mud/content/library/grimm/020_the_valiant_little_tailor.txt

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.