COMMENT ⊗   VALID 00210 PAGES
C REC  PAGE   DESCRIPTION
C00001 00001
C00026 00002	In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king
C00038 00003	Hard by a great forest dwelt a wood-cutter with his wife, who had an
C00054 00004	A certain father had two sons, the elder of whom was smart and
C00085 00005	There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
C00095 00006	There was once upon a time an old king who was ill and thought to
C00121 00007	There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold
C00135 00008	There were once upon a time a king and a queen who lived
C00152 00009	Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, since
C00172 00010	There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain
C00184 00011	There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman whose husband
C00201 00012	There was once a girl who was idle and would not spin, and
C00209 00013	Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife
C00234 00014	There was once on a time a poor man, who could no longer
C00246 00015	A long time ago there lived a king who was famed for his wisdom
C00260 00016	One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his table
C00288 00017		Cinderella
C00311 00018	There was once a king's son who was seized with a desire to travel
C00321 00019	There was once a widow who had two daughters - one of
C00331 00020	There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had
C00339 00021		Little Red-Cap
C00351 00022	In a certain country there was once great lamentation over a
C00358 00023	There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son,
C00379 00024	A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty, and
C00398 00025	The mother of Hans said, whither away, Hans.  Hans answered, to
C00407 00026	An aged count once lived in switzerland, who had an only son,
C00415 00027	There was once a man who had a daughter who was called clever
C00426 00028	There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
C00458 00029	There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the
C00477 00030	There was once a poor servant-girl who was industrious and cleanly
C00482 00031	There was once upon a time a miller, who had a beautiful
C00494 00032	A poor man had so many children that he had already asked
C00500 00033	There was once a little girl who was obstinate and inquisitive,
C00503 00034	A poor man had twelve children and was forced to work night and
C00513 00035	A certain tailor had a son, who happened to be small, and
C00527 00036	There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor
C00539 00037	It is now long ago, quite two thousand years, since there was
C00566 00038	A farmer once had a faithful dog called sultan, who had grown
C00573 00039	Once upon a time, a certain king was hunting in a great forest,
C00590 00040		Briar-Rose
C00602 00041	There was once a forester who went into the forest to hunt,
C00610 00042	A king had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure,
C00624 00043		Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
C00651 00044	There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into
C00671 00045		Rumpelstiltskin
C00680 00046	There was once upon a time a woman who was a real witch and had two
C00693 00047	In olden times there was a king, who had behind his palace a
C00718 00048	There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other
C00789 00049	Two kings' sons once went out in search of adventures, and fell into
C00796 00050	There was once upon a time a king who had three sons, of whom two
C00805 00051	There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called
C00818 00052		Allerleirauh
C00836 00053	There was once a woman and her daughter who lived in a
C00841 00054	There was once a king's son who had a bride whom he loved very much.
C00851 00055	Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went into the
C00858 00056	A father once called his three sons before him, and he gave to the
C00867 00057	There was once a man who understood all kinds of arts.  He served in
C00884 00058	The she-wolf brought into the world a young one, and invited the fox
C00888 00059	There was once upon a time a queen to whom God had given no children.
C00903 00060	There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears
C00906 00061	A little brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while
C00909 00062	There was one upon a time a great war, and when it came to an end,
C00943 00063	Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him,
C00960 00064	There was once upon a time a young peasant named Hans, whose uncle
C00964 00065	There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a
C00980 00066	There was once upon a time a man who was about to set out on a long
C01000 00067	There was once upon a time an old queen whose husband had been dead
C01019 00068	Once upon a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb,
C01044 00069	There was once upon a time a rich king who had three daughters, who
C01059 00070	There was a certain merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl,
C01079 00071	There was once upon a time a queen who had a little daughter who
C01098 00072	There was once a poor peasant who had no land, but only a small
C01110 00073	About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this
C01123 00074	There was once a king who had an illness, and no one believed that he
C01143 00075	There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early
C01158 00076	A discharged soldier had nothing to live on, and did not know how to
C01169 00077	There was once a young fellow who enlisted as a soldier, conducted
C01186 00078	Once in summer-time the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest,
C01194 00079	There was a poor but good little girl who lived alone with her
C01196 00080	One day a peasant took his good hazel-stick out of the corner
C01209 00081	There was once a little child whose mother gave her every
C01214 00082	In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child,
C01226 00083	Hill and vale do not meet, but the children of men do, good and bad.
C01261 00084		Hans the Hedgehog
C01279 00085	There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who
C01282 00086	There was once a young fellow who had learnt the trade of locksmith,
C01302 00087	There was once upon a time a king who had a little boy in whose stars
C01330 00088	There was once upon a time a princess who was extremely proud. If a
C01340 00089	A tailor's apprentice was traveling about the world in search of
C01345 00090	There was once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the
C01360 00091	Once upon a time there was a child who was willful, and would not do
C01362 00092	There was once a king's son, who was no longer content to stay at
C01380 00093	There was once a young huntsman who went into the forest to lie in
C01402 00094	A poor servant-girl was once traveling with the family with which she
C01411 00095	There was once a man who had three sons, and nothing else in the
C01417 00096	There was a great war, and the king had many soldiers, but gave them
C01428 00097	Once upon a time lived a man and a woman who so long as they were
C01444 00098	In the days when wishing was still of some use, a king's son was
C01463 00099	There was once a poor man who had four sons, and when they were grown
C01477 00100	There was once a woman who had three daughters, the eldest of whom
C01500 00101	"Good-day, father hollenthe." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie." "May I
C01504 00102	There was once upon a time a king who had twelve daughters, each one
C01517 00103	In olden times there lived an aged queen who was a sorceress, and her
C01540 00104	A woman was walking about the fields with her daughter and her
C01554 00105	***There was once upon a time a king who had a great forest near
C01581 00106	East india was besieged by an enemy who would not retire until
C01587 00107	Between werrel and soist there lived a man whose name was knoist,
C01589 00108	A girl from brakel once went to St. Anne's chapel at the foot
C01591 00109	Whither do you go.  To walpe.  I to walpe, you to walpe, so,
C01593 00110	There were once a little brother and a little sister, who loved
C01599 00111	There were once two brothers, the one rich, the other poor.
C01607 00112	There was once a poor woman who had a son, who much wished to
C01611 00113	Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen, who were rich,
C01622 00114	A man and his wife were once sitting by the door of their house,
C01624 00115	There were once two brothers who both served as soldiers, one of
C01634 00116	At the time when our Lord still walked this earth, he and St.
C01639 00117	A certain king had three sons who were all equally dear to
C01641 00118	There was once upon a time a shepherd boy whose fame spread
C01644 00119	There was once upon a time a little girl whose father and mother
C01647 00120	A father was one day sitting at dinner with his wife and his
C01650 00121	There was once a young shepherd who wanted very much to marry,
C01652 00122	A sparrow had four young ones in a swallow's nest.  When they
C01661 00123	There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage.  In
C01682 00124	Let no one ever say that a poor tailor cannot do great things
C01702 00125	Harry was lazy, and although he had nothing else to do but
C01711 00126	There was once upon a time a king, but where he reigned and what
C01734 00127	There were once a man and a woman who had an only child, and
C01756 00128	A poor wood-cutter lived with his wife and three daughters in
C01773 00129	There was once upon a time a very old woman, who lived with her
C01806 00130	When adam and eve were driven out of paradise, they were
C01812 00131	There was once upon a time a miller who lived with his wife
C01830 00132	There was once a poor shepherd-boy whose father and mother
C01841 00133	There was once upon a time a girl who was young and beautiful, but
C01864 00134	There was once a girl whose father and mother died while
C01874 00135	There was once upon a time a princess, who, high under the
C01885 00136	One day an old man and his wife were sitting in front of a
C01910 00137	A young drummer went out quite alone one evening into the country,
C01942 00138	In former times, when God himself still walked the earth, the
C01945 00139	There was once upon a time a king who had a daughter,
C01952 00140	There was once an enchantress, who had three sons who loved each
C01961 00141	There was once a king who had a son who asked in marriage the
C01978 00142	There was once on a time a mother who had three daughters,
C01988 00143	Three hundred years before the birth of the Lord christ, there
C01992 00144	There was once a poor woman who had two children.  The youngest
C01994 00145	There was once a king's son who went out into the world, and
C01998 00146	There were once upon a time two sisters, one of whom had no
C02001 00147	There was once upon a time a hermit who lived in a forest at the
C02009 00148	In a large town there was an old woman who sat in the evening alone
C02012 00149	One afternoon the christ-child had laid himself in his cradle-bed
C02014 00150	A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had
C02022 00151	There was once a wonderful musician, who went quite forlorn
C02031 00152	The cock once said to the hen, it is now the time when the nuts
C02038 00153	In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a
C02043 00154	There was once upon a time a fisherman who lived with his wife
C02069 00155	Once upon a time a mouse, a bird, and a sausage became
C02075 00156	A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks
C02086 00157	A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer
C02091 00158	One very fine day it came to pass that the good God wished to enjoy
C02098 00159	There was once upon a time an old fox with nine tails, who
C02105 00160	A shoemaker, by no fault of his own, had become so poor that at
C02111 00161	There were once a cock and a hen who wanted to take a journey
C02115 00162	A sheep-dog had not a good master, but, on the contrary, one who
C02125 00163	There was once upon a time a man who was called frederick
C02147 00164	There was a certain village wherein no one lived but really rich
C02165 00165	There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and dense
C02174 00166	Once upon a time the fox was talking to the wolf of the
C02178 00167	The wolf had the fox with him, and whatsoever the wolf
C02184 00168	It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she
C02187 00169	There was once a cook named Gretel, who wore shoes with
C02195 00170	Once upon a time the little hen went with the little cock
C02201 00171	Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but gamble, and
C02210 00172	The fox once came to a meadow in which sat a flock of fine fat
C02212 00173	In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on
C02226 00174	Once upon a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson
C02238 00175	There was once upon a time a poor peasant called crabb, who drove
C02245 00176	There was once a rich man, who had a servant who served him
C02260 00177	A countryman was once going out to plough with a pair of oxen.
C02263 00178	Three army surgeons who thought they knew their art perfectly
C02272 00179	Seven swabians were once together.  The first was master
C02281 00180	There were once three apprentices, who had agreed to keep always
C02291 00181	In a certain village there once lived a man and his wife, and
C02298 00182	A peasant had a faithful horse which had grown old and could
C02302 00183	The Lord God had created all animals, and had chosen out the wolf to
C02306 00184	There was once a sorcerer who was standing in the midst of a
C02309 00185	There was once an old woman, but you have surely seen an old
C02311 00186	There was once on a time a maiden who was pretty, but idle
C02313 00187	In the time of schlauraffen I went forth and saw rome and the
C02316 00188	I will tell you something.  I saw two roasted fowls flying,
C02318 00189	Three women were transformed into flowers which grew in
C02320 00190	How fortunate is the master, and how well all goes in his
C02322 00191	Once upon a time a poor pious peasant died, and arrived before
C02325 00192	Lean lisa was of a very different way of thinking from lazy
C02329 00193	There was once a tailor, who was a quarrelsome fellow, and
C02333 00194	In olden times every sound still had its meaning and significance.
C02343 00195	The fishes had for a long time been discontented because no
C02346 00196	Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man
C02348 00197	Two or three hundred years ago, when people were far from being so
C02356 00198	In days gone by there was a land where the nights were always dark,
C02363 00199	When God created the world and was about to fix the length of
C02368 00200	In ancient times a giant was once traveling on a great highway,
C02373 00201	Master pfriem was a short, thin, but lively man, who never
C02385 00202	A tailor and a goldsmith were traveling together, and one evening
C02394 00203	A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing,
C02400 00204	A merchant had done good business at the fair.  He had sold his
C02403 00205	This story, my dear young folks, seems to be false, but it really
C02415 00206	There was once upon a time a far-sighted, crafty peasant whose
C02419 00207	George one day said to his little chickens, come into the
C02421 00208	A rich farmer was one day standing in his yard inspecting his
C02434 00209	A soldier who is afraid of nothing, troubles himself about
C02447 00210	In the winter time, when deep snow lay on the ground, a poor
C02448 ENDMK
C⊗;
In olden 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 bored 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.  At this
she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be
comforted.  And as she thus lamented someone said to her, "What ails
you, king's daughter?  You weep 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 big, ugly head from the water.  "Ah, old
water-splasher, is it you," she said, "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 you, but what will you give me if I bring your
plaything up again?"  "Whatever you will 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 your clothes, your
pearls and jewels, nor for your golden crown, but if you will love me
and let me be your companion and play-fellow, and sit by you at your
little table, and eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of
your little cup, and sleep in your little bed - if you will promise
me this I will go down below, and bring you your golden ball up
again."

"Oh yes," said she, "I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring
me my ball back again."  But she thought, "How the silly frog does
talk.  All he does is to sit in the water with the other frogs, and
croak.  He 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 you.  I can't run as you can."  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 are
you so afraid of?  Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to
carry you away?"  "Ah, no," replied she.  "It is no giant but a disgusting
frog."

"What does a frog want with you?"  "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,  do you not know what you
said to me yesterday by the cool waters of the well.  Princess,
youngest princess,  open the door for me."

Then said the king, "That which you have promised must you 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 you."  She delayed, until at last the king
commanded her to do it.  Once the frog was on the chair he wanted to
be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, "Now, push your
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 your little room and make your 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 you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards to be
despised by you."  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
you, lift me up or I will tell your father."  At this she was terribly
angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the
wall.  "Now, will you be quiet, odious frog," said she.  But when he
fell down he was no frog but a king's son with kind and beautiful
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.
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. You are poor and needy, bring your 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 your
keeping the keys of the thirteen doors of heaven.  Twelve of these
you may open, and behold the glory which is within them, but the
thirteenth, to which this little key belongs, is forbidden you.  Take
care not to open it, or you will be unhappy.' 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 splendor, 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 open it entirely, and I
will not go inside, but I will unlock it so that we can see just 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 your 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, 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 splendor.  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 hi there.  But her terror would not quit her, let her do what she
'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 'have
you not done it.' 'No,  said the girl for the third time.  Then said
the virgin mary 'you have not obeyed me, and besides that you have
lied, you are 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
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 'have you 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 'are you certain that you  have
not done it.'
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 are you.  Why are you sitting here in the
wilderness.' But she gave no answer, for she could not open her
mouth.  The king continued 'will you 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 you will tell the truth and confess
that you did unlock the forbidden door, I will open your mouth and
give you back your speech, but if you persevere in your sin, and deny
obstinately, I will take your new-born child away with me.' The 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 put her own child to death.
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 you will confess that you opened the
forbidden door, I will give you your child back and untie your tongue
but if you continue in sin and deny 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 your heart not yet softened.  If you will own
that you opened the forbidden door, I will give you back your 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 at the stake. 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.

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, you fellow in the corner there, you are growing tall and strong,
and you too must learn something by which you can earn your bread.
Look how your brother works, but you do not even earn your 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 'you shall soon
learn what it is to shudder, but you will not earn your 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 church 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. 'You shall 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 yourself off, you have 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 you are an honest fellow, or I will throw you down
the steps.' The sexton thought 'he can't mean 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 'do you not know where my husband is.
He climbed up the tower before you did.' 'No, I don't know, replied
the boy,  'but someone 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 so that he broke
his leg.  Take the good-for-nothing fellow out of 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 them
into your head.' 'Father,  he replied, 'do listen to me.  I am quite
innocent.  He was standing there by night like one intent on doing
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
you 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 you will,
spoke the father,  'it is all the same to me. Here are fifty talers
for you.  Take these and go into the wide world, and tell no one from
whence you come, and who is your father, for I have reason to be
ashamed of you.' '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 talers 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 beneath 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, you shall have my fifty talers.  Just
come back to me early in the morning.' Then the youth went to the
gallows, sat down beneath 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 'if you shiver below by
the fire, 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 stoked 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.  At 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 talers, and said 'well, do you know how to shudder.' 'No,
answered he,  'how should I 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 talers that day, and went away saying 'such a
youth 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 this and asked 'who are you.' 'I don't know, answered the
youth.  Then the waggoner asked 'from whence do you come.' 'I know
not.' 'Who is your father.' 'That I may not tell you.' 'What is it
that you are always muttering between your teeth.' 'Ah, replied the
youth,  'I do so wish I could shudder, but no one can teach me how.'
'Enough of your foolish chatter,  said the waggoner.  'Come, go with
me, I will see about a place for you.' 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 parlor 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 prying 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.  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.  Likewise in the castle
lay great treasures, 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
it be allowed, I will willingly watch three nights in the haunted
castle.' The king looked at him, and as the youth pleased him, he
said 'you may ask for three things to take into the castle with you,
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 fools.' 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 of 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 move, 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 you,
vermin, and began to cut them down. Some 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 stairs, 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, -- for so
handsome a 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 pass likewise.' Then he went to the
innkeeper, who opened his eyes very wide, and said 'I never expected
to see you alive again.  Have you 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 a while, and at length with a loud scream, half a man came down
the chimney and fell before him.  'Hullo.' Cried he,  'another half
belongs to this.  This is not enough.' Then the uproar began again,
there was a roaring and howling, and the other half fell down
likewise.  'Wait, said he,  'I will just stoke up the fire a little
for you.' When he had done that and looked round again, the two
pieces were joined together, and a hideous 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 'listen you, can I join you.' 'Yes, if you
have 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 we'll have fun.' 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.' 'Have you not
shuddered then.' 'What.' Said he,  'I have had a wonderful time.  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.  'Wait, said he,  'I will warm you
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
you.' The dead man, however, got up and cried 'now will I strangle
you.' 'What.' Said he,  'is that the way you thank me.  You shall at
once go into your 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. 'You wretch,  cried he,  'you shall soon learn what it
is to shudder, for you shall 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 you, said the fiend.  'Softly, softly, do not talk so big.  I
am as strong as you are, and perhaps even stronger.' 'We shall see,
said the old man.  'If you are stronger, I will let you 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 in it caught the old man's beard.  'Now I have you,
said the youth.  'Now it is your turn to die.' Then he seized an iron
bar and beat the old man till he moaned and entreated him to stop,
when 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 yours.'
In the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit disappeared, so that
the youth stood 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 you 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,  'you have saved the castle, and shall 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 this at last angered her.  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.  Then 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.'

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 comes in, he will
devour you all - skin, hair, and everything.  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, you are not our mother.  She has a soft, pleasant voice,
but your voice is rough, you are 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 called, 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 you, you are 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 you will not do it, I will devour you.
Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly,
this the way of mankind.

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 your
paws that we may know if you are 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 caame 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, she said, 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 fill of sleep, 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 'twas six kids,  but it feels like big stones. And
when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the
heavy stones made him fall in, and 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.
There was once upon a time an old king who was ill and thought to
himself 'I am lying on what must be my deathbed.' Then said he 'tell
faithful John to come to me.' Faithful John was his favorite 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 you do 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.' At this, the old king said 'now I die in comfort
and peace.' Then he added 'after my death, you shall 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, shall you 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 you must protect 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 keep, and will be faithful to you 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
you should see your inheritance.  I will show you your 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, however, was 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
noticed, however, that faithful John always walked past this one
door, and said 'why do you never open this one for me.' 'There is
something within it, he replied,  'which would terrify you.' But the
king answered 'I have seen all the palace, and I want to 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 your
father before his death that you should not see that which is in this
chamber, it might bring the greatest misfortune on you 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 you
have 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 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 good was this.  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.  You are my most
faithful John, you 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 your
treasures are five tons of gold, let one of the goldsmiths of the
kingdom fashion these 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 golden 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 golden 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 from you.' 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.' When she wanted to have everything brought up to her, 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 your master.' At 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 boarded the ship, and the
king led her within.  Faithful John, however, remained with the
helmsman, and ordered the ship to be pushed off, saying 'set all
sail, till it fly like a bird in the air.' Within, 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 high seas 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 rather die.' The king, however, seized her hand,
and said 'I am not a merchant.  I am a king, and of no meaner origin
than you are, and if I have carried you away with subtlety, that has
come to pass because of my exceeding great love for you.  The first
time that I looked on your portrait, I fell fainting to the ground.'
When the princess of the golden dwelling heard this, she was
comforted, and her heart was drawn to him, so that she willingly
consented to be his wife. It so happened, 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.  At 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, and
he will never see his maiden more.' Spoke the second 'but is there no
escape.' 'Oh, yes, if someone else mounts it swiftly, and takes out
the pistol which he will find in its holster, and shoots the horse
dead, 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 good will that do.
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 disclosed 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 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 good may come of this.' 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 you.' Then said
faithful John 'I am unjustly condemned, and have always been true to
you,  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 you 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 father
was sitting with his two children playing beside him, he looked at
the stone figure again, sighed, and full of grief he said 'ah, if I
could but bring you to life again, my most faithful John.' Then the
stone began to speak and said 'you can bring me to life again if you
will use for that purpose what is dearest to you.' Then cried the
king 'I will give everything I have in the world for you.' The stone
continued 'if you will cut off the heads of your two children with
your 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 'your truth shall
not go unrewarded, and took the heads of the children, put them on
again, and rubbed the wounds with their blood, at 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 'have you 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.
There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold
her for seven talers.  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, stuck 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 talers, always reckoning four
and twenty groschen to a taler.  The frogs, however, paid no
attention to his reckoning, but still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik.
What, cried the peasant, quite angry, if you know better than I,
count it yourselves, and threw all the money at them into the water.
He stood still and wanted to wait until they were through and had
returned to him what was his, 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 talers.  Do you think I'm
going to stand here till you get through.  And with that he went
away, but the frogs still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik, after him till
he went home sorely vexed. After a while he bought another cow, which
he slaughtered, 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
hide into the bargain.  When therefore he got to the town with the
meat, a great pack of dogs were gathered together in front of the
gate, with a large greyhound at the head of them, which jumped at the
meat, sniffed 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 you are saying wow, wow, wow, because you want some of the meat,
but I should be in a fine state if I were to give it to you.  The
dog, however, answered nothing but wow, wow.  Will you promise not to
devour it all then, and will you go bail for your companions.  Wow,
wow, wow, said the dog.  Well, if you insist on it, I will leave it
for you, I know you well, and know whom you serve, but this I tell
you, I must have my money in three days or else it will go ill with
you, you can 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. 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 big 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, 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 what 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 you, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh.  You
may thank God for your good fortune. Oh, answered the peasant, I do
not want her at all.  I have a wife already, and she is one too many
for me, when I go home, it is just as if I had a wife standing in
every corner.  Then the king grew angry, and said, you are a boor.
Ah, lord king, replied the peasant, what can you expect from an ox,
but beef.  Stop, answered the king, you shall have another reward.
Be off now, but come back in three days, and then you shall have five
hundred counted out in full. When the peasant went out by the gate,
the sentry said, you have made the king's daughter laugh, so you will
certainly receive something good.  Yes, that is what I think,
answered the peasant, five hundred are to be counted out to me.
Listen, said the soldier, give me some of it.  What can you do with
all that money.  As it is you, said the peasant, you shall have two
hundred,  present yourself in three days, time before the king, and
let it be paid to you.  A Jew, who was standing by and had heard the
conversation, ran after the peasant, held him by the coat, and said,
oh, wonder of God, what a child of fortune you are. I will change it
for you, I will change it for you into small coins, what do you want
with the great talers.  Jew, said the countryman, three hundred can
you still have, give it to me at once in coin, in three days from
this, you will be paid for it by the king.  The Jew was delighted
with the small 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 sentry, 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
talers.  The king could not help laughing at the peasant, and when
all his anger was spent, he said, as you have already lost your
reward before it fell to your lot, I will give you compensation.  Go
into my treasure chamber and get some money for yourself, as much as
you will.  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. Do you think that a man with so much money in his pocket
should 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 you
a coat for the short time.  What people will 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 you out of pure friendship, in order that you 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 made it.
There were once upon 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 you are 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 even caused twelve
coffins to be made, which were already filled with shavings, and
in each lay a little death pillow, 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 anyone.

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
are you so sad.

Dearest child, she answered, I may not tell you.  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, your father has had these coffins made for
you and for your 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 your 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 you benjamin, who are the youngest and weakest, you shall
stay at home and keep house, we others will go out and fetch 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, on a 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 your 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 the death pillows.  These coffins, said she,
were destined for your brothers, who went away secretly before you
were 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 do you come, and whither are you
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.  And she
showed him the twelve shirts which belonged to them.  Then
benjamin saw that she was his sister, and said, I am benjamin, your
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 save my twelve brothers.

No, answered he, you shall not die.  Seat yourself 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 upon a time the two at home had prepared a wonderful
feast, 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 student-lilies.  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 have you done.  Why did you not leave the twelve white
flowers growing.  They were your brothers, who are now forevermore
changed into ravens.  The maiden said, weeping, is there no way of
saving them.

No, said the woman, there is but one in the whole world, and
that is so hard that you will not save them by it, for you must be
dumb for seven years, and may not speak or laugh, and if you speak
one single word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all
is in vain, and your 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 spun, 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 you have brought
back with you.  Who knows what wicked 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 saved.  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.
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 choice morsel.  God 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 secretly,
as witches 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 in the form of 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.  This
she tied to the little animal 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 lovely animal, 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
vanished.  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 began again, and when the roebuck once
more 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 lasted the whole day, but 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, had never thought but 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
jealousy 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, reproached
her and said, a queen.  That ought to have been my luck.  Just 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.
Her 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 hellish 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 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, God.
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 the 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 to ashes, the
roebuck changed his shape, and received his human form again, so the
sister and brother lived happily together all their lives.
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 began to look pale and miserable.
Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, what ails you, dear
wife.  Ah, she replied, if I can't eat some of the rampion, which
is in the garden behind our house, I shall die.  The man, who loved
her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of
the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will.  At twilight, 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 greedily.  It tasted
so good to her - so very good, 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 can you dare, said she with
angry look, descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a
thief.  You shall 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 you say, I will allow you to take
away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one
condition, you must give me the child which your 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 under 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 your 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 passed 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 your 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 too will 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 your 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 you, but I do not know
how to get down.  Bring with you a skein of silk every time that
you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready
I will descend, and you will take me on your 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. You
wicked child, cried the enchantress.  What do I hear you say.  I
thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have
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 that she cast out rapunzel, however, the
enchantress 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 your hair,
she let the hair down.  The king's son ascended, but instead of
finding his dearest rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed
at him with wicked and venomous looks.  Aha, she cried mockingly,
you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits
no longer singing in the nest.  The cat has got it, and will scratch
out your eyes as well.  Rapunzel is lost to you.  You will never see
her again.  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 naught 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.
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 your
father that I would like to marry him, and then you shall
wash yourself 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 bid, 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 her
step-daughter's bitterest enemy, 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
tear it off my body.  Will you contradict me,  said the step-mother.
See that you go, and do not show your face again until you have
the basketful of strawberries.  Then she gave her a little piece of
hard bread, and said, this will last you the day, and thought,
you will die of cold and hunger outside, and will 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 little men.  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 little men said, give us some of it, too.  Willingly,
she said, and divided her piece of bread in two 'and gave
them the half.  They asked, what do you here in the forest in the
winter time, in your 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.  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 out of 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, you might freeze
to death.  However, as her daughter let her have no peace, the
mother at last yielded, made her a magnificent coat of fur, which
she was obliged to put on, and gave her bread-and-butter and cake
for her journey.
The girl went into the forest and straight up to the little house.
The three little men 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
finished eating, they said, there is a broom for you, sweep it all
clean in front of the back-door.  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 everyone 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 you, and
what are you 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, will you 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.
But, 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 sweat.  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.  Then he asked what that could be, but the
old woman said that she had got that from the violent sweat, 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, you have pronounced your 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.
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, at 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 you have done it, you shall have my eldest
son for a husband, even if you are poor.  I care not for that,
your untiring 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 yet been spun, 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, tomorrow you 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 you will invite us to the wedding,
not be ashamed of us, and will call us your aunts, and likewise
will place us at your table, we will spin up the flax for you,
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 you have
promised us - it will make your 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 do you come 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.
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 Gretel.  He had little to bite and to break, and once when
great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even 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 more piece of bread, 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' you fool, said
she, then we must all four die of hunger, you may 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.  Gretel
wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel, now all is over with us.
Be quiet, Gretel, said Hansel, do not distress yourself, 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 stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he
could get in.  Then he went back and said to Gretel, 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.  Gretel took the bread under her apron, as
Hansel had the pebbles 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 are you looking at
there and staying behind for.  Pay attention, and do not forget how
to use your 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 your 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 Gretel 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 Gretel 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 the
axe, however, but 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 closed with fatigue, and
they fell fast asleep.  When at last they awoke, it was already dark
night.  Gretel 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 Gretel,
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 dearth throughout
the land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to
their father, everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left,
and that is the 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 you to share
the last mouthful with your 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, however, were 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,
Gretel, 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 piece 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 do you 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.  Fool.  Said the woman, that is not your 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, Gretel shared her piece of
bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way.  Then they
fell asleep and evening passed, 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, Gretel, 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 Gretel, 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 came 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 its song was over, 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 approached the 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 you Gretel, can 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 Gretel
leant against the window and nibbled at the panes.  Then a soft
voice cried from the parlor -
     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
liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and
Gretel pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and
enjoyed herself with it.  Suddenly the door opened, and a woman
as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came
creeping out.  Hansel and Gretel 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 Gretel 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 Gretel came into her
neighborhood, she laughed with malice, 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 and rosy
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 locked him in behind a grated door.
Scream as he might, it would not help him.  Then she went to
Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, get up, lazy thing,
fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is
in the stable outside, and is to be made fat.  When he is fat, I
will eat him.  Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in
vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.
And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel
got nothing but crab-shells.  Every morning the woman crept to the
little stable, and cried, Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may
feel if you will 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 remained thin, she was seized with impatience and
would not wait any longer.  Now, then, Gretel, she cried to the
girl, stir yourself, 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 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 your noise to
yourself, said the old woman, it won't help you at all.

Early in the morning, Gretel 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 Gretel out to the oven, from which
flames of fire were already darting.  Creep in, said the witch,
and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.
And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let
her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too.  But Gretel saw
what she had in mind, and said, I do not know how I am to do it.
How do I 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 Gretel 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 Gretel ran
away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.
Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little
stable, and cried, Hansel, we are saved.  The old witch is dead.
Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is
opened.  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 Gretel said, I, too, will take something home
with me, and filled her pinafore full.  But now we must be off, said
Hansel, that we may get out of the witch's forest.

When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great
stretch of water.  We cannot cross, said Hansel, I see no
foot-plank, and no bridge.  And there is also no ferry, answered
Gretel, 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 Gretel 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 Gretel, 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
parlor, and threw themselves round their father's neck.  The man
had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the
forest.  The woman, however, was dead.  Gretel 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.
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 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
father-land 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 do you
know what you 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 splendor.

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.  As the day came when the
corpse was to be buried, he was taken down with it into the royal
vault 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, you shall 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
fitted, 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 colored it again.  Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and
said, ah, God, where am I.  You are 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 you.  Who knows in what trouble they may yet
be of service to us.

But a change had 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 you so to my
father that he will marry me to you, and make you 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 sailed so swiftly that they reached the old king
before the others.  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 everyone.  Soon
afterwards the great ship came sailing in, and the godless woman
appeared before her father with a troubled countenance.  He said,
why do you come back alone.  Where is your 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 you
and restored you to life again, but you have murdered him in his
sleep, and shall receive the reward that you deserve.  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.
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 leapt 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 seeks 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, before his eyes, 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, tomorrow 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.
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 all the pots
for him.  He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it,
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, this jam shall be blessed by God, 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
rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers, and they
were attracted and descended on it in hosts.  HI, 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 drew a piece 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.  Are you 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 valor.  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 peacefully about him.  The little
tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said, good day, comrade,
so you are sitting there overlooking the wide-spread world.  I am
just on my way thither, and want to try my luck.  Have you any
inclination to go with me.  The giant looked contemptuously at the
tailor, and said, you ragamuffin.  You miserable creature.
Oh, indeed, answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat,
and showed the giant the girdle, there may you 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 you have 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.
You can certainly throw, said the giant, but now we will see if
you are 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 you are strong enough, help me to carry the tree out
of the forest.  Readily, answered the little man, take the trunk
on your 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,
you are such a great fellow, and yet can 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 tossed into the air with it.  When he had fallen down
again without injury, the giant said, what is this.  Have you
not strength enough to hold the weak twig.  There is no lack of
strength, answered the little tailor.  Do you 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 you can 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 you are 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
finished off the grasshopper for good.  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
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 among 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 of 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
are you knocking me.  You must be dreaming, said the other, I am
not knocking you.  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 are you pelting me.  I am
not pelting you, 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 finished both of them off, 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 you are 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 you receive my daughter,
and the half of my kingdom, said he to him, you must perform one
more heroic deed.  In the forest roams a unicorn which does great
harm, and you 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 not long to seek.  The unicorn soon came towards him, and
rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would gore him with its
horn without more ado.  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
hero fled and 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 your 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 your bedroom 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
armor-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
your 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 and remained a king to the end of his life.
	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 you, and I will look down on you
from heaven and be near you.  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 by the time the
spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken another wife.
The woman had brought with her into the house two daughters,
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 parlor with us, they said.  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 hearth in the cinders.  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 you, cinderella, said he, what will you 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 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 gave orders for 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 wedding 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.  You go, cinderella, said she, covered in dust and
dirt as you are, and would go to the festival.  You have no clothes
and shoes, and yet would dance.  As, however, cinderella went on
asking, the step-mother said at last, I have emptied a dish of
lentils into the ashes for you, if you have picked them out again in
two hours, you shall 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, you have no clothes and
you can not dance.  You would only be laughed at.  And as
cinderella wept at this, the step-mother said, if you can pick two
dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me in one hour, you shall go
with us.  And she thought to herself, that she most certainly
cannot do again.  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 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 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 was delighted, and believed that she might now go
with them to the wedding.  But the step-mother said, all this will
not help.  You cannot go with us, for you have no clothes and can
not dance.  We should be ashamed of you.  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 wedding.  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 approached her, took her by the hand and danced with her.
He would dance with no other maiden, and never let 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 you and bear you 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 unknown 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 seated 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 wedding
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, this 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 unknown 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 among 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
this 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, however, had
employed a ruse, and had caused the whole staircase to be smeared
with pitch, and there, when she ran down, had the maiden's left
slipper remained stuck.  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 you are queen you will 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
his horse as his bride and rode away with her.  They were
obliged, however, 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 trickling
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 your heel, when you are queen you will 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, the two 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 quite
red.  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.  But 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 horrified 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 was to be celebrated, the
two false sisters came and wanted to get into favor 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 from
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 from each.  And thus, for their
wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness
all their days.
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 fanned 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 as he did not want to leave his saddle behind, he
ran back to fetch it.  When he came to the dead horse, however,
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 prepare for supper.
They had stumbled, however, on a den of murderers, and during
the darkness twelve of these came, intending to kill the strangers
and rob them.  But 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 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 store of
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 made it
known 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 solve it.  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 reveal 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.
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.  Across 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 to eat she had
boiled or roast meat every day.
She stayed some time with mother holle, before 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 clung
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 sitting on the well,
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 on the well, as soon as he saw her, cried out -
     cock-a-doodle-doo.
     Your dirty girl's come back to you.
But the pitch clung fast to her, and could not be got off as long
as she lived.
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 while playing 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, looked up and saw seven coal-black ravens flying away.

The parents could not withdraw 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 save her brothers.  She had no
rest or peace until she set out secretly, and went forth into the
wide world to search for 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.  At 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 have not that
drumstick you can not open the glass mountain, and in the glass
mountain are your 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.
	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 sprang 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 you here, you old
sinner, said he.  I have long sought you.  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 belly, and
when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so
heavy that he collapsed 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 bringing
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 no one ever did anything
to harm her again.
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 ripped up his body, 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.
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 anyone 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 child of good
fortune, 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 undesired 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 halt 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
asked the mill-folk if the tall youth were 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 child of
good fortune 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
hardhearted 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 child of
good fortune, and as the youth was handsome and friendly 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 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 child of good fortune answered, I will fetch the golden
hairs, I am not afraid of the devil.  Whereupon 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 child of good fortune.  Then you can do us
a favor, 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 favor 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 cross.
The ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew.  I
know everything, answered he.  Then you can do me a favor, 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 ferryman must always be
going backwards and forwards, and is never set free.
Those are difficult questions, answered she, but just 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 told her she should louse him a little.
It was not long before 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 beside 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 dreamt 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.

The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and
snored so that 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 it they would have golden
apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither
altogether.  But I have had enough of your dreams, if you disturb
me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.

The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once
more until he fell asleep 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 again and said, who can help bad dreams.  What
was the dream, then, asked he, and was quite curious.  I dreamt
of a ferryman 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 anyone
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 devil 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 child of good
fortune 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 ferryman he was expected to give the
promised answer.  Ferry me across first, said the child of good
fortune, 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 anyone 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.

Finally, 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 child of good fortune 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
ferryman 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 ferryman
to put him across.  The ferryman came and bade him get in,
and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his
hand and sprang over.  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.
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 do you plague yourself with cutting wood, I will
make you rich, if you will promise me what is standing behind
your 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 have no power over
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 you do not do it you are mine, and I will take you yourself.

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
your 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 you.  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 you received such
great wealth that I will keep you most handsomely as long as
you live.  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 it was surrounded by water.
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, someone
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 you
say, I will watch with you 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, "Do you come from heaven or from earth?  Are you 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 you are forsaken
by all the world, yet will I not forsake you."  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 go on a journey, so he commended
his young queen to the care of his mother and said, if she
is brought to child-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 you killed as the king commands, but here you may stay
no longer.  Go forth into the wide world with your 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 she 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 do you know that I was a queen?"

The white maiden answered, "I am an angel sent by God, to watch
over you and your 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 his journey, and his first
wish was to see his wife and the child.  Then his aged mother
began to weep and said, "You wicked man, why did you 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 you bade 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 your wife's
back and bade her go forth into the wide world, and made her
promise never to come back here again, because you were 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 traveled 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 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 traveled 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 laid 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 your child, your husband has come.  So
she went to the place where he lay, and the handkerchief
fell from his face.  Then said she, "Sorrowful, pick up your
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 - you have 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 your wife, and that is your 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
my heart."  Then the angel of God ate with them once again, 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.
The mother of Hans said, whither away, Hans.  Hans answered, to
Gretel.  Behave well, Hans.  Oh, I'll behave well.  Good-bye,
mother.  Good-bye, Hans.  Hans comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.
Good day, Hans.  What do you bring that is good.  I bring nothing,
I want to have something given me.  Gretel presents Hans with a
needle.  Hans says, good-bye, Gretel.  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 have
you been.  With Gretel.  What did you take her.  Took her nothing,
had something given me.  What did Gretel give you.  Gave me a
needle.  Where is the needle, Hans.  Stuck it in the hay-cart.
That was ill done, Hans.  You should have stuck the needle in
your sleeve.  Never mind, I'll do better next time.

Whither away, Hans.  To Gretel, mother.  Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well.  Good-bye, mother.  Good-bye, Hans.  Hans
comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.  Good day, Hans.  What do you
bring that is good.  I bring nothing, I want to have something
given to me.  Gretel presents Hans with a knife.  Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye Hans.  Hans takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and
goes home.  Good evening, mother.  Good evening, Hans.  Where
have you been.  With Gretel.  What did you take her.  Took her
nothing, she gave me something.  What did Gretel give you.  Gave
me a knife.  Where is the knife, Hans.  Stuck in my sleeve.
That's ill done, Hans, you should have put the knife in your
pocket.  Never mind, will do better next time.

Whither away, Hans.  To Gretel, mother.  Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well.  Good-bye, mother.  Good-bye, Hans.  Hans
comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.  Good day, Hans.  What good
thing do you bring.  I bring nothing, I want something given me.
Gretel presents Hans with a young goat.  Good-bye, Gretel.
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 have you been.  With Gretel.
What did you take her.  Took nothing, she gave me something.  What
did Gretel give you.  She gave me a goat.  Where is the goat, Hans.
Put it in my pocket.  That was ill done, Hans, you should have
put a rope round the goat's neck.  Never mind, will do better next
time.

Whither away, Hans,  to Gretel, mother.  Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well good-bye, mother.  Good-bye, Hans.  Hans
comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.  Good day, Hans.  What good
thing do you bring.  I bring nothing, I want something given to
me.  Gretel presents Hans with a piece of bacon.  Good-bye,
Gretel.  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 have you been.  With Gretel.  What did you take
her.  I took her nothing, she gave me something.  What did
Gretel give you.
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,
you should have carried the bacon on your head.  Never mind, will
do better next time.

Whither away, Hans.  To Gretel, mother.  Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well.  Good-bye, mother.  Good-bye, Hans.  Hans
comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.  Good day, Hans.  What good
thing do you bring.  I bring nothing, but would have something
given.  Gretel presents Hans with a calf.  Good-bye, Gretel.
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 have you
been.  With Gretel.  What did you take her.  I took nothing, but
had something given me.  What did Gretel give you.  A calf.
Where have you the calf, Hans.  I set it on my head and it
kicked my face.  That was ill done, Hans, you should have led
the calf, and put it in the stall.  Never mind, will do better
next time.

Whither away, Hans.  To Gretel, mother.  Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well.  Good-bye, mother.  Good-bye, Hans.
Hans comes to Gretel.  Good day, Gretel.  Good day, Hans.  What
good thing do you bring.  I bring nothing, but would have
something given.  Gretel says to Hans, I will go with you.
Hans takes Gretel, 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 have you been.  With Gretel.
What did you take her.  I took her nothing.  What did Gretel
give you.  She gave me nothing, she came with me.  Where have
you left Gretel.  I led her by the rope, tied her to the rack,
and scattered some grass for her.  That was ill done, Hans, you
should 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 Gretel's face.  Then Gretel became angry, tore
herself loose and ran away, and was no longer the bride of Hans.
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 you, my son, try as I will I can get nothing into
your head.  You must go from hence, I will give you into the
care of a celebrated master, who shall see what he can do
with you.  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 have you
learnt.  Father, I have learnt what the dogs say when they bark.

