help system stores topics as TOML files in content/help/.
|
||||
each topic has a name, title, optional admin flag, and body text.
|
||||
|
||||
commands
|
||||
@help list all help topics
|
||||
@help create create a new topic (guided)
|
||||
@help create <name> create a new topic with the given name
|
||||
@help edit <topic> edit an existing topic
|
||||
@help remove <topic> remove a topic
|
||||
|
||||
creating topics
|
||||
@help create walks you through each field:
|
||||
name the topic name (what players type after 'help')
|
||||
title short description shown in listings
|
||||
admin only whether only admins can view it
|
||||
body the help text (opens in the editor)
|
||||
|
||||
editing topics
|
||||
@help edit shows current values for each field.
|
||||
press enter to keep the current value.
|
||||
the editor opens with the existing body text.
|
||||
|
||||
files
|
||||
topics are stored in content/help/<name>.toml
|
||||
they can also be edited directly with any text editor.
|
||||
changes are loaded at server startup.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,42 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "admin-commands"
|
||||
title = "admin command reference"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
quick reference for admin @ commands.
|
||||
|
||||
world building
|
||||
@zones list all zones
|
||||
@goto <zone> teleport to zone spawn point
|
||||
@dig <name> <w> <h> create new zone
|
||||
@paint toggle terrain paint mode
|
||||
@save save current zone to file
|
||||
@place <thing> place a thing at your position
|
||||
|
||||
spawning
|
||||
spawn <mob> spawn a mob at your tile
|
||||
|
||||
content management
|
||||
reload <name> hot-reload TOML definition
|
||||
edit <move> edit combat move in-game
|
||||
|
||||
help topics
|
||||
@help list all help topics
|
||||
@help create create new help topic
|
||||
@help edit <topic> edit existing topic
|
||||
@help remove <topic> remove topic
|
||||
|
||||
player management
|
||||
@promote <player> grant admin status
|
||||
@demote <player> revoke admin status
|
||||
|
||||
paint mode (after @paint)
|
||||
p toggle painting on/off
|
||||
brush <char> set brush character
|
||||
movement paint or survey while moving
|
||||
|
||||
other useful commands
|
||||
power up/down/<num> manage power level
|
||||
snapneck <target> instant kill unconscious target
|
||||
|
||||
see also: help building, help spawning, help editing, help content
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,38 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "building"
|
||||
title = "building zones"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
zones are spatial containers with terrain grids. this is the full workflow
|
||||
for creating and editing zones.
|
||||
|
||||
creating zones
|
||||
@dig <name> <w> <h> create a blank zone and teleport there
|
||||
example: @dig castle 20 15
|
||||
|
||||
editing terrain
|
||||
@paint toggle paint mode on/off
|
||||
p toggle painting (while in paint mode)
|
||||
brush <char> set the brush character
|
||||
movement paint or survey as you move
|
||||
|
||||
paint mode lets you edit terrain tile-by-tile. after entering paint mode:
|
||||
- move around to survey
|
||||
- set a brush character (. for grass, # for wall, etc)
|
||||
- press 'p' to start painting
|
||||
- move to paint tiles
|
||||
- press 'p' again to stop painting
|
||||
|
||||
placing objects
|
||||
@place <thing> place a thing at your position
|
||||
available things: bookshelf, chair, chest, fountain, lamp, nail,
|
||||
painting, plank, rock, rug, sack, table
|
||||
|
||||
persisting changes
|
||||
@save save current zone to content/zones/<name>.toml
|
||||
|
||||
navigating
|
||||
@zones list all zones
|
||||
@goto <zone> teleport to a zone's spawn point
|
||||
|
||||
zones are saved as TOML files in content/zones/ and persist across restarts.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,52 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "combat"
|
||||
title = "combat system"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
starting a fight
|
||||
use any attack move on a target to start combat. you need to be on the same
|
||||
tile and altitude (both flying or both grounded). example: punch left goblin
|
||||
|
||||
stamina
|
||||
all moves cost stamina. attacks and defenses both drain your stamina pool.
|
||||
when you run out, you can't use moves until it regenerates. stamina refills
|
||||
slowly over time.
