mud/content/library/grimm/045_thumbling_as_journeyman.txt

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!”