Lord have mercy on us, cried the father, is that all you have
learnt.  I will send you 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 have you learnt.  He answered, father, I have learnt what
the birds say.  Then the father fell into a rage and said, oh,
you lost man, you have spent the precious time and learnt nothing,
are you not ashamed to appear before my eyes.  I will send you
to a third master, but if you learn nothing this time also,
I will no longer be your 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 have you 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 you will pass the night down there in the old
tower, go thither, but I warn you, it is at the peril of your
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 doubt among the cardinals 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.
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 someone 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 smart.  Oh, said the father, she has plenty of
good sense.  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 smart, 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 do
you weep, 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 you 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 he might be killed by the
pick-axe, if he 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, the 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 you
are such a clever elsie, I will have you.  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 cut first, or
shall I eat first.  Oh, I will eat first.  Then she drank her cup
of broth, and when she was fully satisfied, she once more said,
what shall I do.  Shall I cut 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.  But when
evening came and she still stayed away, 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.
There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
only one goat.  But as the goat supported all of them with
her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken
every day to pasture.  The sons 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, have you 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, are you satisfied.  The goat answered,
     how should I be satisfied.
     Among the ditches I leapt about,
     found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.

What do I hear, cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the
youth.  HI, you liar, you said the goat had had enough, and have
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 sought a place
in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and
the goat gobbled them all up.  At night when he wanted to go home,
he asked, goat, are you 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, have you had
enough.  The goat answered,
     how should I be satisfied.
     Among the ditches I leapt about,
     found no leaf, 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 his duty
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, have you 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 her full
share of food.  She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll
touch.  The tailor was distrustful, went down and asked, goat,
have you had enough.  The wicked beast answered,
     how should I be satisfied.
     Among the ditches I leapt about,
     found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.

Oh, the brood of liars, cried the tailor, each as wicked and
forgetful of his duty as the other.  You 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, stroked the goat and said, come, my
dear little animal, I myself will take you to feed.  He took her
by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil
and whatever else goats like to eat.  There you may for once eat to
your heart's content, said he to her, and let her browse till
evening.  Then he asked, goat, are you 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, are you satisfied for once.  But the goat behaved no
better to him, and cried,
     how should I be satisfied.
     Among the ditches I leapt about,
     found no leaf, 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, you
ungrateful creature, cried he, it is not enough to drive you forth,
I will brand you so that you will no more dare to show yourself
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 bounded away with tremendous leaps.

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 traveling, his master presented
him with a little table which was not particularly beautiful, and
was made of common wood, but which had one good property.  If
anyone set it out, and said, little table, spread yourself, 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 you have enough for your
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, spread yourself, 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 magic 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
morsels out of
your mouths.  Rather than that, you shall be my guests.  They
laughed, and thought he was jesting with them.  He but placed his
wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, little table,
spread yourself.  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, you could easily find a use for such a cook as that in your
household.  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,
and carefully 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 have you learnt.  Said he to him.  Father, I have become
a joiner.

A good trade, replied the old man, but what have you brought
back with you from your 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, you did not make a
masterpiece when you made 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 spread 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,
spread yourself, but the little table did not bestir itself, and
remained just as bare as any other table which does 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 you
have conducted yourself so well, I give you an ass of a peculiar
kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack.  What good is
he, then. Asked the young apprentice.  He spews forth gold, answered
the miller.  If you set him on a cloth and say bricklebrit,
the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for you from back and
front.  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, you
must seek out your father.  If you go to him with the gold-ass he
will forget his anger, and receive you well.  It came to pass
that he came to the same inn 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
from back and front, 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 to be sniffed at.  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 traveled 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 have you made of yourself, my son.  Asked the old man.
A miller, dear father, he answered.  What have you brought back
with you from your 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 spews forth 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 what fell were not
gold pieces, 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 labor, 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 ther 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 you why, replied
the master.  If anyone has done anything to injure you, 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
you say, into the sack, cudgel.  The apprentice thanked him, and
put the sack on his back, and when anyone 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 spread 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 innkeeper 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 innkeeper 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, however, had 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, the harder the
cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the
ground exhausted.  Then the turner said, if you do not give back
the table which spreads 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 have you brought back with you from
your travels.

A precious thing, dear father, replied the son, a cudgel in the
sack.

What cried the father, a cudgel.  That's certainly worth your
trouble.  From every tree you can cut yourself one.  But not one
like this, dear father.  If I say, out of the sack, cudgel, the
cudgel springs out and leads anyone ill-disposed toward 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 rescued the
wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish innkeeper 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
had not much confidence.  Nevertheless he summoned 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 pices rained
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 by your face that you also would have liked 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,
spread yourself, 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 closet, and lived with his three sons in joy and
splendor.

What, however, happened to the goat who was to blame for the
tailor driving out his three sons?  That I will tell you.  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 you, brother fox, why do you 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, you are really pulling a very pitiful face.  What has become
of all your gaiety.  It is all very well for you 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 you, I am
a poor weak creature whom you would not turn aside to look at, but
still, I believe, I can help you.  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.
There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the
hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and spun.  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.  Though they did not let it want
for food, 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 someone 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, you are 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, do you see, 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,
listen, 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 sum of money.  Where will you 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, it is necessary.  Just stay up there, said the
man on whose hat he sat, it makes no difference to me.  The birds
sometimes let things fall on me.  No, said thumbling, I
know what's manners, take me quickly 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 mousehole 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 mousehole, but it was all in vain.  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 stumbled 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 set about
getting hold of the rich pastor's silver and gold.  I could tell
you that, cried thumbling, interrupting them.  What was that, said
one of the thieves in fright, I heard someone speaking.  They stood
still listening, and thumbling spoke again, and said, take
me with you, and I'll help you.

But where are you.  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.  You little imp, how will you help
us, they said.  Listen, 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 you
can 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 there were other things in
store for him.  Truly, there is much worry and affliction in
this world.  When the 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 he had to take care not to
let himself go between the teeth and be dismembered, but he was
subsequently 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 that more
and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew
less and less.  When 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.  You are 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 dunghill.  Thumbling had great difficulty in working his
way out.  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 belly, 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.  You must creep into it through the
kitchen-sink, and will find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and
as much of them as you can 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.  Will you be quiet, said the
wolf, you will waken up the people.  What do I care, replied the
little fellow, you have eaten your 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 teh husband
fetched his axe, and the wife the scythe.  Stay behind, said the
man, when they entered the room.  When I have given the blow, if
he is not killed by it, you 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 your
sake.  Yes father, I have gone about the world a great deal.
Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again.  Where have you been,
then.  Ah, father, I have been in a mouse's hole, in a cow's
belly, and then in a wolf's paunch.  Now I will stay with you.
And we will not sell you 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.
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 employers, 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
covers were embroidered with gold, the cradle was of ivory, the
bath-tub 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.  But first
they filled her pockets quite full of money, and then they led
her out of the mountain again.  When she got home, she wanted to
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.

A certain mother had her child taken 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, lay in its place.
In her trouble she went to her neighbor, 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 neighbor bade her.  When she put
the egg-shells with water on the fire, goggle-eyes said, I am as
old now as the wester forest, but never yet have I seen anyone
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.

There was once upon 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, you are my
betrothed, and yet you have never once paid me a visit. The
maiden replied, I know not where your 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 you must come out there to me, I have already
invited the guests, and I will strew ashes in order that you may
find your 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 have you come.
You are in a murderer's den.  You think you are a bride soon to be
married, but you will keep your wedding with death.  Look, I
have been forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it,
and when they have you in their power, they will cut you to
pieces without mercy, will cook you, and eat you, for they are
eaters of human flesh.  If I do not have compassion on you, and
save you, you are lost.

Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great hogshead
where she could not be seen.  Be still as a mouse, said she, do
not make a sound, or move, or all will be over with you.  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 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, have you
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 murderer's 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 for the wedding 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, do you 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, you have got into a murderer's den,
your bridegroom does live here, but he will hew you in pieces,
and kill you, and then he will cook you, and eat you.  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.
A poor man had so many children that he had already asked
everyone 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 he met 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 you can heal the sick, only
you 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 had 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, the strangest things were going on within.  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 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 house-hold
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 not true.  The
man became alarmed, and ran out, and if he had not, who knows
what the godfather would have done to him.
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 you go to her, you are no longer our child.  But the maiden
did not let herself be turned aside by her parents, prohibition,
and still went to frau trude.  And when she got to her, frau
trude said, why are you so pale.  Ah, she replied, and her whole
body trembled, I have been so terrified at what I have seen.  What
have you 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 you have seen the witch in her
proper costume.  I have been waiting for you, and wanting you
a long time already.  You shall 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 a full blaze she sat down close to it,
and warmed herself by it, and said, that shines bright for once
in a way.
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 you.  I will hold your child
at its christening, and will take charge of it and make it
happy on earth.  The man said, who are you.  I am God.  Then
I do not desire to have you for a godfather, said the man, you give
to the rich, and leave 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 do you seek.
If you will take me as a godfather for your child, I will give him
gold in plenty and all the joys of the world as well.  The man
asked, who are you.  I am the devil.  Then I do not desire to have
you for godfather, said the man, you deceive men and lead 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 are you.  I am death, and I make all equal.  Then
said the man,
you are the right one, you take the rich as well as the poor,
without distinction, you shall be godfather.  Death answered,
I will make your 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 you shall
receive your godfather's present.  I make you a celebrated
physician.  When you are called to a patient, I will always appear
to you.  If I stand by the head of the sick man, you may say with
confidence that you will make him well again, and if you give
him of this herb he will recover, but if I stand by the patient's
feet, he is mine, and you 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 you.

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, whether 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 anyone 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 herbs, 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, you have betrayed
me, this time I will pardon
it, as you are my godson, but if you venture it again, it
will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself 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 his own property had been
misused, he walked up to the physician with long strides, and
said, all is over with you, and now the lot falls on you, 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, some medium-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 medium-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.
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
handle, and there is a sword for you to take with you on the way.
Then the little tailor wanted to have one more meal with them,
and hopped into the kitchen to see what his mother had cooked
for the last time.  But it was already served, and the dish stood
on the hearth.  Then he said, mother, what is there to eat to-day.
See for yourself, 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 traveled
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 would you 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.  HI, there, cried one of
them, you giant goliath, will you go to the treasure-chamber
with us.  You can slip yourself 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 you 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
taler 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 talers 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, someone is after the money.  When
therefore thumbling recommenced his labors, 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 taler, 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 taler, 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
talers 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.  You are a valiant hero,
said they, will you 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 manservant 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 employers what they had taken off
the plates, and carried away out of the cellar, for themselves.
Then said they, wait, and we will pay you out, 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
did not suit him, for it
was quite dark, neither was any candle burning.  When the cow
was being milked he cried,
          strip, strap, strull,
          when will the pail be full.

But the noise of the milking prevented his being understood.
After this the master of the house came into the stall 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,
I am sitting inside her.  The master heard that quite well,
but did not know from whence the voice came.  Where are you, 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 without thinking.  HI, there,
mr. Fox, cried
the little tailor, it is I who am sticking in your throat, set
me at liberty again.  You are right, answered the fox.  You
are next to nothing for me, but if you will promise me the
fowls in your father's yard I will let you go.  With all my
heart, replied thumbling.  You shall have all the cocks and hens,
that I promise you.  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 you 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
silly, your father would surely love his child far more than the
fowls in the yard.
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 again.  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 handing him a
piece of bread, he did but touch her, and she was forced to jump
into his basket.  Thereupon he hurried off 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, you will certainly be happy with me, for you have
everything your heart can wish for.  This lasted a few days, and
then he said, I must journey forth, and
leave you alone for a short time.  Here are the keys of the house.
You may go everywhere and look at everything except into one
room, which this little key opens, and there I forbid you 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 you,
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
splendor.  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 wiped the blood off,
but in vain, it appeared again in a moment.  She washed and
scrubbed, but she could not get it off.

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 you have gone into the room against my will, said he, you
shall go back into it against your own.  Your life is ended.
He threw her down, dragged her along 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 wily.  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 dear sisters lay there
in the basin, cruelly murdered, and cut into 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,
you have stood the test, you shall 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, you shall first take a
basketful of gold to my father and mother, and carry it
yourself on your 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 you
stop 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 sweat 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 you are resting.
Will you go on at once.  He thought it was his bride who was
talking to
him, and he 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 you are resting.  Will you 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.
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 spoke, 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 she pushed him from one corner to the other and slapped him
here and cuffed him there, until the poor 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,  you shall not have one before your 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, will you 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 yourself, 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 you, 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, whereupon his head fell off.  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 have you 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 coutry 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 are you crying?  Your 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 draw,
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 she lay down under the juniper
tree on the green grass, and after she had lain down there, she
suddenly felt light-hearted and did not cry any more.  Then
the juniper tree began to stir itself, and the branches parted
asunder, and moved together again, just as if someone were
rejoicing and clapping his hands.  At the same time a mist seemed
to arise from the tree, and in the center 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 golden 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 golden 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
you can 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 you."  "There," said the goldsmith,
"there is the golden chain for you, 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 you can sing."  Then he called in at his door,
"Wife, just come outside, there is a bird, look at that bird, he
certainly can sing."  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, you 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 finished his song he flew away.  In his right
claw he had the chain and in his left the shoes, 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 you sing.  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, you should 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 golden 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.
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 on
to anything.  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.

What, said the man, you are not very bright.  He has not a tooth
left in his head, and not a thief is afraid of him, now he can
go.  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.  Listen, 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 make himself scarce, 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 at the appointed place, 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, one of his ears was sticking out.  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.
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 anyone 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 stepmother 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 someone 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 your 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 swans,
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 you
cannot abide, they said to her.  This is a shelter for robbers,
if they come home and find you, they will kill you.  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
swans, 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 you may neither
speak nor laugh, and in that time you must sew together six
little shirts of starwort for us.  And if one single word falls
from your lips, all your 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 anyone, 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 are you.  But
she made no answer.  Come down to us, said they.  We will not
do you 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 are you.  What are you 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 anyone 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
mother-in-law 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 carried out, 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
they were touched by them, their swans, 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 you 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 mother-in-law was bound to
the stake, and burnt to ashes.  But the king and the queen with
her six brothers lived many years in happiness and peace.
	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 acquaintances, 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 splendor 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 anyone, 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 mother, 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 courtyard 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 sizzle again, and the cook gave the boy such
a box on the ear that he screamed, and the maid finished
plucking the fowl.

And then the marriage of the king's son with briar-rose was
celebrated with all splendor, and they lived contented to the
end of their days.
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, you will take him home with you, and bring him up with
your lina.  He took it home, therefore, and the two children grew
up together.  And the one, 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.

Now the forester 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, listen old sanna, why
are you fetching so much water.  If you will never repeat it to
anyone, I will tell you why.  So lina said, no, she would never
repeat it to anyone, and then the cook said, early tomorrow
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.

Early 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 you will never leave me, I too will never
leave you.  Fundevogel said, neither now, nor ever will I leave
you.  Then said lina, then I will tell you.  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 anyone she would tell me, and I said I would be
sure not to tell anyone, and she said that early to-morrow morning
when father was out hunting, she would set the kettle full of
water, throw you into it and boil you, 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 fundevoel, never leave me, and I will never
leave you.  Fundevogel said, neither now, nor ever.  Then said
lina, do you 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 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 you.  Fundevogel said, neither now,
nor ever.  Said lina, then do you 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
you.  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 have not died, they are living still.
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 each one she had some objection
to make.  One was too fat, the wine-barrel, 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 each 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.
Look, 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 few pennies.  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,
tiny 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 must make baskets.  He went out, cut some
willows, and brought them home.  Then she began to make baskets,
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 splendor, 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.
	Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

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 chould 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
lung and liver 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 bear just then came running by
he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them to the
queen as proof that the child was dead.  The cook had to salt them,
and the wicked queen ate them, and thought she had eaten the lung
and liver of snow-white.

But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so
terrified that she looked at all the leaves on the trees, 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
hollow 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 passed 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 lung and
liver, 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
pedlar-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 colors, and she
pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored 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
pedlar-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 really
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 anyone 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 farmer's wife, 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
anyone 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.

And 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 honor 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 splendor.  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
had to go to see the young queen.  And when she went in she
recognized 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.
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, it cannot go
on like this, 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 came to 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 returned to him,
he wanted to make a trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and
said, I wish you 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.  You shall
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 do you get on in your solitude.

One day is like another, replied the charcoal-burner, and every night
potatoes.  Have you a mind to have some, and will you be my guest.
Many thanks, replied the traveler, I won't rob you of your supper,
you did not reckon on a visitor, but if you will put up with what I
have, you shall have an invitation. Who is to prepare it for you,
said the charcoal-burner.  I see that you have nothing with you, and
there is no one within a two hours' walk who could give you anything.
And yet there shall be a meal, answered the youth, and better than
any you have ever tasted.  Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his
knapsack, spread it on the ground, and said, little cloth, cover
yourself, 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 with wide-open eyes, 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, listen, your
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 you, 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 you for the
table-cloth.

I must first know what these wonderful powers are, answered the
youth.

That will I tell you, replied the charcoal-burner, every time you tap
it with your hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head to
foot, and they do whatsover you command 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 you will eat some
potatoes with salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,
said the sooty fellow.

No, he replied, this time you shall 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 - the moment someone puts it on, and turns it round on his
head, the cannons go off as if twelve were fired all together, and
they demolish everything so that no one can withstand them.  The hat
is of no use to me, and I will willingly give it for your tablecloth.

That suits me very well, he answered, took the hat, put it on, and
left his table-cloth behind him.  But hardly 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 one,
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.  The moment someone blew
it all the walls and fortifications fell down, and all towns and
villages became ruins.  For this he immediately gave the
charcoal-burner the cloth, 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, you give out
that you are our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for
something still better for himself.  Such a person arrives in his
carriage in full splendor 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 hazelsticks with them, and beat
the two insolent men until they knew who he was.

A violent disturbance broke out, 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
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 else is there for
me to do but what he desires.  If I want peace and to keep the crown
on my head, I must give you 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 longed 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 feigned affection and caressed him, and when his
heart was softened, she said, if you would but lay aside that horrid
knapsack, it makes you look so ugly, that I can't help being ashamed
of you.  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 cleverly 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.  And hardly were
his hands free before he turned it twice.  Immediately the cannon
began to thunder, and demolished everything, and the king's daughter
herself was forced to come and beg for mercy.  As she entreated in
such moving terms, and promised to better her ways, 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.
	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 put her to the test.

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 frightened, 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 opened again, 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,
to give me 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 spun 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 brought a beautiful child into the world,
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 alive is dearer to me than all the
treasures in the world.  Then the queen began to lament 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 imagine 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.
There was once upon 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 you shall have it.  Your
step-sister has long deserved death, to-night when she is asleep I
will come and cut her head off.  Only be careful that you are 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 were 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, listen, 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 you 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 are you.  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 are you.  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 are you.  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 help 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 she covered 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
went to endless 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.  At 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, knowing perfectly well 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 faster 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.

As they were now set free, 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 you, 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 so fascinated him 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, someone 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 you see anything, no matter what it is, 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 admitted 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. Nevertheless, she promised not
to go away, but to continue keeping house for the shepherd.

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 honor 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.
In olden times 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, but 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, and trusting to his cleverness 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 looks
like 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 many months had passed, and the eldest son 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's not too bright 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 staight 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 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, such a beautiful
beast will be shamed 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 went the fox, 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 shoveled without stopping, 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 my 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 on earth would want to buy gallows'-flesh.  As for the desire to
sit at the edge of a well it has never yet occurred to 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, and as it was
a hot day, but cool and pleasant within the wood, 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 up, 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 what happened to 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 they had all the happiness they
wanted as long as they lived.
There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other
poor.  The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The poor one
supported himself by making brooms, and was good and honorable.  He
had two children, who were twin brothers and as like each other as
two drops of water.  The two boys went in and out of the rich house,
and often got some of the scraps to eat.  It happened once when the
poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood, that he saw a
bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any he had ever
chanced to meet with.  He picked up a small stone, threw it at it,
and was lucky enough to hit it, but one golden feather only fell
down, and the bird flew away.  The man took the feather and carried
it to his brother, who looked at it and said, it is pure gold. And
gave him a great deal of money for it.  Next day the man climbed into
a birch-tree, and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the
same bird flew out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an
egg lay inside it, which was of gold.  He took the egg home with him,
and carried it to his brother, who again said, it is pure gold, and
gave him what it was worth.  At last the goldsmith said, I should
indeed like to have the bird itself.  The poor man went into the
forest for the third time, and again saw the golden bird sitting on
the tree, so he took a stone and brought it down and carried it to
his brother, who gave him a great heap of gold for it.  Now I can get
on, thought he, and went contentedly home.

The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what kind of
a bird it was.  He called his wife and said, roast me the gold bird,
and take care that none of it is lost.  I have a fancy to eat it all
myself.  The bird, however, was no common one, but of so wondrous a
kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver found every morning a
piece of gold beneath his pillow.  The woman prepared the bird, put
it on the spit, and let it roast.  Now it happened that while it was
on the fire, and the woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on
account of some other work, the two children of the poor broom-maker
ran in, stood by the spit and turned it round once or twice.  And as
at that very moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the
pan, one of the boys said, we will eat these two little bits.  I am
so hungry, and no one will ever miss them.  Then the two ate the
pieces, but the woman came into the kitchen and saw that they were
eating something and said, what have you been eating.  Two little
morsels which fell out of the bird, answered they.  That must have
been the heart and the liver, said the woman, quite frightened, and
in order that her husband might not miss them and be angry, she
quickly killed a young cock, took out his heart and liver, and put
them beside the golden bird.  When it was ready, she carried it to
the goldsmith, who consumed it all alone, and left none of it.  Next
morning, however, when he felt beneath his pillow, and expected to
bring out the piece of gold, no more gold pieces were there than
there had always been.

The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune had fallen
to their lot.  Next morning when they arose, something fell rattling
to the ground, and when they picked it up there were two gold pieces.
They took them to their father, who was astonished and said, how can
that have happened.  When next morning they again found two, and so
on daily, he went to his brother and told him the strange story.  The
goldsmith at once knew how it had happened, and that the children had
eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to revenge
himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said to the
father, your children are in league with the evil one, do not take
the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in your house,
for he has them in his power, and may ruin you likewise.  The father
feared the evil one, and painful as it was to him, he nevertheless
led the twins forth into the forest, and with a sad heart left them
there.

And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the way
home again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves more and
more.  At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, to whom do you
children belong.  We are the poor broom-maker's boys, they replied,
and they told him that their father would not keep them any longer in
the house because a piece of gold lay every morning under their
pillows.  Come, said the huntsman, that is nothing so very bad, if at
the same time you remain honest, and are not idle.  As the good man
liked the children, and had none of his own, he took them home with
him and said, I will be your father, and bring you up till you are
big.  They learnt huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which
each of them found when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case
they should need it in the future.

When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took them into
the forest with him, and said, to-day shall you make your trial shot,
so that I may release you from your apprenticeship, and make you
huntsmen.  They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a long
time, but no game appeared.  The huntsman, however, looked above him
and saw a covey of wild geese flying in the form of a triangle, and
said to one of them,  shoot me down one from each corner.  He did it,
and thus accomplished his trial shot.

Soon after another covey came flying by in the form of the figure
two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring down one from each
corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful.  Now, said the
foster-father, I pronounce you out of your apprenticeship.  You are
skilled huntsmen.  Thereupon the two brothers went forth together
into the forest, and took counsel with each other and planned
something.  And in the evening when they had sat down to supper, they
said to their foster-father, we will not touch food, or take one
mouthful, until you have granted us a request.  Said he, what, then,
is your request.  They replied, we have now finished learning, and we
must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go away and travel.
Then spoke the old man joyfully, you talk like brave huntsmen, that
which you desire has been my wish.  Go forth, all will go well with
you.  Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together.

When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented each of
them with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them take as many of
his saved-up gold pieces as he chose.  Then he accompanied them a
part of the way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright knife,
and said, if ever you separate, stick this knife into a tree at the
place where you part, and when one of you returns, he will will be
able to see how his absent brother is faring, for the side of the
knife which is turned in the direction by which he went, will rust if
he dies, but will remain bright as long as he is alive.  The two
brothers went still farther onwards, and came to a forest which was
so large that it was impossible for them to get out of it in one day.
So they passed the night in it, and ate what they had put in their
hunting-pouches, but they walked all the second day likewise, and
still did not get out.  As they had nothing to eat, one of them said,
we must shoot something for ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger,
and loaded his gun, and looked about him.  And when an old hare came
running up towards them, he laid his gun on his shoulder, but the
hare cried,
     dear huntsman, do but let me live,
     two little ones to thee I'll give,
and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two young ones.

But the little creatures played so merrily, and were so pretty, that
the huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to kill them.  They
therefore kept them with them, and the little hares followed on foot.
Soon after this, a fox crept past.  They were just going to shoot it,
but the fox cried,
     dear hunstman, do but let me live,
     two little ones to thee I'll give.

He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did not like to
kill them either, but gave them to the hares for company, and they
followed behind.  It was not long before a wolf strode out of the
thicket.  The huntsmen made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried,
     dear huntsman, do but let me live,
     two little ones to thee I'll give.

The huntsman put the two wolves beside the other animals, and they
followed behind them.  Then a bear came who wanted to trot about a
little longer, and cried,
     dear huntsman, do but let me live,
     two little ones to thee I'll give.

The two young bears were added to the others, and there were already
eight of them.  Then who should come.  A lion came, and tossed his
mane.  But the huntsmen did not let themselves be frightened and
aimed at him likewise, but the lion also said,
     dear huntsman, do but let me live,
     two little ones to thee I'll give.

And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen had two
lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares, who followed
them and served them.  In the meantime their hunger was not appeased
by this, and they said to the foxes, listen you sneakers, provide us
with something to eat.  You are crafty and cunning.  They replied,
not far from here lies a village, from which we have already brought
many a fowl.  We will show you the way there.  So they went into the
village, bought themselves something to eat, had some food given to
their beasts, and then traveled onwards.  The foxes knew their way
very well about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and
were were able to guide the huntsmen.

Now they traveled about for a while, but could find no situation
where they could remain together, so they said, there is nothing else
for it, we must part.  They divided the animals, so that each of them
had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave
of each other, promised to love each other like brothers till their
death, and stuck the knife which their foster-father had given them,
into a tree, after which one went east and the other went west.

The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which was all
hung with black crape.  He went into an inn, and asked the host if he
could accommodate his animals.  The innkeeper gave him a stable,
where there was a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out and
fetched himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox fetched himself a
hen, and when he had devoured it got the cock as well, but the wolf,
the bear, and the lion could not get out because they were too big.
Then the innkeeper let them be taken to a place where a cow happened
to be lying on the grass, that they might eat till they were
satisfied.  And when the huntsman had taken care of his animals, he
asked the innkeeper why the town was thus hung with black crape.
Said the host, because our king's only daughter is to die to-morrow.
The huntsman inquired, is she sick unto death.  No, answered the
host, she is vigorous and healthy, nevertheless she must die.  How is
that, asked the huntsman.

There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a dragon who
every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the whole country
waste, and now all the maidens have already been given to him, and
there is no longer anyone left but the king's daughter, yet there is
no mercy for her.  She must be given up to him, and that is to be
done to-morrow.  Said the huntsman, why is the dragon not killed.
Ah, replied the host, so many knights have tried it, but it has cost
all of them their lives.  The king has promised that he who conquers
the dragon shall have his daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern
the kingdom after his own death.

The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took his
animals, and with them ascended the dragon's hill.  A little church
stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups were
standing, with the inscription.  Whosoever empties the cups will
become the strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the
sword which is buried before the threshold of the door.  The huntsman
did not drink, but went out and sought for the sword in the ground,
but was unable to move it from its place.  Then he went in and
emptied the cups, and now he was strong enough to take up the sword,
and his hand could quite easily wield it.  As the hour came when the
maiden was to be delivered over to the dragon, the king, the marshal,
and courtiers accompanied her.  From afar she saw the huntsman on the
dragon's hill, and thought it was the dragon standing there waiting
for her, and did not want to go up to him, but at last, because
otherwise the whole town would have been destroyed, she was forced to
take the fatal journey.  The king and courtiers returned home full of
grief.  The king's marshal, however, was to stand still, and see all
from a distance.

When the king's daughter got to the top of the hill, it was not the
dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who comforted her,
and said he would save her, led her into the church, and locked her
in.  It was not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither with
loud roaring.  When he perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and
said, what business have you here on the hill.  The huntsman
answered, I want to fight with you.  Said the dragon,  many knights
have left their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of you too,
and he breathed fire out of seven jaws.

The fire was to have lighted the dry grass, and the huntsman was to
have been suffocated in the heat and smoke, but the animals came
running up and trampled out the fire.  Then the dragon rushed upon
the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it sang through the air,
and struck off three of his heads.  Then the dragon grew really
furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames of fire over the
huntsman, and was about to plunge down on him, but the huntsman once
more drew out his sword, and again cut off three of his heads.  The
monster became faint and sank down.

Nevertheless it was just able to rush upon the huntsman, when he with
his last strength smote its tail off, and as he could fight no
longer, called up his animals who tore it in pieces.  When the
struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked the church, and found the
king's daughter lying on the floor, as she had lost her senses with
anguish and terror during the contest.  He carried her out, and when
she came to herself once more, and opened her eyes, he showed her the
dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she was now set free. She
rejoiced and said, now you will be my dearest husband, for my father
has promised me to him who kills the dragon.  Thereupon she took off
her necklace of coral, and divided it amongst the animals in order to
reward them, and the lion received the golden clasp.  Her
pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she gave to the
huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragons, seven
heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved them
carefully.

That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the battle,
he said to the maiden, we are both faint and weary, we will sleep
awhile.  Then she said, yes, and they lay down on the ground, and the
huntsman said to the lion, you shall keep watch, that no one
surprises us in our sleep, and both fell asleep.  The lion lay down
beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the fight, that
he called to the bear and said, lie down near me, I must sleep a
little.  If anything comes, waken me.  Then the bear lay down beside
him, but he also was tired, and called the wolf and said, lie down by
me, I must sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me.  Then the
wolf lay down by him, but he was tired likewise, and called the fox
and said, lie down by me, I must sleep a little, if anything comes
waken me.  Then the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary,
and called the hare and said, lie down near me, I must sleep a
little, and if anything should come, waken me.  Then the hare sat
down by him, but the poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he
could call there to keep watch, and fell asleep.  And now the king's
daughter, the huntsman, the lion, the bear, the wolf, the fox, and
the hare, were all sleeping a sound sleep.  The marshal, however, who
was to look on from a distance, took courage when he did not see the
dragon flying away with the maiden, and finding that all the hill had
become quiet, ascended it.

There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground, and not
far from it were the king's daughter and a huntsman with his animals,
and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep.  And as he was wicked and
godless he took his sword, cut off the huntsman's head, and seized
the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill.  Then she
awoke and was terrified, but the marshal said, you are in my hands,
you shall say that it was I who killed the dragon.

I cannot do that, she replied, for it was a huntsman with his animals
who did it.  Then he drew his sword, and threatened to kill her if
she did not obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it.
Then he took her to the king, who did not know how to contain himself
for joy when he once more looked on his dear child in life, whom he
had believed to have been torn to pieces by the monster.  The marshal
said to him, I have killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and
the whole kingdom as well, therefore I demand her as my wife, as was
promised.  The king said to the maiden, is what he says true.  Ah,
yes, she answered, it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to
have the wedding celebrated until after a year and a day, for she
thought in that time she should hear something of her dear huntsman.

The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their dead
master on the dragon's hill, and there came a great bumble-bee and
lighted on the hare's nose, but the hare wiped it off with his paw,
and went on sleeping.  The bumble-bee came a second time, but the
hare again rubbed it off and slept on.  Then it came for the third
time, and stung his nose so that he awoke.  As soon as the hare was
awake, he roused the fox, and the fox, the wolf, and the wolf the
bear, and the bear the lion.  And when the lion awoke and saw that
the maiden was gone, and his master was dead, he began to roar
frightfully and cried, who has done that.  Bear, why did you not
waken me.  The bear asked the wolf, why did you not waken me.  And
the wolf the fox, why did you not waken me.  And the fox the hare,
why did you not waken me.  The poor hare alone did not know what
answer to make, and the blame rested with him.  Then they were just
going to fall upon him, but he entreated them and said, kill me not,
I will bring our master to life again.  I know a mountain on which a
root grows which, when placed in the mouth of anyone, cures him of
all illness and every wound.  But the mountain lies two hundred
hours, journey from here.

The lion said, in four-and-twenty hours must you have run thither and
have come back, and have brought the root with you. Then the hare
sprang away, and in four-and-twenty hours he was back, and brought
the root with him.  The lion put the huntsman's head on again, and
the hare placed the root in his mouth, and immediately everything
united together again, and his heart beat, and life came back.  Then
the huntsman awoke, and was alarmed when he did not see the maiden,
and thought, she must have gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order
to get rid of me.  The lion in his great haste had put his master's
head on the wrong way round, but the huntsman did not observe it
because of his melancholy thoughts about the king's daughter.  But at
noon, when he was going to eat something, he saw that his head was
turned backwards and could not understand it, and asked the animals
what had happened to him in his sleep.  Then the lion told him that
they, too, had all fallen asleep from weariness, and on awaking, had
found him dead with his head cut off, that the hare had brought the
life-giving root, and that he, in his haste, had laid hold of the
head the wrong way, but that he would repair his mistake.  Then he
tore the huntsman's head off again, turned it round, and the hare
healed it with the root.

The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and traveled about the
world, and made his animals dance before people.  It came to pass
that precisely at the end of one year he came back to the same town
where he had rescued the king's daughter from the dragon, and this
time the town was gaily hung with red cloth.  Then he said to the
host, what does this mean.  Last year the town was all hung with
black crape, what means the red cloth to-day.  The host answered,
last year our king's daughter was to have been delivered over to the
dragon, but the marshal fought with it and killed it, and so
to-morrow their wedding is to be solemnized, and that is why the town
was then hung with black crape for mourning, and is to-day covered
with red cloth for joy.

Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman said at
mid-day to the inn-keeper, do you believe, sir host, that I while
with you here to-day shall eat bread from the king's own table.

Nay, said the host, I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that
will not come true.  The huntsman accepted the wager, and set against
it a purse with just the same number of gold pieces. Then he called
the hare and said, go, my dear runner, and fetch me some of the bread
which the king is eating.  Now the little hare was the lowest of the
animals, and could not transfer this order to any the others, but had
to get on his legs himself.  Alas. Thought he, if I bound through the
streets thus alone, the butchers, dogs will all be after me.  It
happened as he expected, and the dogs came after him and wanted to
make holes in his good skin.  But he sprang away, you have never seen
the like, and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier
being aware of it.  Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out,
but the soldier did not understand a jest, and struck them with the
butt-end of his gun, till they ran away yelling and howling.  As soon
as the hare saw that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and
straight to the king's daughter, sat down under her chair, and
scratched at her foot.  Then she said, will you get away, and thought
it was her dog.  The hare scratched her foot for the second time, and
she again said, will you get away, and thought it was her dog.  But
the hare did not let itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched
her for the third time.  Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by
its collar.

She took him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and said, dear
hare, what do you want.  He answered, my master, who killed the
dragon, is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread like that
which the king eats.  Then she was full of joy and had the baker
summoned, and ordered him to bring a loaf such as was eaten by the
king.  The little hare said, but the baker must likewise carry it
thither for me, that the butchers, dogs may do no harm to me.  The
baker carried if for him as far as the door of the inn, and then the
hare got on his hind legs, took the loaf in his front paws, and
carried it to his master.  Then said the huntsman, behold, sir host,
the hundred pieces of gold are mine.  The host was astonished, but
the huntsman went on to say, yes, sir host, I have the bread, but now
I will likewise have some of the king's roast meat.

The host said, I should indeed like to see that, but he would make no
more wagers.  The huntsman called the fox and said, my little fox, go
and fetch me some roast meat, such as the king eats.

The red fox knew the byways better, and went by holes and corners
without any dog seeing him, seated himself under the chair of the
king's daughter, and scratched her foot.  Then she looked down and
recognized the fox by its collar, took him into her chamber with her
and said, dear fox, what do you want.  He answered, my master, who
killed the dragon, is here, and has sent me.  I am to ask for some
roast meat such as the king is eating.  Then she made the cook come,
who was obliged to prepare a roast joint, the same as was eaten by
the king, and to carry it for the fox as far as the door.  Then the
fox took the dish, waved away with his tail the flies which had
settled on the meat, and then carried it to his master.  Behold, sir
host, said the huntsman, bread and meat are here but now I will also
have proper vegetables with it, such as are eaten by the king.  Then
he called the wolf, and said, dear wolf, go thither and fetch me
vegetables such as the king eats.

Then the wolf went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and
when he got to the king's daughter's parlor, he tugged at the back of
her dress, so that she was forced to look round.  She recognized him
by his collar, and took him into her chamber with her, and said, dear
wolf, what do you want.  He answered, my master, who killed the
dragon, is here, I am to ask for some vegetables, such as the king
eats.  Then she made the cook come, and he had to make ready a dish
of vegetables, such as the king ate, and had to carry it for the wolf
as far as the door, and then the wolf took the dish from him, and
carried it to his master.  Behold, sir host, said the huntsman, now I
have bread and meat and vegetables, but I will also have some pastry
to eat like that which the king eats.  He called the bear, and said,
dear bear, you are fond of licking anything sweet, go and bring me
some confectionery, such as the king eats.

The the bear trotted to the palace, and everyone got out of his way,
but when he went to the guard, they presented their muskets, and
would not let him go into the royal palace.  But he got up on his
hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears, right and left,
with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up, and then he went
straight to the king's daughter, placed himself behind her, and
growled a little.  Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and
bade him go into her room with her, and said, dear bear, what do you
want.  He answered, my master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I
am to ask for some confectionery such as the king eats.  Then she
summoned her confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the
king ate, and carry it to the door for the bear.  Then the bear first
licked up the comfits which had rolled down, and then he stood
upright, took the dish, and carried it to his master.  Behold, sir
host, said the huntsman, now I have bread, meat, vegetables and
confectionery, but I will drink wine also, and such as the king
drinks.  He called his lion to him and said, dear lion, you yourself
like to drink till you are tipsy, go and fetch me some wine, such as
is drunk by the king.

Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled from
him, and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way
against him, but he did but roar once, and they all ran away.  Then
the lion went to the royal apartment, and knocked at the door with
his tail.  The the king's daughter came forth, and was almost afraid
of the lion, but she knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace,
and bade him go with her into her chamber, and said, dear lion, what
will you have.  He answered, my master, who killed the dragon, is
here, and I am to ask for some wine such as is drunk by the king.
Then she bade the cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some
wine like that which was drunk by the king.  The lion said, I will go
with him, and see that I get the right wine.  Then he went down with
the cup-bearer, and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted to
draw him some of the common wine that was drunk by the king's
servants, but the lion said, stop, I will taste the wine first, and
he drew half a measure, and swallowed it down at one draught.  No,
said he, that is not right.  The cup-bearer looked at him askance,
but went on, and was about to give him some out of another barrel
which was for the king's marshal.  The lion said, stop, let me taste
the wine first, and drew half a measure and drank it.  That is
better, but still not right, said he.  Then the cup-bearer grew angry
and said, how can a stupid animal like you understand wine.  But the
lion gave him a blow behind the ears, which made him fall down by no
means gently, and when he had got up again, he conducted the lion
quite silently into a little cellar apart, where the king's wine lay,
from which no one ever drank.  The lion first drew half a measure and
tried the wine, and then he said, that may possibly be the right
sort, and bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of it.  And now they
went upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the cellar into
the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather drunk, and the
cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the door for him,
and then the lion took the handle of the basket in his mouth, and
took it to his master.  The huntsman said, behold, sir host, here
have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as the
king has, and now I will dine with my animals, and he sat down and
ate and drank, and gave the hare, the fox, the wolf, the bear, and
the lion also to eat and to drink, and was joyful, for he saw that
the king's daughter still loved him.  And when he had finished his
dinner, he said, sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the king
eats and drinks, and now I will go to the king's court and marry the
king's daughter.

Said the host, how can that be, when she already has a betrothed
husband, and when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day.  Then the
huntsman drew forth the handerchief which the king's daughter had
given him on the dragon's hill, and in which were folded the
monster's seven tongues, and said, that which I hold in my hand shall
help me to do it.  Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and
said, whatever I believe, I do not believe that, and I am willing to
stake my house and courtyard on it.  The huntsman, however, took a
bag with a thousand gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, I
stake that on it.

Now the king said to his daughter, at the royal table, what did all
the wild animals want, which have been coming to you, and going in
and out of my palace.  She replied, I may not tell you, but send and
have the master of these animals brought, and you will do well.  The
king sent a servant to the inn, and invited the stranger, and the
servant came just as the huntsman had laid his wager with the
innkeeper.  Then said he, behold, sir host, now the king sends his
servant and invites me, but I do not go in this way.

And he said to the servant, I request the lord king to send me royal
clothing, and a carriage with six horses, and servants to attend me.
When the king heard the answer, he said to his daughter, what shall I
do.  She said, cause him to be fetched as he desires to be, and you
will do well.  Then the king sent royal apparel, a carriage with six
horses, and servants to wait on him.  When the huntsman saw them
coming, he said, behold, sir host, now I am fetched as I desired to
be, and he put on the royal garments, took the handerchief with the
dragon's tongues with him, and drove off to the king.  When the king
saw him coming, he said to his daughter, how shall I receive him.
She answered, go to meet him and you will do well.  Then the king
went to meet him and led him in, and his animals followed.  The king
gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and the marshal, as
bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew the huntsman.
And now at this very moment, the seven heads of the dragon were
brought in as a spectacle, and the king said, the seven heads were
cut off the dragon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give him my
daughter to wife.  The the huntsman stood up, opened the seven
mouths, and said, where are the seven tongues of the dragon.  Then
was the marshal terrified, and grew pale and knew not what answer he
should make, and at length in his anguish he said, dragons have no
tongues.  The huntsman said, liars ought to have none, but the
dragon's tongues are the tokens of the victor, and he unfolded the
handerchief, and there lay all seven inside it.  And he put each
tongue in the mouth to which it belonged, and it fitted exactly.