|
||||
|
||||
combat timing
|
||||
attacks have three phases:
|
||||
telegraph (enemy sees your wind-up message)
|
||||
timing window (defender has time to counter)
|
||||
resolve (damage is dealt or countered)
|
||||
|
||||
telegraph time is built into the hit_time. for example, a punch has a
|
||||
3000ms hit time - the telegraph goes out immediately, then after 3000ms
|
||||
the attack resolves.
|
||||
|
||||
defenses and counters
|
||||
each attack can be countered by specific defenses. timing matters - your
|
||||
defense must be active when the attack resolves. defenses have:
|
||||
active window (how long the defense can counter attacks)
|
||||
recovery time (cooldown before you can defend again)
|
||||
|
||||
correct defense (counter) = 0 damage. wrong defense = normal damage.
|
||||
no defense at all = 1.5x damage.
|
||||
|
||||
attack switching
|
||||
during the telegraph phase (PENDING state), you can switch to a different
|
||||
attack. your old stamina cost is refunded and the new attack starts fresh.
|
||||
use this to adapt if your opponent reads your move.
|
||||
|
||||
idle timeout
|
||||
if no damage lands for 30 seconds, combat fizzles out automatically.
|
||||
this prevents stalled encounters from blocking the world.
|
||||
|
||||
available moves
|
||||
attacks: punch (left/right), roundhouse, sweep
|
||||
defenses: dodge (left/right), parry (high/low), duck, jump
|
||||
|
||||
use 'skills' to see all moves, 'help <move>' for details on timing and
|
||||
counters. some moves are locked until you meet requirements.
|
||||
|
||||
altitude and flying
|
||||
flying makes you immune to ground-based attacks and vice versa. use this
|
||||
tactically - 'fly' to take off, 'fly' again to land. attacks auto-miss
|
||||
when attacker and defender are at different altitudes.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,34 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "containers"
|
||||
title = "inventory and containers"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
pick up items, carry them in your inventory, and store them
|
||||
in containers like chests and bags.
|
||||
|
||||
basic commands
|
||||
get <item> pick up an item from the ground
|
||||
take <item> same as get
|
||||
drop <item> drop an item at your feet
|
||||
inventory list what you're carrying
|
||||
i short for inventory
|
||||
|
||||
containers
|
||||
containers are items that hold other items.
|
||||
they can be open or closed, and some can be locked.
|
||||
|
||||
container commands
|
||||
open <container> open a container
|
||||
close <container> close a container
|
||||
put <item> in <container> store an item in a container
|
||||
get <item> from <container> take an item from a container
|
||||
get all from <container> take everything from a container
|
||||
|
||||
where to find containers
|
||||
containers can be on the ground or in your inventory.
|
||||
put commands work with either location.
|
||||
closed containers block access to their contents.
|
||||
|
||||
targeting
|
||||
you can use partial names - 'get pla' matches 'plank'.
|
||||
ordinals work too - 'get 2nd sword' if there are multiple.
|
||||
container state shows in inventory - (open, empty) or (closed).
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,43 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "content"
|
||||
title = "content system"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
the mud loads content from TOML files in the content/ directory.
|
||||
content can be edited and hot-reloaded without restarting the server.
|
||||
|
||||
directory structure
|
||||
content/
|
||||
commands/ content commands (motd, etc)
|
||||
combat/ combat move definitions
|
||||
help/ help topics
|
||||
mobs/ mob templates
|
||||
things/ thing templates
|
||||
zones/ zone definitions
|
||||
recipes/ crafting recipes
|
||||
dialogue/ npc dialogue trees
|
||||
|
||||
hot-reloading
|
||||
reload <name> reload a TOML definition
|
||||
example: reload punch
|
||||
example: reload motd
|
||||
|
||||
reload works for:
|
||||
- combat moves (content/combat/)
|
||||
- content commands (content/commands/)
|
||||
|
||||
creating new content
|
||||
- write a .toml file in the appropriate directory
|
||||
- restart server to load it initially
|
||||
- use reload to test changes after editing
|
||||
|
||||
editing content
|
||||
edit <move> edit in-game (see 'help editing')
|
||||
or edit files directly with your text editor
|
||||
|
||||
content format
|
||||
all content files use TOML format. combat moves follow a specific
|
||||
schema defined in docs/how/combat.rst. content commands use a simpler
|
||||
format with name, handler/message, and optional fields.