Then he took the handkerchief on which the name of the princess was
embroidered, and showed it to the maiden, and asked to whom she had
given it, and she replied, to him who killed the dragon. And then he
called his animals, and took the collar off each of them and the
golden clasp from the lion, and showed them to the maiden and asked
to whom they belonged.  She answered, the necklace and golden clasp
were mine, but I divided them among the animals who helped to conquer
the dragon.  Then spoke the huntsman, when I, tired of the fight, was
resting and sleeping, the marshal came and cut off my head.  Then he
carried away the king's daughter, and gave out that it was he who had
killed the dragon, but that he lied I prove with the tongues, the
handkerchief, and the necklace.

And then he related how his animals had healed him by means of a
wonderful root, and how he had traveled about with them for one year,
and had at length come there and had learnt the treachery of the
marshal by the inn-keeper's story.  Then the king asked his daughter,
is it true that this man killed the dragon.

And she answered, yes, it is true.  Now can I reveal the wicked deed
of the marshal, as it has come to light without my connivance, for he
wrung from me a promise to be silent.  For this reason, however, did
I make the condition that the marriage should not be solemnized for a
year and a day.  Then the king bade twelve councillors be summoned
who were to pronounce judgment on the marshal, and they sentenced him
to be torn to pieces by four bulls.

The marshal was therefore executed, but the king gave his daughter to
the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the whole kingdom.  The
wedding was celebrated with great joy, and the young king caused his
father and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them with
treasures.  Neither did he forget the inn-keeper, but sent for him
and said, behold, sir host, I have married the king's daughter, and
your house and yard are mine.

The host said, yes, according to justice it is so.  But the young
king said, it shall be done according to mercy, and told him that he
should keep his house and yard, and gave him the thousand pieces of
gold as well.

And now the young king and queen were thoroughly happy, and lived in
gladness together.  He often went out hunting because it was a
delight to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany him.  In
the neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which it was
reported that it was haunted, and that whosoever did but enter it did
not easily get out again.  But the young king had a great inclination
to hunt in it, and let the old king have no peace until he allowed
him to do so.  So he rode forth with a great following, and when he
came to the forest, he saw a snow-white hind, and said to his men,
wait here until I return, I want to hunt that beautiful creature, and
he rode into the forest after it, followed only by his animals.  The
attendants halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so
they rode home, and told the young queen that the young king had
followed a white hind into the enchanted forest, and had not come
back again.  Then she was in the greatest concern about him.  He,
however, had still continued to ride on and on after the beautiful
wild animal, and had never been able to overtake it, when he thought
he was near enough to aim, he instantly saw it bound away into the
far distance, and at length it vanished altogether.  And now he
perceived that he had penetrated deep into the forest, and blew his
horn but he received no answer, for his attendants could not hear it.
And as night was falling, he saw that he could not get home that day,
so he dismounted from his horse, lighted himself a fire near a tree,
and resolved to spend the night by it.  While he was sitting by the
fire, and his animals also were lying down beside him, it seemed to
him that he heard a human voice.  He looked round, but could
perceived nothing.  Soon afterwards, he again heard a groan as if
from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old woman sitting in
the tree, who wailed unceasingly, oh, oh, oh, how cold I am.  Said
he, come down, and warm yourself if you are cold.  But she said, no,
your animals will bite me.  He answered, they will do you no harm,
old mother, do come down.  She, however, was a witch, and said, I
will throw down a wand from the tree, and if you strike them on the
back with it, they will do me no harm.  Then she threw him a small
wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they lay still and
were turned into stone.  And when the witch was safe from the
animals, she leapt down and touched him also with a wand, and changed
him to stone.  Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the animals
into a vault, where many more such stones already lay.

As the young king did not come back at all, the queen's anguish and
care grew constantly greater.  And it so happened that at this very
time the other brother who had turned to the east when they
separated, came into the kingdom.  He had sought a situation, and had
found none, and had then traveled about here and there, and had made
his animals dance.  Then it came into his mind that he would just go
and look at the knife that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at
their parting, that he might learn how his brother was.  When he got
there his brother's side of the knife was half rusted, and half
bright.  Then he was alarmed and thought, a great misfortune must
have befallen my brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half
the knife is still bright.  He and his animals traveled towards the
west, and when he entered the gate of the town, the guard came to
meet him, and asked if he was to announce him to his consort the
young queen, who had for a couple of days been in the greatest sorrow
about his staying away, and was afraid he had been killed in the
enchanted forest.

The sentries, indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was the young
king himself, for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running
behind him.  Then he saw that they were speaking of his brother, and
thought, it will be better if I pass myself off for him, and then I
can rescue him more easily.  So he allowed himself to be escorted
into the castle by the guard, and was received with the greatest joy.
The young queen indeed thought that he was her husband, and asked him
why he had stayed away so long.  He answered, I had lost myself in a
forest, and could not find my way out again any sooner.  At night he
was taken to the royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between him
and the young queen, she did not know what that could mean, but did
not venture to ask.

He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the meantime
inquired into everything which related to the enchanted forest, and
at last he said, I must hunt there once more.  The king and the young
queen wanted to persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against
them, and went forth with a larger following.  When he had got into
the forest, it fared with him as with his brother, he saw a white
hind and said to his men, stay here, and wait until I return, I want
to chase the lovely wild beast, and then he rode into the forest and
his animals ran after him.  But he could not overtake the hind, and
got so deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night
there.  And when he had lighted a fire, he heard someone wailing
above him, oh, oh, oh, how cold I am.

Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was sitting in the tree.
Said he, if you are cold, come down, little old mother, and warm
yourself.  She answered, no, your animals will bite me. But he said,
they will not hurt you.  Then she cried, I will throw down a wand to
you, and if you smite them with it they will do me no harm.  When the
huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in the old woman, and said,
I will not strike my animals.  Come down, or I will fetch you.  Then
she cried, what do you want.  You shall not touch me.  But he
replied, if you do not come, I will shoot you.  Said she, shoot away,
I do not fear your bullets.

Then he aimed, and fired at her, but the witch was proof against all
leaden bullets, and laughed shrilly and cried, you shall not hit me.
The huntsman knew what to do, tore three silver buttons off his coat,
and loaded his gun with them, for against them her arts were useless,
and when he fired she fell down at once with a scream.  Then he set
his foot on her and said, old witch, if you do not instantly confess
where my brother is, I will seize you with both my hands and throw
you into the fire.  She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and
said, he and his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone.  Then he
compelled her to go thither with him, threatened her, and said, old
sea-cat, now you shall make my brother and all the human beings lying
here, alive again, or you shall go into the fire.  She took a wand
and touched the stones, and then his brother with his animals came to
life again, and many others, merchants, artisans, and shepherds,
arose, thanked him for their deliverance, and went to their homes.
But when the twin brothers saw each other again, they kissed each
other and rejoiced with all their hearts.  Then they seized the
witch, bound her and laid her on the fire, and when she was burnt the
forest opened of its own accord, and was light and clear, and the
king's palace could be seen at about the distance of a three hours,
walk.

Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way told
each other their histories.  And when the younger said that he was
ruler of the whole country in the king's stead, the other observed,
that I remarked very well, for when I came to the town, and was taken
for you, all royal honors were paid me, the young queen looked on me
as her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep in your bed.
When the other heard that, he became so jealous and angry that he
drew his sword, and struck off his brother's head.  But when he saw
him lying there dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most
violently, my brother delivered me, cried he, and I have killed him
for it, and he bewailed him aloud.  Then his hare came and offered to
go and bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought
it while yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to life
again, and knew nothing about the wound.

After this they journeyed onwards, and the younger said, you look
like me, you have royal apparel on as I have, and the animals follow
you as they do me, we will go in by opposite gates, and arrive at the
same time from the two sides in the aged king's presence.  So they
separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from the one door
and from the other, and announced that the young king and the animals
had returned from the chase.

The king said, it is not possible, the gates lie quite a mile apart.
In the meantime, however, the two brothers entered the courtyard of
the palace from opposite sides, and both mounted the steps. Then the
king said to the daughter, say which is your husband.

Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell.  Then she
was in great distress, and could not tell, but at last she remembered
the necklace which she had given to the animals, and she sought for
and found her little golden clasp on the lion, and she cried in her
delight, he who is followed by this lion is my true husband.  Then
the young king laughed and said, yes, he is the right one, and they
sat down together to table, and ate and drank, and were merry.  At
night when the young king went to bed, his wife said, why have you
for these last nights always laid a two-edged sword in our bed.  I
thought you had a wish to kill me.  Then he knew how true his brother
had been.

Two kings' sons once went out in search of adventures, and fell into
a wild, disorderly way of living, so that they never came home again.
The youngest, who was called simpleton, set out to seek his brothers,
but when at length he found them they mocked him for thinking that he
with his simplicity could get through the world, when they two could
not make their way, and yet were so much cleverer.

They all three traveled away together, and came to an ant-hill.  The
two elder wanted to destroy it, to see the little ants creeping about
in their terror, and carrying their eggs away, but simpleton said,
leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to disturb them.

Then they went onwards and came to a lake, on which a great number of
ducks were swimming.  The two brothers wanted to catch a couple and
roast them, but simpleton would not permit it, and said, leave the
creatures in peace, I will not suffer you to kill them.

At length they came to a bee's nest, in which there was so much honey
that it ran out of the trunk of the tree where it was.  The two
wanted to make a fire beneath the tree, and suffocate the bees in
order to take away the honey, but simpleton again stopped them and
said, leave the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to burn
them.

At length the three brothers arrived at a castle where stone horses
were standing in the stables, and no human being was to be seen, and
they went through all the halls until, quite at the end, they came to
a door in which were three locks.  In the middle of the door,
however, there was a little pane, through which they could see into
the room.  There they saw a little grey man, who was sitting at a
table.  They called him, once, twice, but he did not hear, at last
they called him for the third time, when he got up, opened the locks,
and came out.  He said nothing, however, but conducted them to a
handsomely-spread table, and when they had eaten and drunk, he took
each of them to a bedroom.

Next morning the little grey man came to the eldest, beckoned to him,
and conducted him to a stone table, on which were inscribed three
tasks, by the performance of which the castle could be delivered from
enchantment.

The first was that in the forest, beneath the moss, lay the
princess's pearls, a thousand in number, which must be picked up, and
if by sunset one single pearl was missing, he who had looked for them
would be turned into stone.  The eldest went thither, and sought the
whole day, but when it came to an end, he had only found one hundred,
and what was written on the table came true, and he was turned into
stone. Next day, the second brother undertook the adventure, but it
did not fare much better with him than with the eldest, he did not
find more than two hundred pearls, and was changed to stone.  At last
it was simpleton's turn to seek in the moss, but it was so difficult
for him to find the pearls, and he got on so slowly, that he seated
himself on a stone, and wept.  And while he was thus sitting, the
king of the ants whose life he had once saved, came with five
thousand ants, and before long the little creatures had got all the
pearls together, and laid them in a heap.

The second task, however, was to fetch out of the lake the key of the
king's daughter's bed-chamber.  When simpleton came to the lake, the
ducks which he had saved, swam up to him, dived down, and brought the
key out of the water.

But the third task was the most difficult, from amongst the three
sleeping daughters of the king was the youngest and dearest to be
sought out.  They, however, resembled each other exactly, and were
only to be distinguished by their having eaten different sweetmeats
before they fell asleep, the eldest a bit of sugar, the second a
little syrup, and the youngest a spoonful of honey.

Then the queen of the bees, whom simpleton had protected from the
fire, came and tasted the lips of all three, and at last she remained
sitting on the mouth which had eaten honey, and thus the king's son
recognized the right princess.  Then the enchantment was at an end,
everything was delivered from sleep, and those who had been turned to
stone received once more their natural forms.

Simpleton married the youngest and sweetest princess, and after her
father's death became king, and his two brothers received the two
other sisters.
There was once upon a time a king who had three sons, of whom two
were clever and wise, but the third did not speak much, and was
simple, and was called the simpleton.  When the king had become old
and weak, and was thinking of his end, he did not know which of his
sons should inherit the kingdom after him.  Then he said to them, go
forth, and he who brings me the most beautiful carpet shall be king
after my death.

And that there should be no dispute amongst them, he took them
outside his castle, blew three feathers in the air, and said, you
shall go as they fly.  One feather flew to the east, the other to the
west, but the third flew straight up and did not fly far, but soon
fell to the ground.

And now one brother went to the right, and the other to the left, and
they mocked simpleton, who was forced to stay where the third feather
had fallen.  He sat down and was sad.  Then all at once he saw that
there was a trap-door close by the feather.  He raised it up, found
some steps, and went down them.  Then he came to another door,
knocked at it, and heard somebody inside calling -
          little green waiting-maid,
          waiting-maid with the limping leg,
          little dog of the limping leg,
          hop hither and thither,
          and quickly see who is without.

The door opened, and he saw a great, fat toad sitting, and round
about her a crowd of little toads.  The fat toad asked what he
wanted.  He answered, I should like to have the prettiest and finest
carpet in the world.  Then she called a young one and said -
          little green waiting-maid,
          waiting-maid with the limping leg,
          little dog of the limping leg,
          hop hither and thither,
          and bring me the great box.

The young toad brought the box, and the fat toad opened it, and gave
simpleton a carpet out of it, so beautiful and so fine, that on the
earth above, none could have been woven like it.  Then he thanked
her, and climbed out again.

The two others, however, had looked on their youngest brother as so
stupid that they believed he would find and bring nothing at all.
Why should we give ourselves a great deal of trouble searching, said
they, and got some coarse handkerchiefs from the first shepherds'
wives whom they met, and carried them home to the king.

At the same time simpleton also came back, and brought his beautiful
carpet, and when the king saw it he was astonished, and said, if
justice be done, the kingdom belongs to the youngest.  But the two
others let their father have no peace, and said that it was
impossible that simpleton, who in everything lacked understanding,
should be king, and entreated him to make a new agreement with them.
Then the father said, he who brings me the most beautiful ring shall
inherit the kingdom, and led the three brothers out, and blew into
the air three feathers, which they were to follow.  Those of the two
eldest again went east and west, and simpleton's feather flew
straight up, and fell down near the door into the earth.

Then he went down again to the fat toad, and told her that he wanted
the most beautiful ring.  She at once ordered her big box to be
brought, and gave him a ring out of it, which sparkled with jewels,
and was so beautiful that no goldsmith on earth would have been able
to make it.

The two eldest laughed at simpleton for going to seek a golden ring.
They gave themselves no trouble, but knocked the nails out of an old
carriage-ring, and took it to the king, but when simpleton produced
his golden ring, his father again said, the kingdom belongs to him.
The two eldest did not cease from tormenting the king until he made a
third condition, and declared that the one who brought the most
beautiful woman home, should have the kingdom.  He again blew the
three feathers into the air, and they flew as before.

Then simpleton without more ado went down to the fat toad, and said,
I am to take home the most beautiful woman.  Oh, answered the toad,
the most beautiful woman.  She is not at hand at the moment, but
still you shall have her.  She gave him a yellow turnip which had
been hollowed out, to which six mice were harnessed.  Then simpleton
said quite mournfully, what am I to do with that.  The toad answered,
just put one of my little toads into it.  Then he seized one at
random out of the circle, and put her into the yellow coach, but
hardly was she seated inside it than she turned into a wonderfully
beautiful maiden, and the turnip into a coach, and the six mice into
horses.  So he kissed her, and drove off quickly with the horses, and
took her to the king.

His brothers, who came afterwards, had given themselves no trouble at
all looking for beautiful girls, but had brought with them the first
peasant women they chanced to meet.  When the king saw them he said,
after my death the kingdom belongs to my youngest son.  But the two
eldest deafened the king's ears afresh with their clamor, we cannot
consent to simpleton's being king, and demanded that the one whose
wife could leap through a ring which hung in the centre of the hall
should have the preference.  They thought, the peasant women can do
that easily, they are strong enough, but the delicate maiden will
jump herself to death.

The aged king agreed likewise to this.  Then the two peasant women
jumped, and jumped through the ring, but were so clumsy that they
fell, and their coarse arms and legs broke in two.  And then the
pretty maiden whom simpleton had brought with him, sprang, and sprang
through as lightly as a deer, and all opposition had to cease. So he
received the crown, and has ruled wisely for a length of time.
There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called
Dummling, and was despised, mocked, and sneered at on every occasion.

It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood,
and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a
bottle of wine in order that he might not suffer from hunger or
thirst.

When he entered the forest he met a little grey-haired old man who
bade him good-day, and said, do give me a piece of cake out of your
pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine, I am so hungry and
thirsty.  But the clever son answered, if I give you my cake and
wine, I shall have none for myself, be off with you, and he left the
little man standing and went on.

But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he made
a false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that he had to go
home and have it bound up.  And this was the little grey man's doing.

After this the second son went into the forest, and his mother gave
him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine.  The little old
grey man met him likewise, and asked him for a piece of cake and a
drink of wine.  But the second son, too, said sensibly enough, what I
give you will be taken away from myself, be off, and he left the
little man standing and went on.  His punishment, however, was not
delayed, when he had made a few blows at the tree he struck himself
in the leg, so that he had to be carried home.

Then Dummling said, father, do let me go and cut wood.  The father
answered, your brothers have hurt themselves with it, leave it alone,
you do not understand anything about it.  But Dummling begged so long
that at last he said, just go then, you will get wiser by hurting
yourself.  His mother gave him a cake made with water and baked in
the cinders, and with it a bottle of sour beer.

When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him likewise,
and greeting him, said, give me a piece of your cake and a drink out
of your bottle, I am so hungry and thirsty.

Dummling answered, I have only cinder-cake and sour beer, if that
pleases you, we will sit down and eat.  So they sat down, and when
Dummling pulled out his cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake, and
the sour beer had become good wine.  So they ate and drank, and after
that the little man said, since you have a good heart, and are
willing to divide what you have, I will give you good luck. There
stands an old tree, cut it down, and you will find something at the
roots.  Then the little man took leave of him.

Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a
goose sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He lifted her
up, and taking her with him, went to an inn where he thought he would
stay the night.  Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose
and were curious to know what such a wonderful bird might be, and
would have liked to have one of its golden feathers.

The eldest thought, I shall soon find an opportunity of pulling out a
feather, and as soon as Dummling had gone out she seized the goose by
the wing, but her finger and hand remained sticking fast to it.

The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she might get a
feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched her sister than she
was held fast.

At last the third also came with the like intent, and the others
screamed out, keep away, for goodness, sake keep away.  But she did
not understand why she was to keep away.  The others are there, she
thought, I may as well be there too, and ran to them, but as soon as
she had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her.  So
they had to spend the night with the goose.

The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and set out,
without troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on
to it.  They were obliged to run after him continually, now left, now
right, wherever his legs took him.

In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he saw the
procession he said, for shame, you good-for-nothing girls, why are
you running across the fields after this young man.  Is that seemly?
At the same time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull
her away, but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck fast, and
was himself obliged to run behind.

Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the parson,
running behind three girls.  He was astonished at this and called
out, hi, your reverence, whither away so quickly.  Do not forget that
we have a christening to-day, and running after him he took him by
the sleeve, but was also held fast to it. Whilst the five were
trotting thus one behind the other, two laborers came with their hoes
from the fields, the parson called out to them and begged that they
would set him and the sexton free.  But they had scarcely touched the
sexton when they were held fast, and now there were seven of them
running behind Dummling and the goose.

Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had a
daughter who was so serious that no one could make her laugh.  So he
had put forth a decree that whosoever should be able to make her
laugh should marry her.  When Dummling heard this, he went with his
goose and all her train before the king's daughter, and as soon as
she saw the seven people running on and on, one behind the other, she
began to laugh quite loudly, and as if she would never stop.

Thereupon Dummling asked to have her for his wife, but the king did
not like the son-in-law, and made all manner of excuses and said he
must first produce a man who could drink a cellarful of wine.

Dummling thought of the little grey man, who could certainly help
him, so he went into the forest, and in the same place where he had
felled the tree, he saw a man sitting, who had a very sorrowful face.
Dummling asked him what he was taking to heart so sorely, and he
answered, I have such a great thirst and cannot quench it, cold water
I cannot stand, a barrel of wine I have just emptied, but that to me
is like a drop on a hot stone.

There, I can help you, said Dummling, just come with me and you shall
be satisfied.

He led him into the king's cellar, and the man bent over the huge
barrels, and drank and drank till his loins hurt, and before the day
was out he had emptied all the barrels.  Then Dummling asked once
more for his bride, but the king was vexed that such an ugly fellow,
whom everyone called Dummling, should take away his daughter, and he
made a new condition, he must first find a man who could eat a whole
mountain of bread.  Dummling did not think long, but went straight
into the forest, where in the same place there sat a man who was
tying up his body with a strap, and making an awful face, and saying,
I have eaten a whole ovenful of rolls, but what good is that when one
has such a hunger as I.  My stomach remains empty, and I must tie
myself up if I am not to die of hunger.

At this Dummling was glad, and said, get up and come with me, you
shall eat yourself full.  He led him to the king's palace, where all
the flour in the whole kingdom was collected, and from it he caused a
huge mountain of bread to be baked.  The man from the forest stood
before it, began to eat, and by the end of one day the whole mountain
had vanished.  Then Dummling for the third time asked for his bride,
but the king again sought a way out, and ordered a ship which could
sail on land and on water.  As soon as you come sailing back in it,
said he, you shall have my daughter for wife.

Dummling went straight into the forest, and there sat the little grey
man to whom he had given his cake.  When he heard what Dummling
wanted, he said, since you have given me to eat and to drink, I will
give you the ship, and I do all this because you once were kind to
me.  Then he gave him the ship which could sail on land and water,
and when the king saw that, he could no longer prevent him from
having his daughter.  The wedding was celebrated, and after the
king's death, Dummling inherited his kingdom and lived for a long
time contentedly with his wife.
	Allerleirauh

There was once upon a time a king who had a wife with golden hair,
and she was so beautiful that her equal was not to be found on earth.
It came to pass that she lay ill, and as she felt that she must soon
die, she called the king and said, if you wish to marry again after
my death, take no one who is not quite as beautiful as I am, and who
has not just such golden hair as I have, this you must promise me.
And after the king had promised her this she closed her eyes and
died.

For a long time the king could not be comforted, and had no thought
of taking another wife.  At length his councillors said, this cannot
go on.  The king must marry again, that we may have a queen.  And now
messengers were sent about far and wide, to seek a bride who equalled
the late queen in beauty.  In the whole world, however, none was to
be found, and even if one had been found, still there would have been
no one who had such golden hair.  So the messengers came home as they
went.

Now the king had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her dead
mother, and had the same golden hair.  When she was grown up the king
looked at her one day, and saw that in every respect she was like his
late wife, and suddenly felt a violent love for her.  Then he spoke
to his councillors, I will marry my daughter, for she is the
counterpart of my late wife, otherwise I can find no bride who
resembles her.  When the councillors heard that, they were shocked,
and said, God has forbidden a father to marry his daughter.  No good
can come from such a crime, and the kingdom will be involved in the
ruin.

The daughter was still more shocked when she became aware of her
father's resolution, but hoped to turn him from his design. Then she
said to him, before I fulfil your wish, I must have three dresses,
one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as
bright as the stars, besides this, I wish for a mantle of a thousand
different kinds of fur and peltry joined together, and one of every
kind of animal in your kingdom must give a piece of his skin for it.
For she thought, to get that will be quite impossible, and thus I
shall divert my father from his wicked intentions.  The king,
however, did not give it up, and the cleverest maidens in his kingdom
had to weave the three dresses, one as golden as the sun, one as
silvery as the moon, and one as bright as the stars, and his huntsmen
had to catch one of every kind of animal in the whole of his kingdom,
and take from it a piece of its skin, and out of these was made a
mantle of a thousand different kinds of fur.  At length, when all was
ready, the king caused the mantle to be brought, spread it out before
her, and said, the wedding shall be tomorrow.

When, therefore, the king's daughter saw that there was no longer any
hope of turning her father's heart, she resolved to run away.  In the
night whilst every one was asleep, she got up, and took three
different things from her treasures, a golden ring, a golden
spinning-wheel, and a golden reel.  The three dresses of the sun,
moon, and stars she placed into a nutshell, put on her mantle of all
kinds of fur, and blackened her face and hands with soot.  Then she
commended herself to God, and went away, and walked the whole night
until she reached a great forest.  And as she was tired, she got into
a hollow tree, and fell asleep.

The sun rose, and she slept on, and she was still sleeping when it
was full day.  Then it so happened that the king to whom this forest
belonged, was hunting in it.  When his dogs came to the tree, they
sniffed, and ran barking round about it.  The king said to the
huntsmen, just see what kind of wild beast has hidden itself in
there.  The huntsmen obeyed his order, and when they came back they
said, a wondrous beast is lying in the hollow tree, we have never
before seen one like it.  Its skin is fur of a thousand different
kinds, but it is lying asleep.  Said the king, see if you can catch
it alive, and then fasten it to the carriage, and we will take it
with us.  When the huntsmen laid hold of the maiden, she awoke full
of terror, and cried to them, I am a poor child, deserted by father
and mother, have pity on me, and take me with you.  Then said they,
Allerleirauh, you will be useful in the kitchen, come with us, and
you can sweep up the ashes.  So they put her in the carriage, and
took her home to the royal palace.  There they pointed out to her a
closet under the stairs, where no daylight entered, and said, hairy
animal, there you can live and sleep.  Then she was sent into the
kitchen, and there she carried wood and water, swept the hearth,
plucked the fowls, picked the vegetables, raked the ashes, and did
all the dirty work.

Allerleirauh lived there for a long time in great wretchedness. Alas,
fair princess, what is to become of you now.  It happened, however,
that one day a feast was held in the palace, and she said to the
cook, may I go upstairs for a while, and look on.  I will place
myself outside the door.  The cook answered, yes, go, but you must be
back here in half-an-hour to sweep the hearth.

Then she took her oil-lamp, went into her den, put off her dress of
fur, and washed the soot off her face and hands, so that her full
beauty once more came to light.  And she opened the nut, and took out
her dress which shone like the sun, and when she had done that she
went up to the festival, and every one made way for her, for no one
knew her, and thought no otherwise than that she was a king's
daughter.  The king came to meet her, gave his hand to her, and
danced with her, and thought in his heart, my eyes have never yet
seen any one so beautiful.  When the dance was over she curtsied, and
when the king looked round again she had vanished, and none knew
whither.  The guards who stood outside the palace were called and
questioned, but no one had seen her.

She had run into her little den, however, there quickly taken off her
dress, made her face and hands black again, put on the mantle of fur,
and again was Allerleirauh.  And now when she went into the kitchen,
and was about to get to her work and sweep up the ashes, the cook
said, leave that alone till morning, and make me the soup for the
king, I, too, will go upstairs awhile, and take a look, but let no
hairs fall in, or in future you shall have nothing to eat.  So the
cook went away, and Allerleirauh made the soup for the king, and made
bread soup and the best she could, and when it was ready she fetched
her golden ring from her little den, and put it in the bowl in which
the soup was served.  When the dancing was over, the king had his
soup brought and ate it, and he liked it so much that it seemed to
him he had never tasted better.  But when he came to the bottom of
the bowl, he saw a golden ring lying, and could not conceive how it
could have got there.  Then he ordered the cook to appear before him.
The cook was terrified when he heard the order, and said to
Allerleirauh, you have certainly let a hair fall into the soup, and
if you have, you shall be beaten for it.

When he came before the king the latter asked who had made the soup.
The cook replied, I made it.  But the king said, that is not true,
for it was much better than usual, and cooked differently.  He
answered, I must acknowledge that I did not make it, it was made by
the hairy animal.  The king said, go and bid it come up here.

When Allerleirauh came, the king said, who are you.  I am a poor girl
who no longer has any father or mother.  He asked further, of what
use are you in my palace.  She answered, I am good for nothing but to
have boots thrown at my head.  He continued, where did you get the
ring which was in the soup.  She answered, I know nothing about the
ring.  So the king could learn nothing, and had to send her away
again.

After a while, there was another festival, and then, as before,
Allerleirauh begged the cook for leave to go and look on.  He
answered, yes, but come back again in half-an-hour, and make the king
the bread soup which he so much likes.  Then she ran into her den,
washed herself quickly, and took out of the nut the dress which was
as silvery as the moon, and put it on.  Then she went up and was like
a princess, and the king stepped forward to meet her, and rejoiced to
see her once more, and as the dance was just beginning they danced it
together.  But when it was ended, she again disappeared so quickly
that the king could not observe where she went.  She, however, sprang
into her den, and once more made herself a hairy animal, and went
into the kitchen to prepare the bread soup.  When the cook had gone
upstairs, she fetched the little golden spinning-wheel, and put it in
the bowl so that the soup covered it.  Then it was taken to the king,
who ate it, and liked it as much as before, and had the cook brought,
who this time likewise was forced to confess that Allerleirauh had
prepared the soup.  Allerleirauh again came before the king, but she
answered that she was good for nothing else but to have boots thrown
at her head, and that she knew nothing at all about the little golden
spinning-wheel.

When, for the third time, the king held a festival, all happened just
as it had done before.  The cook said, fur-skin, you are a witch, and
always put something in the soup which makes it so good that the king
likes it better than that which I cook, but as she begged so hard, he
let her go up at the appointed time.  And now she put on the dress
which shone like the stars, and thus entered the hall.  Again the
king danced with the beautiful maiden, and thought that she never yet
had been so beautiful.

And whilst she was dancing, he contrived, without her noticing it, to
slip a golden ring on her finger, and he had given orders that the
dance should last a very long time.  When it was ended, he wanted to
hold her fast by her hands, but she tore herself loose, and sprang
away so quickly through the crowd that she vanished from his sight.
She ran as fast as she could into her den beneath the stairs, but as
she had been too long, and had stayed more than half-an-hour she
could not take off her pretty dress, but only threw over it her
mantle of fur, and in her haste she did not make herself quite black,
but one finger remained white.  Then Allerleirauh ran into the
kitchen, and cooked the bread soup for the king, and as the cook was
away, put her golden reel into it.

When the king found the reel at the bottom of it, he caused
Allerleirauh to be summoned, and then he espied the white finger, and
saw the ring which he had put on it during the dance.  Then he
grasped her by the hand, and held her fast, and when she wanted to
release herself and run away, her mantle of fur opened a little, and
the star-dress shone forth.  The king clutched the mantle and tore it
off.  Then her golden hair shone forth, and she stood there in full
splendor, and could no longer hide herself.  And when she had washed
the soot and ashes from her face, she was more beautiful than anyone
who had ever been seen on earth.  But the king said, you are my dear
bride, and we will never more part from each other. Thereupon the
marriage was solemnized, and they lived happily until their death.
There was once a woman and her daughter who lived in a
pretty garden with cabbages.  And a little hare came into it,
and during the winter time ate all the cabbages.  Then says the
mother to the daughter, go into the garden, and chase the hare away.

The girl says to the little hare, sh-sh, hare, you will be eating
all our cabbages.  Says the hare, come, maiden, and seat yourself
on my little hare's tail, and come with me into my
little hare's hut.  The girl will not do it.

Next day the hare
comes again and eats the cabbages, then says the mother to the
daughter, go into the garden, and drive the hare away.  The girl
says to the hare, sh-sh, little hare, you will be eating all the
cabbages.  The little hare says, maiden, seat yourself on my
little hare's tail, and come with me into my little hare's hut.
The maiden refuses.

The third day the hare comes again, and eats
the cabbages.  On this the mother says to the daughter, go into
the garden, and hunt the hare away.  Says the maiden, sh-sh, little
hare, you will be eating all our cabbages.  Says the little
hare, come, maiden, seat yourself on my little hare's tail,
and come with me into my little hare's hut.

The girl seats
herself on the little hare's tail, and then the hare takes her
far away to his little hut, and says, now cook green cabbage and
millet-seed, and I will invite the wedding-guests.  Then all
the wedding-guests assembled.  Who were the wedding-guests?
That I can tell you as another told it to me.  They were all
hares, and the crow was there as parson to marry the bride
and bridegroom, and the fox as clerk, and the altar was under
the rainbow.

The girl, however, was sad, for she was all alone.  The little hare
comes and says, open the doors, open the doors, the wedding-guests
are merry.  The bride says nothing, but weeps.  The little
hare goes away.  The little hare comes back and says, take off
the lid, take off the lid, the wedding-guests are hungry.  The
bride again says nothing, and weeps.  The little hare goes away.
The little hare comes back and says, take off the lid, take off
the lid, the wedding-guests are waiting.  Then the bride says
nothing, and the hare goes away, but she dresses a straw-doll
in her clothes, and gives her a spoon to stir with, and sets
her by the pan with the millet-seed, and goes back to her
mother.  The little hare comes once more and says, take off
the lid, take off the lid, and gets up, and strikes the doll
on the head so that her cap falls off.
Then the little hare sees that it is not his bride, and goes
away and is sorrowful.
There was once a king's son who had a bride whom he loved very much.
And when he was sitting beside her and very happy, news came that his
father lay sick unto death, and desired to see him once again before
his end.  Then he said to his beloved, I must now go and leave you, I
give you a ring as a remembrance of me.  When I am king, I will
return and fetch you.

So he rode away, and when he reached his father, the latter was
dangerously ill, and near his death.  He said to him, dear son, I
wished to see you once again before my end, promise me to marry as I
wish, and he named a certain king's daughter who was to be his wife.
The son was in such trouble that he did not think what he was doing,
and said, yes, dear father, your will shall be done, and thereupon
the king shut his eyes, and died.

When therefore the son had been proclaimed king, and the time of
mourning was over, he was forced to keep the promise which he had
given his father, and caused the king's daughter to be asked in
marriage, and she was promised to him.  His first betrothed heard of
this, and fretted so much about his faithlessness that she nearly
died.  Then her father said to her, dearest child, why are you so
sad.  You shall have whatsoever you will.  She thought for a moment
and said, dear father, I wish for eleven girls exactly like myself in
face, figure, and size.  The father said, if it be possible, your
desire shall be fulfilled, and he caused a search to be made in his
whole kingdom, until eleven young maidens were found who exactly
resembled his daughter in face, figure, and size.

When they came to the king's daughter, she had twelve suits of
huntsmen's clothes made, all alike, and the eleven maidens had to put
on the huntsmen's clothes, and she herself put on the twelfth suit.

Thereupon she took leave of her father, and rode away with them, and
rode to the court of her former betrothed, whom she loved so dearly.
Then she asked if he required any huntsmen, and if he would take all
of them into his service.  The king looked at her and did not know
her, but as they were such handsome fellows, he said, yes, and that
he would willingly take them, and now they were the king's twelve
huntsmen.

The king, however, had a lion which was a wondrous animal, for he
knew all concealed and secret things.  It came to pass that one
evening he said to the king, you think you have twelve huntsmen.
Yes, said the king, they are twelve huntsmen. The lion continued, you
are mistaken, they are twelve girls.

The king said, that cannot be true.  How will you prove that to me.
Oh, just let some peas be strewn in the ante-chamber, answered swered
the lion, and then you will soon see.  Men have a firm step, and when
they walk over the peas none of them stir, but girls trip and skip,
and drag their feet, and the peas roll about. The king was well
pleased with the counsel, and caused the peas to be strewn.

There was, however, a servant of the king's who favored the huntsmen,
and when he heard that they were going to be put to this test he went
to them and repeated everything, and said, the lion wants to make the
king believe that you are girls.  Then the king's daughter thanked
him, and said to her maidens, show some strength, and step firmly on
the peas.  So next morning when the king had the twelve huntsmen
called before him, and they came into the ante-chamber where the peas
were lying, they stepped so firmly on them, and had such a strong,
sure walk, that not one of the peas either rolled or stirred.

Then they went away again, and the king said to the lion, you have
lied to me, they walk just like men.  The lion said, they have been
informed that they were going to be put to the test, and have assumed
some strength.  Just let twelve spinning-wheels be brought into the
ante-chamber, and they will go to them and be pleased with them, and
that is what no man would do.  The king liked the advice, and had the
spinning-wheels placed in the ante-chamber.

But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen, went to them,
and disclosed the project.  So when they were alone the king's
daughter said to her eleven girls, show some constraint, and do not
look round at the spinning-wheels.  And next morning when the king
had his twelve huntsmen summoned, they went through the ante-chamber,
and never once looked at the spinning wheels.

Then the king again said to the lion, you have deceived me, they are
men, for they have not looked at the spinning-wheels. The lion
replied, they have learnt that they were going to be put to the test,
and have restrained themselves.  The king, however, would no longer
believe the lion.

The twelve huntsmen always followed the king to the chase, and his
liking for them continually increased.  Now it came to pass that once
when they were hunting, news came that the king's bride was
approaching.  When the true bride heard that, it hurt her so much
that her heart was almost broken, and she fell fainting to the
ground.  The king thought something had happened to his dear
huntsman, ran up to him, wanted to help him, and drew his glove off.
Then he saw the ring which he had given to his first bride, and when
he looked in her face he recognized her.

Then his heart was so touched that he kissed her, and when she opened
her eyes he said, you are mine, and I am yours, and no one in the
world can alter that.  He sent a messenger to the other bride, and
entreated her to return to her own kingdom, for he had a wife
already, and someone who had found an old key did not require a new
one.  Thereupon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion was again
taken into favor, because, after all, he had told the truth.
Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went into the
church and prayed to our Lord God to know which would be the most
suitable for him.  Then the clerk got behind the altar, and said,
thieving, thieving.  On this Hans goes back to his son, and tells him
he is to learn thieving, and that the Lord God had said so.  So he
goes with his son to seek a man who is acquainted with thieving.
They walk a long time and come into a great forest, where stands a
little house with an old woman in it.  Hans says, do you know of a
man who is acquainted with thieving.  You can learn that here quite
well, says the woman, my son is a master of it.  So he speaks with
the son, and asks if he knows thieving really well.  The master-thief
says, I will teach him well.  Come back when a year is over, and then
if you recognize your son, I will take no payment at all for teaching
him, but if you don't know him, you must give me two hundred talers.

The father goes home again, and the son learns witchcraft and
thieving, thoroughly.  When the year is out, the father is full of
anxiety to know how he shall recognize his son.  As he is thus going
about in his trouble, he meets a little dwarf, who says, man, what
ails you, that you are always in such trouble.

Oh, says Hans, a year ago I placed my son with a master-thief who
told me I was to come back when the year was out, and that if I then
did not know my son when I saw him, I was to pay two hundred talers,
but if I did know him I was to pay nothing, and now I am afraid of
not knowing him and can't tell where I am to get the money.  Then the
dwarf tells him to take a crust of bread with him, and to stand
beneath the chimney.  There on the cross-beam is a basket, out of
which a little bird is peeping, and that is your son.

Hans goes thither, and throws a crust of black bread in front of the
basket with the bird in it, and the little bird comes out, and looks
up.  Hello, my son, are you here, says the father, and the son is
delighted to see his father, but the master-thief says, the devil
must have prompted you, or how could you have known your son.
Father, let us go, said the youth.

Then the father and son set out homeward.  On the way a carriage
comes driving by.  Hereupon the son says to his father, I will change
myself into a large greyhound, and then you can earn a great deal of
money by me.  Then the gentleman calls from the carriage, my man,
will you sell your dog.  Yes, says the father. How much do you want
for it.  Thirty talers.  Well, man, that is a great deal, but as it
is such a very fine dog I will have it. The gentleman takes it into
his carriage, but when they have driven a little farther the dog
springs out of the carriage through the window, and goes back to his
father, and is no longer a greyhound.

They go home together.  Next day there is a fair in the neighboring
town, so the youth says to his father, I will now change myself into
a beautiful horse, and you can sell me, but when you have sold me,
you must take off my bridle, or I cannot become a man again.  Then
the father goes with the horse to the fair, and the master-thief
comes and buys the horse for a hundred talers, but the father
forgets, and does not take off the bridle.  So the man goes home with
the horse, and puts it in the stable.

When the maid crosses the threshold, the horse says, take off my
bridle, take off my bridle. Then the maid stands still, and says,
what, can you speak.  So she goes and takes the bridle off, and the
horse becomes a sparrow, and flies out at the door, and the
master-thief becomes a sparrow also, and flies after him.

Then they come together and cast lots again, and the master loses.
So the master changes himself into a cock, and the youth becomes a
fox, and bites the master's head off, and he died and has remained
dead to this day.
A father once called his three sons before him, and he gave to the
first a cock, to the second a scythe, and to the third a cat.  I am
already aged, said he, my death is nigh, and I have wished to provide
for you before my end, money I have not, and what I now give you
seems of little worth, but all depends on your making a sensible use
of it.  Only seek out a country where such things are still unknown,
and your fortune is made.

After the father's death the eldest went away with his cock, but
wherever he came the cock was already known, in the towns he saw him
from a long distance, sitting upon the steeples and turning round
with the wind, and in the villages he heard more than one crowing, no
one would show any wonder at the creature, so that it did not look as
if he would make his fortune by it.

At last, however, it happened that he came to an island where the
people knew nothing about cocks, and did not even understand how to
divide their time.  They certainly knew when it was morning or
evening, but at night, if they did not sleep through it, not one of
them knew how to find out the time.

Look. Said he, what a proud creature.  It has a ruby-red crown upon
its head, and wears spurs like a knight, it calls you three times
during the night, at fixed hours, and when it calls for the last
time, the sun soon rises.  But if it crows by broad daylight, then
take notice, for there will certainly be a change of weather.

The people were well pleased, for a whole night they did not sleep,
and listened with great delight as the cock at two, four, and six
o'clock, loudly and clearly proclaimed the time.  They asked if the
creature were for sale, and how much he wanted for it.  About as much
gold as an ass can carry, answered he.  A ridiculously small price
for such a precious creature. They cried unanimously, and willingly
gave him what he had asked.

When he came home with his wealth his brothers were astonished, and
the second said, well, I will go forth and see whether I cannot get
rid of my scythe as profitably.  But it did not look as if he would,
for laborers met him everywhere, and they had scythes upon their
shoulders as well as he.

At last, however, he chanced upon an island where the people knew
nothing of scythes.  When the corn was ripe there, they took cannon
out to the fields and shot it down.  Now this was rather an uncertain
affair, many shot right over it, others hit the ears instead of the
stems, and shot them away, whereby much was lost, and besides all
this, it made a terrible noise.  So the man set to work and mowed it
down so quietly and quickly that the people opened their mouths with
astonishment.  They agreed to give him what he wanted for the scythe,
and he received a horse laden with as much gold as it could carry.

And now the third brother wanted to take his cat to the right man. He
fared just like the others, so long as he stayed on the mainland
there was nothing to be done.  Every place had cats, and there were
so many of them that new-born kittens were generally drowned in the
ponds.

At last he sailed over to an island, and it luckily happened that no
cats had ever yet been seen there, and that the mice had got the
upper hand so much that they danced upon the tables and benches
whether the master were at home or not.  The people complained
bitterly of the plague, the king himself in his palace did not know
how to protect himself against them, mice squeaked in every corner,
and gnawed whatever they could lay hold of with their teeth.

But now the cat began her chase, and soon cleared a couple of rooms,
and the people begged the king to buy the wonderful beast for the
country.  The king willingly gave what was asked, which was a mule
laden with gold, and the third brother came home with the greatest
treasure of all.

The cat made herself merry with the mice in the royal palace, and
killed so many that they could not be counted.  At last she grew warm
with the work and thirsty, so she stood still, lifted up her head and
cried, mew. Mew.

When they heard this strange cry, the king and all his people were
frightened, and in their terror ran all at once out of the palace.
Then the king took counsel what was best to be done, at last it was
determined to send a herald to the cat, and demand that she should
leave the palace, or if not, she was to expect that force would be
used against her.  The councillors said, rather will we let ourselves
be plagued with the mice, for to that misfortune we are accustomed,
than give up our lives to such a monster as this.  A noble youth,
therefore, was sent to ask the cat whether she would peaceably quit
the castle.  But the cat, whose thirst had become still greater,
merely answered, mew. Mew.  The youth understood her to say, "Most
certainly not. Most certainly not." And took this answer to the king.

Then, said the councillors, she shall yield to force. Cannon were
brought out, and the palace was soon in flames.  When the fire
reached the room where the cat was sitting, she sprang safely out of
the window, but the besiegers did not leave off until the whole
palace was shot down to the ground.
There was once a man who understood all kinds of arts.  He served in
war, and behaved well and bravely, but when the war was over he
received his dismissal, and three farthings for his expenses on the
way.  Wait, said he, I shall not be content with this. If I can only
meet with the right people, the king will yet have to give me all the
treasure of the country.

Then full of anger he went into the forest, and saw a man standing
therein who had plucked up six trees as if they were blades of corn.
He said to him, will you be my servant and go with me.  Yes, he
answered, but, first, I will take this little bundle of sticks home
to my mother, and he took one of the trees, and wrapped it round the
five others, lifted the bundle on his back, and carried it away. Then
he returned and went with his master, who said, we two ought to be
able to get through the world very well, and when they had walked on
for a short while they found a huntsman who was kneeling, had
shouldered his gun, and was about to fire.  The master said to him,
huntsman, what are you going to shoot.  He answered, two miles from
here a fly is sitting on the branch of an oak-tree, and I want to
shoot its left eye out.

Oh, come with me, said the man, if we three are together, we
certainly ought to be able to get on in the world.  The huntsman was
ready, and went with him, and they came to seven windmills whose
sails were turning round with great speed, and yet no wind was
blowing either on the right or the left, and no leaf was stirring.
Then said the man, I know not what is driving the windmills, not a
breath of air is stirring, and he went onwards with his servants, and
when they had walked two miles they saw a man sitting on a tree who
was shutting one nostril, and blowing out of the other.  Good
gracious.  What are you doing up there.

He answered, two miles from here are seven windmills.  Look, I am
blowing them till they turn round.  Oh, come with me, said the man.
If we four are together, we shall carry the whole world before us.
Then the blower came down and went with him, and after a while they
saw a man who was standing on one leg and had taken off the other,
and laid it beside him.  Then the master said, you have arranged
things very comfortably to have a rest.

I am a runner, he replied, and to stop myself running far too fast, I
have taken off one of my legs, for if I run with both, I go quicker
than any bird can fly.  Oh, go with me.  If we five are together, we
shall carry the whole world before us.

So he went with them, and it was not long before they met a man who
wore a cap, but wore it entirely over one ear.  Then the master said
to him, gracefully, gracefully, don't stick your cap on one ear, you
look just like a tom-fool.  I must not wear it otherwise, said he,
for if I set my hat straight, a terrible frost comes on, and all the
birds in the air are frozen, and drop dead on the ground.  Oh, come
with me, said the master. If we six are together, we can carry the
whole world before us.

Now the six came to a town where the king had proclaimed that
whosoever ran a race with his daughter and won the victory, should be
her husband, but whosoever lost it, must lose his head.  Then the man
presented himself and said, I will, however, let my servant run for
me.  The king replied, then his life also must be staked, so that his
head and yours are both set on the victory.  When that was settled
and made secure, the man buckled the other leg on the runner, and
said to him, now be nimble, and help us to win.  It was fixed that
the one who was first to bring some water from a far distant well was
to be the victor.  The runner received a pitcher, and the king's
daughter one too, and they began to run at the same time, but in an
instant, when the king's daughter had got a very little way, the
people who were looking on could see no more of the runner, and it
was just as if the wind had whistled by.  In a short time he reached
the well, filled his pitcher with water, and turned back.  Half-way
home, however, he was overcome with fatigue, and set his pitcher
down, lay down himself, and fell asleep.  But he had made a pillow of
a horse's skull which was lying on the ground, in order that he might
lie uncomfortably, and soon wake up again.  In the meantime the
king's daughter, who could also run very well - quite as well as any
ordinary mortal can - had reached the well, and was hurrying back
with her pitcher full of water, and when she saw the runner lying
there asleep, she was glad and said, my enemy is delivered over into
my hands, emptied his pitcher, and ran on.  And now all would have
been lost if by good luck the huntsman had not been standing at the
top of the castle, and had not seen everything with his sharp eyes.

Then said he, the king's daughter shall still not prevail against us.
And he loaded his gun, and shot so cleverly, that he shot the horse's
skull away from under the runner's head without hurting him.  Then
the runner awoke, leapt up, and saw that his pitcher was empty, and
that the king's daughter was already far in advance.  He did not lose
heart, however, but ran back to the well with his pitcher, again drew
some water, and was at home again even ten minutes before the king's
daughter.  Behold, said he, only now have I begun to use my legs.
What I did before did not deserve to be called running.

But it pained the king, and still more his daughter, that she should
be carried off by a common discharged soldier like that. So they took
counsel with each other how to get rid of him and his companions.
Then said the king to her, I have thought of a way.  Don't be afraid,
they shall not come back again.  And he said to them, you shall now
make merry together, and eat and drink, and he conducted them to a
room which had a floor of iron, and the doors also were of iron, and
the windows were guarded with iron bars.  There was a table in the
room covered with delicious food, and the king said to them, go in,
and enjoy yourselves.  And when they were inside, he ordered the
doors to be shut and bolted.  Then he sent for the cook, and
commanded him to make a fire under the room until the iron became
red-hot.

This the cook did, and the six who were sitting at table began to
feel quite warm, and they thought the heat was caused by the food.
But as it became still greater, and they wanted to get out, and found
that the doors and windows were bolted, they became aware that the
king must have an evil intention, and wanted to suffocate them.  He
shall not succeed, however, said the one with the cap.  I will cause
a frost to come, before which the fire shall be ashamed, and creep
away.

Then he put his cap on straight, and immediately there came such a
frost that all heat disappeared, and the food on the dishes began to
freeze.  When an hour or two had passed by, and the king believed
that they had perished in the heat, he had the doors opened to behold
them himself.  But when the doors were opened, all six were standing
there, alive and well, and said that they should very much like to
get out to warm themselves, for the very food was fast frozen to the
dishes with the cold.  Then, full of anger, the king went down to the
cook, scolded him, and asked why he had not done what he had been
ordered to do.  But the cook replied, there is heat enough there,
just look yourself. Then the king saw that a fierce fire was burning
under the iron room, and perceived that there was no getting the
better of the six in this way.

Again the king considered how to get rid of his unpleasant guests,
and caused their chief to be brought and said, if you will take gold
and renounce my daughter, you shall have as much as you will.

Oh, yes, lord king, he answered, give me as much as my servant can
carry, and I will not ask for your daughter.

On this the king was satisfied, and the other continued, in fourteen
days, I will come and fetch it.  Thereupon he summoned together all
the tailors in the whole kingdom, and they were to sit for fourteen
days and sew a sack.  And when it was ready, the strong one who could
tear up trees had to take it on his back, and go with it to the king.
Then said the king, who can that strong fellow be who is carrying a
bundle of linen on his back that is as big as a house.  And he was
alarmed and said, what a lot of gold he can carry away.  Then he
commanded a ton of gold to be brought, which took sixteen of his
strongest men to carry, but the strong one snatched it up in one
hand, put it in his sack, and said, why don't you bring more at the
same time.  That hardly covers the bottom.  Then, little by little,
the king caused all his treasure to be brought thither, and the
strong one pushed it into the sack, and still the sack was not half
full with it.  Bring more, cried he, these few crumbs don't fill it.

Then seven thousand carts with gold had to be gathered together in
the whole kingdom, and the strong one thrust them and the oxen
harnessed to them into his sack.  I will examine it no longer, said
he, but will just take what comes, so long as the sack is but full.
When all that was inside, there was still room for a great deal more.
Then he said, I will just make an end of the thing.  People do
sometimes tie up a sack even when it is not full.  So he took it on
his back, and went away with his comrades.  When the king now saw how
one single man was carrying away the entire wealth of the country, he
became enraged, and bade his horsemen mount and pursue the six, and
ordered them to take the sack away from the strong one.  Two
regiments speedily overtook the six, and called out, you are
prisoners, put down the sack with the gold, or you will be cut to
pieces.  What say you, cried the blower, that we are prisoners.

Rather than that should happen, all of you shall dance about in the
air.  And he closed one nostril, and with the other blew on the two
regiments.  Then they were driven away from each other, and carried
into the blue sky over all the mountains, one here, the other there.
One sergeant cried for mercy.  He had nine wounds, and was a brave
fellow who did not deserve ill treatment.

The blower stopped a little so that he came down without injury, and
then the blower said to him.  Now go home to your king, and tell him
he had better send some more horsemen, and I will blow them all into
the air.  When the king was informed of this he said, let the rascals
go.  There is magic in them.  Then the six conveyed the riches home,
divided it amongst them, and lived in content until their death.
The she-wolf brought into the world a young one, and invited the fox
to be godfather.  After all, he is a near relative of ours, said she,
he has a good understanding, and much talent, he can instruct my
little son, and help him forward in the world.  The fox, too,
appeared quite honest, and said, worthy mrs. Gossip, I thank you for
the honor which you are doing me, I will, however, conduct myself in
such a way that you shall be repaid for it.  He enjoyed himself at
the feast, and made merry, afterwards he said, dear mrs. Gossip, it
is our duty to take care of the child, it must have good food that it
may be strong.  I know a sheep-fold from which we might fetch a nice
morsel.  The wolf was pleased with the idea, and she went out with
the fox to the farmyard.  He pointed out the fold from afar, and
said, you will be able to creep in there without being seen, and in
the meantime I will look about on the other side to see if I can pick
up a chicken.  He, however, did not go there, but sat down at the
entrance to the forest, stretched his legs and rested.

The she-wolf crept into the stable.  A dog was lying there, and it
made such a noise that the peasants came running out, caught gossip
wolf, and poured a strong burning mixture, which had been prepared
for washing, over her skin.  At last she escaped, and dragged herself
outside.  There lay the fox, who pretended to be full of complaints,
and said, ah, dear mrs. Gossip, how ill I have fared, the peasants
have fallen on me, and have broken every limb I have, if you do not
want me to lie where I am and perish, you must carry me away.  The
she-wolf herself was only able to walk slowly, but she was in such
concern about the fox that she took him on her back, and slowly
carried him who was perfectly safe and sound to her house.  Then the
fox cried to her, farewell, dear mrs. Gossip, may the roasting you
have had do you good, laughed heartily at her, and bounded off.
There was once upon a time a queen to whom God had given no children.
Every morning she went into the garden and prayed to God in heaven to
bestow on her a son or a daughter.  Then an angel from heaven came to
her and said, be at rest, you shall have a son with the power of
wishing, so that whatsoever in the world he wishes for, that shall he
have.  Then she went to the king, and told him the joyful tidings,
and when the time was come she gave birth to a son, and the king was
filled with gladness.

Every morning she went with the child to the garden where the wild
beasts were kept, and washed herself there in a clear stream.  It
happened once when the child was a little older, that it was lying in
her arms and she fell asleep.  Then came the old cook, who knew that
the child had the power of wishing, and stole it away, and he took a
hen, and cut it in pieces, and dropped some of its blood on the
queen's apron and on her dress.  Then he carried the child away to a
secret place, where a nurse was obliged to suckle it, and he ran to
the king and accused the queen of having allowed her child to be
taken from her by the wild beasts.  When the king saw the blood on
her apron, he believed this, fell into such a passion that he ordered
a high tower to be built, in which neither sun nor moon could be
seen, and had his wife put into it, and walled up.  Here she was to
stay for seven years without meat or drink, and die of hunger.  But
God sent two angels from heaven in the shape of white doves, which
flew to her twice a day, and carried her food until the seven years
were over.

The cook, however, thought to himself, if the child has the power of
wishing, and I am here, he might very easily get me into trouble.  So
he left the palace and went to the boy, who was already big enough to
speak, and said to him, wish for a beautiful palace for yourself with
a garden, and all else that pertains to it.  Scarcely were the words
out of the boy's mouth, when everything was there that he had wished
for.  After a while the cook said to him, it is not well for you to
be so alone, wish for a pretty girl as a companion.  Then the king's
son wished for one, and she immediately stood before him, and was
more beautiful than any painter could have painted her.

The two played together, and loved each other with all their hearts,
and the old cook went out hunting like a nobleman.  The thought
occurred to him, however, that the king's son might some day wish to
be with his father, and thus bring him into great peril.  So he went
out and took the maiden aside, and said, to-night when the boy is
asleep, go to his bed and plunge this knife into his heart, and bring
me his heart and tongue, and if you do not do it, you shall lose your
life.

Thereupon he went away, and when he returned next day she had not
done it, and said, why should I shed the blood of an innocent boy who
has never harmed anyone.  The cook once more said, if you do not do
it, it shall cost you your own life.

When he had gone away, she had a little hind brought to her, and
ordered her to be killed, and took her heart and tongue, and laid
them on a plate, and when she saw the old man coming, she said to the
boy, lie down in your bed, and draw the clothes over you.  Then the
wicked wretch came in and said, where are the boy's heart and tongue.
The girl reached the plate to him, but the king's son threw off the
quilt, and said, you old sinner, why did you want to kill me.  Now
will I pronounce thy sentence.  You shall become a black poodle and
have a gold collar round your neck, and shall eat burning coals, till
the flames burst forth from your throat.  And when he had spoken
these words, the old man was changed into a poodle dog, and had a
gold collar round his neck, and the cooks were ordered to bring up
some live coals, and these he ate, until the flames broke forth from
his throat.

The king's son remained there a short while longer, and he thought of
his mother, and wondered if she were still alive.  At length he said
to the maiden, I will go home to my own country, if you will go with
me, I will provide for you.

Ah, she replied, the way is so long, and what shall I do in a strange
land where I am unknown.  As she did not seem quite willing, and as
they could not be parted from each other, he wished that she might be
changed into a beautiful pink, and took her with him.  Then he went
away to his own country, and the poodle had to run after him.

He went to the tower in which his mother was confined, and as it was
so high, he wished for a ladder which would reach up to the very top.
Then he mounted up and looked inside, and cried, beloved mother, lady
queen, are you still alive, or are you dead.  She answered, I have
just eaten, and am still satisfied, for she thought the angels were
there.  Said he, I am your dear son, whom the wild beasts were said
to have torn from your arms, but I am alive still, and will soon set
you free.

Then he descended again, and went to his father, and caused himself
to be ammounced as a strange huntsman, and asked if he could offer
him service.  The king said yes, if he was skilful and could get game
for him, he should come to him, but that deer had never taken up
their quarters in any part of the district or country.  Then the
huntsman promised to procure as much game for him as he could
possibly use at the royal table.  So he summoned all the huntsmen
together, and bade them go out into the forest with him.  And he went
with them and made them form a great circle, open at one end where he
stationed himself, and began to wish.

Two hundred deer and more came running inside the circle at once, and
the huntsmen shot them.  Then they were all placed on sixty country
carts, and driven home to the king, and for once he was able to deck
his table with game, after having had none at all for years.

Now the king felt great joy at this, and commanded that his entire
household should eat with him next day, and made a great feast. When
they were all assembled together, he said to the huntsmen, as you are
so clever, you shall sit by me.  He replied, lord king, your majesty
must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman.  But the king insisted on it,
and said, you shall sit by me, until he did it. Whilst he was sitting
there, he thought of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the
king's principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would ask
how it was faring with the queen in the tower, and if she were alive
still, or had perished.

Hardly had he formed the wish than the marshal began, and said, your
majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the queen living in the
tower.  Is she still alive, or has she died?  But the king replied,
she let my dear son be torn to pieces by wild beasts, I will not have
her named.  Then the huntsman arose and said, gracious lord father,
she is alive still, and I am her son, and I was not carried away by
wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who tore me from her
arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled her apron with the blood of a
chicken.

Thereupon he took the dog with the golden collar, and said, that is
the wretch, and caused live coals to be brought, and these the dog
was compelled to devour before the sight of all, until flames burst
forth from its throat.  On this the huntsman asked the king if he
would like to see the dog in his true shape, and wished him back into
the form of the cook, in the which he stood immediately, with his
white apron, and his knife by his side.  When the king saw him he
fell into a passion, and ordered him to be cast into the deepest
dungeon.

Then the huntsman spoke further and said, father, will you see the
maiden who brought me up so tenderly and who was afterwards to murder
me, but did not do it, though her own life depended on it.  The king
replied, yes, I would like to see her.  The son said, most gracious
father, I will show her to you in the form of a beautiful flower, and
he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought forth the pink, and
placed it on the royal table, and it was so beautiful that the king
had never seen one to equal it.  Then the son said, now will I show
her to you in her own form, and wished that she might become a
maiden, and she stood there looking so beautiful that no painter
could have made her look more so.

And the king sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the
tower, to fetch the queen and bring her to the royal table. But when
whe was led in she ate nothing, and said, the gracious and merciful
God who has supported me in the tower, will soon set me free.  She
lived three days more, and then died happily, and when she was
buried, the two white doves which had brought her food to the tower,
and were angels of heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on
her grave.  The aged king ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces,
but grief consumed the king's own heart, and he soon died.  His son
married the beautiful maiden whom he had brought with him as a flower
in his pocket, and whether they are still alive or not, is known to
God.
There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears
dull of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he
could hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth
or let it run out of his mouth.  His son and his son's wife were
disgusted at this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the
corner behind the stove, and they gave him his food in an earthenware
bowl, and not even enough of it.  And he used to look towards the
table with his eyes full of tears.

Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and it fell
to the ground and broke.  The young wife scolded him, but he said
nothing and only sighed.  Then they bought him a wooden bowl for a
few half-pence, out of which he had to eat.

They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years
old began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground.  What
are you doing there, asked the father.  I am making a little trough,
answered the child, for father and mother to eat out of when I am
big.

The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently
began to cry.  Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and
henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if
he did spill a little of anything.
A little brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while
they were thus playing, they both fell in.  A water-nixie lived down
below, who said, now I have got you, now you shall work hard for me,
and carried them off with her.  She gave the girl dirty tangled flax
to spin, and she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it,
and the boy had to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and they got
nothing to eat but dumplings as hard as stones.

Then at last the children became so impatient, that they waited until
one sunday, when the nixie was at church, and ran away.  But when
church was over, the nixie saw that the birds were flown, and
followed them with great strides.  The children saw her from afar,
and the girl threw a brush behind her which formed an immense hill of
bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes, over which the
nixie was forced to scramble with great difficulty, at last, however,
she got over.

When the children saw this, the boy threw behind him a comb which
made a great ridge with a thousand times a thousand teeth, but the
nixie managed to keep herself steady on them, and at last crossed
over.  Then the girl threw behind her a looking-glass which formed a
hill of mirrors, and was so slippery that it was impossible for the
nixie to cross it.  Then she thought, I will go home quickly and
fetch my axe, and cut the hill of glass in half.  Long before she
returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the children had
escaped to a great distance, and the water-nixie was obliged to
trundle back to her well again.

There was one upon a time a great war, and when it came to an end,
many soldiers were discharged.  Then brother lustig also received his
dismissal, and with it nothing but a small loaf of ammunition-bread,
and four kreuzers in money, with which he departed.

St. Peter, however, had placed himself in his way in the form of a
poor beggar, and when brother lustig came up, he begged alms of him.
Brother lustig replied, dear beggar-man, what am I to give you.  I
have been a soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing
but this little loaf of ammunition-bread, and four kreuzers of money.
When that is gone, I shall have to beg as well as you.  Still I will
give you something.

Thereupon he divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the apostle
one of them, and a kreuzer likewise.  St. Peter thanked him, went
onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier's way as a beggar,
but in another shape, and when he came up begged a gift of him as
before.

Brother lustig spoke as he had done before, and again gave him a
quarter of the loaf and one kreuzer.  St. Peter thanked him, and went
onwards, but for the third time placed himself in another shape as a
beggar in the road, and spoke to brother lustig. Brother lustig gave
him also the third quarter of bread and the third kreuzer.  St. Peter
thanked him, and brother lustig went onwards, and had but a quarter
of the loaf, and one kreuzer.

With that he went into an inn, ate the bread, and ordered one
kreuzer's worth of beer.  When he had had it, he journeyed onwards,
and then St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance of a discharged
soldier, met and spoke to him thus.  Good day, comrade, can you not
give me a bit of bread, and a kreuzer to get a drink.  Where am I to
procure it, answered brother lustig. I have been discharged, and I
got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four kreuzers in
money.  I met three beggars on the road, and I gave each of them a
quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer.  The last quarter I ate in the
inn, and had a drink with the last kreuzer.  Now my pockets are
empty, and if you also have nothing we can go a-begging together.

No, answered St. Peter, we need not quite do that.  I know a little
about medicine, and I will soon earn as much as I require by that.
Indeed, said brother lustig, I know nothing of that, so I must go and
beg alone.  Just come with me, said St. Peter, and if I earn
anything, you shall have half of it.

All right, said brother lustig, and they went away together. Then
they came to a peasant's house inside which they heard loud
lamentations and cries.  So they went in, and there the husband was
lying sick unto death, and very near his end, and his wife was crying
and weeping quite loudly.  Stop that howling and crying, said St.
Peter, I will make the man well again, and he took a salve out of his
pocket, and healed the sick man in a moment, so that he could get up,
and was in perfect health.

In great delight the man and his wife said, how can we reward you.
What shall we give you.  But St. Peter would take nothing, and the
more the peasant folks offered him, the more he refused.  Brother
lustig, however, nudged St. Peter, and said, take something.  Sure
enough we are in need of it.

At length the woman brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he
really must take that, but he would not. Then brother lustig gave him
a poke in the side, and said, do take it, you stupid fool.  We are in
great want of it.  Then St. Peter said at last, well, I will take the
lamb, but I won't carry it.  If you insist on having it, you must
carry it.  That is nothing, said brother lustig.  I will easily carry
it, and took it on his shoulder.

Then they departed and came to a wood, but brother lustig had begun
to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to St. Peter,
look, that's a good place, we might cook the lamb there, and eat it.
As you like, answered St. Peter, but I can't have anything to do with
the cooking.  If you will cook, there is a kettle for you, and in the
meantime I will walk about a little until it is ready.  But you must
not begin to eat until I have come back.  I will come at the right
time.  Well, go, then, said brother lustig.  I understand cookery, I
will manage it.

Then St. Peter went away, and brother lustig killed the lamb, lighted
a fire, threw the meat into the kettle, and boiled it.  When the
lamb, however, was quite ready, and the apostle peter had not come
back, brother lustig took it out of the kettle, cut it up, and found
the heart. That is said to be the best part, said he, and tasted it,
but at last he ate it all up.  At length St. Peter returned and said,
you may eat the whole of the lamb yourself, I will only have the
heart, give me that.

Then brother lustig took a knife and fork, and pretended to look
anxiously about amongst the lamb's flesh, but not to be able to find
the heart, and at last he said abruptly, there is none here.  But
where can it be, said the apostle.  I don't know, replied brother
lustig, but look, what fools we both are, to seek for the lamb's
heart, and neither of us to remember that a lamb has no heart.  Oh,
said St. Peter, that is something quite new.  Every animal has a
heart, why is a lamb to have none.  No, be assured, my brother, said
brother lustig, that a lamb has no heart.  Just consider it
seriously, and then you will see that it really has none.  Well, it
is all right, said St. Peter.  If there is no heart, then I want none
of the lamb.  You may eat it alone.

What I can't eat now, I will carry away in my knapsack, said brother
lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and put the rest in his knapsack.

They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great stream of water
to flow right across their path, and they were obliged to pass
through it.  Said St. Peter, do you go first.  No, answered brother
lustig, you must go first, and he thought, if the water is too deep I
will stay behind.  Then St. Peter strode through it, and the water
just reached to his knee. So brother lustig began to go through also,
but the water grew deeper and reached to his throat.  Then he cried,
brother, help me.

St. Peter said, then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb's
heart.  No, said he, I have not eaten it.  Then the water grew deeper
still and rose to his mouth.  Help me, brother, cried the soldier.
St. Peter said, then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb's
heart.  No, he replied, I have not eaten it.  St. Peter, however,
would not let him be drowned, but made the water sink and helped him
through it.

Then they journeyed onwards, and came to a kingdom where they heard
that the king's daughter lay sick unto death.  Hi, there, brother,
said the soldier to St. Peter, this is a chance for us.  If we can
heal her we shall be provided for, for life.

But St. Peter was not half quick enough for him.  Come, lift your
legs, my dear brother, said he, that we may get there in time.  But
St. Peter walked slower and slower, though brother lustig did all he
could to drive and push him on, and at last they heard that the
princess was dead.  Now we are done for, said brother lustig.  That
comes of your sleepy way of walking.

Just be quiet, answered St. Peter, I can do more than cure sick
people.  I can bring dead ones to life again.  Well, if you can do
that, said brother lustig, it's all right, but you should earn at
least half the kingdom for us by that.  Then they went to the royal
palace, where everyone was in great grief, but St. Peter told the
king that he would restore his daughter to life.  He was taken to
her, and said, bring me a kettle and some water, and when that was
brought, he bade everyone go out, and allowed no one to remain with
him but brother lustig.  Then he cut off all the dead girl's limbs,
and threw them in the water, lighted a fire beneath the kettle, and
boiled them.  And when the flesh had fallen away from the bones, he
took out the beautiful white bones, and laid them on a table, and
arranged them together in their natural order.  When he had done
that, he stepped forward and said three times, in the name of the
holy trinity, dead woman, arise.  And at the third time, the princess
arose, living, healthy and beautiful.

Then the king was in the greatest joy, and said to St. Peter, ask for
your reward.  Even if it were half my kingdom, I would give it.  But
St. Peter said, I want nothing for it.  Oh, you tomfool, thought
brother lustig to himself, and nudged his comrade's side, and said,
don't be so stupid. If you have no need of anything, I have.  St.
Peter, however, would have nothing, but as the king saw that the
other would very much like to have something, he ordered his
treasurer to fill brother lustig's knapsack with gold.

Then they went on their way, and when they came to a forest, St.
Peter said to brother lustig, now, we will divide the gold.  Yes, he
replied, we will.  So St. Peter divided the gold, and divided it into
three heaps.  Brother lustig thought to himself, what crazy idea has
he got in his head now.  He is making three shares, and there are
only two of us.  But St. Peter said, I have divided it exactly.
There is one share for me, one for you and one for him who ate the
lamb's heart.

Oh, I ate that, replied brother lustig, and hastily swept up the
gold.  You may trust what I say.  But how can that be true, said St.
Peter, when a lamb has no heart.  Eh, what, brother, what can you be
thinking of.  Lambs have hearts like other animals, why should only
they have none.  Well, so be it, said St. Peter, keep the gold to
yourself, but I will stay with you no longer.  I will go my way
alone.  As you like, dear brother, answered brother lustig.
Farewell.

Then St. Peter went a different road, but brother lustig thought, it
is a good thing that he has taken himself off, he is certainly a
strange saint.  Then he had money enough, but did not know how to
manage it, squandered it, gave it away, and and when some time had
gone by, once more had nothing.  Then he arrived in a certain country
where he heard that a king's daughter was dead.

Oh, ho, thought he, that may be a good thing for me.  I will bring
her to life again, and see that I am paid as I ought to be.  So he
went to the king, and offered to raise the dead girl to life again.
Now the king had heard that a discharged soldier was traveling about
and bringing dead persons to life again, and thought that brother
lustig was the man.  But as he had no confidence in him, he consulted
his councillors first, who said that he might give it a trial as his
daughter was dead.

Then brother lustig ordered water to be brought to him in a kettle,
bade every one go out, cut the limbs off, threw them in the water and
lighted a fire beneath, just as he had seen St. Peter do.  The water
began to boil, the flesh fell off, and then he took the bones out and
laid them on the table, but he did not know the order in which to lay
them, and placed them all wrong and in confusion.  Then he stood
before them and said, in the name of the most holy trinity, dead
maiden, I bid you arise, and he said this thrice, but the bones did
not stir. So he said it thrice more, but also in vain.  Confounded
girl that you are, get up, cried he, get up, or it shall be the worse
for you.

When he had said that, St. Peter suddenly appeared in his former
shape as a discharged soldier.  He entered by the window and said,
godless man, what are you doing.  How can the dead maiden arise, when
you have thrown about her bones in such confusion.  Dear brother, I
have done everything to the best of my ability, he answered.  This
once, I will help you out of your difficulty, but one thing I tell
you, and that is that if ever you undertake anything of the kind
again, it will be the worse for you, and also that you must neither
demand nor accept the smallest thing from the king for this.

Thereupon St. Peter laid the bones in their right order, said to the
maiden three times, in the name of the most holy trinity, dead
maiden, arise, and the king's daughter arose, healthy and beautiful
as before.  Then St. Peter went away again by the window, and brother
lustig was rejoiced to find that all had passed off so well, but was
very much vexed to think that after all he was not to take anything
for it.  I should just like to know, thought he, what fancy that
fellow has got in his head, for what he gives with one hand he takes
away with the other - there is no sense whatever in it.

Then the king offered brother lustig whatsoever he wished to have,
but he did not dare to take anything.  However, by hints and cunning,
he contrived to make the king order his knapsack to be filled with
gold for him, and with that he departed.  When he got out, St. Peter
was standing by the door, and said, just look what a man you are.
Did I not forbid you to take anything, and there you have your
knapsack full of gold.  How can I help that, answered brother lustig,
if people will put it in for me.  Well, I tell you this, that if ever
you set about anything of this kind again you shall suffer for it.
All right, brother, have no fear, now I have money, why should I
trouble myself with washing bones.  Faith, said St. Peter, a long
time that gold will last.  In order that after this you may never
tread in forbidden paths, I will bestow on your knapsack this
property, namely, that whatsoever you wish to have inside it, shall
be there.  Farewell, you will now never see me more.  Good-bye, said
brother lustig, and thought to himself, I am very glad that you have
taken yourself off, you strange fellow.  I shall certainly not follow
you.  But of the magical power which had been bestowed on his
knapsack, he thought no more.

Brother lustig traveled about with his money, and squandered and
wasted what he had as before.  When at last he had no more than four
kreuzers, he passed by an inn and thought, the money must go, and
ordered three kreuzers, worth of wine and one kreuzer's worth of
bread for himself.  As he was sitting there drinking, the smell of
roast goose made its way to his nose.

Brother lustig looked about and peeped, and saw that the host had two
geese roasting in the oven.  Then he remembered that his comrade had
said that whatsoever he wished to have in his knapsack should be
there, so he said, oh, ho.  I must try that with the geese.  So he
went out, and when he was outside the door, he said, I wish those two
roasted geese out of the oven and in my knapsack, and when he had
said that, he unbuckled it and looked in, and there they were inside
it.  Ah, that's right, said he, now I am a made man, and went away to
a meadow and took out the roast meat.

When he was in the midst of his meal, two journeymen came up and
looked at the second goose, which was not yet touched, with hungry
eyes.  Brother lustig thought to himself, one is enough for me, and
called the two men up and said, take the goose, and eat it to my
health.  They thanked him, and went with it to the inn, ordered
themselves a half bottle of wine and a loaf, took out the goose which
had been given them, and began to eat.

The hostess saw them and said to her husband, those two are eating a
goose.  Just look and see if it is not one of ours, out of the oven.
The landlord ran thither, and behold the oven was empty.  What, cried
he, you thievish crew, you want to eat goose as cheap as that.  Pay
for it this moment, or I will wash you well with green hazel-sap.
The two said, we are no thieves, a discharged soldier gave us the
goose, outside there in the meadow.  You shall not throw dust in my
eyes that way. The soldier was here, but he went out by the door,
like an honest fellow.  I looked after him myself.  You are the
thieves and shall pay.  But as they could not pay, he took a stick,
and cudgeled them out of the house.

Brother lustig went his way and came to a place where there was a
magnificent castle, and not far from it a wretched inn. He went to
the inn and asked for a night's lodging, but the landlord turned him
away, and said, there is no more room here, the house is full of
noble guests.  It surprises me that they should come to you and not
go to that splendid castle, said brother lustig.  Ah, indeed, replied
the host, but it is no slight matter to sleep there for a night.  No
one who has tried it so far, has ever come out of it alive.

If others have tried it, said brother lustig, I will try it too.
Leave it alone, said the host, it will cost you your neck.  It won't
kill me at once, said brother lustig, just give me the key, and some
good food and wine.  So the host gave him the key, and food and wine,
and with this brother lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his
supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on the ground,
for there was no bed.  He soon fell asleep, but during the night was
disturbed by a great noise, and when he awoke, he saw nine ugly
devils in the room, who had made a circle, and were dancing around
him.

Brother lustig said, well, dance as long as you like, but none of you
must come too close.  But the devils pressed continually nearer to
him, and almost stepped on his face with their hideous feet.  Stop,
you devils, ghosts, said he, but they behaved still worse.  Then
brother lustig grew angry, and cried, stop.  You'll soon see how I
can make you quiet, and got the leg of a chair and struck out into
the midst of them with it.  But nine devils against one soldier were
still too many, and when he struck those in front of him, the others
seized him behind by the hair, and tore it unmercifully.

Devils, crew, cried he, this is too much, but just wait.  Into my
knapsack, all nine of you.  In an instant they were in it, and then
he buckled it up and threw it into a corner.  After this all was
suddenly quiet, and brother lustig lay down again, and slept till it
was bright day.

Then came the inn-keeper, and the nobleman to whom the castle
belonged, to see how he had fared.  But when they perceived that he
was merry and well they were astonished, and asked, have the spirits
done you no harm, then.  The reason why they have not, answered
brother lustig, is because I have got the whole nine of them in my
knapsack.

You may once more inhabit your castle quite tranquilly, none of them
will ever haunt it again.  The nobleman thanked him, made him rich
presents, and begged him to remain in his service, and he would
provide for him as long as he lived.  No, replied brother lustig, I
am used to wandering about, I will travel farther.

Then he went away, and entered into a smithy, laid the knapsack,
which contained the nine devils on the anvil, and asked the smith and
his apprentices to strike it. So they smote with their great hammers
with all their strength, and the devils uttered howls which were
quite pitiable.  When he opened the knapsack after this, eight of
them were dead, but one which had been lying in a fold of it, was
still alive, slipped out, and went back again to hell.

Thereupon brother lustig traveled a long time about the world, and
those who know, can tell many a story about him.  But at last he grew
old, and thought of his end, so he went to a hermit who was known to
be a pious man, and said to him, I am tired of wandering about, and
want now to behave in such a manner that I shall enter into the
kingdom of heaven.  The hermit replied, there are two roads, one is
broad and pleasant, and leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough,
and leads to heaven.  I should be a fool, thought brother lustig, if
I were to take the narrow, rough road.

So he set out and took the broad and pleasant road, and at length
came to a great black door, which was the door of hell.  Brother
lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out to see who was there.
But when he saw brother lustig, he was terrified, for he was the very
same ninth devil who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had
escaped from it with a black eye.

So he pushed the bolt in again as quickly as he could, ran to the
highest devil, and said, there is a fellow outside with a knapsack,
who wants to come in, but as you value your lives don't allow him to
enter, or he will wish the whole of hell into his knapsack.  He once
gave me a frightful hammering when I was inside it.

So they called out to brother lustig that he was to go away again,
for he should not get in there.  If they won't have me here, thought
he, I will see if I can find a place for myself in heaven, for I must
stay somewhere.

So he turned about and went onwards until he came to the door of
heaven, where he knocked.  St. Peter was sitting hard by as
door-keeper.  Brother lustig recognized him at once, and thought,
here I find an old friend, I shall get on better.  But St. Peter
said, I can hardly believe that you want to come into heaven.  Let me
in, brother.  I must get in somewhere.  If they would have taken me
into hell, I should not have come here.  No, said St. Peter, you
shall not enter.  Then if you will not let me in, take your knapsack
back, for I will have nothing at all from you.  Give it here, then,
said St. Peter.  Then brother lustig gave him the knapsack into
heaven through the bars, and St. Peter took it, and hung it beside
his seat.  Then said brother lustig, and now I wish myself inside my
knapsack, and in a second he was in it, and in heaven, and St. Peter
was forced to let him stay there.
Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him,
master, my time is up, now I should be glad to go back home to my
mother, give me my wages.  The master answered, you have served me
faithfully and honestly, as the service was so shall the reward be.
And he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head.  Hans pulled his
handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on
his shoulder, and set out on the way home.

As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a
horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse.  Ah, said
Hans quite loud, what a fine thing it is to ride.  There you sit as
on a chair, you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and
cover the ground, you don't know how.

The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, hi, there,
Hans, why do you go on foot, then.

I must, answered he, for I have this lump to carry home, it is true
that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it
hurts my shoulder.

I will tell you what, said the rider, we will exchange, I will give
you my horse, and you can give me your lump. With all my heart, said
Hans, but I can tell you, you will have to crawl along with it.

The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up, then gave him
the bridle tight in his hands and said, if you want to go at a really
good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, jup.  Jup.

Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so
bold and free.  After a little while he thought that it ought to go
faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, jup.
Jup.  The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew
where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated
the field from the highway.  The horse would have gone off too if it
had not been stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road
and driving a cow before him.

Hans pulled himself together and stood up on his legs again, but he
was vexed, and said to the countryman, it is a poor joke, this
riding, especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks
and throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one's neck.
Never again will I mount it.  Now I like your cow, for one can walk
quietly behind her, and have, over and above, one's milk, butter and
cheese every day without fail.  What would I not give to have such a
cow.  Well, said the countryman, if it would give you so much
pleasure, I do not mind giving the cow for the horse.  Hans agreed
with the greatest delight, the countryman jumped upon the horse, and
rode quickly away.

Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky
bargain.  If only I have a morsel of bread - and that can hardly fail
me - I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like, if I am
thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk.  My goodness, what
more can I want.

When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great concern ate
up what he had with him - his dinner and supper - and all he had, and
with his last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove
his cow onwards along the road to his mother's village.

As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans
found himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross.  He
felt it very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with
thirst.  I can find a cure for this, thought Hans, I will milk the
cow now and refresh myself with the milk. He tied her to a withered
tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath, but
try as he would, not a drop of milk came.  And as he set himself to
work in a clumsy way, the impatient beast at last gave him such a
blow on his head with its hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and
for a long time could not think where he was.

By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a
wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig.  What sort of a trick is
this, cried he, and helped the good Hans up.  Hans told him what had
happened.  The butcher gave him his flask and said, take a drink and
refresh yourself.  The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old
beast, at the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.
Well, well, said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, who
would have thought it.  Certainly it is a fine thing when one can
kill a beast like that at home, what meat one has.  But I do not care
much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me.  A young pig like that
now is the thing to have, it tastes quite different, and then there
are the sausages.

Listen, Hans, said the butcher, out of love for you I will exchange,
and will let you have the pig for the cow.  Heaven repay you for your
kindness, said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was unbound
from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in his
hand.

Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as
he wished, if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set
right.  Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine
white goose under his arm.  They said good morning to each other, and
Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such
good bargains.  The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a
christening-feast.  Just lift her, added he, and laid hold of her by
the wings, how heavy she is - she has been fattened up for the last
eight weeks.  Whosoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will
have to wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth.  Yes, said Hans,
as he weighed her in one hand, she is a good weight, but my pig is no
bad one.

Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and
shook his head.  Look here, he said at length, it may not be all
right with your pig.  In the village through which I passed, the
mayor himself had just had one stolen out of its sty.  I fear - I
fear that you have got hold of it there.  They have sent out some
people and it would be a bad business if they caught you with the
pig, at the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole.

The good Hans was terrified.  Goodness, he said, help me out of this
fix, you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave
me your goose.  I shall risk something at that game, answered the
lad, but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble.  So he
took the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a
by-path.

The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under
his arm.  When I think over it properly, said he to himself, I have
even gained by the exchange.  First there is the good roast meat,
then the quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give
me dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the
beautiful white feathers.  I will have my pillow stuffed with them,
and then indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking.  How glad my
mother will be.

As he was going through the last village, there stood a
scissors-grinder with his barrow, as his wheel whirred he sang,
     I sharpen scissors and quickly grind,
     my coat blows out in the wind behind.

Hans stood still and looked at him, at last he spoke to him and said,
all's well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding. Yes,
answered the scissors-grinder, the trade has a golden foundation.  A
real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his
pocket finds gold in it.  But where did you buy that fine goose?

I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.

And the pig?

That I got for a cow.

And the cow?

I took that instead of a horse.