|
||||
|
||||
see also: help editing, help admin-commands
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,25 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "crafting"
|
||||
title = "crafting items from recipes"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
combine ingredients to create new items using recipes.
|
||||
|
||||
commands
|
||||
craft <recipe> craft an item if you have the ingredients
|
||||
recipes list all available recipes
|
||||
recipes <name> view details for a specific recipe
|
||||
|
||||
how it works
|
||||
recipes define what ingredients are needed and what you get.
|
||||
you need all ingredients in your inventory to craft.
|
||||
ingredients are consumed when you craft.
|
||||
|
||||
example
|
||||
wooden table requires 3 planks and 2 nails.
|
||||
carrying those items? type 'craft wooden table'.
|
||||
the ingredients disappear and you get a table.
|
||||
|
||||
finding recipes
|
||||
use 'recipes' to see what you can make.
|
||||
use 'recipes <name>' to see what ingredients you need.
|
||||
prefix matching works - 'craft wood' matches 'wooden table'.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,32 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "editing"
|
||||
title = "in-game toml editor"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
edit command opens the in-game text editor for TOML content files.
|
||||
|
||||
usage
|
||||
edit blank editor
|
||||
edit <move> edit a combat move TOML
|
||||
example: edit punch
|
||||
|
||||
the editor supports:
|
||||
- syntax highlighting for TOML
|
||||
- search and replace
|
||||
- undo/redo
|
||||
- color depth detection (256 color or 16 color)
|
||||
|
||||
editor commands (in editor mode)
|
||||
:h show editor help
|
||||
:w save and continue editing
|
||||
:wq save and exit
|
||||
:q quit without saving
|
||||
|
||||
editing combat moves
|
||||
when you edit a combat move, the editor loads the TOML file from
|
||||
content/combat/<move>.toml. saves write directly to the file.
|
||||
|
||||
after editing, use 'reload <move>' to hot-reload the changes without
|
||||
restarting the server.
|
||||
|
||||
see also: help content, help admin-commands
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,28 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "getting-started"
|
||||
title = "getting started"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
welcome to the mud. here's how to play.
|
||||
|
||||
looking around
|
||||
look see the world around you
|
||||
look <thing> examine something in detail
|
||||
|
||||
moving
|
||||
north / n move north (also: south, east, west)
|
||||
northwest / nw diagonal movement (also: ne, sw, se)
|
||||
|
||||
finding commands
|
||||
commands list all available commands
|
||||
skills list combat moves
|
||||
help <command> get help on a specific command
|
||||
|
||||
basics
|
||||
say <message> talk to nearby players
|
||||
tell <name> <msg> private message a player
|
||||
inventory see what you're carrying
|
||||
get <thing> pick something up
|
||||
drop <thing> put something down
|
||||
|
||||
the world persists. your position and inventory save when you log out.
|
||||
type 'quit' to disconnect safely.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,30 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "interactive-fiction"
|
||||
title = "interactive fiction"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
you can play classic text adventure games from inside the mud.
|
||||
other players in the room will see your gameplay on a virtual terminal.
|
||||
|
||||
starting a game
|
||||
play list available games
|
||||
play <game> start a game (e.g. "play zork")
|
||||
|
||||
available games
|
||||
zork1 the great underground empire
|
||||
curses a time-travel puzzle adventure
|
||||
photopia a story about light and memory
|
||||
shade a one-room mystery
|
||||
anchor a nautical puzzle game
|
||||
tangle a nature-themed exploration
|
||||
lostpig find the pig
|
||||
|
||||
escape commands
|
||||
::quit exit the game (auto-saves first)
|
||||
::save force save to disk
|
||||
::help show escape commands
|
||||
|
||||
your progress saves automatically. when you return to a game,
|
||||
it restores from where you left off.
|
||||
|
||||
game commands use normal IF syntax (open mailbox, go north, etc).
|
||||
anything not starting with :: goes to the game interpreter.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,26 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "mobs"
|
||||
title = "creatures and NPCs"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
mobs are creatures that move around zones. some are friendly NPCs,
|
||||
others are hostile and will fight you.