And the horse?

For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.

And the gold?

Well, that was my wages for seven years, service.

You have known how to look after yourself each time, said the
grinder.  If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle
in your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your
fortune.

How shall I manage that, said Hans.  You must be a grinder, as I am,
nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds
itself.  I have one here, it is certainly a little worn, but you need
not give me anything for it but your goose, will you do it?

How can you ask, answered Hans.  I shall be the luckiest fellow on
earth.  If I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, why
should I ever worry again.  And he handed him the goose and received
the grindstone in exchange.  Now, said the grinder, as he took up an
ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, here is a strong stone for you
into the bargain, you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your
old nails.  Take it with you and keep it carefully. Hans loaded
himself with the stones, and went on with a contented heart, his eyes
shining with joy.  I must have been born with a caul, he cried,
everything I want happens to me just as if I were a sunday-child.

Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to
feel tired.  Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain
by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at
once.  At last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced
to stop every minute, the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully.
Then he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to
carry them just then.

He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that
he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but
in order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid
them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down
on it, and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed
against the stones, and both of them fell into the water.  When Hans
saw them with his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy,
and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for
having shown him this favor also, and delivered him in so good a way,
and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy
stones which had been the only things that troubled him.

There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I, he cried out. With a
light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was
with his mother at home.
There was once upon a time a young peasant named Hans, whose uncle
wanted to find him a rich wife.  He therefore seated Hans behind the
stove, and had it made very hot.  Then he fetched a pot of milk and
plenty of white bread, gave him a bright newly-coined farthing in his
hand, and said, Hans, hold that farthing fast, crumble the white
bread into the milk, and stay where you are, and do not stir from
that spot till I come back.  Yes, said Hans,

I will do all that.  Then the uncle put on a pair of old patched
trousers, went to a rich peasant's daughter in the next village, and
said, won't you marry my nephew Hans.  You will get an honest and
sensible man who will suit you.  The covetous father asked, how is it
with regard to his means.  Has he bread to break?

Dear friend, replied the uncle, my young nephew has a snug berth, a
nice bit of money in hand, and plenty of bread to break, besides he
has quite as many patches as I have.  And as he spoke, he slapped the
patches on his trousers, but in that district small pieces of land
were called patches also.  If you will give yourself the trouble to
go home with me, you shall see at once that all is as I have said.
Then the miser did not want to lose this good opportunity, and said,
if that is the case, I have nothing further to say against the
marriage.

So the wedding was celebrated on the appointed day, and when the
young wife went out of doors to see the bridegroom's property, Hans
took off his sunday coat and put on his patched smock and said, I
might spoil my good coat.  Then together they went out and wherever a
vineyard came in sight, or fields and meadows were divided from each
other, Hans pointed with his finger and then slapped either a large
or a small patch on his smock, and said, that patch is mine, and that
too, my dearest, just look at it. Meaning thereby that his wife
should not stare at the broad land, but look at his garment, which
was his own.

Were you at the wedding too?  Yes, indeed I was there, and in full
dress.  My head-dress was of snow, then the sun came out, and it was
melted.  My coat was of cobwebs, and I had to pass by some thorns
which tore it off me, my shoes were of glass, and I trod on a stone
and they said, klink, and broke in two.

There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a
little cottage, and who earned their bread by fishing, and always
lived from hand to mouth.  But it came to pass one day when the man
was sitting by the water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out
a fish entirely of gold.  As he was looking at the fish, full of
astonishment, it began to speak and said, listen, fisherman, if you
will throw me back again into the water, I will change your little
hut into a splendid castle.

Then the fisherman answered, of what use is a castle to me, if I have
nothing to eat.  The gold fish continued, that shall be taken care
of, there will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when you open
it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of them
as you can desire.  If that be true, said the man, then I can well do
you a favor.  Yes, said the fish, there is, however, the condition
that you shall disclose to no one in the world, whosoever he may be,
whence your good luck has come, if you speak but one single word, all
will be over.  Then the man threw the wonderful fish back again into
the water, and went home.

But where his hovel had formerly stood, now stood a great castle. He
opened wide his eyes, entered, and saw his wife dressed in beautiful
clothes, sitting in a splendid room, and she was quite delighted, and
said, husband, how has all this come to pass.  It suits me very well.
Yes, said the man, it suits me too, but I am frightfully hungry, just
give me something to eat.  Said the wife, but I have got nothing and
don't know where to find anything in this new house.  There is no
need of your knowing, said the man, for I see yonder a great
cupboard, just unlock it. When she opened it, there stood cakes,
meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect.

Then the woman cried joyfully, what more can you want, my dear. And
they sat down, and ate and drank together.  When they had had enough,
the woman said, but husband, whence come all these riches. Alas,
answered he, do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you
anything.  If I disclose it to anyone, then all our good fortune will
disappear.  Very good, said she, if I am not to know anything, then I
do not want to know anything.  However, she was not in earnest.  She
never rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his
impatience he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful golden fish
which he had caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty.
And as soon as the secret was out, the splendid castle with the
cupboard immediately disappeared, they were once more in the old
fisherman's hut, and the man was obliged to follow his former trade
and fish.

But fortune would so have it, that he once more drew out the golden
fish.  Listen, said the fish, if you will throw me back into the
water again, I will once more give you the castle with the cupboard
full of roast and boiled meats.  Only be firm, for your life's sake
don't reveal from whom you have it, or you will lose it all again.  I
will take good care, answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back
into the water.  Now at home everything was once more in its former
magnificence, and the wife was overjoyed at their good fortune, but
curiosity left her no peace, so that after a couple of days she began
to ask again how it had come to pass, and how he had managed to
secure it.  The man kept silence for a short time, but at last she
made him so angry that he broke out, and betrayed the secret.

In an instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again in
their old hut.  Now you have got what you want, said he, and we can
gnaw at a bare bone again.  Ah, said the woman, I had rather not have
riches if I am not to know from whom they come, for then I have no
peace.

The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out
the gold fish for a third time.  Listen, said the fish, I see very
well that I am fated to fall into your hands, take me home and cut me
into six pieces.  Give your wife two of them to eat, two to your
horse and bury two of them in the ground, then they will bring you a
blessing.  The fisherman took the fish home with him, and did as it
had bidden him.  It came to pass, however, that from the two pieces
that were buried in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the
horse had two golden foals, and the fisherman's wife bore two
children who were made entirely of gold.  The children grew up,
became tall and handsome, and the lilies and horses grew likewise.
Then they said, father, we want to mount our golden steeds and travel
out in the world.  But he answered sorrowfully, how shall I bear it
if you go away, and I know not how it fares with you.  Then they
said, the two golden lilies remain here.  By them you can see how it
is with us.  If they are fresh, then we are in health.  If they are
withered, we are ill.  If they perish, then we are dead.

So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were many people, and
when they perceived the gold-children they began to laugh, and jeer.
When one of them heard the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go
out into the world, but turned back and went home again to his
father.  But the other rode forward and reached a great forest. As he
was about to enter it, the people said, it is not safe for you to
ride through, the wood is full of robbers who would treat you badly.
You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all of gold, and
your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.

But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, I must and
will ride through it.  Then he took bear-skins and covered himself
and his horse with them, so that the gold was no more to be seen, and
rode fearlessly into the forest.  When he had ridden onward a little
he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking
together.  From one side came cries of, there is one, but from the
other, let him go, 'tis a bearskin, as poor and bare as a
church-mouse, what should we gain from him.  So the gold-child rode
joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell him.

One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so
beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she
existed in the world.  And as such a mighty love took possession of
him, he went up to her and said, I love you with my whole heart, will
you be my wife.  He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed
and said, yes, I will be your wife, and be true to you my whole life
long.

Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest
happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when he saw that
his daughter's wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and
said, where is the bridegroom.  They showed him the gold-child, who,
however, still wore his bear-skins.  Then the father said wrathfully,
a bearskin shall never have my daughter.  And was about to kill him.
Then the bride begged as hard as she could, and said, he is my
husband, and I love him with all my heart.  Until at last he allowed
himself to be appeased.  Nevertheless the idea never left his
thoughts, so that next morning he rose early, wishing to see whether
his daughter's husband was a common ragged beggar.  But when he
peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in the bed, and the
cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground.  Then he went back and
thought, what a good thing it was that I restrained my anger.  I
would have committed a great crime.

But the gold-child dreamed that he rode out to hunt a splendid stag,
and when he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, I must go out
hunting.  She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, you
might easily meet with a great misfortune.  But he answered, I must
and will go.

Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest, and it was not
long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his
dream.  He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away.
He gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without
feeling tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his sight,
and when the gold-child looked round him, he was standing before a
little house, wherein sat a witch.

He knocked and a little old woman came out and asked, what are you
doing so late in the midst of the great forest.  Have you not seen a
stag. Yes, answered she, I know the stag well.  And thereupon a
little dog which had come out of the house with her, barked at the
man violently.  Will you be silent, you odious toad, said he, or I
will shoot you dead.  Then the witch cried out in a passion, what
will you slay my little dog.  And immediately transformed him, so
that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him in vain and
thought, that which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so heavily on my
heart, has come upon him.

But at home the other brother was standing by the gold-lilies, when
one of them suddenly drooped. Good heavens, said he, my brother has
met with some great misfortune I must away to see if I can possibly
rescue him.  Then the father said, stay here, if I lose you also,
what shall I do. But he answered, I must and will go forth.

Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and entered the
great forest, where his brother lay turned to stone.  The old witch
came out of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also, but
he did not go near her, and said, I will shoot you, if you will not
bring my brother to life again.  She touched the stone, though very
unwillingly, with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to
his human shape.  And the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw
each other again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away
together out of the forest the one home to his bride, and the other
to his father.

The father then said, I knew well that you had rescued your brother,
for the golden lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again. Then
they lived happily, and they prospered until their death.
There was once upon a time a man who was about to set out on a long
journey, and on parting he asked his three daughters what he should
bring back with him for them.  Whereupon the eldest wished for
pearls, the second wished for diamonds, but the third said, dear
father, I should like a singing, soaring lark.  The father said, yes,
if I can get it, you shall have it, kissed all three, and set out.

Now when the time had come for him to be on his way home again, he
had brought pearls and diamonds for the two eldest, but he had sought
everywhere in vain for a singing, soaring lark for the youngest, and
he was very unhappy about it, for she was his favorite child.  Then
his road lay through a forest, and in the midst of it was a splendid
castle, and near the castle stood a tree, but quite on the top of the
tree, he saw a singing, soaring lark.  Aha, you come just at the
right moment, he said, quite delighted, and called to his servant to
climb up and catch the little creature.

But as he approached the tree, a lion leapt from beneath it, shook
himself, and roared till the leaves on the trees trembled.  He who
tries to steal my singing, soaring lark, he cried, will I devour.
Then the man said, I did not know that the bird belonged to you.  I
will make amends for the wrong I have done and ransom myself with a
large sum of money, only spare my life.  The lion said, nothing can
save you, unless you will promise to give me for my own what first
meets you on your return home, and if you will do that, I will grant
you your life, and you shall have the bird for your daughter, into
the bargain.  But the man hesitated and said, that might be my
youngest daughter, she loves me best, and always runs to meet me on
my return home.

The servant, however, was terrified and said, why should your
daughter be the very one to meet you, it might as easily be a cat, or
dog. Then the man allowed himself to be persuaded, took the singing,
soaring lark, and promised to give the lion whatsoever should first
meet him on his return home.

When he reached home and entered his house, the first who met him was
no other than his youngest and dearest daughter, who came running up,
kissed and embraced him, and when she saw that he had brought with
him a singing, soaring lark, she was beside herself with joy.  The
father, however, could not rejoice, but began to weep, and said, my
dearest child, I have bought the little bird dear.  In return for it,
I have been obliged to promise you to a savage lion, and when he has
you he will tear you in pieces and devour you, and he told her all,
just as it had happened, and begged her not to go there, come what
might.

But she consoled him and said, dearest father, indeed your promise
must be fulfilled.  I will go thither and soften the lion, so that I
may return to you safely.  Next morning she had the road pointed out
to her, took leave, and went fearlessly out into the forest.  The
lion, however, was an enchanted prince and was by day a lion, and all
his people were lions with him, but in the night they resumed their
natural human shapes.

On her arrival she was kindly received and led into the castle.  When
night came, the lion turned into a handsome man, and their wedding
was celebrated with great magnificence.  They lived happily together,
remained awake at night, and slept in the daytime.  One day he came
and said, to-morrow there is a feast in your father's house, because
your eldest sister is to be married, and if you are inclined to go
there, my lions shall conduct you.  She said, yes, I should very much
like to see my father again, and went thither, accompanied by the
lions.

There was great joy when she arrived, for they had all believed that
she had been torn in pieces by the lion, and had long ceased to live.
But she told them what a handsome husband she had, and how well off
she was, remained with them while the wedding-feast lasted, and then
went back again to the forest.

When the second daughter was about to be married, and she was again
invited to the wedding, she said to the lion, this time I will not be
alone, you must come with me.  The lion, however, said that it was
too dangerous for him, for if when there a ray from a burning candle
fell on him, he would be changed into a dove, and for seven years
long would have to fly about with the doves.  She said, ah, but do
come with me, I will take great care of you, and guard you from all
light.  So they went away together, and took with them their little
child as well.

She had a room built there, so strong and thick that no ray could
pierce through it, in this he was to shut himself up when the candles
were lit for the wedding-feast.  But the door was made of green wood
which warped and left a little crack which no one noticed.  The
wedding was celebrated with magnificence, but when the procession
with all its candles and torches came back from church, and passed by
this apartment, a ray touched him, he was transformed in an instant,
and when she came in and looked for him, she did not see him, but a
white dove was sitting there.  The dove said to her, for seven years
must I fly about the world, but at every seventh step that you take I
will let fall a drop of red blood and a white feather, and these will
show you the way, and if you follow the trace you can release me.
Thereupon the dove flew out at the door, and she followed him, and at
every seventh step a red drop of blood and a little white feather
fell down and showed her the way.

So she went continually further and further in the wide world, never
looking about her or resting, and the seven years were almost past,
then she rejoiced and thought that they would soon be saved, and yet
they were so far from it.  Once when they were thus moving onwards,
no little feather and no drop of red blood fell, and when she raised
her eyes the dove had disappeared.  And as she thought to herself, in
this no man can help you, she climbed up to the sun, and said to him,
you shine into every crevice, and over every peak, have you not seen
a white dove flying.

No, said the sun, I have seen none, but I present you with a casket,
open it when you are in sorest need.  Then she thanked the sun, and
went on until evening came and the moon appeared, she then asked her,
you shine the whole night through, and on every field and forest,
have you not seen a white dove flying.

No, said the moon, I have seen no dove, but here I give you an egg,
break it when you are in great need.  She thanked the moon, and went
on until the night wind came up and blew on her, then she said to it,
you blow over every tree and under every leaf, have you not seen a
white dove flying.  No, said the night wind, I have seen none, but I
will ask the three other winds, perhaps they have seen it.

The east wind and the west wind came, and had seen nothing, but the
south wind said, I have seen the white dove, it has flown to the red
sea, where it has become a lion again, for the seven years are over,
and the lion is there fighting with a dragon, the dragon, however, is
an enchanted princess.  The night wind then said to her, I will
advise you, go to the red sea, on the right bank are some tall reeds,
count them, break off the eleventh, and strike the dragon with it,
then the lion will be able to subdue it, and both then will regain
their human form.  After that, look round and you will see the
griffin which is by the red sea, swing yourself, with your beloved,
on to his back, and the bird will carry you over the sea to your own
home.  Here is a nut for you, when you are above the center of the
sea, let the nut fall, it will immediately shoot up, and a tall
nut-tree will grow out of the water on which the griffin may rest,
for if he cannot rest, he will not be strong enough to carry you
across, and if you forget to throw down the nut, he will let you fall
into the sea.

Then she went thither, and found everything as the night wind had
said.  She counted the reeds by the sea, and cut off the eleventh,
struck the dragon therewith, whereupon the lion conquered it, and
immediately both of them regained their human shapes.  But when the
princess, who hitherto had been the dragon, was released from
enchantment, she took the youth by the arm, seated herself on the
griffin, and carried him off with her.

There stood the poor maiden who had wandered so far and was again
forsaken.  She sat down and cried, but at last she took courage and
said, still I will go as far as the wind blows and as long as the
cock crows, until I find him, and she went forth by long, long roads,
until at last she came to the castle where both of them were living
together, there she heard that soon a feast was to be held, in which
they would celebrate their wedding, but she said, God still helps me,
and opened the casket that the sun had given her.  A dress lay
therein as brilliant as the sun itself.  So she took it out and put
it on, and went up into the castle, and everyone, even the bride
herself, looked at her with astonishment.

The dress pleased the bride so well that she thought it might do for
her wedding-dress, and asked if it was for sale.  Not for money or
land, answered she, but for flesh and blood.  The bride asked her
what she meant by that, so she said, let me sleep a night in the
chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.  The bride would not, yet wanted
very much to have the dress, at last she consented, but the page was
to give the prince a sleeping-draught.

When it was night, therefore, and the youth was already asleep, she
was led into the chamber, she seated herself on the bed and said, I
have followed after you for seven years.  I have been to the sun and
the moon, and the four winds, and have enquired for you, and have
helped you against the dragon, will you, then quite forget me.  But
the prince slept so soundly that it only seemed to him as if the wind
were whistling outside in the fir-trees.

When therefore day broke, she was led out again, and had to give up
the golden dress.  And as that even had been of no avail, she was
sad, went out into a meadow, sat down there, and wept.  While she was
sitting there, she thought of the egg which the moon had given her,
she opened it, and there came out a clucking hen with twelve chickens
all of gold, and they ran about chirping, and crept again under the
old hen's wings, nothing more beautiful was ever seen in the world.
Then she arose, and drove them through the meadow before her, until
the bride looked out of the window.

The little chickens pleased her so much that she immediately came
down and asked if they were for sale.  Not for money or land, but for
flesh and blood, let me sleep another night in the chamber where the
bridegroom sleeps.  The bride said, yes, intending to cheat her as on
the former evening.  But when the prince went to bed he asked the
page what the murmuring and rustling in the night had been.  On this
the page told all, that he had been forced to give him a
sleeping-draught, because a poor girl had slept secretly in the
chamber, and that he was to give him another that night.  The prince
said, pour out the draught by the bed-side.

At night, she was again led in, and when she began to relate how ill
all had fared with her, he immediately recognized his beloved wife by
her voice, sprang up and cried, now I really am released.  I have
been as it were in a dream, for the strange princess has bewitched me
so that I have been compelled to forget you, but God has delivered me
from the spell at the right time.

Then they both left the castle secretly in the night, for they feared
the father of the princess, who was a sorcerer, and they seated
themselves on the griffin which bore them across the red sea, and
when they were in the midst of it, she let fall the nut.  Immediately
a tall nut-tree grew up, whereon the bird rested, and then carried
them home, where they found their child, who had grown tall and
beautiful, and they lived thenceforth happily until their death.
There was once upon a time an old queen whose husband had been dead
for many years, and she had a beautiful daughter.  When the princess
grew up she was betrothed to a prince who lived at a great distance.
When the time came for her to be married, and she had to journey
forth into the distant kingdom, the aged queen packed up for her many
costly vessels of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and
silver, and cups and jewels, in short, everything which appertained
to a royal dowry, for she loved her child with all her heart.

She likewise sent her maid-in-waiting, who was to ride with her, and
hand her over to the bridegroom, and each had a horse for the
journey, but the horse of the king's daughter was called falada, and
could speak.  So when the hour of parting had come, the aged mother
went into her bedroom, took a small knife and cut her finger with it
until it bled.  Then she held a white handkerchief to it into which
she let three drops of blood fall, gave it to her daughter and said,
dear child, preserve this carefully, it will be of service to you on
your way.

So they took a sorrowful leave of each other, the princess put the
piece of cloth in her bosom, mounted her horse, and then went away to
her bridegroom.  After she had ridden for a while she felt a burning
thirst, and said to her waiting-maid, dismount, and take my cup which
you have brought with you for me, and get me some water from the
stream, for I should like to drink.  If you are thirsty, said the
waiting-maid, get off your horse yourself, and lie down and drink out
of the water, I don't choose to be your servant.

So in her great thirst the princess alighted, bent down over the
water in the stream and drank, and was not allowed to drink out of
the golden cup.  Then she said, ah, heaven, and the three drops of
blood answered, if this your mother knew, her heart would break in
two.  But the king's daughter was humble, said nothing, and mounted
her horse again.

She rode some miles further, but the day was warm, the sun scorched
her, and she was thirsty once more, and when they came to a stream of
water, she again cried to her waiting-maid, dismount, and give me
some water in my golden cup, for she had long ago forgotten the
girl's ill words.  But the waiting-maid said still more haughtily, if
you wish to drink, get it yourself, I don't choose to be your maid.
Then in her great thirst the king's daughter alighted, bent over the
flowing stream, wept and said, ah, heaven, and the drops of blood
again replied, if this your mother knew, her heart would break in
two.

And as she was thus drinking and leaning right over the stream, the
handkerchief with the three drops of blood fell out of her bosom, and
floated away with the water without her observing it, so great was
her trouble.  The waiting-maid, however, had seen it, and she
rejoiced to think that she had now power over the bride, for since
the princess had lost the drops of blood, she had become weak and
powerless.

So now when she wanted to mount her horse again, the one that was
called falada, the waiting-maid said, falada is more suitable for me,
and my nag will do for you, and the princess had to be content with
that.  Then the waiting-maid, with many hard words, bade the princess
exchange her royal apparel for her own shabby clothes, and at length
she was compelled to swear by the clear sky above her, that she would
not say one word of this to anyone at the royal court, and if she had
not taken this oath she would have been killed on the spot.  But
falada saw all this, and observed it well.

The waiting-maid now mounted falada, and the true bride the bad
horse, and thus they traveled onwards, until at length they entered
the royal palace.  There were great rejoicings over her arrival, and
the prince sprang forward to meet her, lifted the waiting-maid from
her horse, and thought she was his consort.

She was conducted upstairs, but the real princess was left standing
below.  Then the old king looked out of the window and saw her
standing in the courtyard, and noticed how dainty and delicate and
beautiful she was, and instantly went to the royal apartment, and
asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was standing down
below in the courtyard, and who she was.  I picked her up on my way
for a companion, give the girl something to work at, that she may not
stand idle.

But the old king had no work for her, and knew of none, so he said, I
have a little boy who tends the geese, she may help him.  The boy was
called conrad, and the true bride had to help him to tend the geese.
Soon afterwards the false bride said to the young king, dearest
husband, I beg you to do me a favor.  He answered, I will do so most
willingly.  Then send for the knacker, and have the head of the horse
on which I rode here cut off, for it vexed me on the way. In reality,
she was afraid that the horse might tell how she had behaved to the
king's daughter.

Then she succeeded in making the king promise that it should be done,
and the faithful falada was to die, this came to the ears of the real
princess, and she secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of
gold if he would perform a small service for her.  There was a great
dark-looking gateway in the town, through which morning and evening
she had to pass with the geese, would he be so goood as to nail up
falada's head on it, so that she might see him again, more than once.
The knacker's man promised to do that, and cut off the head, and
nailed it fast beneath the dark gateway.

Early in the morning, when she and conrad drove out their flock
beneath this gateway, she said in passing,
          alas, falada, hanging there.

Then the head answered,
          alas, young queen, how ill you fare.
          If this your mother knew,
          her heart would break in two.

Then they went still further out of the town, and drove their geese
into the country.  And when they had come to the meadow, she sat down
and unbound her hair which was like pure gold, and conrad saw it and
delighted in its brightness, and wanted to pluck out a few hairs.
Then she said,
          blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
          blow conrad's little hat away,
          and make him chase it here and there,
          until I have braided all my hair,
          and bound it up again.

And there came such a violent wind that it blew conrad's hat far away
across country, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back
she had finished combing her hair and was putting it up again, and he
could not get any of it.  Then conrad was angry, and would not speak
to her, and thus they watched the geese until the evening, and then
they went home. Next day when they were driving the geese out through
the dark gateway, the maiden said,
          alas, falada, hanging there.

Falada answered,
          alas, young queen, how ill you fare.
          If this your mother knew,
          her heart would break in two.

And she sat down again in the field and began to comb out her hair,
and conrad ran and tried to clutch it, so she said in haste,
          blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
          blow conrad's little hat away,
          and make him chase it here and there,
          until I have braided all my hair,
          and bound it up again.

Then the wind blew, and blew his little hat off his head and far
away, and conrad was forced to run after it, and when he came back,
her hair had been put up a long time, and he could get none of it,
and so they looked after their geese till evening came.

But in the evening after they had got home, conrad went to the old
king, and said, I won't tend the geese with that girl any longer.
Why not, inquired the aged king.  Oh, because she vexes me the whole
day long.  Then the aged king commanded him to relate what it was
that she did to him.  And conrad said, in the morning when we pass
beneath the dark gateway with the block, there is a horse's head on
the wall, and she says to it,
          alas, falada, hanging there.

And the head replies,
          alas, young queen how ill you fare.
          If this your mother knew,
          her heart would break in two.

And conrad went on to relate what happened on the goose pasture, and
how when there he had to chase his hat.

The aged king commanded him to drive his block out again next day,
and as soon as morning came, he placed himself behind the dark
gateway, and heard how the maiden spoke to the head of falada, and
then he too went into the country, and hid himself in the thicket in
the meadow.  There he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and
the goose-boy bringing their flock, and how after a while she sat
down and unplaited her hair, which shone with radiance.  And soon she
said,
          blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,
          blow conrad's little hat away,
          and make him chase it here and there,
          until I have braided all my hair,
          and bound it up again.

Then came a blast of wind and carried off conrad's hat, so that he
had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and
plaiting her hair, all of which the king observed.  Then, quite
unseen, he went away, and when the goose-girl came home in the
evening, he called her aside, and asked why she did all these things.
I may not tell that, and I dare not lament my sorrows to any human
being, for I have sworn not to do so by the heaven which is above me,
if I had not done that, I should have lost my life.

He urged her and left her no peace, but he could draw nothing from
her.  Then said he, if you will not tell me anything, tell your
sorrows to the iron-stove there, and he went away.  Then she crept
into the iron-stove, and began to weep and lament, and emptied her
whole heart, and said, here am I deserted by the whole world, and yet
I am a king's daughter, and a false waiting-maid has by force brought
me to such a pass that I have been compelled to put off my royal
apparel, and she has taken my place with my bridegroom, and I have to
perform menial service as a goose-girl if this my mother knew, her
heart would break in two.

The aged king, however, was standing outside by the pipe of the
stove, and was listening to what she said, and heard it. Then he came
back again, and bade her come out of the stove. And royal garments
were placed on her, and it was marvellous how beautiful she was.  The
aged king summoned his son, and revealed to him that he had got the
false bride who was only a waiting-maid, but that the true one was
standing there, as the former goose-girl.  The young king rejoiced
with all his heart when he saw her beauty and youth, and a great
feast was made ready to which all the people and all good friends
were invited.

At the head of the table sat the bridegroom with the king's daughter
at one side of him, and the waiting-maid on the other, but the
waiting-maid was blinded, and did not recognize the princess in her
dazzling array.  When they had eaten and drunk, and were merry, the
aged king asked the waiting-maid as a riddle, what punishment a
person deserved who had behaved in such and such a way to her master,
and at the same time related the whole story, and asked what sentence
such a person merited.  Then the false bride said, she deserves no
better fate than to be stripped entirely naked, and put in a barrel
which is studded inside with pointed nails, and two white horses
should be harnessed to it, which will drag her along through one
street after another, till she is dead.

It is you, said the aged king, and you have pronounced your own
sentence, and thus shall it be done unto you.  And when the sentence
had been carried out, the young king married his true bride, and both
of them reigned over their kingdom in peace and happiness.

Once upon a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb,
and did not become any bigger, and during several years did not grow
one hair's breadth.  Once when the father was going out to plough,
the little one said, father, I will go out with you. You would go out
with me, said the father.  Stay here, you will be of no use out
there, besides you might get lost.  Then thumbling began to cry, and
for the sake of peace his father put him in his pocket, and took him
with him.

When he was outside in the field, he took him out again, and set him
in a freshly cut furrow.  Whilst he sat there, a great giant came
over the hill.  Do you see that great bogie, said the father, for he
wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him behave well, he is
coming to fetch you.  The giant, however, had scarcely taken two
steps with his long legs before he was in the furrow.

He took up little thumbling carefully with two fingers, examined him,
and without saying one word went away with him. His father stood by,
but could not utter a sound for terror, and he thought nothing else
but that his child was lost, and that as long as he lived he should
never set eyes on him again.

But the giant carried him home, let him suckle at his breast, and
thumbling grew and became tall and strong after the manner of giants.
When two years had passed, the old giant took him into the forest,
wanted to test him, and said, pull up a stick for yourself.  Then the
boy was already so strong that he tore up a young tree out of the
earth by the roots.  But the giant thought, we must do better than
that, took him back again, and suckled him two years longer.  When he
tested him, his strength had increased so much that he could tear an
old tree out of the ground.

That was still not enough for the giant, he again suckled him for two
years, and when he then went with him into the forest and said, now
just tear up a real stick, the boy tore up the biggest oak-tree from
the earth, so that it cracked, and that was a mere trifle to him.
Now that will do, said the giant, you are perfect.  And took him back
to the field from whence he had brought him.  His father was there
following the plough.  The young giant went up to him, and said, does
my father see what a fine man his son has grown into.

The farmer was alarmed, and said, no, you are not my son.  I don't
want you - leave me.  Truly I am your son, allow me to do your work,
I can plough as well as you, nay better.  No, no, you are not my son,
and you can not plough - go away.  However, as he was afraid of this
great man, he let go of the plough, stepped back and sat down at the
side of the land.  Then the youth took the plough, and just grasped
it with one hand, but his pressure was so strong that the plough went
deep into the earth.

The farmer could not bear to see that, and called to him, if you are
determined to plough, you must not press so hard on it, that makes
bad work.  The youth, however, unharnessed the horses, and drew the
plough himself, saying, just go home, father, and bid my mother make
ready a large dish of food, and in the meantime I will go over the
field.  Then the farmer went home, and ordered his wife to prepare
the food, but the youth ploughed the field which was two acres large,
quite alone, and then he harnessed himself to the harrow, and
harrowed the whole of the land, using two harrows at once.  When he
had done it, he went into the forest, and pulled up two oak-trees,
laid them across his shoulders, and hung on them one harrow behind
and one before, and also one horse behind and one before, and carried
all as if it had been a bundle of straw, to his parents, house.

When he entered the yard, his mother did not recognize him, and
asked, who is that horrible tall man.  The father said, that is our
son.  She said, no that cannot be our son, we never had such a tall
one, ours was a little thing.  She called to him, go away, we do not
want you.  The youth was silent, but led his horses to the stable,
gave them some oats and hay, and all that they wanted.  When he had
done this, he went into the parlor, sat down on the bench and said,
mother, now I should like something to eat, will it soon be ready?
She said, yes, and brought in two immense dishes full of food, which
would have been enough to satisfy herself and her husband for a week.
The youth, however, ate the whole of it himself, and asked if she had
nothing more to set before him.  No, she replied, that is all we
have.  But that was only a taste, I must have more.

She did not dare to oppose him, and went and put a huge pig's trough
full of food on the fire, and when it was ready, carried it in.  At
length come a few crumbs, said he, and gobbled all there was, but it
was still not sufficient to appease his hunger.  Then said he,
father, I see well that with you I shall never have food enough, if
you will get me an iron staff which is strong, and which I cannot
break against my knees, I will go out into the world.  The farmer was
glad, put his two horses in his cart, and fetched from the smith a
staff so large and thick, that the two horses could only just bring
it away.

The youth laid it across his knees, and snap, he broke it in two in
the middle like a bean-stalk, and threw it away. The father then
harnessed four horses, and brought a bar which was so long and thick,
that the four horses could only just drag it.  The son snapped this
also in twain against his knees, threw it away, and said, father,
this can be of no use to me, you must harness more horses, and bring
a stronger staff.  So the father harnessed eight horses, and brought
one which was so long and thick, that the eight horses could only
just carry it. When the son took it in his hand, he immediately
snapped off the end of it, and said, father, I see that you will not
be able to procure me any such staff as I want, I will remain no
longer with you.

So he went away, and gave out that he was a smith's apprentice. He
arrived at a village, wherein lived a smith who was a stingy fellow,
who never did a kindness to any one, but wanted everything for
himself.  The youth went into the smithy and asked if he needed a
journeyman.  Yes, said the smith, and looked at him, and thought,
that is a strong fellow who will strike out well, and earn his bread.
So he asked, how much wages do you want.

I don't want any at all, he replied, only every fortnight, when the
other journeymen are paid, I will give you two blows, and you must
bear them.  The miser was heartily satisfied, and thought he would
thus save much money.  Next morning, the strange journeyman was to
begin to work, but when the master brought the glowing bar, and the
youth struck his first blow, the iron flew asunder, and the anvil
sank so deep into the earth, that there was no bringing it out again.
Then the miser grew angry, and said, oh, but I can't make any use of
you, you strike far too powerfully.  How much will you have for the
one blow.

Then said he, I will give you only quite a small blow, that's all.
And he raised his foot, and gave him such a kick that he flew away
over four loads of hay.  Then he sought out the thickest iron bar in
the smithy for himself, took it as a stick in his hand and went
onwards.

When he had walked for some time, he came to a small farm, and asked
the bailiff if he did not require a head-man.  Yes, said the bailiff,
I can make use of one.  You look a capable fellow who can do
something, how much a year do you want as wages.  He again replied
that he wanted no wages at all, but that every year he would give him
three blows, which he must bear.  Then the bailiff was satisfied, for
he, too, was a covetous fellow.  Next morning all the servants were
to go into the wood, and the others were already up, but the head-man
was still in bed.  Then one of them called to him, get up, it is
time, we are going into the wood, and you must go with us.  Ah, said
he quite roughly and surlily, you may just go, then, I shall be back
again before any of you.  Then the others went to the bailiff, and
told him that the head-man was still lying in bed, and would not go
into the wood with them.  The bailiff said they were to awaken him
again, and tell him to harness the horses.  The head-man, however,
said as before, just go there, I shall be back again before any of
you.  And then he stayed in bed two hours longer.  At length he arose
from the feathers, but first he got himself two bushels of peas from
the loft, made himself some broth, ate it at his leisure, and when
that was done, went and harnessed the horses, and drove into the
wood.

Not far from the wood was a ravine through which he had to pass, so
he first drove the horses on, and then stopped them, and went behind
the cart, took trees and brushwood, and made a great barricade, so
that no horse could get through.  When he was entering the wood, the
others were just driving out of it with their loaded carts to go
home.  Then said he to them, drive on, I will still get home before
you do.  He did not drive far into the wood, but at once tore two of
the very largest trees of all out of the earth, threw them on his
cart, and turned round.  When he came to the barricade, the others
were still standing there, not able to get through.  Don't you see,
said he, that if you had stayed with me, you would have got home just
as quickly, and would have had another hour's sleep.  He now wanted
to drive on, but his horeses could not work their way through, so he
unharnessed them, laid them on the top of the cart, took the shafts
in his own hands, and pulled it all through, and he did this just as
easily as if it had been laden with feathers. When he was over, he
said to the others, there, you see, I have got over quicker than you.
And drove on, and the others had to stay where they were.  In the
yard, however, he took a tree in his hand, showed it to the bailiff,
and said, isn't that a fine cord of wood.

Then said the bailiff to his wife, the servant is a good one - even
if he does sleep long, he is still home before the others.  So he
served the bailiff for a year, and when that was over, and the other
servants were getting their wages, he said it was time for him to
take his too.  The bailiff, however, was afraid of the blows which he
was to receive, and earnestly entreated him to excuse him from having
them, for rather than that, he himself would be head-man, and the
youth should be bailiff.  No said he, I will not be a bailiff, I am
head-man, and will remain so, but I will administer that which we
agreed on.  The bailiff was willing to give him whatsoever he
demanded, but it was of no use, the head-man said no to everything.

Then the bailiff did not know what to do, and begged for a
fortnight's delay, for he wanted to find some way of escape. The
head-man consented to this delay.  The bailiff summoned all his
clerks together, and they were to think the matter over, and give him
advice.  The clerks pondered for a long time, but at last they said
that no one was sure of his life with head-man, for he could kill a
man as easily as a midge, and that the bailiff ought to make him get
into the well and clean it, and when he was down below, they would
roll up one of the mill-stones which was lying there, and throw it on
his head, and then he would never return to daylight.

The advice pleased the bailiff, and the head-man was quite willing to
go down the well.  When he was standing down below at the bottom,
they rolled down the largest mill-stone and thought they had broken
his skull, but he cried, chase away those hens from the well, they
are scratching in the sand up there, and throwing the grains into my
eyes, so that I can't see.  So the bailiff cried, sh-sh, - and
pretended to frighten the hens away.  When the head-man had finished
his work, he climbed up and said, just look what a beautiful neck-tie
I have on.  And behold it was the mill-stone which he was wearing
round his neck.

The head-man now wanted to take his reward, but the bailiff again
begged for a fortnight's delay.  The clerks met together and advised
him to send the head-man to the haunted mill to grind corn by night,
for from thence as yet no man had ever returned in the morning alive.

The proposal pleased the bailiff, he called the head-man that very
evening, and ordered him to take eight bushels of corn to the mill,
and grind it that night, for it was wanted.  So the head-man went to
the loft, and put two bushels in his right pocket, and two in his
left, and took four in a wallet, half on his back, and half on his
breast, and thus laden went to the haunted mill.  The miller told him
that he could grind there very well by day, but not by night, for the
mill was haunted, and that up to the present time whosoever had gone
into it at night had been found in the morning lying dead inside.  He
said, I will manage it, just you go and put your head on the pillow.

Then he went into the mill, and poured out the corn.  About eleven
o'clock he went into the miller's room, and sat down on the bench.
When he had sat there a while, a door suddenly opened, and a large
table came in, and on the table, wine and roasted meats placed
themselves, and much good food besides, but everything came of
itself, for no one was there to carry it.

After this the chairs pushed themselves up, but no people came, until
all at once he beheld fingers, which handled knives and forks, and
laid food on the plates, but with this exception he saw nothing.  As
he was hungry, and saw the food, he, too, place himself at the table,
ate with those who were eating and enjoyed it.  When he had had
enough, and the others also had quite emptied their dishes, he
distinctly heard all the candles being suddenly snuffed out, and as
it was now pitch dark, he felt something like a box on the ear.  Then
he said, if anything of that kind comes again, I shall strike out in
return.  And when he had received a second box on the ear, he, too
struck out.

And so it continued the whole night.  He took nothing without
returning it, but repaid everything with interest, and did not slay
about him in vain.  At daybreak, however, everything ceased.  When
the miller had got up, he wanted to look after him, and wondered if
he were still alive.  Then the youth said, I have given some in
return.  The miller rejoiced, and said that the mill was now released
from the spell, and wanted to give him much money as a reward.  But
he said, money, I will not have, I have enough of it.  So he took his
meal on his back, went home, and told the bailiff that he had done
what he had been told to do, and would now have the reward agreed on.

When the bailiff heard that, he was seriously alarmed and quite
beside himself.  He walked to and fro in the room, and drops of sweat
ran down from his forehead.  Then he opened the window to get some
fresh air, but before he was aware, the head-man had given him such a
kick that he flew through the window out into the air, and so far
away that no one ever saw him again.

Then said the head-man to the bailiff's wife, if he does not come
back, you must take the other blow.  She cried, no, no I cannot bear
it.  And opened the other window, because drops of sweat were running
down her forehead.  Then he gave her such a kick that she, too, flew
out, and as she was lighter she went much higher than her husband.
Her husband cried, do come to me, but she replied, come you to me, I
cannot come to you.

And they hovered about there in the air, and could not get to each
other, and whether they are still hovering about or not, I do not
know, but the young giant took up his iron bar, and went on his way.
There was once upon a time a rich king who had three daughters, who
daily went to walk in the palace garden, and the king was a great
lover of all kinds of fine trees, but there was one for which he had
such an affection, that if anyone gathered an apple from it he wished
him a hundred fathoms underground.  And when harvest time came, the
apples on this tree were all as red as blood.  The three daughters
went every day beneath the tree, and looked to see if the wind had
not blown down an apple, but they never by any chance found one, and
the tree was so loaded with them that it was almost breaking, and the
branches hung down to the ground.

Then the king's youngest child had a great desire for an apple, and
said to her sisters, our father loves us far too much to wish us
underground, it is my belief that he would only do that to people who
were strangers.  And while she was speaking, the child plucked off
quite a large apple, and ran to her sisters, saying, just taste, my
dear little sisters, for never in my life have I tasted anything so
delightful.  Then the two other sisters also ate some of the apple,
whereupon all three sank deep down into the earth, where they could
hear no cock crow.

When mid-day came, the king wished to call them to come to dinner,
but they were nowhere to be found.  He sought them everywhere in the
palace and garden, but could not find them. Then he was much
troubled, and made known to the whole land that whosoever brought his
daughters back again should have one of them to wife. Hereupon so
many young men went about the country in search, that there was no
counting them, for everyone loved the three children because they
were so kind to all, and so fair of face.

Three young huntsmen also went out, and when they had traveled about
for eight days, they arrived at a great castle, in which were
beautiful apartments, and in one room a table was laid on which were
delicate dishes which were still so warm that they were smoking, but
in the whole of the castle no human being was either to be seen or
heard.  They waited there for half a day, and the food still remained
warm and smoking, and at length they were so hungry that they sat
down and ate, and agreed with each other that they would stay and
live in that castle, and that one of them, who should be chosen by
casting lots, should remain in the house, and the two others seek the
king's daughters.

They cast lots, and the lot fell on the eldest, so next day the two
younger went out to seek, and the eldest had to stay home.  At
mid-day came a small, small mannikin and begged for a piece of bread,
then the huntsman took the bread which he had found there, and cut a
round off the loaf and was about to give it to him, but while he was
giving it to the mannikin, the latter let it fall, and asked the
huntsman to be so good as to give him that piece again.  The huntsman
was about to do so and stooped, on which the mannikin took a stick,
seized him by the hair, and gave him a good beating.

Next day, the second stayed at home, and he fared no better. When the
two others returned in the evening, the eldest said, well, how have
you got on? Oh, very badly, said he, and then they lamented their
misfortune together, but they said nothing about it to the youngest,
for they did not like him at all, and always called him stupid Hans,
because he did not know the ways of the world.

On the third day, the youngest stayed at home, and again the little
mannikin came and begged for a piece of bread.  When the youth gave
it to him, the elf let it fall as before, and asked him to be so good
as to give him that piece again.  Then said Hans to the little
mannikin, what, can you not pick up that piece yourself?  If you will
not take as much trouble as that for your daily bread, you do not
deserve to have it.  Then the mannikin grew very angry and said he
was to do it, but the huntsman would not, and took my dear mannikin,
and gave him a thorough beating.  Then the mannikin screamed
terribly, and cried, stop, stop, and let me go, and I will tell you
where the king's daughters are. 

When Hans heard that, he left off beating him and the mannikin told
him that he was a gnome, and that there were more than a thousand
like him, and that if he would go with him he would show him where
the king's daughters were.  Then he showed him a deep well, but there
was no water in it.  And the elf said that he knew well that the
companions Hans had with him did not intend to deal honorably with
him, therefore if he wished to deliver the king's children, he must
do it alone.

The two other brothers would also be very glad to recover the king's
daughters, but they did not want to have any trouble or danger.  Hans
was therefore to take a large basket, and he must seat himself in it
with his hunting knife and a bell, and be let down.  Below are three
rooms, and in each of them was a princess, who was lousing a dragon
with many heads, which he must cut off.  And having said all this,
the elf vanished.

When it was evening the two brothers came and asked how he had got
on, and he said, pretty well so far, and that he had seen no one
except at mid-day when a little mannikin had come and begged for a
piece of bread, that he had given some to him, but that the mannikin
had let it fall and had asked him to pick it up again, but as he did
not choose to do that, the elf had begun to scold, and that he had
lost his temper, and had given the elf a beating, at which he had
told him where the king's daughters were. Then the two were so angry
at this that they grew green and yellow.

Next morning they went to the well together, and drew lots who should
first seat himself in the basket, and again the lot fell on the
eldest, and he was to seat himself in it, and take the bell with him.
Then he said, if I ring, you must draw me up again immediately.  When
he had gone down for a short distance, he rang, and they at once drew
him up again.  Then the second seated himself in the basket, but he
did just the same as the first, and then it was the turn of the
youngest, but he let himself be lowered quite to the bottom.

When he had got out of the basket, he took his knife, and went and
stood outside the first door and listened, and heard the dragon
snoring quite loudly.  He opened the door slowly, and one of the
princesses was sitting there, and had nine dragon's heads lying upon
her lap, and was lousing them.  Then he took his knife and hewed at
them, and the nine fell off.  The princess sprang up, threw her arms
round his neck, embraced and kissed him repeatedly, and took her
stomacher, which was made of pure gold, and hung it round his neck.

Then he went to the second princess, who had a dragon with five heads
to louse, and delivered her also, and to the youngest, who had a
dragon with four heads, he went likewise.  And they all rejoiced, and
embraced him and kissed him without stopping.  Then he rang very
loud, so that those above heard him, and he placed the princesses one
after the other in the basket, and had them all drawn up, but when it
came to his own turn he remembered the words of the elf, who had told
him that his comrades did not mean well by him.  So he took a great
stone which was lying there, and placed it in the basket, and when it
was about half way up, his false brothers above cut the rope, so that
the basket with the stone fell to the ground, and they thought that
he was dead, and ran away with the three princesses, making them
promise to tell their father that it was they who had delivered them.
Then they went to the king, and each demanded a princess in marriage.

In the meantime the youngest huntsman was wandering about the three
chambers in great trouble, fully expecting to have to end his days
there, when he saw, hanging on the wall, a flute, then said he, why
do you hang there.  No one can be merry here.

He looked at the dragons, heads likewise and said, you too cannot
help me now.  He walked to and fro for such a long time that he made
the surface of the ground quite smooth.  But at last other thoughts
came to his mind, and he took the flute from the wall, and played a
few notes on it, and suddenly a number of elves appeared, and with
every note that he sounded one more came.  Then he played until the
room was entirely filled.

They all asked what he desired, so he said he wished to get above
ground back to daylight, on which they seized him by every hair that
grew on his head, and thus they flew with him onto the earth again.
When he was above ground, he at once went to the king's palace, just
as the wedding of one princess was about to be celebrated, and he
went to the room where the king and his three daughters were.  When
the princesses saw him they fainted.

Hereupon the king was angry, and ordered him to be put in prison at
once, because he thought he must have done some injury to the
children.  When the princesses came to themselves, however, they
entreated the king to set him free again.

The king asked why, and they said that they were not allowed to tell
that, but their father said that they were to tell it to the stove.
And he went out, listened at the door, and heard everything.  Then he
caused the two brothers to be hanged on the gallows, and to the third
he gave his youngest daughter, and on that occasion I wore a pair of
glass shoes, and I struck them against a stone, and they said, klink,
and were broken.
There was a certain merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl,
they were both young, and could not walk.  And two richly-laden ships
of his sailed forth to sea with all his property on board, and just
as he was expecting to win much money by them, news came that they
had gone to the bottom, and now instead of being a rich man he was a
poor one, and had nothing left but one field outside the town.  In
order to drive his misfortune a little out of his thoughts, he went
out to this field, and as he was walking to and fro in it, a little
black mannikin stood suddenly by his side, and asked why he was so
sad, and what he was taking so much to heart.

Then said the merchant, if you could help me I would willingly tell
you.  Who knows, replied the black dwarf.  Perhaps, I can help you.
Then the merchant told him that all he possessed had gone to the
bottom of the sea, and that he had nothing left but this field.  Do
not trouble yourself, said the dwarf.  If you will promise to give me
the first thing that rubs itself against your leg when you are at
home again, and to bring it here to this place in twelve years, time,
you shall have as much money as you will. The merchant thought, what
can that be but my dog, and did not remember his little boy, so he
said yes, gave the black man a written and sealed promise, and went
home.

When he reached home, his little boy was so delighted that he held
himself by a bench, trotted up to him and seized him fast by the
legs.  The father was shocked, for he remembered his promise, and now
knew what he had pledged himself to do, as however, he still found no
money in his chest, he thought the dwarf had only been jesting.  A
month afterwards he went up to the garret, intending to gather
together some old tin and to sell it, and saw lying there a great
heap of money.  Then he was happy again, made purchases, became a
greater merchant than before, and felt that God was good to him.  In
the meantime the boy grew tall, and at the same time bright and
clever.  But the nearer the twelfth year approached the more anxious
grew the merchant, so that his distress might be seen in his face.
One day his son asked what ailed him, but the father would not say.
The boy, however, persisted so long, that at last he told him that
without being aware of what he was doing, he had promised him to a
black dwarf, and had received much money for doing so.  He said
likewise that he had set his hand and seal to this, and that now when
twelve years had gone by he would have to give him up.

Then said the son, oh, father, do not be uneasy, all will go well.
The black man has no power over me.  The son had himself blessed by
the priest, and when the time came, father and son went together to
the field, and the son made a circle and placed himself inside it
with his father.  Then came the black dwarf and said to the old man,
have you brought with you that which you have promised me.  He was
silent, but the son asked, what do you want here?  Then said the
black dwarf, I have to speak with your father, and not with you.  The
son replied, you have betrayed and misled my father, give back the
writing.  No, said the black dwarf, I will not give up my rights.
They spoke together for a long time after this, but at last they
agreed that the son, as he did not belong to the enemy of mankind,
nor yet to his father, should seat himself in a small boat, which
should lie on water which was flowing away from them, and that the
father should push it off with his own foot, and then the son should
remain given up to the water.  So he took leave of his father, placed
himself in a little boat, and the father had to push it off with his
own foot.  The boat capsized so that the keel was uppermost and the
deck under water, and the father believed his son was lost, and went
home and mourned for him.

The boat, however, did not sink, but floated quietly away, and the
boy sat safely inside it, and it floated thus for a long time, until
at last it ran into an unknown shore.  Then he landed and saw a
beautiful castle before him, and set out to go to it.  But when he
entered it, he found that it was bewitched.  He went through every
room, but all were empty until he reached the last, where a snake lay
coiled in a ring.  The snake, however, was an enchanted maiden, who
rejoiced to see him, and said, have you come, oh, my deliverer.  I
have already waited twelve years for you, this kingdom is bewitched,
and you must set it free.  How can I do that, he inquired.  To-night
come twelve black men, covered with chains who will ask what you are
doing here, but be silent, give them no answer, and let them do what
they will with you, they will torment you, beat you, stab you, let
everything pass, only do not speak, at twelve o'clock, they must go
away again.  On the second night twelve others will come, on the
third, four-and-twenty, who will cut off your head, but at twelve
o'clock their power will be over, and then if you have endured all,
and have not spoken the slightest word, I shall be released.  I will
come to you, and will have, in a bottle, some of the water of life.
I will rub you with that, and then you will come to life again, and
be as healthy as before.  Then said he, I will gladly set you free.
And everything happened just as she had said, the black men could not
force a single word from him, and on the third night the snake became
a beautiful princess, who came with the water of life and brought him
back to life again.

So she threw herself into his arms and kissed him, and there was joy
and gladness in the whole castle.  After this their marriage was
celebrated, and he was king of the golden mountain.

They lived very happily together, and the queen bore a fine boy.
Eight years had already gone by, when the king bethought him of his
father, his heart was moved, and he wished to visit him. The queen,
however, would not let him go away, and said, I know beforehand that
it will cause my unhappiness, but he suffered her to have no rest
until she consented.  At their parting she gave him a wishing-ring,
and said, take this ring and put it on your finger, and then you will
immediately be transported whithersoever you would be, only you must
promise me not to use it in wishing me away from this place and with
thy father.  That he promised her, put the ring on his finger, and
wished himself at home, just outside the town where his father lived.
Instantly he found himself there, and made for the town, but when he
came to the gate, the sentries would not let him in, because he wore
such strange and yet such rich and magnificent clothing.  Then he
went to a hill where a shepherd was watching his sheep, changed
clothes with him, put on his old shepherd's-coat, and then entered
the town without hindrance.

When he came to his father, he made himself known to him, but he did
not at all believe that the shepherd was his son, and said he
certainly had had a son, but that he was dead long ago, however, as
he saw he was a poor, needy shepherd, he would give him something to
eat.  Then the shepherd said to his parents, I am verily your son.
Do you know of no mark on my body by which you could recognize me.
Yes, said his mother, our son had a raspberry mark under his right
arm.  He slipped back his shirt, and they saw the raspberry under his
right arm, and no longer doubted that he was their son.  Then he told
them that he was king of the golden mountain, and a king's daughter
was his wife, and that they had a fine son of seven years old.

Then said the father, that is certainly not true, it is a fine kind
of a king who goes about in a ragged shepherd's-coat.  On this the
son fell in a passion, and without thinking of his promise, turned
his ring round, and wished both his wife and child with him.  They
were there in a second, but the queen wept, and reproached him, and
said that he had broken his word, and had brought misfortune upon
her.  He said, I have done it thoughtlessly, and not with evil
intention, and tried to calm her, and she pretended to believe this,
but she had mischief in her mind.

Then he led her out of the town into the field, and showed her the
stream where the little boat had been pushed off, and then he said, I
am tired, sit down, I will sleep awhile on your lap. And he laid his
head on her lap, and she picked his lice for a while until he fell
asleep.  When he was asleep, she first drew the ring from his finger,
then she drew away the foot which was under him, leaving only the
slipper behind her, and she took her child in her arms, and wished
herself back in her own kingdom.

When he awoke, there he lay quite deserted, and his wife and child
were gone, and so was the ring from his finger, the slipper only was
still there as a token.  Home to your parents you cannot return,
thought he, they would say that you were a wizard, you must be off,
and walk on until you arrive in your own kingdom.  So he went away
and came at length to a hill by which three giants were standing,
disputing with each other because they did not know how to divide
their father's property.

When they saw him passing by, they called to him and said little men
had quick wits, and that he was to divide their inheritance for them.
The inheritance, however, consisted of a sword, which, if anyone took
it in his hand, and said, all heads off but mine, every head would
lie on the ground, secondly, of a cloak which made any one who put it
on invisible, thirdly, of a pair of boots which could transport the
wearer to any place he wished in a moment.  He said, give me the
three things that I may see if they are still in good condition.

They gave him the cloak, and when he had put it on, he was invisible
and changed into a fly.  Then he resumed his own form and said, the
cloak is a good one, now give me the sword.  They said, no, we will
not give you that, if you were to say, all heads off but mine, all
our heads would be off, and you alone would be left with yours.
Nevertheless they gave it to him on the condition that he was only to
try it against a tree.  This he did, and the sword cut in two the
trunk of a tree as if it had been a blade of straw.  Then he wanted
to have the boots likewise, but they said, no, we will not give them,
if you had them on your feet and were to wish yourself at the top of
the hill, we should be left down here with nothing.  Oh, no, said he,
I will not do that.  So they gave him the boots as well.  And now
when he had got all these things, he thought of nothing but his wife
and his child, and said as though to himself, oh, if I were but on
the golden mountain, and at the same moment he vanished from the
sight of the giants, and thus their inheritance was divided.

When he was near his palace, he heard sounds of joy, and fiddles, and
flutes, and the people told him that his wife was celebrating her
wedding with another.  Then he fell into a rage, and said, false
woman, she betrayed and deserted me whilst I was asleep.  So he put
on his cloak, and unseen by all went into the palace.  When he
entered the dining-hall a great table was spread with delicious food,
and the guests were eating and drinking, and laughing, and jesting.
She sat on a royal seat in the midst of them in splendid apparel,
with a crown on her head.

He placed himself behind her, and no one saw him.  When she put a
piece of meat on a plate for herself, he took it away and ate it, and
when she poured out a glass of wine for herself, he took it away and
drank it.  She was always helping herself to something, and yet she
never got anything, for plate and glass disappeared immediately.
Then dismayed and ashamed, she arose and went to her chamber and
wept, but he followed her there.  She said, has the devil power over
me, or did my deliverer never come?  Then he struck her in the face,
and said, did your deliverer never come.  It is he who has you in his
power, you traitor.  Have I deserved this from you.

Then he made himself visible, went into the hall, and cried, the
wedding is at an end, the true king has returned.  The kings,
princes, and councillors who were assembled there, ridiculed and
mocked him, but he did not trouble to answer them, and said, will you
go away, or not.  On this they tried to seize him and pressed upon
him, but he drew his sword and said, all heads off but mine, and all
the heads rolled on the ground, and he alone was master, and once
more king of the golden mountain.
There was once upon a time a queen who had a little daughter who
was still so young that she had to be carried.  One day the
child was naughty, and the mother might say what she liked, but
the child would not be quiet.  Then she became impatient, and as
the ravens were flying about the palace, she opened the
window and said, I wish you were a raven and would fly away,
and then I should have some rest.  Scarcely had she spoken the
words, before the child was changed into a raven, and flew from
her arms out of the window.  It flew into a dark forest, and
stayed in it a long time, and the parents heard nothing of their
child.

Then one day a man was on his way through this forest
and heard the raven crying, and followed the voice, and when
he came nearer, the bird said, I am a king's daughter by birth,
and am bewitched, but you can set me free.  What am I to do, asked
he.  She said, go further into the forest, and you will find
a house, wherein sits an aged woman, who will offer you meat
and drink, but you must accept nothing, for if you eat and
drink anything, you will fall into a sleep, and then you will
not be able to set me free.  In the garden behind the house
there is a great heap of tan, and on this you shall stand
and wait for me.  For three days I will come every afternoon at
two o'clock in a carriage.  On the first day four white horses
will be harnessed to it, then four chestnut horses, and lastly
four black ones, but if you are not awake, but sleeping, I shall
not be set free.  The man promised to do everything that she
desired, but the raven said, alas, I know already that you will
not set me free, you will accept something from the woman.  Then
the man once more promised that he would certainly not touch
anything either to eat or to drink.

But when he entered the house the old woman came
to him and said, poor man, how faint you are, come and refresh
yourself, eat and drink.  No, said the man, I will not eat or
drink.  She, however, let him have no peace, and said, if
you will not eat, take one drink out of the glass, one is
nothing.  Then he let himself be persuaded, and drank.  Shortly
before two o'clock in the afternoon he went into the garden to the
tan heap to wait for the raven.  As he was standing there, his
weariness all at once became so great that he could not struggle
against it, and lay down for a short time, but he was determined
not to go to sleep.  Hardly, however, had he lain down, than
his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell asleep and
slept so soundly that nothing in the world could have aroused him.

At two o'clock the raven came driving up with four white horses,
but she was already in deep grief and said, I know he is asleep.
And when she came into the garden, he was indeed lying there
asleep on the heap of tan.  She alighted from the carriage, went
to him, shook him, and called him, but he did not awake.  Next
day about noon, the old woman came again and brought him food and
drink, but he would not take any of it.  But she let him have no
rest and persuaded him until at length he again took one drink
out of the glass.  Towards two o'clock he went into the garden to
the tan heap to wait for the raven, but all at once felt such
a great weariness that his limbs would no longer support him.
He could not help himself, and was forced to lie down, and fell
into a heavy sleep.

When the raven drove up with four brown
horses, she was already full of grief, and said, I know he is
asleep.  She went to him, but there he lay sleeping, and there was
no wakening him.  Next day the old woman asked what was the meaning
of this.  He was neither eating nor drinking anything, did he want
to die.  He replied, I am not allowed to eat or drink, and will
not do so.  But she set a dish with food, and a glass with wine
before him, and when he smelt it he could not resist, and swallowed
a deep draught.  When the time came, he went out into the garden
to the heap of tan, and waited for the king's daughter,
but he became still more weary than on the day before, and lay down
and slept as
soundly as if he had been a stone.  At two o'clock the raven came
with four black horses, and the coachman and everything else was
black.  She was already in the deepest grief, and said, I know
that he is asleep and cannot set me free.

When she came to him,
there he was lying fast asleep.  She shook him and called him,
but she could not waken him.  Then she laid a loaf beside him,
and after that a piece of meat, and thirdly a bottle of wine, and
he might consume as much of all of them as he liked, but they would
never grow less.  After this she took a gold ring from her finger,
and put it on his, and her name was graven on it.  Lastly, she
laid a letter beside him wherein was written what she had given
him, and that none of the things would ever grow less, and in it
was also written, I see right well that here you will never be able
to set me free, but if you are still willing to do so, come to
the golden castle of Stromberg; it lies in your power, of that I
am certain.  And when she had given him all these things,
she seated herself in her carriage, and drove to the golden castle
of Stromberg.

When the man awoke and saw that he had slept, he was sad at heart,
and said, she has certainly driven by, and I have not set her free.
Then he perceived the things which were lying beside him,
and read the letter wherein was written how everything had
happened.  So he arose and went away, intending to go to the golden
castle of Stromberg, but he did not know where it was.  After he
had walked about the world for a long time, he entered into a dark
forest, and walked for fourteen days, and still could not find his
way out.  Then it was once more evening, and he was so tired that
he lay down in a thicket and fell asleep.  Next day he went
onwards, and in the evening, as he was again about to lie down
beneath some bushes, he heard such a howling and crying that he
could not go to sleep.  And at the time when people light the
candles, he saw one glimmering, and arose and went towards it.

Then he came to a house which seemed very small, for in front
of it a great giant was standing.  He thought to himself, if I go
in, and the giant sees me, it will very likely cost me my life.
At length he ventured it and went in.  When the giant saw him,
he said, it is well that you come, for it is long since I have
eaten, I will at once devour you for my supper.  I'd rather
you did not, said the man, I do not like to be eaten, but if
you have any desire to eat, I have quite enough here to satisfy
you.  If that be true, said the giant, you may be easy, I was only
going to devour you because I had nothing else.

Then they went,
and sat down to the table, and the man took out the bread, wine,
and meat which would never come to an end.  This pleases me
well, said the giant, and ate to his heart's content.  Then
the man said to him, can you tell me where the golden castle
of Stromberg is.  The giant said, I will look at my map,
all the towns, and villages, and houses are to be found on it.

He brought out the map which he had in the room and looked for the
castle, but it was not to be found on it.  It's no matter, said
he, I have some still larger maps in my cupboard upstairs,
and we will look at them.  But there, too, it was in vain.  The
man now wanted to set out again, but the giant begged him to
wait a few days longer until his brother, who had gone out to
bring some provisions, came home.  When the brother came home
they inquired about the golden castle of Stromberg.  He replied,
when I have eaten and have had enough, I will look at the map.

Then he went with them up to his chamber, and they searched
on his map, but could not find it.  Then he brought out still
older maps, and they never rested until they found the golden
castle of Stromberg, but it was many thousand miles away.  How
am I to get there, asked the man.  The giant said, I have two
hours, time, during which I will carry you into the neighborhood,
but after that I must be at home to suckle the child that we have.

So the giant carried the man to about a hundred leagues from
the castle, and said, you can very well walk the rest of the way
alone.  And he turned back, but the man went onwards day and
night, until at length he came to the golden castle of Stromberg.

It stood on a glass-mountain, and the bewitched maiden was
driving in her carriage round the castle, and then went inside
it.  He rejoiced when he saw her and wanted to climb up to her,
but when he began to do so he always slipped down the glass again.
And when he saw that he could not reach her, he was very worried,
and said to himself, I will stay down here below, and wait for
her.  So he built himself a hut and stayed in it for a whole year,
and every day saw the king's daughter driving about above, but
never could reach her.

Then one day he saw from his hut three robbers who were beating
each other, and cried to them, God be with you.  They stopped
when they heard the cry, but as they saw no one, they once more
began to beat each other, and that too most dangerously.  So he
again cried, God be with you.  Again they stopped, looked
round about, but as they saw no one they went on beating each
other.  Then he cried for the third time, God be with you, and
thought, I must see what these three are about, and went thither
and asked why they were beating each other so furiously.  One of
them said that he found a stick, and that when he struck a door
with it, that door would spring open.  The next said that he had
found a mantle, and that whenever he put it on, he was invisible,
but the third said he had found a horse on which a man could
ride everywhere even up the glass-mountain.  And now they did not know
whether they ought to have these things in common, or whether
they ought to divide them.

Then the man said, I will give you
something in exchange for these three things.  Money indeed
have I not, but I have other things of more value, but first I
must make an experiment to see if you have told the truth.  Then
they put him on the horse, threw the mantle round him, and gave
him the stick in his hand, and when he had all these things
they were no longer able to see him.  So he gave them some
vigorous blows and cried, now, vagabonds, you have got what you
deserve, are you satisfied.  And he rode up the glass-mountain,
but when he came in front of the castle at the top, it was shut.

Then he struck the door with his stick, and it sprang open
immediately.  He went in and ascended the stairs until he
came to the hall where the maiden was sitting with a golden
globlet of wine before her.  She, however, could not see him
because he had the mantle on.  And when he came up to her,
he drew from his finger the ring which she had given him, and
threw it into the goblet so that it rang.  Then she cried, that
is my ring, so the man who is to set me free must be here.

They searched the whole castle and did not find him, but he had gone
out, and had seated himself on the horse and thrown off the
mantle.  When they came to the door, they saw him and cried
aloud in their delight.  Then he alighted and took the king's
daughter in his arms, but she kissed him and said, now have you
set me free, and to-morrow we will celebrate our wedding.
There was once a poor peasant who had no land, but only a small
house, and one daughter.  Then said the daughter, we ought to ask our
lord the king for a bit of newly-cleared land.  When the king heard
of their poverty, he presented them with a piece of land, which she
and her father dug up, and intended to sow with a little corn and
grain of that kind.  When they had dug nearly the whole of the field,
they found in the earth a mortar made of pure gold.  Listen, said the
father to the girl, as our lord the king has been so gracious and
presented us with the field, we ought to give him this mortar in
return for it.  The daughter, however, would not consent to this, and
said, father, if we have the mortar without having the pestle as
well, we shall have to get the pestle, so you had much better say
nothing about it.  But he would not obey her, and took the mortar and
carried it to the king, said that he had found it in the cleared
land, and asked if he would accept it as a present.  The king took
the mortar, and asked if he had found nothing besides that.  No,
answered the countryman.

Then the king said that he must now bring him the pestle.  The
peasant said they had not found that, but he might just as well have
spoken to the wind, he was put in prison, and was to stay there until
he produced the pestle.  The servants had daily to carry him bread
and water, which is what people get in prison, and they heard how the
man cried out continually, ah, if I had but listened to my daughter.
Alas, alas, if I had but listened to my daughter, and would neither
eat nor drink.  So he commanded the servants to bring the prisoner
before him, and then the king asked the peasant why he was always
crying, ah, if I had but listened to my daughter, and what it was
that his daughter had said.  She told me that I ought not to take the
mortar to you, for I should have to produce the pestle as well.  If
you have a daughter who is as wise as that, let her come here.

She was therefore obliged to appear before the king, who asked her if
she really was so wise, and said he would set her a riddle, and if
she could guess that, he would marry her.  She at once said yes, she
would guess it.  Then said the king, come to me not clothed, not
naked, not riding, not walking, not in the road, and not off the
road, and if you can do that I will marry you.

So she went away, put off everything she had on, and then she was not
clothed, and took a great fishing net, and seated herself in it and
wrapped it entirely round and round her, so that she was not naked,
and she hired an ass, and tied the fisherman's net to its tail, so
that it was forced to drag her along, and that was neither riding nor
walking.  The ass had also to drag her in the ruts, so that she only
touched the ground with her big toe, and that was neither being in
the road nor off the road.  And when she arrived in that fashion, the
king said she had guessed the riddle and fulfilled all the
conditions.

Then he ordered her father to be released from the prison, took her
to wife, and gave into her care all the royal possessions. Now when
some years had passed, the king was once reviewing his troops on
parade, when it happened that some peasants who had been selling wood
stopped with their waggons before the palace, some of them had oxen
yoked to them, and some horses. There was one peasant who had three
horses, one of which was delivered of a young foal, and it ran away
and lay down between two oxen which were in front of the waggon.
When the peasants came together, they began to dispute, to beat each
other and make a disturbance, and the peasant with the oxen wanted to
keep the foal, and said one of the oxen had given birth to it, and
the other said his horse had had it, and that it was his.  The
quarrel came before the king, and he give the verdict that the foal
should stay where it had been found, and so the peasant with the
oxen, to whom it did not belong, got it.

Then the other went away, and wept and lamented over his foal.  Now
he had heard how gracious his lady the queen was because she herself
had sprung from poor peasant folks, so he went to her and begged her
to see if she could not help him to get his foal back again.  Said
she, yes, I will tell you what to do, if you will promise me not to
betray me.

Early to-morrow morning, when the king parades the guard, place
yourself there in the middle of the road by which he must pass, take
a great fishing-net and pretend to be fishing, go on fishing, and
empty out the net as if you had got it full, and then she told him
also what he was to say if he was questioned by the king.  The next
day, therefore, the peasant stood there, and fished on dry ground.
When the king passed by, and saw that, he sent his messenger to ask
what the stupid man was about.  He answered, I am fishing.  The
messenger asked how he could fish when there was no water there.  The
peasant said, it is as easy for me to fish on dry land as it is for
an ox to have a foal.

The messenger went back and took the answer to the king, who ordered
the peasant to be brought to him and told him that this was not his
own idea, and he wanted to know whose it was.  The peasant, said the
king, must confess this at once.  The peasant, however, would not do
so, and said always, God forbid he should, the idea was his own.  So
they laid him on a heap of straw, and beat him and tormented him so
long that at last he admitted that he had got the idea from the
queen.

When the king reached home again, he said to his wife, why have you
behaved so falsely to me.  I will not have you any longer for a wife,
your time is up, go back to the place from whence you came - to your
peasant's hut.  One favor, however, he granted her, she might take
with her the one thing that was dearest and best in her eyes, and
thus was she dismissed.

She said, yes, my dear husband, if you command this, I will do it,
and she embraced him and kissed him, and said she would take leave of
him.  Then she ordered a powerful sleeping draught to be brought, to
drink farewell to him, the king took a long draught, but she took
only a little.  He soon fell into a deep sleep, and when she
perceived that, she called a servant and took a fair white linen
cloth and wrapped the king in it, and the servant was forced to carry
him into a carriage that stood before the door, and she drove with
him to her own little house.

She laid him in her own little bed, and he slept one day and one
night without awakening, and when he awoke he looked round and said,
good God, where am I.  He called his attendants, but none of them
were there.  At length his wife came to his bedside and said, my dear
lord and king, you told me I might bring away with me from the palace
that which was dearest and most precious in my eyes - I have nothing
more precious and dear than yourself, so I have brought you with me.

Tears rose to the king's eyes and he said, dear wife, you shall be
mine and I will be yours, and he took her back with him to the royal
palace and was married again to her, and at the present time they are
very likely still living.
About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this
country nothing but small kings, and one of them who lived
on the Keuterberg was very fond of hunting.  Once on a time
when he was riding forth from his castle with his huntsmen,
three girls were watching their cows upon the mountain, and
when they saw the king with all his followers, the eldest girl
pointed to him, and called to the two other girls, hullo.  Hullo.
If I do not get that one, I will have none.  Then the second
girl answered from the other side of the hill, and pointed to
the one who was on the king's right hand, hullo.  Hullo.  If
I do not get him, I will have no one.  These, however, were the
two ministers.  The king heard all this, and when he had come
back from the chase, he caused the three girls to be brought
to him, and asked them what they had said yesterday on the
mountain.  This they would not tell him, so the king asked
the eldest if she really would take him for her husband.  Then
she said, yes, and the two ministers married the two sisters,
for they were all three fair and beautiful of face, especially
the queen, who had hair like flax.

But the two sisters had no children, and once when the king was
obliged to go from home he invited them to come to the queen
in order to cheer her, for she was about to bear a child.  She
had a little boy who brought a bright red star into the world
with him.  Then the two sisters said to each other that they
would throw the beautiful boy into the water.  When they had
thrown him in - I believe it was into the Weser - a little
bird flew up into the air, which sang -
          to thy death art thou sped
          until God's word be said.
          In the white lily bloom,
          brave boy, is thy tomb.

When the two heard that, they were frightened to death, and
ran away in great haste.  When the king came home they told him
that the queen had been delivered of a dog.  Then the king
said, what God does, is well done.  But a fisherman who
dwelt near the water fished the little boy out again while
he was still alive, and as his wife had no children, they reared
him.

When a year had gone by, the king again went away, and
the queen had another little boy, whom the false sisters
likewise took and threw into the water.  Then up flew a little
bird again and sang -
          to thy death art thou sped
          until God's word be said.
          In the white lily bloom,
          brave boy, is thy tomb.

And when the king came back, they told him that the queen
had once more given birth to a dog, and he again said,
what God does, is well done.  The fisherman, however, fished
this one also out of the water, and reared him.

Then the king again journeyed forth, and the queen had a
little girl, whom also the false sisters threw into the
water.  Then again a little bird flew up on high and sang -
          to thy death art thou sped
          until God's word be said.
          In the white lily bloom,
          bonny girl, is thy tomb.

And when the king came home they told him that the queen had
been delivered of a cat.  Then the king grew angry, and ordered
his wife to be cast into prison, and therein was she shut up
for many long years.

When the children had grown up, the eldest once went out with
some other boys to fish, but the other boys would not have
him with them, and said, go your way, foundling.

Hereupon he was much troubled, and asked the old fisherman if
that was true.  The fisherman told him that once when he was
fishing he had drawn him out of the water.  So the boy said he
would go forth and seek his father.  The fisherman, however,
entreated him to stay, but he would not let himself be hindered,
and at last the fisherman consented.  Then the boy went on his
way and walked for many days, and at last he came to a great
stretch of water by the side of which stood an old woman fishing.

"Good day, mother," said the boy.

"Many thanks," said she.

"You will fish long enough before you catch anything."

"And you will seek long enough before you find your father.  How
will you get over the water," said the woman.

"God knows."

Then the old woman took him up on her back and carried him
through it, and he sought for a long time, but could not
find his father.

When a year had gone by, the second boy set out to seek his
brother.  He came to the water, and all fared with him just
as with his brother.  And now there was no one at home but the
daughter, and she mourned for her brothers so much that at last
she also begged the fisherman to let her set forth, for she
wished to go in search of her brothers.  Then she likewise came
to the great stretch of water, and she said to the old woman,
"Good day, mother."

"Many thanks," replied the old woman.

"May God help you with your fishing," said the maiden.  When
the old woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried
her over the water, gave her a wand, and said to her, "Go, my
daughter, ever onwards by this road, and when you come to a
great black dog, you must pass it silently and boldly, without
either laughing or looking at it.  Then you will come to a great
high castle, on the threshold of which you must let the wand fall,
and go straight through the castle, and out again on the other
side.  There you will see an old fountain out of which a large
tree has grown, whereon hangs a bird in a cage which you must
take down.  Take likewise a glass of water out of the fountain,
and with these two things go back by the same way.  Pick up
the wand again from the threshold and take it with you, and
when you again pass by the dog, strike him in the face with it,
but be sure that you hit him, and then just come back here to me."

The maiden found everything exactly as the old woman had said, and
on her way back she found her two brothers who had sought each
other over half the world.  They went together to the place
where the black dog was lying on the road, she struck it in
the face, and it turned into a handsome prince who went with
them to the river.  There the old woman was still standing.  She
rejoiced much to see them again, and carried them all over the
water, and then she too went away, for now she was freed.  The
others, however, went to the old fisherman, and all were glad that
they had found each other again, but they hung the bird on the
wall.

But the second son could not settle at home, and took his
crossbow and went a-hunting.  When he was tired he took his
flute, and made music.  The king was hunting too, and heard that
and went thither, and when he met the youth, he said, "Who has given
you leave to hunt here?"

"Oh, no one."

"To whom do you belong, then?"

"I am the fisherman's son."

"But he has no children."

"If you will not believe, come with me."

That the king did, and questioned the fisherman, who told
him everything, and the little bird on the wall began to
sing -
          the mother sits alone
          there in the prison small,
          o king of royal blood,
          these are thy children all.
          The sisters twain so false,
          they wrought the children woe,
          there in the waters deep
          where the fishermen come and go.

Then they were all terrified, and the king took the bird, the
fisherman and the three children back with him to the castle,
and ordered the prison to be opened and brought his wife
out again.  She had grown quite ill and weak, so the daughter
gave her some of the water of the fountain to drink, and she
became strong and healthy.  But the two false sisters were
burnt, and the daughter married the prince.
There was once a king who had an illness, and no one believed that he
would come out of it with his life.  He had three sons who were much
distressed about it, and went down into the palace-garden and wept.
There they met an old man who inquired as to the cause of their
grief.  They told him that their father was so ill that he would most
certainly die, for nothing seemed to cure him.  Then the old man
said, "I know of one more remedy, and that is the water of life.  If
he drinks of it he will become well again, but it is hard to find."
The eldest said, "I will manage to find it." And went to the sick
king, and begged to be allowed to go forth in search of the water of
life, for that alone could save him.  "No," said the king, "the
danger of it is too great.  I would rather die."

But he begged so long that the king consented.  The prince thought in
his heart, "If I bring the water, then I shall be best beloved of my
father, and shall inherit the kingdom." So he set out, and when he
had ridden forth a little distance, a dwarf stood there in the road
who called to him and said, "Whither away so fast?" "Silly shrimp,"
said the prince, very haughtily, "it is nothing to do with you." And
rode on.  But the little dwarf had grown angry, and had wished an
evil wish.  Soon after this the prince entered a ravine, and the
further he rode the closer the mountains drew together, and at last
the road became so narrow that he could not advance a step further.
It was impossible either to turn his horse or to dismount from the
saddle, and he was shut in there as if in prison.  The sick king
waited long for him, but he came not.

Then the second son said, "father, let me go forth to seek the
water." And thought to himself, "If my brother is dead, then the
kingdom will fall to me." At first the king would not allow him to go
either, but at last he yielded, so the prince set out on the same
road that his brother had taken, and he too met the dwarf, who
stopped him to ask whither he was going in such haste.  "Little
shrimp," said the prince, "that is nothing to do with you." And rode
on without giving him another look.  But the dwarf bewitched him, and
he, like the other, rode into a ravine, and could neither go forwards
nor backwards.  So fare haughty people.

As the second son also remained away, the youngest begged to be
allowed to go forth to fetch the water, and at last the king was
obliged to let him go.  When he met the dwarf and the latter asked
him whither he was going in such haste, he stopped, gave him an
explanation, and said, "I am seeking the water of life, for my father
is sick unto death."

"Do you know, then, where that is to be found?"

"No," said the prince.

"As you have borne yourself as is seemly, and not haughtily like your
false brothers, I will give you the information and tell you how you
may obtain the water of life.  It springs from a fountain in the
courtyard of an enchanted castle, but you will not be able to make
your way to it, if I do not give you an iron wand and two small
loaves of bread.  Strike thrice with the wand on the iron door of the
castle and it will spring open, inside lie two lions with gaping
jaws, but if you throw a loaf to each of them, they will be quieted.
Then hasten to fetch some of the water of life before the clock
strikes twelve else the door will shut again, and you will be
imprisoned."

The prince thanked him, took the wand and the bread, and set out on
his way.  When he arrived, everything was as the dwarf had said.  The
door sprang open at the third stroke of the wand, and when he had
appeased the lions with the bread, he entered the castle, and came to
a large and splendid hall, wherein sat some enchanted princes whose
rings he drew off their fingers.  A sword and a loaf of bread were
lying there, which he carried away.  After this, he entered a
chamber, in which was a beautiful maiden who rejoiced when she saw
him, kissed him, and told him that he had set her free, and should
have the whole of her kingdom, and that if he would return in a year
their wedding should be celebrated.  Likewise she told him where the
spring of the water of life was, and that he was to hasten and draw
some of it before the clock struck twelve.  Then he went onwards, and
at last entered a room where there was a beautiful newly-made bed,
and as he was very weary, he felt inclined to rest a little.  So he
lay down and fell asleep.

When he awoke, it was striking a quarter to twelve.  He sprang up in
a fright, ran to the spring, drew some water in a cup which stood
near, and hastened away.  But just as he was passing through the iron
door, the clock struck twelve, and the door fell to with such
violence that it carried away a piece of his heel.

He, however, rejoicing at having obtained the water of life, went
homewards, and again passed the dwarf.  When the latter saw the sword
and the loaf, he said, "With these you have won great wealth, with
the sword you can slay whole armies, and the bread will never come to
an end." But the prince would not go home to his father without his
brothers, and said, "Dear dwarf, can you not tell me where my two
brothers are?  They went out before I did in search of the water of
life, and have not returned."

"They are imprisoned between two mountains," said the dwarf. "I have
condemned them to stay there, because they were so haughty." Then the
prince begged until the dwarf released them, but he warned him and
said, "Beware of them, for they have bad hearts." When his brothers
came, he rejoiced, and told them how things had gone with him, that
he had found the water of life and had brought a cupful away with
him, and had rescued a beautiful princess, who was willing to wait a
year for him, and then their wedding was to be celebrated and he
would obtain a great kingdom.

After that they rode on together, and chanced upon a land where war
and famine reigned, and the king already thought he must perish, for
the scarcity was so great.  Then the prince went to him and gave him
the loaf, wherewith he fed and satisfied the whole of his kingdom,
and then the prince gave him the sword also wherewith he slew the
hosts of his enemies, and could now live in rest and peace.  The
prince then took back his loaf and his sword, and the three brothers
rode on.  But after this they entered two more countries where war
and famine reigned and each time the prince gave his loaf and his
sword to the kings, and had now delivered three kingdoms, and after
that they went on board a ship and sailed over the sea.  During the
passage, the two eldest conversed apart and said, "The youngest has
found the water of life and not we, for that our father will give him
the kingdom - the kingdom which belongs to us, and he will rob us of
all our fortune." They then began to seek revenge, and plotted with
each other to destroy him.  They waited until they found him fast
asleep, then they poured the water of life out of the cup, and took
it for themselves, but into the cup they poured salt sea-water.

Now therefore, when they arrived home, the youngest took his cup to
the sick king in order that he might drink out of it, and be cured.
But scarcely had he drunk a very little of the salt sea-water than he
became still worse than before.  And as he was lamenting over this,
the two eldest brothers came, and accused the youngest of having
intended to poison him, and said that they had brought him the true
water of life, and handed it to him.  He had scarcely tasted it, when
he felt his sickness departing, and became strong and healthy as in
the days of his youth.

After that they both went to the youngest, mocked him, and said, "You
certainly found the water of life, but you have had the pain, and we
the gain, you should have been cleverer, and should have kept your
eyes open.  We took it from you whilst you were asleep at sea, and
when a year is over, one of us will go and fetch the beautiful
princess. But beware that you do not disclose aught of this to our
father, indeed he does not trust you, and if you say a single word,
you shall lose your life into the bargain, but if you keep silent,
you shall have it as a gift."

The old king was angry with his youngest son, and thought he had
plotted against his life.  So he summoned the court together and had
sentence pronounced upon his son, that he should be secretly shot.
And once when the prince was riding forth to the chase, suspecting no
evil, the king's huntsman was told to go with him, and when they were
quite alone in the forest, the huntsman looked so sorrowful that the
prince said to him, "Dear huntsman, what ails you?" The huntsman
said, "I cannot tell you, and yet I ought." Then the prince said,
"Say openly what it is, I will pardon you." "Alas," said the
huntsman, "I am to shoot you dead, the king has ordered me to do it."
Then the prince was shocked, and said, "Dear huntsman, let me live,
there, I give you my royal garments, give me your common ones in
their stead." The huntsman said, "I will willingly do that, indeed I
would not have been able to shoot you." Then they exchanged clothes,
and the huntsman returned home, while the prince went further into
the forest.

After a time three waggons of gold and precious stones came to the
king for his youngest son, which were sent by the three kings who had
slain their enemies with the prince's sword, and maintained their
people with his bread, and who wished to show their gratitude for it.
The old king then thought, "Can my son have been innocent?" And said
to his people, "Would that he were still alive, how it grieves me
that I have suffered him to be killed." "He still lives," said the
huntsman, "I could not find it in my heart to carry out your
command." And told the king how it had happened.  Then a stone fell
from the king's heart, and he had it proclaimed in every country that
his son might return and be taken into favor again.