|
||||
|
||||
types
|
||||
hostile mobs attack on sight or when provoked
|
||||
friendly NPCs have schedules, can be talked to
|
||||
training dummies stationary targets for practicing combat
|
||||
|
||||
interacting with NPCs
|
||||
some mobs have an npc_name and follow daily schedules.
|
||||
the librarian, for example, works during the day and rests at night.
|
||||
approach them when they're active to start conversations.
|
||||
|
||||
combat
|
||||
hostile mobs will engage you in combat when you're nearby.
|
||||
see 'help combat' for how to fight.
|
||||
defeating mobs may drop loot - check corpses after battle.
|
||||
|
||||
behavior
|
||||
mobs can wander, patrol routes, flee when threatened, or stay put.
|
||||
friendly NPCs transition between states based on their schedule.
|
||||
some mobs stay within a home region and won't chase you far.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,40 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "movement"
|
||||
title = "movement and navigation"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
basic directions
|
||||
move with cardinal and diagonal directions:
|
||||
n, s, e, w (or north, south, east, west)
|
||||
ne, nw, se, sw (northeast, northwest, southeast, southwest)
|
||||
|
||||
terrain
|
||||
different tiles have different properties. some are passable, some aren't.
|
||||
impassable terrain (like water ~ or mountains ^) blocks movement unless
|
||||
you have special abilities.
|
||||
|
||||
zones
|
||||
the world is divided into zones - spatial areas with their own terrain grids.
|
||||
most zones are toroidal, meaning if you walk off the east edge you wrap to
|
||||
the west edge (same for north/south). this makes zones feel continuous.
|
||||
|
||||
portals
|
||||
some tiles have portals that transport you to other zones. to use a portal,
|
||||
type 'enter <portal>' when standing on the portal tile. portals are one-way
|
||||
unless there's a return portal at the destination.
|
||||
|
||||
flying
|
||||
'fly' toggles flight mode. while flying:
|
||||
- you can move over impassable terrain like water and mountains
|
||||
- 'fly <direction>' moves you 5 tiles in that direction
|
||||
- you leave cloud trails that fade over time
|
||||
- you're immune to ground-based attacks (altitude matters in combat)
|
||||
- 'fly' again to land
|
||||
|
||||
home command
|
||||
'home' teleports you to your personal zone (a private space just for you).
|
||||
'home return' takes you back to where you were before going home.
|
||||
your return point is saved when you leave, so you can bounce back and forth.
|
||||
|
||||
looking around
|
||||
'look' shows your current viewport and what's nearby.
|
||||
the viewport centers on you and shows terrain, other players, mobs, and items.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,44 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "skills"
|
||||
title = "combat skills"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
what are skills?
|
||||
skills are your combat moves - both attacks and defenses. each skill has
|
||||
different timing, stamina cost, and tactical use. you unlock more skills
|
||||
by defeating enemies and completing challenges.
|
||||
|
||||
seeing your skills
|
||||
'skills' lists all available combat moves (attacks and defenses).
|
||||
'help <skill>' shows detailed info: stamina cost, timing, counters.
|
||||
|
||||
attack skills
|
||||
punch left/right quick jab, 5 stamina, 3000ms hit time, 15% damage
|
||||
roundhouse heavy kick, 8 stamina, 3000ms hit time, 25% damage
|
||||
sweep low kick, 6 stamina, 3000ms hit time, 18% damage
|
||||
|
||||
attacks always need a target. start combat with: punch left goblin
|
||||
|
||||
defense skills
|
||||
dodge left/right sidestep, 3 stamina, 800ms window, 2700ms recovery
|
||||
parry high/low deflection, 4 stamina, 400ms window, 3100ms recovery
|
||||
duck crouch, 3 stamina, 600ms window, 2900ms recovery
|
||||
jump leap, 4 stamina, 600ms window, 2900ms recovery
|
||||
|
||||
defenses work both in and out of combat. you can practice them anytime.
|
||||
|
||||
stamina costs
|
||||
every skill drains stamina. attacks and defenses both cost stamina when used.
|
||||
stamina regenerates slowly over time. if you run out, you can't use skills
|
||||
until it refills. manage your stamina carefully in long fights.