The princess, however, had a road made up to her palace which was
quite bright and golden, and told her people that whosoever came
riding straight along it to her, would be the right one and was to be
admitted, and whoever rode by the side of it, was not the right one
and was not to be admitted.

As the time was now close at hand, the eldest thought he would hasten
to go to the king's daughter, and give himself out as her rescuer,
and thus win her for his bride, and the kingdom to boot.  Therefore
he rode forth, and when he arrived in front of the palace, and saw
the splendid golden road, he thought, it would be a sin and a shame
if I were to ride over that.  And turned aside, and rode on the right
side of it. But when he came to the door, the servants told him that
he was not the right one, and was to go away again.

Soon after this the second prince set out, and when he came to the
golden road, and his horse had put one foot on it, he thought, it
would be a sin and a shame, a piece might be trodden off.  And he
turned aside and rode on the left side of it, and when he reached the
door, the attendants told him he was not the right one, and he was to
go away again.

When at last the year had entirely expired, the third son likewise
wished to ride out of the forest to his beloved, and with her forget
his sorrows.  So he set out and thought of her so incessantly, and
wished to be with her so much, that he never noticed the golden road
at all.  So his horse rode onwards up the middle of it, and when he
came to the door, it was opened and the princess received him with
joy, and said he was her saviour, and lord of the kingdom, and their
wedding was celebrated with great rejoicing.  When it was over she
told him that his father invited him to come to him, and had forgiven
him.

So he rode thither, and told him everything, how his brothers had
betrayed him, and how he had nevertheless kept silence.  The old king
wished to punish them, but they had put to sea, and never came back
as long as they lived.
There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early
morning till late at night.  When at last he had laid by some
money he said to his boy, "You are my only child, I will spend the
money which I have earned with the sweat of my brow on your
education, if you learn some honest trade you can support me in
my old age, when my limbs have grown stiff and I am obliged to
stay at home."

Then the boy went to a high school and learned
diligently so that his masters praised him, and he remained
there a long time.  When he had worked through two classes, but
was still not yet perfect in everything, the little pittance
which the father had earned was all spent, and the boy was
obliged to return home to him.

"Ah," said the father, sorrowfully, "I can
give you no more, and in these hard times I cannot earn a
farthing more than will suffice for our daily bread."  "Dear
father," answered the son, "don't trouble yourself about it, if it
is God's will, it will turn to my advantage.  I shall soon
accustom myself to it."  When the father wanted to go into the
forest to earn money by helping to chop and stack wood, the
son said, "I will go with you and help you."  "Nay, my son," said
the father, "that would be hard for you.  You are not accustomed
to rough work, and will not be able to bear it.  Besides, I have
only one axe and no money left wherewith to buy another."  "Just
go to the neighbor," answered the son, "he will lend you his axe
until I have earned one for myself."

The father then borrowed an axe of the neighbor, and next
morning at break of day they went out into the forest together.
The son helped his father and was quite merry and brisk about
it.  But when the sun was right over their heads, the father
said, "We will rest, and have our dinner, and then we shall work
twice as well."  The son took his bread in his hands, and said,
"Just you rest, father, I am not tired, I will walk up and down
a little in the forest, and look for birds' nests."  "Oh, you fool,"
said the father, "why should you want to run about there?  Afterwards
you will be tired, and no longer able to raise your arm.
Stay here, and sit down beside me."

The son, however, went into the forest, ate his bread, was very
merry and peered in among the green branches to see if he could
discover a bird's nest anywhere.  So he walked to and fro until
at last he came to a great dangerous-looking oak, which
certainly was already many hundred years old, and which five
men could not have spanned.  He stood still and looked at it, and
thought, many a bird must have built its nest in that.  Then all at
once it seemed to him that he heard a voice.  He listened and
became aware that someone was crying in a very smothered voice,
"Let me out, let me out."  He looked around, but could discover
nothing.  Then he fancied that the voice came out of the ground.
So he cried, "Where are you?"  The voice answered, "I am down here
amongst the roots of the oak-tree.  Let me out.  Let me out."

The schoolboy began to loosen the earth under the tree, and search
among the roots, until at last he found a glass bottle in a little
hollow.  He lifted it up and held it against the light, and then
saw a creature shaped like a frog, springing up and down in it.
"Let me out.  Let me out," it cried anew, and the boy thinking no
evil, drew the cork out of the bottle.  Immediately a spirit
ascended from it, and began to grow, and grew so fast that in a
very few moments he stood before the boy, a terrible fellow as big
as half the tree.  "Do you know," he cried in an awful voice, "what
your reward is for having let me out?"  "No," replied the boy
fearlessly, "how should I know that?"  "Then I will tell you," cried
the spirit, "I must strangle you for it."  "You should have told me
that sooner," said the boy, "for I should then have left you shut
up, but my head shall stand fast for all you can do, more persons
than one must be consulted about that."  "More persons here, more
persons there," said the spirit.  "You shall have the reward you
have earned.  Do you think that I was shut up there for such a
long time as a favor.  No, it was a punishment for me.  I am the
mighty Mercurius.  Whoso releases me, him must I strangle."
"Slowly," answered the boy, "not so fast.  I must first know that
you really were shut up in that little bottle, and that you are
the right spirit.  If, indeed, you can get in again, I will believe
and then you may do as you will with me."  The spirit said
haughtily, "that is a very trifling feat."  Drew himself together,
and made himself as small and slender as he had been at first, so
that he crept through the same opening, and right through the neck
of the bottle in again.  Scarcely was he within than the boy
thrust the cork he had drawn back into the bottle, and threw
it among the roots of the oak into its old place, and the spirit
was deceived.

And now the schoolboy was about to return to his father, but the
spirit cried very piteously, "Ah, do let me out, ah, do let me out."
"No," answered the boy, "not a second time.  He who has once tried to
take my life shall not be set free by me, now that I have caught
him again."  "If you will set me free," said the spirit, "I will give
you so much that you will have plenty all the days of your life."
"No," answered the boy, "you would cheat me as you did the first time."
"You are spurning you own good luck," said the spirit, "I will do you
no harm but will reward you richly."  The boy thought, "I will
venture it, perhaps he will keep his word, and anyhow he shall not
get the better of me."

Then he took out the cork, and the spirit
rose up from the bottle as he had done before, stretched himself
out and became as big as a giant.  "Now you shall have your reward,"
said he, and handed the boy a little rag just like stiking-plaster,
and said, "If you spread one end of this over a wound it
will heal, and if you rub steel or iron with the other end it will
be changed into silver."  "I must just try that," said the boy, and
went to a tree, tore off the bark with his axe, and rubbed it
with one end of the plaster.  It immediately closed together and
was healed.  "Now, it is all right," he said to the spirit, "and we
can part."  The spirit thanked him for his release, and the boy
thanked the spirit for his present, and went back to his father.

"Where have you been racing about?" said the father.  "Why have you
forgotten your work?  I always said that you would never come to
anything."  "Be easy, father, I will make it up."  "Make it up indeed,"
said the father angrily, "that's no use."  "Take care, father, I will
soon hew that tree there, so that it will split."  Then he took
his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and dealt a mighty blow, but
as the iron had changed into silver, the edge bent.  "Hi, father,
just look what a bad axe you've given me, it has become quite
crooked."  The father was shocked and said, "Ah, what have you done!
Now I shall have to pay for that, and have not the wherewithal, and
that is all the good I have got by your
work."  "Don't get angry," said the son, "I will soon pay for the axe."
"Oh, you blockhead," cried the father, "Wherewith will you pay for it?
You have nothing but what I give you.  These are students' tricks
that are sticking in your head, you have no idea of woodcutting."

After a while the boy said, "Father, I can really work no more, we
had better take a holiday."  "Eh, what," answered he, "do you think I
will sit with my hands lying in my lap like you.  I must go on
working, but you may take yourself off home."  "Father, I am here in
this wood for the first time, I don't know my way alone.  Do go
with me."  As his anger had now abated, the father at last let
himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the
son, "Go and sell your damaged axe, and see what you can get for it,
and I must earn the difference, in order to pay the neighbor."

The son took the axe, and carried it into town to a goldsmith,
who tested it, laid it in the scales, and said, "It is worth four
hundred talers, I have not so much as that by me."  The son said,
"Give me what thou have, I will lend you the rest."  The goldsmith
gave him three hundred talers, and remained a hundred in his
debt.  The son thereupon went home and said, "Father, I have got
the money, go and ask the neighbor what he wants for the axe."
"I know that already," answered the old man, "one taler, six groschen."
"Then give him him two talers, twelve groschen, that is double and
enough.  See, I have money in plenty."  And he gave the father
a hundred talers, and said, "You shall never know want, live as
comfortably as you like."

"Good heavens," said the father, "how
have you come by these riches?"  The boy then told how all had come
to pass, and how he, trusting in his luck, had made such a packet.
But with the money that was left, he went back to the high school
and went on learning more, and as he could heal all wounds with
his plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world.
A discharged soldier had nothing to live on, and did not know how to
make his way.  So he went out into the forest and when he had walked
for a short time, he met a little man who turned out to be the devil.
The little man said to him, "What ails you, you seem so very
sorrowful?" Then the soldier said, "I am hungry, but have no money."
The devil said, "If you will hire yourself to me, and be my
serving-man, you shall have enough for all your life.  You shall
serve me for seven years, and after that you shall again be free. But
one thing I must tell you, and that is, you must not wash, comb, or
trim yourself, or cut your hair or nails, or wipe the water from your
eyes." The soldier said, "All right, if there is no help for it," and
went off with the little man, who straightway led him down into hell.
Then he told him what he had to do.  He was to poke the fire under
the kettles wherein the hell-broth was stewing, keep the house clean,
drive all the sweepings behind the doors, and see that everything was
in order, but if he once peeped into the kettles, it would go ill
with him.  The soldier said, "Good, I will take care." And then the
old devil went out again on his wanderings, and the soldier entered
upon his new duties, made the fire, and swept the dirt well behind
the doors, just as he had been bidden.

When the old devil came back again, he looked to see if all had been
done, appeared satisfied, and went forth a second time.  The soldier
now took a good look on every side, the kettles were standing all
round hell with a mighty fire below them, and inside they were
boiling and sputtering.  He would have given anything to look inside
them, if the devil had not so particularly forbidden him.

At last he could no longer restrain himself, slightly raised the lid
of the first kettle, and peeped in, and there he saw his former
corporal sitting. "Aha, old bird," said he, "do I meet you here?  You
once had me in your power, now I have you." And he quickly let the
lid fall, poked the fire, and added a fresh log.  After that, he went
to the second kettle, raised its lid also a little, and peeped in and
there sat his former ensign.  "Aha, old bird, so I find you here, you
once had me in your power, now I have you." He closed the lid again,
and fetched yet another log to make it really hot.  Then he wanted to
see who might be sitting up in the third kettle - and who should it
be but his general.  "Aha, old bird, do I meet you here.  Once you
had me in your power, now I have you." And he fetched the bellows and
made hell-fire blaze right under him.

So he did his work seven years in hell, did not wash, comb, or trim
himself, or cut his hair or nails, or wash the water out of his eyes,
and the seven years seemed so short to him that he thought he had
only been half a year.  Now when the time had fully gone by, the
devil came and said, "Well Hans, what have you done?" "I poked the
fire under the kettles, and I have swept all the dirt well behind the
doors."

"But you have peeped into the kettles as well, it is lucky for you
that you added fresh logs to them, or else your life would have been
forfeited.  Now that your time is up, will you go home again?" "Yes,"
said the soldier, "I should very much like to see what my father is
doing at home." The devil said, "In order that you may receive the
wages you have earned, go and fill your knapsack full of the
sweepings, and take it home with you.  You must also go unwashed and
uncombed, with long hair on your head and beard, and with uncut nails
and dim eyes, and when you are asked whence you come, you must say,
from hell, and when you are asked who you are, you are to say, the
devil's sooty brother, and my king as well."

The soldier held his peace, and did as the devil bade him, but he was
not at all satisfied with his wages. Then as soon as he was up in the
forest again, he took his knapsack from his back, to empty it, but on
opening it, the sweepings had become pure gold.  "I should never have
expected that," said he, and was well pleased, and entered the town.
The landlord was standing in front of the inn, and when he saw the
soldier approaching, he was terrified, because Hans looked such a
horrible sight, worse than a scare-crow.  He called to him and asked,
"Whence do you come?" "From hell." "Who are you?" "The devil's sooty
brother, and my king as well." Then the host would not let him enter,
but when Hans showed him the gold, he came and unlatched the door
himself.  Hans then ordered the best room and attendance, ate, and
drank his fill, but neither washed nor combed himself as the devil
had bidden him, and at last lay down to sleep.  But the knapsack full
of gold remained before the eyes of the landlord, and left him no
peace, and during the night he crept in and stole it away.  Next
morning, however, when Hans got up and wanted to pay the landlord and
travel further, behold his knapsack was gone.  But he soon composed
himself and thought, you have been unfortunate from no fault of your
own.  And straightway went back again to hell, complained of his
misfortune to the old devil, and begged for his help.  The devil
said, "Seat yourself, I will wash, comb, and trim you, cut your hair
and nails, and wash your eyes for you." And when he had done with
him, he gave him the knapsack back again full of sweepings, and said,
"Go and tell the landlord that he must return you your money, or else
I will come and fetch him, and he shall poke the fire in your place."
Hans went up and said to the landlord, "You have stolen my money, if
you do not return it, you shall go down to hell in my place, and will
look as horrible as I." Then the landlord gave him the money, and
more besides, only begging him to keep it secret.  And Hans was now a
rich man.

He set out on his way home to his father, bought himself a shabby
smock to wear, and strolled about making music, for he had learned to
do that while he was with the devil in hell.

There was however, an old king in that country, before whom he had to
play, and the king was so delighted with his playing, that he
promised him his eldest daughter in marriage.  But when she heard
that she was to be married to a common fellow in a smock, she said,
"Rather than do that, I would go into the deepest water." Then the
king gave him the youngest, who was quite willing to do it to please
her father, and thus the devil's sooty brother got the king's
daughter, and when the aged king died, the whole kingdom likewise.

There was once a young fellow who enlisted as a soldier, conducted
himself bravely, and was always the foremost when it rained bullets.
So long as the war lasted, all went well, but when peace was made, he
received his dismissal, and the captain said he might go where he
liked.  His parents were dead, and he had no longer a home, so he
went to his brothers and begged them to take him in, and keep him
until war broke out again.  The brothers, however, were hard-hearted
and said, "What can we do with you?  You are of no use to us, go and
make a living for yourself." The soldier had nothing left but his
gun, so he took that on his shoulder, and went forth into the world.

He came to a wide heath, on which nothing was to be seen but a circle
of trees, under these he sat sorrowfully down, and began to think
over his fate.  I have no money, thought he, I have learnt no trade
but that of fighting, and now that they have made peace they don't
want me any longer, so I see before hand that I shall have to starve.
All at once he heard a rustling and when he looked round, a strange
man stood before him, who wore a green coat and looked right stately,
but had a hideous cloven foot.  "I know already what you are in need
of," said the man, "gold and possessions shall you have, as much as
you can make away with, do what you will, but first I must know if
you are fearless, that I may not bestow my money in vain." "A soldier
and fear - how can those two things go together?" he answered, "You
can put me to the proof." "Very well, then," answered the man, "look
behind you." The soldier turned round, and saw a large bear, which
came growling towards him.  "Oho," cried the soldier, "I will tickle
your nose for you, so that you shall soon lose your fancy for
growling," and he aimed at the bear and shot it through the muzzle,
it fell down and never stirred again.  "I see quite well," said the
stranger, "that you are not wanting in courage, but there is still
another condition which you will have to fulfil." "If it does not
endanger my salvation," replied the soldier, who knew very well who
was standing by him.  "If it does, I'll have nothing to do with it."
"You will look to that for yourself," answered greencoat, "you shall
for the next seven years neither wash yourself, nor comb your beard,
nor your hair, nor cut your nails, nor once say the Lord's prayer.  I
will give you a coat and a cloak, which during this time you must
wear.  If you die during these seven years, you are mine, if you
remain alive, you are free, and rich to boot, for all the rest of
your life." The soldier thought of the great extremity in which he
now found himself, and as he so often had gone to meet death, he
resolved to risk it now also, and agreed to the terms.  The devil
took off his green coat, and gave it to the soldier, and said, "If
you have this coat on your back and put your hand into the pocket,
you will always find it full of money." Then he pulled the skin off
the bear and said, "This shall be your cloak, and your bed also, for
thereon shall you sleep, and and in no other bed shall you lie, and
because of this apparel shall you be called Bearskin." Whereupon the
devil vanished.

The soldier put the coat on, felt at once in the pocket, and found
that the thing was really true.  Then he put on the bearskin and went
forth into the world, and enjoyed himself, refraining from nothing
that did him good and his money harm.

During the first year his appearance was passable, but during the
second he began to look like a monster.  His hair covered nearly the
whole of his face, his beard was like a piece of coarse felt, his
fingers had claws, and his face was so covered with dirt that if
cress had been sown on it, it would have come up.  Whosoever saw him,
ran away, but as he everywhere gave the poor money to pray that he
might not die during the seven years, and as he paid well for
everything he still always found shelter.

In the fourth year, he entered an inn where the landlord would not
receive him, and would not even let him have a place in the stable,
because he was afraid the horses would be scared.  But as Bearskin
thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of ducats,
the host let himself be persuaded and gave him a room in an outhouse.
Bearskin, however, was obliged to promise not to let himself be seen,
lest the inn should get a bad name.

As Bearskin was sitting alone in the evening, and wishing from the
bottom of his heart that the seven years were over, he heard a loud
lamenting in a neighboring room.  He had a compassionate heart, so he
opened the door, and saw an old man weeping bitterly, and wringing
his hands.  Bearskin went nearer, but the man sprang to his feet and
tried to escape from him. At last when the man perceived that
Bearskin's voice was human he let himself be prevailed upon, and by
kind words bearskin succeeded so far that the old man revealed the
cause of his grief. His property had dwindled away by degrees, he and
his daughters would have to starve, and he was so poor that he could
not pay the innkeeper, and was to be put in prison.  "If that is your
only trouble," said Bearskin, "I have plenty of money." He caused the
innkeeper to be brought thither, paid him and even put a purse full
of gold into the poor old man's pocket.

When the old man saw himself set free from all his troubles he did
not know how to show his gratitude.  "Come with me," said he to
Bearskin, "my daughters are all miracles of beauty, choose one of
them for yourself as a wife.  When she hears what you have done for
me, she will not refuse you.  You do in truth look a little strange,
but she will soon put you to rights again." This pleased Bearskin
well, and he went.  When the eldest saw him she was so terribly
alarmed at his face that she screamed and ran away.  The second stood
still and looked at him from head to foot, but then she said, "How
can I accept a husband who no longer has a human form?  The shaven
bear that once was here and passed itself off for a man pleased me
far better, for at any rate it wore a hussar's dress and white
gloves.  If he were only ugly, I might get used to that." The
youngest, however, said, "Dear father, that must be a good man to
have helped you out of your trouble, so if you have promised him a
bride for doing it, your promise must be kept." It was a pity that
Bearskin's face was covered with dirt and with hair, for if not they
might have seen how delighted he was when he heard these words.  He
took a ring from his finger, broke it in two, and gave her one half,
the other he kept for himself.  Then he wrote his name on her half,
and hers on his, and begged her to keep her piece carefully. Then he
took his leave and said, "I must still wander about for three years,
and if I do not return then, you are free, for I shall be dead.  But
pray to God to preserve my life."

The poor betrothed bride dressed herself entirely in black, and when
she thought of her future bridegroom, tears came into her eyes.
Nothing but contempt and mockery fell to her lot from her sisters.
"Take care," said the eldest, "if you give him your hand, he will
strike his claws into it." "Beware," said the second.  "Bears like
sweet things, and if he takes a fancy to you, he will eat you up."
"You must always do as he likes," began the elder again, or else he
will growl." And the second continued, "But the wedding will be a
merry one, for bears dance well." The bride was silent, and did not
let them vex her.  Bearskin, however, traveled about the world from
one place to another, did good where he was able, and gave generously
to the poor that they might pray for him.

At length, as the last day of the seven years dawned, he went once
more out on to the heath, and seated himself beneath the circle of
trees.  It was not long before the wind whistled, and the devil stood
before him and looked angrily at him, then he threw bearskin his
coat, and asked for his own green one back. "We have not got so far
as that yet," answered Bearskin, "you must first make me clean."
Whether the devil liked it or not, he was forced to fetch water, and
wash Bearskin, comb his hair, and cut his nails.  After this, he
looked like a brave soldier, and was much handsomer than he had ever
been before.

When the devil had gone away, Bearskin was quite lighthearted. He
went into the town, put on a magnificent velvet coat, seated himself
in a carriage drawn by four white horses, and drove to his bride's
house.  No one recognized him.  The father took him for a
distinguished general, and led him into the room where his daughters
were sitting.  He was forced to place himself between the two eldest,
who helped him to wine, gave him the best pieces of meat, and thought
that in all the world they had never seen a handsomer man.  The
bride, however, sat opposite to him in her black dress, and never
raised her eyes, nor spoke a word.  When at length he asked the
father if he would give him one of his daughters to wife, the two
eldest jumped up, ran into their bedrooms to put on splendid dresses,
for each of them fancied she was the chosen one.

The stranger, as soon as he was alone with his bride, brought out his
half of the ring, and threw it in a glass of wine which he handed
across the table to her.  She took the wine, but when she had drunk
it, and found the half ring lying at the bottom, her heart began to
beat.  She got the other half, which she wore on a ribbon round her
neck, joined them, and saw that the two pieces fitted exactly
together.  Then said he, "I am your betrothed bridegroom, whom you
saw as Bearskin, but through God's grace I have again received my
human form, and have once more become clean." He went up to her,
embraced her, and gave her a kiss.  In the meantime the two sisters
came back in full dress, and when they saw that the handsome man had
fallen to the share of the youngest, and heard that he was Bearskin,
they ran out full of anger and rage.  One of them drowned herself in
the well, the other hanged herself on a tree.  In the evening, some
one knocked at the door, and when the bridegroom opened it, it was
the devil in his green coat, who said, "You see, I have now got two
souls in the place of your one."
Once in summer-time the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest,
and the bear heard a bird singing so beautifully that he said,
"Brother wolf, what bird is it that sings so well?" "That is the king
of birds," said the wolf, "before whom we must bow down." In reality
the bird was the willow-wren.  "If that's the case," said the bear,
"I should very much like to see his royal palace, come, take me
thither." "That is not done quite as you seem to think," said the
wolf, "you must wait until the queen comes." Soon afterwards the
queen arrived with some food in her beak, and the lord king came too,
and they began to feed their young ones.  The bear would have liked
to go at once, but the wolf held him back by the sleeve, and said,
no, you must wait until the lord and lady queen have gone away again.
So they took stock of the hole where the nest lay, and trotted away.

The bear, however, could not rest until he had seen the royal palace,
and when a short time had passed, went to it again.  The king and
queen had just flown out, so he peeped in and saw five or six young
ones lying there.  "Is that the royal palace," cried the bear, "it is
a wretched palace, and you are not king's children, you are
disreputable children." When the young wrens heard that, they were
frightfully angry, and screamed, "No, that we are not.  Our parents
are honest people. Bear, you will have to pay for that."

The bear and the wolf grew uneasy, and turned back and went into
their holes.  The young willow-wrens, however, continued to cry and
scream, and when their parents again brought food they said, "We will
not so much as touch one fly's leg, no, not if we were dying of
hunger, until you have settled whether we are respectable children or
not, the bear has been here and has insulted us." Then the old king
said, "Be easy, he shall be punished," and he at once flew with the
queen to the bear's cave, and called in, "Old growler, why have you
insulted my children? You shall suffer for it - we will punish you by
a bloody war."

Thus war was announced to the bear, and all four-footed animals were
summoned to take part in it, oxen, asses, cows, deer, and every other
animal the earth contained.  And the willow-wren summoned everything
which flew in the air, not only birds, large and small, but midges,
and hornets, bees and flies had to come. When the time came for the
war to begin, the willow-wren sent out spies to discover who was the
enemy's commander-in-chief.

The gnat, who was the most crafty, flew into the forest where the
enemy was assembled, and hid herself beneath a leaf of the tree where
the password was to be announced.  There stood the bear, and he
called the fox before him and said, "Fox, you are the most cunning of
all animals, you shall be general and lead us." "Good," said the fox,
"but what signal shall we agree upon?" No one knew that, so the fox
said, "I have a fine long bushy tail, which almost looks like a plume
of red feathers. When I lift my tail up quite high, all is going
well, and you must charge, but if I let it hang down, run away as
fast as you can." When the gnat had heard that, she flew away again,
and revealed everything, down to the minutest detail, to the
willow-wren.

When day broke, and the battle was to begin, all the four-footed
animals came running up with such a noise that the earth trembled.
The willow-wren with his army also came flying through the air with
such a humming, and whirring, and swarming that every one was uneasy
and afraid, and on both sides they advanced against each other.  But
the willow-wren sent down the hornet, with orders to settle beneath
the fox's tail, and sting with all his might.  When the fox felt the
first sting, he started so that he lifted one leg, from pain, but he
bore it, and still kept his tail high in the air, at the second
sting, he was forced to put it down for a moment, at the third, he
could hold out no longer, screamed, and put his tail between his
legs. When the animals saw that, they thought all was lost, and began
to flee, each into his hole, and the birds had won the battle.

Then the king and queen flew home to their children and cried,
"Children, rejoice, eat and drink to your heart's content, we have
won the battle.  But the young wrens said, we will not eat yet, the
bear must come to the nest, and beg for pardon and say that we are
honorable children, before we will do that." Then the willow-wren
flew to the bear's hole and cried, "Growler, you are to come to the
nest to my children, and beg their pardon, or else every rib of your
body shall be broken." So the bear crept thither in the greatest
fear, and begged their pardon.  And now at last the young wrens were
satisfied, and sat down together and ate and drank, and made merry
till quite late into the night.
There was a poor but good little girl who lived alone with her
mother, and they no longer had anything to eat.  So the child went
into the forest, and there an aged woman met her who was aware of her
sorrow, and presented her with a little pot, which when she said,
cook, little pot, cook, would cook good, sweet porridge, and when she
said, stop, little pot, it ceased to cook.  The girl took the pot
home to her mother, and now they were freed from their poverty and
hunger, and ate sweet porridge as often as they chose.  Once on a
time when the girl had gone out, her mother said, cook, little pot,
cook.  And it did cook and she ate till she was satisfied, and then
she wanted the pot to stop cooking, but did not know the word.  So it
went on cooking and the porridge rose over the edge, and still it
cooked on until the kitchen and whole house were full, and then the
next house, and then the whole street, just as if it wanted to
satisfy the hunger of the whole world, and there was the greatest
distress, but no one knew how to stop it.  At last when only one
single house remained, the child came home and just said, stop,
little pot, and it stopped and gave up cooking, and whosoever wished
to return to the town had to eat his way back.
One day a peasant took his good hazel-stick out of the corner
and said to his wife, trina, I am going across country, and
shall not return for three days.  If during that time the
cattle-dealer should happen to call and want to buy our three
cows, you may strike a bargain at once, but not unless you can
get two hundred talers for them, nothing less, do you hear.  For
heaven's sake, just go in peace, answered the woman, I will
manage that.  You, indeed, said the man.  You once fell on your
head when you were a little child, and that affects you even now,
but let me tell you this, if you do anything foolish, I will
make your back black and blue, and not with paint, I assure
you, but with the stick which I have in my hand, and the coloring
shall last a whole year, you may rely on that.  And having said
that, the man went on his way.

Next morning the cattle-dealer came, and the woman had no
need to say many words to him.  When he had seen the cows and heard
the price, he said, I am quite willing to give that.  Honestly
speaking, they are worth it.  I will take the beasts away with
me at once.  He unfastened their chains and drove them out of
the byre, but just as he was going out of the yard-door, the
woman clutched him by the sleeve and said, you must give me the
two hundred talers now, or I cannot let the cows go.  True, answered the man,
but I have forgotten to buckle on my money-belt.  Have no fear,
however, you shall have security for my paying.  I will take two
cows with me and leave one, and then you will have a good pledge.

The woman saw the force of this, and let the man go away
with the cows, and thought to herself, how pleased Hans will be
when he finds how cleverly I have managed it.  The peasant came
home on the third day as he had said he would, and at once inquired
if the cows were sold.  Yes, indeed, dear Hans, answered the
woman, and as you said, for two hundred talers.  They are scarcely
worth so much, but the man took them without making any objection.
Where is the money, asked the peasant.  Oh, I have not got the
money, replied the woman, he had happened to forget his money-belt,
but he will soon bring it, and he left good security behind him.
What kind of security, asked the man.  One of the three cows, which
he shall not have until he has paid for the other two.  I have
managed very cunningly, for I have kept the smallest, which eats
the least.  The man was enraged and lifted up his stick, and was
just going to give her the beating he had promised her, when
suddenly he let the stick fail and said, you
are the stupidest goose that ever waddled on God's earth, but
I am sorry for you.  I will go out into the highways and wait for
three days to see if I find anyone who is still stupider than you.
If I succeed in doing so, you shall go scot-free, but if I do not
find him, you shall receive your well-deserved reward without any
discount.

He went out into the great highways, sat down on a stone, and
waited for what would happen.  Then he saw a peasant's waggon
coming towards him, and a woman was standing upright in the
middle of it, instead of sitting on the bundle of straw which
was lying beside her, or walking near the oxen and leading them.

The man thought to himself, that is certainly one of the kind I
am in search of, and jumped up and ran backwards and forwards in
front of the waggon like one who is not in his right mind.  What
do you want, my friend, said the woman to him.  I don't know you,
where do you come from.  I have fallen down from heaven, replied
the man, and don't know how to get back again, couldn't you drive
me up.  No, said the woman, I don't know the way, but if you come
from heaven you can surely tell me how my husband is, who has been
there these three years.  You must have seen him.  Oh, yes, I
have seen him, but all men can't get on well.  He keeps sheep,
and the sheep give him a great deal to do.  They run up the
mountains and lose their way in the wilderness, and he has to run
after them and drive them together again.  His clothes are
all torn to pieces too, and will soon fall off his body.  There is
no tailor there, for saint peter won't let any of them in, as you
know by the story.  Who would have thought it, cried the woman, I
tell you what, I will fetch his sunday coat which is still hanging
at home in the cupboard.  He can wear that and look respectable.
You will be so kind as to take it with you.  That won't do very
well, answered the peasant, people are not allowed to take clothes
into heaven, they are taken away at the gate.  Then listen, said
the woman, I sold my fine wheat yesterday and got a good lot of
money for it, I will send that to him.  If you hide the purse in
your pocket, no one will know that you have it.  If you can't
manage it any other way, said the peasant, I will do you that
favor.  Just
sit still where you are, said she, and I will drive home and fetch
the purse, I shall soon be back again.  I do not sit down on the
bundle of straw, but stand up in the waggon, because it makes it
lighter for the cattle.

She drove her oxen away, and the peasant
thought, that woman has a perfect talent for folly, if she really
brings the money, my wife may think herself fortunate, for she
will get no beating.  It was not long before she came in a great
hurry with the money, and with her own hands put it in his pocket.
Before she went away, she thanked him again a thousand times for
his courtesy.

When the woman got home again, she found her son who had come in
from the field.  She told him what unexpected things had befallen
her, and then added, I am truly delighted at having found an
opportunity of sending something to my poor husband.  Who would
ever have imagined that he could be suffering for want of anything
up in heaven.  The son was full of astonishment.  Mother, said he,
it is not every day that a man comes from heaven in this way, I
will go out immediately, and see if he is still to be found, he
must tell me what it is like up there, and how the work is done.

He saddled the horse and rode off with all speed.  He found the
peasant who was sitting under a willow-tree, and was about to
count the money in the purse.  Have you seen the man who has
fallen down from heaven, cried the youth to him.  Yes, answered the
peasant, he has set out on his way back there, and has gone up
that hill, from whence it will be rather nearer, you could still
catch him up, if you were to ride fast.  Alas, said the youth, I
have been doing tiring work all day, and the ride here has
completely worn me out, you know the man, be so kind as to get on
my horse, and go and persuade him to come here.  Aha, thought the
peasant, here is another who has not a brain in his head.  Why
should I not do you this favor, said he, and mounted the horse and
rode off at a quick trot.  The youth remained sitting there till
night fell, but the peasant never came back.  The man from heaven
must certainly have been in a great hurry, and would not turn back,
thought he, and the peasant has no doubt given
him the horse to take to my father.  He went home and told his
mother what had happened, and that he had sent his father the
horse so that he might not have to be always running about.  You
have done well, answered she, your legs are younger than his, and
you can go on foot.

When the peasant got home, he put the horse in the stable beside
the cow which he had as a pledge, and then went to his wife and
said, trina, as your luck would have it, I have found two who
are still sillier fools than you, this time you escape without
a beating.  I will store it up for another occasion.  Then he
lighted his pipe, sat down in his grandfather's chair, and said,
it was a good stroke of business to get a sleek horse and a great
purse full of money into the bargain, for two lean cows.  If
stupidity always brought in as much as that, I would be quite
willing to hold it in honor.  So thought the peasant, but you
no doubt prefer simpletons.
There was once a little child whose mother gave her every
afternoon a small bowl of milk and bread, and the child seated
herself in the yard with it.  But when she began to eat,
a paddock came creeping out of a crevice in the wall, dipped its
little head in the dish, and ate with her.  The child took pleasure
in this, and when she was sitting there with her little dish and
the paddock did not come at once, she cried,
               paddock, paddock, come swiftly
               hither come, thou tiny thing,
               thou shalt have thy crumbs of bread,
               thou shalt refresh thyself with milk.

Then the paddock came in haste, and enjoyed its food.  It even
showed gratitude, for it brought the child all kinds of pretty
things from its hidden treasures, bright stones, pearls, and golden
playthings.  The paddock, however, drank only the milk, and left
the bread-crumbs alone.  Then one day the child took its little
spoon and struck the paddock gently on its head, and said, eat the
bread-crumbs as well, little thing.  The mother, who was standing
in the kitchen, heard the child talking to someone, and when she
saw that she was striking a paddock with her spoon, ran out with
a log of wood, and killed the good little creature.

From that time forth, a change came over the child.  As long as
the paddock had eaten with her, she had grown tall and strong, but
now she lost her pretty rosy cheeks and wasted away.  It was not
long before the funeral bird began to cry in the night, and the
redbreast to collect little branches and leaves for a funeral
wreath and soon afterwards the child lay on her bier.

                         II
An orphan child was sitting by the town walls spinning, when she
saw a paddock coming out of a hole low down in the wall.  Swiftly
she spread out beside it one of the blue silk handkerchiefs for
which paddocks have such a strong liking, and which are the only
things they will creep on.  As soon as the paddock saw it, it
went back, then returned, bringing with it a small golden crown,
laid it on the handkerchief, and then went away again.  The girl took
up the crown, which glittered and was of delicate golden filagree
work.  It was not long before the paddock came back for the second
time, but when it did not see the crown any more, it crept up
to the wall, and in its grief smote its little head against it
as long as it had strength to do so, until at last it lay there
dead.  If the girl had but left the crown where it was, the paddock
would certainly have brought still more of its treasures out of
the hole.

                         III
The paddock cries, huhu, huhu.  The child says, come out.  The
paddock comes out, whereupon the child inquires about her little
sister, have you not seen little red-stockings.  The paddock says,
no, I have not.  Have you.  Huhu, huhu, huhu.
In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child,
and three apprentices served under him.  As they had been with him
several years, he one day said to them, "I am old, and want to sit
behind the stove.  Go out, and whichsoever of you brings me the best
horse home, to him will I give the mill, and in return for it he
shall take care of me till my death."

The third of the boys, however, was the dunce, who was looked on as
foolish by the others, they begrudged the mill to him, and afterwards
he would not even have it.  Then all three went out together, and
when they came to the village, the two said to stupid Hans, "You may
just as well stay here, as long as you live you will never get a
horse." Hans, however, went with them, and when it was night they
came to a cave in which they lay down to sleep.  The two smart ones
waited until Hans had fallen asleep, then they got up, and went away
leaving him where he was.  And they thought they had done a very
clever thing, but it was certain to turn out ill for them.

When the sun rose, and Hans woke up, he was lying in a deep cavern.
He looked around on every side and exclaimed, "Oh, heavens, where am
I?" Then he got up and clambered out of the cave, went into the
forest, and thought, "Here I am quite alone and deserted, how shall I
obtain a horse now?" Whilst he was thus walking full of thought, he
met a small tabby-cat which said quite kindly, "Hans, where are you
going?" "Alas, you can not help me." "I well know your desire," said
the cat.  "You wish to have a beautiful horse.  Come with me, and be
my faithful servant for seven years long, and then I will give you
one more beautiful than any you have ever seen in your whole life."
"Well, this is a strange cat," thought Hans, "But I am determined to
see if she is telling the truth."

So she took him with her into her enchanted castle, where there were
nothing but kittens who were her servants.  They leapt nimbly
upstairs and downstairs, and were merry and happy.  In the evening
when they sat down to dinner, three of them had to make music.  One
played the bass viol, the other the fiddle, and the third put the
trumpet to his lips, and blew out his cheeks as much as he possibly
could.  When they had dined, the table was carried away, and the cat
said, "Now, Hans, come and dance with me." "No," said he, "I won't
dance with a pussy cat.  I have never done that yet." "Then take him
to bed," said she to the cats.  So one of them lighted him to his
bed-room, one pulled his shoes off, one his stockings, and at last
one of them blew out the candle.  Next morning they returned and
helped him out of bed, one put his stockings on for him, one tied his
garters, one brought his shoes, one washed him, and one dried his
face with her tail.  "That feels very soft," said Hans.

He, however, had to serve the cat, and chop some wood every day, and
to do that, he had an axe of silver, and the wedge and saw were of
silver and the mallet of copper.  So he chopped the wood small,
stayed there in the house and had good meat and drink, but never saw
anyone but the tabby-cat and her servants.  Once she said to him, "Go
and mow my meadow, and dry the grass," and gave him a scythe of
silver, and a whetstone of gold, but bade him deliver them up again
carefully.  So Hans went thither, and did what he was bidden, and
when he had finished the work, he carried the scythe, whetstone, and
hay to the house, and asked if it was not yet time for her to give
him his reward.  "No," said the cat, "you must first do something
more for me of the same kind.  There is timber of silver, carpenter's
axe, square, and everything that is needful, all of silver - with
these build me a small house." Then Hans built the small house, and
said that he had now done everything, and still he had no horse.

Nevertheless the seven years had gone by with him as if they were six
months.  The cat asked him if he would like to see her horses. "Yes,"
said Hans.  Then she opened the door of the small house, and when she
had opened it, there stood twelve horses, - such horses, so bright
and shining, that his heart rejoiced at the sight of them.  And now
she gave him to eat and drink, and said, "Go home, I will not give
you your horse now, but in three days, time I will follow you and
bring it." So Hans set out, and she showed him the way to the mill.

She, however, had never once given him a new coat, and he had been
obliged to keep on his dirty old smock, which he had brought with
him, and which during the seven years had everywhere become too small
for him.  When he reached home, the two other apprentices were there
again as well, and each of them certainly had brought a horse with
him, but one of them was a blind one, and the other lame.  They asked
Hans where his horse was.  "It will follow me in three days, time."
Then they laughed and said, "Indeed, stupid Hans, where will you get
a horse?" "It will be a fine one." Hans went into the parlor, but the
miller said he should not sit down to table, for he was so ragged and
torn, that they would all be ashamed of him if any one came in.  So
they gave him a mouthful of food outside, and at night, when they
went to rest, the two others would not let him have a bed, and at
last he was forced to creep into the goose-house, and lie down on a
little hard straw.

In the morning when he awoke, the three days had passed, and a coach
came with six horses and they shone so bright that it was delightful
to see them - and a servant brought a seventh as well, which was for
the poor miller's boy.  And a magnificent princess alighted from the
coach and went into the mill, and this princess was the little
tabby-cat whom poor Hans had served for seven years.  She asked the
miller where the miller's boy and dunce was.  Then the miller said,
"We cannot have him here in the mill, for he is so ragged, he is
lying in the goose-house." Then the king's daughter said that they
were to bring him immediately.  So they brought him out, and he had
to hold his little smock together to cover himself.  The servants
unpacked splendid garments, and washed him and dressed him, and when
that was done, no king could have looked more handsome.  Then the
maiden desired to see the horses which the other apprentices had
brought home with them, and one of them was blind and the other lame.
So she ordered the servant to bring the seventh horse, and when the
miller saw it, he said that such a horse as that had never yet
entered his yard. "And that is for the third miller's boy," said she.
"Then he must have the mill," said the miller, but the king's
daughter said that the horse was there, and that he was to keep his
mill as well, and took her faithful Hans and set him in the coach,
and drove away with him.

They first drove to the little house which he had built with the
silver tools, and behold it was a great castle, and everything inside
it was of silver and gold, and then she married him, and he was rich,
so rich that he had enough for all the rest of his life.  After this,
let no one ever say that anyone who is silly can never become a
person of importance.
Hill and vale do not meet, but the children of men do, good and bad.
In this way a shoemaker and a tailor once met on their travels.  The
tailor was a handsome little fellow who was always merry and full of
enjoyment.  He saw the shoemaker coming towards him from the other
side, and as he observed by his bag what kind of a trade he plied, he
sang a little mocking song to him,
     sew me the seam,
     draw me the thread,
     spread it over with pitch,
     knock the nail on the head.