|
||||
|
||||
locked skills
|
||||
some skills require you to meet conditions before you can use them:
|
||||
roundhouse: defeat 5 enemies
|
||||
sweep: defeat 3 goblins
|
||||
|
||||
locked skills show [LOCKED] in their help text with unlock requirements.
|
||||
|
||||
learning more
|
||||
'help combat' explains how timing, counters, and combat flow works.
|
||||
'help <move>' shows specific details for any attack or defense.
|
||||
experiment with different combinations to find what works for you.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,27 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "spawning"
|
||||
title = "spawning mobs and things"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
spawn command creates mobs at your current position.
|
||||
|
||||
usage
|
||||
spawn <mob_type> spawn a mob at your tile
|
||||
|
||||
available mobs
|
||||
goblin hostile creature
|
||||
librarian friendly npc with dialogue
|
||||
training_dummy practice target
|
||||
|
||||
spawned mobs appear on your current tile and persist until killed or
|
||||
despawned. mobs with loot tables drop corpses when killed.
|
||||
|
||||
placing things
|
||||
@place <thing> place a thing (see 'help building')
|
||||
|
||||
available things
|
||||
bookshelf, chair, chest, fountain, lamp, nail, painting, plank,
|
||||
rock, rug, sack, table
|
||||
|
||||
things are static objects. some are containers (chest, sack), others
|
||||
are furniture or decorations.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,31 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "world"
|
||||
title = "zones, terrain, and navigation"
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
the world is made of zones - spatial areas with terrain grids.
|
||||
zones can be toroidal (wrapping at edges) or bounded.
|
||||
|
||||
terrain types
|
||||
each zone has a grid of terrain tiles with different properties.
|
||||
some tiles are impassable (mountains ^, water ~).
|
||||
the overworld is procedurally generated and wraps seamlessly.
|
||||
|
||||
zones
|
||||
zones are separate areas - the overworld, dungeons, interiors.
|
||||
each zone has a spawn point where you appear when entering.
|
||||
zones can contain mobs, items, portals, and players.
|
||||
|
||||
navigation
|
||||
move with cardinal directions: north, south, east, west.
|
||||
use 'look' to see terrain and objects around you.
|
||||
toroidal zones wrap - walk far enough and you loop back.
|
||||
|
||||
portals
|
||||
portals connect zones (doorways, stairs, gates).
|
||||
walk onto a portal tile and type 'enter <portal>'.
|
||||
you'll teleport to the target zone at specific coordinates.
|
||||
|
||||
player homes
|
||||
type 'home' to teleport to your personal zone.
|
||||
this is a private space you can furnish and customize.
|
||||
type 'home return' to go back to where you were.
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,21 +0,0 @@
|
|||
name = "zones"
|
||||
title = "zones"
|
||||
admin = true
|
||||
body = """
|
||||
zones are spatial containers - rooms, dungeons, overworld areas.
|
||||
each zone has a terrain grid, spawn point, and optional portals.
|
||||
|
||||
listing zones
|
||||
@zones list all registered zones
|
||||
|
||||
navigating
|
||||
@goto <zone> teleport to a zone's spawn point
|
||||
enter <portal> step through a portal to another zone
|
||||
|
||||
building
|
||||
@dig <name> <w> <h> create a new blank zone
|
||||
@paint toggle paint mode for terrain editing
|
||||
@save save current zone to file
|
||||
|
||||
see: @zones, @goto, @dig, @paint, @save
|
||||
"""
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,128 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,80 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,153 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,304 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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!"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,96 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,260 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,141 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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!"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,90 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,174 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,63 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,228 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,133 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,187 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,74 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,260 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,115 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,142 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,45 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,286 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,266 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,259 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,93 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,56 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,118 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,78 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,157 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,124 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,77 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,225 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,77 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,185 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,95 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,75 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,103 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,64 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,348 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.)
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,180 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,129 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,109 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,125 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,32 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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!
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,52 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,25 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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."
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,98 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,142 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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!"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,125 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,352 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,78 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,161 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,123 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,82 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,153 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,349 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,195 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,103 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,119 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,274 +0,0 @@
|
|||
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.
|
||||
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