The shoemaker, however, could not bear a joke, he pulled a face as if
he had drunk vinegar, and made a gesture as if he were about to seize
the tailor by the throat.  But the little fellow began to laugh,
reached him his bottle, and said, "No harm was meant, take a drink,
and swallow your anger down." The shoemaker took a very hearty drink,
and the storm on his face began to clear away. He gave the bottle
back to the tailor, and said, "I took a hearty gulp, they say it
comes from much drinking, but not from great thirst.  Shall we travel
together?" "All right," answered the tailor, "if only it suits you to
go into a big town where there is no lack of work." "That is just
where I want to go," answered the shoemaker.  "In a small hamlet
there is nothing to earn, and in the country, people like to go
barefoot." They traveled therefore onwards together, and always set
one foot before the other like a weasel in the snow.

Both of them had time enough, but little to bite and to break. When
they reached a town they went about and paid their respects to the
tradesmen, and because the tailor looked so lively and merry, and had
such fine red cheeks, every one gave him work willingly, and when
luck was good the master's daughters gave him a kiss beneath the
porch, as well.  When he again fell in with the shoemaker, the tailor
had always the most in his bundle. The ill-tempered shoemaker made a
wry face, and thought, the greater the rascal the more the luck.  But
the tailor began to laugh and to sing, and shared all he got with his
comrade.  If a couple of pence jingled in his pockets, he ordered
good cheer, and thumped the table in his joy till the glasses danced
and it was lightly come, lightly go, with him.

When they had traveled for some time, they came to a great forest
through which passed the road to the capital.  Two foot-paths,
however, led through it, one of which was a seven days, journey and
the other only two, but neither of the travelers knew which way was
the short one.  They seated themselves beneath an oak-tree, and took
counsel together how they should forecast, and for how many days they
should provide themselves with bread.

The shoemaker said, "One must look before one leaps, I will take with
me bread for a week." "What," said the tailor, "drag bread for seven
days on one's back like a beast of burden and not be able to look
about?  I shall trust in God, and not trouble myself about anything.
The money I have in my pocket is as good in summer as in winter, but
in hot weather bread gets dry, and moldy into the bargain, even my
coat does not last as far as it might.  Besides, why should we not
find the right way?  Bread for two days, and that's enough." Each,
therefore, bought his own bread, and then they tried their luck in
the forest.

It was as quiet there as in a church.  No wind stirred, no brook
murmured, no bird sang, and through the thickly-leaved branches no
sunbeam forced its way.  The shoemaker spoke never a word, the bread
weighed so heavily on his back that the sweat streamed down his cross
and gloomy face.  The tailor, however, was quite merry, he jumped
about, whistled on a leaf, or sang a song, and thought to himself,
God in heaven must be pleased to see me so happy.

This lasted two days, but on the third the forest would not come to
an end, and the tailor had eaten up all his bread, so after all his
heart sank down a yard deeper.  Nevertheless, he did not lose
courage, but relied on God and on his luck.  On the evening of the
third day he lay down hungry under a tree, and rose again next
morning hungry still, so also passed the fourth day, and when the
shoemaker seated himself on a fallen tree and devoured his dinner the
tailor was only a spectator.  If he begged for a little piece of
bread, the other laughed mockingly, and said, "You have always been
so merry, now you can see for once what it is to be sad, the birds
which sing too early in the morning are struck by the hawk in the
evening." In short, he was pitiless.  But on the fifth morning the
poor tailor could no longer stand up, and was hardly able to utter
one word for weakness, his cheeks were white, and his eyes were red.
Then the shoemaker said to him, "I will give you a bit of bread
to-day, but in return for it, I will put out your right eye." The
unhappy tailor who still wished to save his life, had to submit, he
wept once more with both eyes, and then held them out, and the
shoemaker, who had a heart of stone, put out his right eye with a
sharp knife.  The tailor called to remembrance what his mother had
formerly said to him when he had been eating secretly in the pantry.
Eat what one can, and suffer what one must.  When he had consumed his
dearly-bought bread, he got on his legs again, forgot his misery and
comforted himself with the thought that he could always see enough
with one eye.

But on the sixth day, hunger made itself felt again and gnawed him
almost to the heart.  In the evening he fell down by a tree, and on
the seventh morning he could not raise himself up for faintness, and
death was close at hand.  Then said the shoemaker, "I will show mercy
and give you bread once more, but you shall not have it for nothing,
I shall put out your other eye for it."

And now the tailor felt how thoughtless his life had been, prayed to
God for forgiveness, and said, "Do what you will, I will bear what I
must, but remember that our Lord God does not always look on
passively, and that an hour will come when the evil deed which you
have done to me, and which I have not deserved of you, will be
requited.  When times were good with me, I shared what I had with
you.  My trade is of that kind that each stitch must always be
exactly like the other.  If I no longer have my eyes and can sew no
more I must go a-begging.  At any rate do not leave me here alone
when I am blind, or I shall die of hunger." The shoemaker, however,
who had driven God out of his heart, took the knife and put out his
left eye.  Then he gave him a bit of bread to eat, held out a stick
to him, and drew him on behind him.

When the sun went down, they got out of the forest, and before them
in the open country stood the gallows.  Thither the shoemaker guided
the blind tailor, and then left him alone and went his way.
Weariness, pain, and hunger made the wretched man fall asleep, and he
slept the whole night.  When day dawned he awoke, but knew not where
he lay.  Two poor sinners were hanging on the gallows, and a crow sat
on the head of each of them.  Then one of the men who had been hanged
began to speak, and said, "Brother, are you awake?" "Yes, I am
awake," answered the second.  "Then I will tell you something," said
the first, "the dew which this night has fallen down over us from the
gallows, gives every one who washes himself with it his eyes again.
If blind people did but know this, how many would regain their sight
who do not believe that to be possible."

When the tailor heard that, he took his pocket-handkerchief, pressed
it on the grass, and when it was moist with dew, washed the sockets
of his eyes with it.  Immediately was fulfilled what the man on the
gallows had said, and a couple of healthy new eyes filled the
sockets.  It was not long before the tailor saw the sun rise behind
the mountains, in the plain before him lay the great royal city with
its magnificent gates and hundred towers, and the golden balls and
crosses which were on the spires began to shine.  He could
distinguish every leaf on the trees, saw the birds which flew past,
and the midges which danced in the air. He took a needle out of his
pocket, and as he could thread it as well as ever he had done, his
heart danced with delight.  He threw himself on his knees, thanked
God for the mercy he had shown him, and said his morning prayer.  Nor
did he forget to pray for the poor sinners who were hanging there
swinging against each other in the wind like the pendulums of clocks.
Then he took his bundle on his back and soon forgot the pain of heart
he had endured, and went on his way singing and whistling.

The first thing he met was a brown foal running about the fields at
large.  He caught it by the mane, and wanted to spring on it and ride
into the town.  The foal, however, begged to be set free.  "I am
still too young," it said, "even a light tailor such as you are would
break my back in two - let me go till I have grown strong.  A time
may perhaps come when I may reward you for it." "Run off," said the
tailor, "I see you are still a giddy thing." He gave it a touch with
a switch over its back, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy,
leapt over hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open
country.

But the little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. The sun
to be sure fills my eyes, said he, but the bread does not fill my
mouth.  The first thing that comes my way and is even half edible
will have to suffer for it.  In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly
over the meadow towards him.  "Halt, halt," cried the tailor, and
seized him by the leg.  "I don't know if you are good to eat or not,
but my hunger leaves me no great choice.  I must cut your head off,
and roast you." "Don't do that," replied the stork, "I am a sacred
bird which brings mankind great profit, and no one does me an injury.
Leave me my life, and I may do you good in some other way." "Well, be
off, cousin longlegs," said the tailor.  The stork rose up, let its
long legs hang down, and flew gently away.

"What's to be the end of this," said the tailor to himself at last,
"my hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more
empty.  Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost." At this point he saw
a couple of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards
him.  "You come just at the right moment," said he, and laid hold of
one of them and was about to wring its neck.  On this an old duck
which was hidden among the reeds, began to scream loudly, and swam to
him with open beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear
children.  "Can you not imagine," said she, "how your mother would
mourn if any one wanted to carry you off, and give you your finishing
stroke." "Just be quiet," said the good-tempered tailor, "you shall
keep your children," and put the prisoner back into the water.

When he turned round, he was standing in front of an old tree which
was partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it.
"There I shall at once find the reward of my good deed," said the
tailor, "the honey will refresh me." But the queen-bee came out,
threatened him and said, "If you touch my people and destroy my nest,
our stings shall pierce your skin like ten thousand red-hot needles.
But if you leave us in peace and go your way, we will do you a
service for it another time."

The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. Three
dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner.  He dragged
himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town, and as
it was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn,
and he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied
he said, "Now I will get to work." He went round the town, sought a
master, and soon found a good situation. And as he had thoroughly
learnt his trade, it was not long before he became famous, and every
one wanted to have his new coat made by the little tailor, whose
importance increased daily.  "I can go no further in skill," said he,
"and yet things improve every day." At last the king appointed him
court-tailor.

But what odd things do happen in the world.  On the very same day his
former comrade the shoemaker also became court-shoemaker. When the
latter caught sight of the tailor, and saw that he had once more two
healthy eyes, his conscience troubled him.  "Before he takes revenge
on me," thought he to himself, "I must dig a pit for him." He,
however, who digs a pit for another, falls into it himself.  In the
evening when work was over and it had grown dusk, he stole to the
king and said, "Lord king, the tailor is an arrogant fellow and has
boasted that he will get the golden crown back again which was lost
in ancient times." "That would please me very much," said the king,
and he caused the tailor to be brought before him next morning, and
ordered him to get the crown back again, or to leave the town for
ever.  "Oho," thought the tailor, "a rogue gives more than he has
got.  If the surly king wants me to do what can be done by no one, I
will not wait till morning, but will go out of the town at once,
to-day."

He packed up his bundle, therefore, but when he was without the gate
he could not help being sorry to give up his good fortune, and turn
his back on the town in which all had gone so well with him.  He came
to the pond where he had made the acquaintance of the ducks, at that
very moment the old one whose young ones he had spared, was sitting
there by the shore, pluming herself with her beak. She knew him again
instantly, and asked why he was hanging his head so.  "You will not
be surprised when you hear what has befallen me," replied the tailor,
and told her his fate.  "If that be all," said the duck, "we can help
you.  The crown fell into the water, and it lies down below at the
bottom, we will soon bring it up again for you.  In the meantime just
spread out your handkerchief on the bank." She dived down with her
twelve young ones, and in five minutes she was up again and sat with
the crown resting on her wings, and the twelve young ones were
swimming round about and had put their beaks under it, and were
helping to carry it. They swam to the shore and put the crown on the
handkerchief. No one can imagine how magnificent the crown was, when
the sun shone on it, it gleamed like a hundred thousand carbuncles.
The tailor tied his handkerchief together by the four corners, and
carried it to the king, who was full of joy, and put a gold chain
round the tailor's neck.

When the shoemaker saw that one blow had failed, he contrived a
second, and went to the king and said, "Lord king, the tailor has
become insolent again, he boasts that he will copy in wax the whole
of the royal palace, with everything that pertains to it, loose or
fast, inside and out." The king sent for the tailor and ordered him
to copy in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that
pertained to it, movable or immovable, within and without, and if he
did not succeed in doing this, or if so much as one nail on the wall
were wanting, he should be imprisoned for his whole life underground.

The tailor thought, "It gets worse and worse.  No one can endure
that," and threw his bundle on his back, and went forth.  When he
came to the hollow tree, he sat down and hung his head.  The bees
came flying out, and the queen-bee asked him if he had a stiff neck,
since he hung his head so.  "Alas, no," answered the tailor,
"something quite different weighs me down," and he told her what the
king had demanded of him.  The bees began to buzz and hum amongst
themselves, and the queen-bee said, "Just go home again, but come
back to-morrow at this time, and bring a large sheet with you, and
then all will be well." So he turned back again, but the bees flew to
the royal palace and straight into it through the open windows, crept
round about into every corner, and inspected everything most
carefully.  Then they hurried back and modelled the palace in wax
with such rapidity that any one looking on would have thought it was
growing before his eyes.  By the evening all was ready, and when the
tailor came next morning, the whole of the splendid building was
there, and not one nail in the wall or tile of the roof was wanting,
and it was delicate withal, and white as snow, and smelt sweet as
honey.  The tailor wrapped it carefully in his cloth and took it to
the king, who could not admire it enough, placed it in his largest
hall, and in return for it presented the tailor with a large stone
house.

The shoemaker, however, did not give up, but went for the third time
to the king and said, "Lord king, it has come to the tailor's ears
that no water will spring up in the court-yard of the castle and he
has boasted that it shall rise up in the midst of the court-yard to a
man's height and be clear as crystal." Then the king ordered the
tailor to be brought before him and said, "If a stream of water does
not rise in my court-yard by to-morrow as you have promised, the
executioner shall in that very place make you shorter by a head." The
poor tailor did not take long to think about it, but hurried out to
the gate, and because this time it was a matter of life and death to
him, tears rolled down his face.

While he was thus going forth full of sorrow, the foal to which he
had formerly given its liberty, and which had now become a beautiful
chestnut horse, came leaping towards him.  "The time has come," it
said to the tailor, "when I can repay you for your good deed.  I know
already what is needful to you, but you shall soon have help, get on
me, my back can carry two such as you." The tailor's courage came
back to him, he jumped up in one bound, and the horse went full speed
into the town, and right up to the court-yard of the castle. It
galloped as quick as lightning thrice round it, and at the third time
it fell violently down.  At the same instant, however, there was a
terrific clap of thunder, a fragment of earth in the middle of the
court-yard sprang like a cannon-ball into the air, and over the
castle, and directly after it a jet of water rose as high as a man on
horseback, and the water was as pure as crystal, and the sunbeams
began to dance on it.  When the king saw this, he arose in amazement,
and went and embraced the tailor in the sight of all men.

But good fortune did not last long.  The king had daughters in
plenty, one still prettier than the other, but he had no son. So the
malicious shoemaker betook himself for the fourth time to the king,
and said, "Lord king, the tailor has not given up his arrogance.  He
has now boasted that if he liked, he could cause a son to be brought
to the lord king through the air." The king commanded the tailor to
be summoned, and said, "If you cause a son to be brought to me within
nine days, you shall have my eldest daughter to wife." "The reward is
indeed great," thought the little tailor, "one would willingly do
something for it, but the cherries grow too high for me, if I climb
for them, the bough will break beneath me, and I shall fall."

He went home, seated himself cross-legged on his work-table, and
thought over what was to be done.  "It can't be managed," cried he at
last, "I will go away, after all, I can't live in peace here." He
tied up his bundle and hurried away to the gate.  When he got to the
meadow, he perceived his old friend the stork, who was walking
backwards and forwards like a philosopher.  Sometimes he stood still,
took a frog into close consideration, and at length swallowed it
down.  The stork came to him and greeted him.  "I see," he began,
"that you have your pack on your back.  Why are you leaving the
town?" The tailor told him what the king had required of him, and how
he could not perform it, and lamented his misfortune. "Don't let that
turn your hair grey," said the stork, "I will help you out of your
difficulty.  For a long time now, I have carried the children in
swaddling-clothes into the town, so for once in a way, I can fetch a
little prince out of the well.  Go home and be easy.  In nine days
from this time repair to the royal palace, and there will I come."
The little tailor went home, and at the appointed time was at the
castle.  It was not long before the stork came flying thither and
tapped at the window.  The tailor opened it, and cousin longlegs came
carefully in, and walked with solemn steps over the smooth marble
pavement.  He had, moreover, a baby in his beak that was as lovely as
an angel, and stretched out its little hands to the queen.  The stork
laid it in her lap, and she caressed it and kissed it, and was beside
herself with delight.  Before the stork flew away, he took his
traveling bag off his back and handed it over to the queen.  In it
there were little paper parcels with colored sweetmeats, and they
were divided amongst the little princesses.  The eldest, however,
received none of them, but instead got the merry tailor for a
husband.  "It seems to me," said he, "just as if I had won the
highest prize.  My mother was if right after all, she always said
that whoever trusts in God and only has good luck, can never fail."

The shoemaker had to make the shoes in which the little tailor danced
at the wedding festival, after which he was commanded to quit the
town for ever.  The road to the forest led him to the gallows.  Worn
out with anger, rage, and the heat of the day, he threw himself down.
When he had closed his eyes and was about to sleep, the two crows
flew down from the heads of the men who were hanging there, and
pecked his eyes out.  In his madness he ran into the forest and must
have died there of hunger, for no one has ever either seen him or
heard of him again.
	Hans the Hedgehog

There was once a country man who had money and land in plenty, but
however rich he was, his happiness was still lacking in one respect -
he had no children.  Often when he went into the town with the other
peasants they mocked him and asked why he had no children.  At last
he became angry, and when he got home he said, "I will have a child,
even if it be a hedgehog." Then his wife had a child that was a
hedgehog in the upper part of his body and a boy in the lower, and
when she saw the child, she was terrified, and said, "See, there you
have brought ill-luck on us." Then said the man, "What can be done
now?  The boy must be christened, but we shall not be able to get a
godfather for him." The woman said, "And we cannot call him anything
else but Hans the hedgehog."

When he was christened, the parson said, "He cannot go into any
ordinary bed because of his spikes." So a little straw was put behind
the stove, and Hans the hedgehog was laid on it.  His mother could
not suckle him, for he would have pricked her with his quills.  So he
lay there behind the stove for eight years, and his father was tired
of him and thought, if he would but die.  He did not die, however,
but remained lying there.

Now it happened that there was a fair in the town, and the peasant
was about to go to it, and asked his wife what he should bring back
with him for her.  "A little meat and a couple of white rolls which
are wanted for the house," said she.  Then he asked the servant, and
she wanted a pair of slippers and some stockings with clocks. At last
he said also, "And what will you have, Hans my hedgehog?" "Dear
father," he said, "do bring me bagpipes." When, therefore, the father
came home again, he gave his wife what he had bought for her, meat
and white rolls, and then he gave the maid the slippers, and the
stockings with clocks, and, lastly, he went behind the stove, and
gave Hans the hedgehog the bagpipes.

And when Hans the hedgehog had the bagpipes, he said, "Dear father,
do go to the forge and get the cock shod, and then I will ride away,
and never come back again." At this, the father was delighted to
think that he was going to get rid of him, and had the cock shod for
him, and when it was done, Hans the hedgehog got on it, and rode
away, but took swine and asses with him which he intended to keep in
the forest.  When they got there he made the cock fly on to a high
tree with him, and there he sat for many a long year, and watched his
asses and swine until the herd was quite large, and his father knew
nothing about him.  And while he was sitting in the tree, he played
his bagpipes, and made music which was very beautiful.

Once a king came traveling by who had lost his way and heard the
music.  He was astonished at it, and sent his servant forth to look
all round and see from whence this music came.  He spied about, but
saw nothing but a little animal sitting up aloft on the tree, which
looked like a cock with a hedgehog on it which made this music.  Then
the king told the servant he was to ask why he sat there, and if he
knew the road which led to his kingdom.  So Hans the hedgehog
descended from the tree, and said he would show the way if the king
would write a bond and promise him whatever he first met in the royal
courtyard as soon as he arrived at home.  Then the king thought, I
can easily do that, Hans the hedgehog understands nothing, and I can
write what I like.  So the king took pen and ink and wrote something,
and when he had done it, Hans the hedgehog showed him the way, and he
got safely home.  But his daughter, when she saw him from afar, was
so overjoyed that she ran to meet him, and kissed him.  Then he
remembered Hans the hedgehog, and told her what had happened, and
that he had been forced to promise whatsoever first met him when he
got home, to a very strange animal which sat on a cock as if it were
a horse, and made beautiful music, but that instead of writing that
he should have what he wanted, he had written that he should not have
it. Thereupon the princess was glad, and said he had done well, for
she never would have gone away with the hedgehog.

Hans the hedgehog, however, looked after his asses and pigs, and was
always merry and sat on the tree and played his bagpipes. Now it came
to pass that another king came journeying by with his attendants and
runner, and he also had lost his way, and did not know how to get
home again because the forest was so large.  He likewise heard the
beautiful music from a distance, and asked his runner what that could
be, and told him to go and see.  Then the runner went under the tree,
and saw the cock sitting at the top of it, and Hans the hedgehog on
the cock.  The runner asked him what he was doing up there.  I am
keeping my asses and my pigs, but what is your desire.  The messenger
said that they had lost their way, and could not get back into their
own kingdom, and asked if he would not show them the way.  Then Hans
the hedgehog descended the tree with the cock, and told the aged king
that he would show him the way, if he would give him for his own
whatsoever first met him in front of his royal palace.  The king
said, "Yes," and wrote a promise to Hans the hedgehog that he should
have this.  That done, Hans rode on before him on the cock, and
pointed out the way, and the king reached his kingdom again in
safety.  When he got to the courtyard, there were great rejoicings.
Now he had an only daughter who was very beautiful, she ran to meet
him, threw her arms round his neck, and was delighted to have her old
father back again.  She asked him where in the world he had been so
long.  So he told her how he had lost his way, and had very nearly
not come back at all, but that as he was traveling through a great
forest, a creature, half hedgehog, half man, who was sitting astride
a cock in a high tree, and making music, had shown him the way and
helped him to get out, but that in return he had promised him
whatsoever first met him in the royal court-yard, and how that was
she herself, which made him unhappy now.  But on this she promised
that, for love of her father, she would willingly go with this Hans
if he came.

Hans the hedgehog, however, took care of his pigs, and the pigs
became more pigs until there were so many in number that the whole
forest was filled with them.  Then Hans the hedgehog resolved not to
live in the forest any longer, and sent word to his father to have
every stye in the village emptied, for he was coming with such a
great herd that all might kill who wished to do so.  When his father
heard that, he was troubled, for he thought Hans the hedgehog had
died long ago.  Hans the hedgehog, however, seated himself on the
cock, and drove the pigs before him into the village, and ordered the
slaughter to begin.

Ha. - Then there was a butchery and a chopping that might have been
heard two miles off.  After this Hans the hedgehog said, "Father, let
me have the cock shod once more at the forge, and then I will ride
away and never come back as long as I live." Then the father had the
cock shod once more, and was pleased that Hans the hedgehog would
never return again.

Hans the hedgehog rode away to the first kingdom.  There the king had
commanded that whosoever came mounted on a cock and had bagpipes with
him should be shot at, cut down, or stabbed by everyone, so that he
might not enter the palace.  When, therefore, Hans the hedgehog came
riding thither, they all pressed forward against him with their
pikes, but he spurred the cock and it flew up over the gate in front
of the king's window and lighted there, and Hans cried that the king
must give him what he had promised, or he would take both his life
and his daughter's.  Then the king began to speak to his daughter,
and to beg her to go away with Hans in order to save her own life and
her father's.  So she dressed herself in white, and her father gave
her a carriage with six horses and magnificent attendants together
with gold and possessions.  She seated herself in the carriage, and
placed Hans the hedgehog beside her with the cock and the bagpipes,
and then they took leave and drove away, and the king thought he
should never see her again.  But he was deceived in his expectation
for when they were at a short distance from the town, Hans the
hedgehog took her pretty clothes off, and pierced her with his
hedgehog's spikes until she bled all over.  "That is the reward of
your falseness," said he. "Go your way, I will not have you," and on
that he chased her home again, and she was disgraced for the rest of
her life.

Hans the hedgehog, however, rode on further on the cock, with his
bagpipes, to the dominions of the second king to whom he had shown
the way.  But this one had arranged that if any one resembling Hans
the hedgehog should come, they were to present arms, give him safe
conduct, cry long life to him, and lead him to the royal palace.

But when the king's daughter saw him she was terrified, for he really
looked too strange.  Then she remembered that she could not change
her mind, for she had given her promise to her father. So Hans the
hedgehog was welcomed by her, and married to her, and had to go with
her to the royal table, and she seated herself by his side, and they
ate and drank.  When the evening came and they wanted to go to sleep,
she was afraid of his quills, but he told her she was not to fear,
for no harm would befall her, and he told the old king that he was to
appoint four men to watch by the door of the chamber, and light a
great fire, and when he entered the room and was about to get into
bed, he would creep out of his hedgehog's skin and leave it lying
there by the bedside, and that the men were to run nimbly to it,
throw it in the fire, and stay by it until it was consumed.

When the clock struck eleven, he went into the chamber, stripped off
the hedgehog's skin, and left it lying by the bed.  Then came the men
and fetched it swiftly, and threw it in the fire, and when the fire
had consumed it, he was saved, and lay there in bed in human form,
but he was coal-black as if he had been burnt.  The king sent for his
physician who washed him with precious salves, and anointed him, and
he became white, and was a handsome young man.  When the king's
daughter saw that she was glad, and the next morning they arose
joyfully, ate and drank, and then the marriage was properly
solemnized, and Hans the hedgehog received the kingdom from the aged
king.

When several years had passed he went with his wife to his father,
and said that he was his son.  The father, however, declared he had
no son - he had never had but one, and he had been born like a
hedgehog with spikes, and had gone forth into the world. Then Hans
made himself known, and the old father rejoiced and went with him to
his kingdom.
                    My tale is done,
                    and away it has run
                    to little augusta's house.
There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who
was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without
liking him, and she herself worshipped him above everything in the
world.  Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took
him to himself, and for this the mother could not be comforted and
wept both day and night.  But soon afterwards, when the child had
been buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and
played during its life, and if the mother wept, it wept also, and
when morning came it disappeared.  But as the mother would not stop
crying, it came one night, in the little white shroud in which it had
been laid in its coffin, and with its wreath of flowers round its
head, and stood on the bed at her feet, and said, "Oh, mother, do
stop crying, or I shall never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud
will not dry because of all your tears, which fall upon it." The
mother was afraid when she heard that, and wept no more.  The next
night the child came again, and held a little light in its hand, and
said, "Look, mother, my shroud is nearly dry, and I can rest in my
grave." Then the mother gave her sorrow into God's keeping, and bore
it quietly and patiently, and the child came no more, but slept in
its little bed beneath the earth.
There was once a young fellow who had learnt the trade of locksmith,
and told his father he would now go out into the world and seek his
fortune.  Very well, said the father, I am quite content with that,
and gave him some money for his journey.  So he traveled about and
looked for work.  After a time he resolved not to follow the trade of
locksmith any more, for he no longer liked it, but he took a fancy
for hunting.

Then there met him in his rambles a huntsman dressed in green, who
asked whence he came and whither he was going.  The youth said he was
a locksmith's apprentice, but that the trade no longer pleased him,
and he had a liking for huntsmanship, would he teach it to him.  "Oh,
yes," said the huntsman, "if you will go with me." Then the young
fellow went with him, apprenticed himself to him for some years, and
learnt the art of hunting.  After this he wished to try his luck
elsewhere, and the huntsman gave him nothing in the way of payment
but an air-gun, which had, however, this property, that it hit its
mark without fail whenever he shot with it.  Then he set out and
found himself in a very large forest, which he could not get to the
end of in one day.  When evening came he seated himself in a high
tree in order to escape from the wild beasts.

Towards midnight, it seemed to him as if a tiny little light
glimmered in the distance.  Then he looked down through the branches
towards it, and kept well in his mind where it was.  But in the first
place he took off his hat and threw it down in the direction of the
light, so that he might go to the hat as a mark when he had
descended.  He got down and went to his hat, put it on again and went
straight forwards.  The farther he went, the larger the light grew,
and when he got close to it he saw that it was an enormous fire, and
that three giants were sitting by it, who had an ox on the spit, and
were roasting it.  Presently one of them said, "I must just taste if
the meat will soon be fit to eat," and pulled a piece off, and was
about to put it in his mouth when the huntsman shot it out of his
hand.  "Well, really," said the giant, "if the wind has not blown the
bit out of my hand," and helped himself to another.  But when he was
just about to bite into it, the huntsman again shot it away from him.
On this the giant gave the one who was sitting next him a box on the
ear, and cried angrily, "Why are you snatching my piece away from
me?" "I have not snatched it away," said the other, "a sharpshooter
must have shot it away from you."

The giant took another piece, but again could not keep it in his
hand, for the huntsman shot it out.  Then the giant said, "That must
be a good shot to shoot the bit out of one's very mouth, such an one
would be useful to us." And he cried aloud, "Come here, you
sharpshooter, seat yourself at the fire beside us and eat your fill,
we will not hurt you, but if you will not come, and we have to bring
you by force, you are a lost man."

On this the youth went up to them and told them he was a skilled
huntsman, and that whatever he aimed at with his gun, he was certain
to hit.  Then they said if he would go with them he should be well
treated, and they told him that outside the forest there was a great
lake, behind which stood a tower, and in the tower was imprisoned a
lovely princess, whom they wished very much to carry off.  "Yes,"
said he, "I will soon get her for you." Then they added, "But there
is still something else, there is a tiny little dog, which begins to
bark directly any one goes near, and as soon as it barks every one in
the royal palace wakens up, and for this reason we cannot get there,
can you undertake to shoot it dead?" "Yes," said he, "that will be
quite fun for me." After this he got into a boat and rowed over the
lake, and as soon as he landed, the little dog came running out, and
was about to bark, but the huntsman took his airgun and shot it dead.

When the giants saw that, they rejoiced, and thought they already had
the king's daughter safe, but the huntsman wished first to see how
matters stood, and told them that they must stay outside until he
called them.  Then he went into the castle, and all was perfectly
quiet within, and every one was asleep.  When he opened the door of
the first room, a sword was hanging on the wall which was made of
pure silver, and there was a golden star on it, and the name of the
king, and on a table near it lay a sealed letter which he broke open,
and inside it was written that whosoever had the sword could kill
everything which opposed him.  So he took the sword from the wall,
hung it at his side and went onwards, then he entered the room where
the king's daughter was lying sleeping, and she was so beautiful that
he stood still and, holding his breath, looked at her.  He thought to
himself, "How can I give an innocent maiden into the power of the
wild giants, who have evil in their minds?" He looked about further,
and under the bed stood a pair of slippers, on the right one was her
father's name with a star, and on the left her own name with a star.
She wore also a large scarf of silk embroidered with gold, and on the
right side was her father's name, and on the left her own, all in
golden letters.  Then the huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut
the right corner off, and put it in his knapsack, and then he also
took the right slipper with the king's name, and thrust that in.  Now
the maiden still lay sleeping, and she was quite sewn into her
night-dress, and he cut a morsel from this also, and thrust it in
with the rest, but he did all without touching her.

Then he went forth and left her lying asleep undisturbed, and when he
came to the gate again, the giants were still standing outside
waiting for him, and expecting that he was bringing the princess.
But he cried to them that they were to come in, for the maiden was
already in their power, that he could not open the gate to them, but
there was a hole through which they must creep.  Then the first
approached, and the huntsman wound the giant's hair round his hand,
pulled the head in, and cut it off at one stroke with his sword, and
then drew the rest of him in.  He called to the second and cut his
head off likewise, and then he killed the third also, and he was well
pleased that he had freed the beautiful maiden from her enemies, and
he cut out their tongues and put them in his knapsack. Then thought
he, "I will go home to my father and let him see what I have already
done, and afterwards I will travel about the world, the luck which
God is pleased to grant me will easily find me."

But when the king in the castle awoke, he saw the three giants lying
there dead.  So he went into the sleeping-room of his daughter, awoke
her, and asked who could have killed the giants. Then said she, "Dear
father, I know not, I have been asleep." But when she arose and would
have put on her slippers, the right one was gone, and when she looked
at her scarf it was cut, and the right corner was missing, and when
she looked at her night-dress a piece was cut out of it.  The king
summoned his whole court together, soldiers and every one else who
was there, and asked who had set his daughter at liberty, and killed
the giants.

Now it happened that he had a captain, who was one-eyed and a hideous
man, and he said that he had done it.  Then the old king said that as
he had accomplished this, he should marry his daughter.  But the
maiden said, "Rather than marry him, dear father, I will go away into
the world as far as my legs can carry me." But the king said that if
she would not marry him she should take off her royal garments and
wear peasant's clothing, and go forth, and that she should go to a
potter, and begin a trade in earthen vessels.

So she put off her royal apparel, and went to a potter and borrowed
crockery enough for a stall, and she promised him also that if she
had sold it by the evening, she would pay for it. Then the king said
she was to seat herself in a corner with it and sell it, and he
arranged with some peasants to drive over it with their carts, so
that everything should be broken into a thousand pieces.  When
therefore the king's daughter had placed her stall in the street, by
came the carts, and broke all she had into tiny fragments.  She began
to weep and said, "Alas, how shall I ever pay for the pots now." The
king, however, had wished by this to force her to marry the captain;
but instead of that, she again went to the potter, and asked him if
he would lend to her once more.  He said, no, she must first pay for
what she already had.

Then she went to her father and cried and lamented, and said she
would go forth into the world.  Then said he, "I will have a little
hut built for you in the forest outside, and in it you shall stay all
your life long and cook for every one, but you shall take no money
for it." When the hut was ready, a sign was hung on the door whereon
was written, to-day given, to-morrow sold.  There she remained a long
time, and it was rumored about the world that a maiden was there who
cooked without asking for payment, and that this was set forth on a
sign outside her door.

The huntsman heard it likewise, and thought to himself, that would
suit you.  You are poor, and have no money.  So he took his air-gun
and his knapsack, wherein all the things which he had formerly
carried away with him from the castle as tokens of his truthfulness
were still lying, and went into the forest, and found the hut with
the sign, to-day given, to-morrow sold.  He had put on the sword with
which he had cut off the heads of the three giants, and thus entered
the hut, and ordered something to eat to be given to him.  He was
charmed with the beautiful maiden, who was indeed as lovely as any
picture.  She asked him whence he came and whither he was going, and
he said, "I am roaming about the world." Then she asked him where he
had got the sword, for that truly her father's name was on it.  He
asked her if she were the king's daughter.  "Yes," answered she.
"With this sword," said he, "did I cut off the heads of three
giants." And he took their tongues out of his knapsack in proof.
Then he also showed her the slipper, and the corner of the scarf, and
the piece of the night-dress.

Hereupon she was overjoyed, and said that he was the one who had
delivered her.  On this they went together to the old king, and
fetched him to the hut, and she led him into her room, and told him
that the huntsman was the man who had really set her free from the
giants.  And when the aged king saw all the proofs of this, he could
no longer doubt, and said that he was very glad he knew how
everything had happened, and that the huntsman should have her to
wife, on which the maiden was glad at heart.  Then she dressed the
huntsman as if he were a foreign lord, and the king ordered a feast
to be prepared.  When they went to table, the captain sat on the left
side of the king's daughter, but the huntsman was on the right, and
the captain thought he was a foreign lord who had come on a visit.
When they had eaten and drunk, the old king said to the captain that
he would set before him something which he must guess.  "Supposing
someone said that he had killed the three giants and he were asked
where the giants, tongues were, and he were forced to go and look,
and there were none in their heads.  How could that have happened?"
The captain said, "Then they cannot have had any." "Not so," said the
king.  "Every animal has a tongue," and then he likewise asked what
punishment should be meted out to anyone who made such an answer.
The captain replied, "He ought to be torn in pieces." Then the king
said he had pronounced his own sentence, and the captain was put in
prison and then torn in four pieces, but the king's daughter was
married to the huntsman. After this he brought his father and mother,
and they lived with their son in happiness, and after the death of
the old king he received the kingdom.
There was once upon a time a king who had a little boy in whose stars
it had been foretold that he should be killed by a stag when he was
sixteen years of age, and when he had reached that age the huntsmen
once went hunting with him.  In the forest, the king's son was
separated from the others, and all at once he saw a great stag which
he wanted to shoot, but could not hit.  At length he chased the stag
so far that they were quite out of the forest, and then suddenly a
great tall man was standing there instead of the stag, and said, "It
is well that I have you.  I have already ruined six pairs of glass
skates with running after you, and have not been able to reach you."

Then he took the king's son with him, and dragged him through a great
lake to a great palace, and he had to sit down to table with him and
eat something.  When they had eaten something together the king said,
"I have three daughters, you must keep watch over the eldest for one
night, from nine in the evening till six in the morning, and every
time the clock strikes, I will come myself and call, and if you then
give me no answer, to-morrow morning you shall be put to death, but
if you always give me an answer, you shall have her to wife."

When the young folks went to the bedroom there stood a stone image of
St. Christopher, and the king's daughter said to it, "My father will
come at nine o'clock, and every hour till it strikes three, when he
calls, give him an answer instead of the king's son." Then the stone
image of St. Christopher nodded its head quite quickly, and then more
and more slowly till at last it again stood still.  The next morning
the king said to him, "You have done the business well, but I cannot
give my daughter away. You must now watch a night by my second
daughter, and then I will consider with myself, whether you can have
my eldest daughter to wife, but I shall come every hour myself, and
when I call you, answer me, and if I call you and you do not reply,
your blood shall flow."

Then they both went into the sleeping-room, and there stood a still
larger stone image of St. Christopher, and the king's daughter said
to it, "If my father calls, answer him." Then the great stone image
of St. Christopher again nodded its head quite quickly and then more
and more slowly, until at last it stood still again.  And the king's
son lay down on the threshold, put his hand under his head and slept.
The next morning the king said to him, "You have done the business
really well, but I cannot give my daughter away, you must now watch a
night by the youngest princess, and then I will consider with myself
whether you can have my second daughter to wife.  But I shall come
every hour myself, and when I call you answer me, and if I call you
and you answer not, your blood shall flow for me."

Then they once more went to the sleeping-room together, and there was
a much greater and much taller image of St. Christopher than the two
first had been.  The king's daughter said to it, "When my father
calls, answer." Then the great tall stone image of St. Christopher
nodded quite half an hour with its head, until at length the head
stood still again.  And the king's son laid himself down on the
threshold of the door and slept.  The next morning the king said,
"You have indeed watched well, but I cannot give you my daughter now,
I have a great forest, if you cut it down for me between six o'clock
this morning and six at night, I will think about it."

Then he gave him a glass axe, a glass wedge, and a glass mallet.
When he got into the wood, he began at once to cut, but the axe broke
in two.  Then he took the wedge, and struck it once with the mallet,
and it became as short and as small as sand.  Then he was much
troubled and believed he would have to die, and sat down and wept.

Now when it was noon the king said, "One of you girls must take him
something to eat." "No," said the two eldest, "we will not take it to
him, the one by whom he last watched, can take him something." Then
the youngest was forced to go and take him something to eat.  When
she got into the forest, she asked him how he was getting on.  "Oh,"
said he, "I am getting on very badly." Then she said he was to come
and just eat a little. "Nay," said he, "I cannot do that, I have to
die anyway, so I will eat no more." Then she spoke so kindly to him
and begged him just to try, that he came and ate something.  When he
had eaten something she said, "I will pick your lice a while, and
then you will feel happier."

So she loused him, and he became weary and fell asleep, and then she
took her handkerchief and made a knot in it, and struck it three
times on the earth, and said, "Earth-workers, come forth." In a
moment, numbers of little earth-men came forth, and asked what the
king's daughter commanded.  Then said she, "In three hours, time the
great forest must be cut down, and all the wood laid in heaps." So
the little earth-men went about and got together the whole of their
kindred to help them with the work. They began at once, and when the
three hours were over, all was done, and they came back to the king's
daughter and told her so.  Then she took her white handkerchief again
and said, "Earth-workers, go home." At this they all disappeared.

When the king's son awoke, he was delighted, and she said, "Come home
when it has struck six o'clock." He did as she told him, and then the
king asked, "Have you made away with the forest?" "Yes," said the
king's son.  When they were sitting at table, the king said, "I
cannot yet give you my daughter to wife, you must still do something
more for her sake." So he asked what it was to be.  "I have a great
fish-pond," said the king.  "You must go to it to-morrow morning and
clear it of all mud until it is as bright as a mirror, and fill it
with every kind of fish."

The next morning the king gave him a glass shovel and said, "The
fish-pond must be done by six o'clock." So he went away, and when he
came to the fish-pond he stuck his shovel in the mud and it broke in
two.  Then he stuck his hoe in the mud, and it broke also.  Then he
was much troubled.  At noon the youngest daughter brought him
something to eat, and asked him how he was getting on.  So the king's
son said everything was going very ill with him, and he would
certainly have to lose his head.  "My tools have broken to pieces
again." "Oh," said she, "you must just come and eat something, and
then you will be in another frame of mind." "No," said he, "I cannot
eat, I am far too unhappy for that." Then she gave him many good
words until at last he came and ate something.

Then she loused him again, and he fell asleep, so once more she took
her handkerchief, tied a knot in it, and struck the ground thrice
with the knot, and said, "Earth-workers, come forth." In a moment a
great many little earth-men came and asked what she desired, and she
told them that in three hours, time, they must have the fish-pond
entirely cleaned out, and it must be so clear that people could see
themselves reflected in it, and every kind of fish must be in it.
The little earth-men went away and summoned all their kindred to help
them, and in two hours it was done.  Then they returned to her and
said, "We have done as you have commanded." The king's daughter took
the handkerchief and once more struck thrice on the ground with it,
and said, "earth-workers, go home again." Then they all went away.

When the king's son awoke the fish-pond was done.  Then the king's
daughter went away also, and told him that when it was six he was to
come to the house.  When he arrived at the house the king asked,
"Have you got the fish-pond done?" "Yes," said the king's son.  That
was very good.

When they were again sitting at table the king said, "You have
certainly done the fish-pond, but I cannot give you my daughter yet,
you must just do one thing more." "What is that, then?" asked the
king's son.  The king said he had a great mountain on which there was
nothing but briars which must all be cut down, and at the top of it
the youth must build a great castle, which must be as strong as could
be conceived, and all the furniture and fittings belonging to a
castle must be inside it.

And when he arose next morning the king gave him a glass axe and a
glass gimlet, and he was to have all done by six o'clock.  As he was
cutting down the first briar with the axe, it broke off short, and so
small that the pieces flew all round about, and he could not use the
gimlet either.  Then he was quite miserable, and waited for his
dearest to see if she would not come and help him in his need.  When
it was mid-day she came and brought him something to eat.  He went to
meet her and told her all, and ate something, and let her louse him
and fell asleep.

Then she once more took the knot and struck the earth with it, and
said, "Earth-workers, come forth." Then came once again numbers of
earth-men, and asked what her desire was.  Then said she, "In the
space of three hours you must cut down the whole of the briars, and a
castle must be built on the top of the mountain that must be as
strong as any one could conceive, and all the furniture that pertains
to a castle must be inside it." They went away, and summoned their
kindred to help them and when the time was come, all was ready.  Then
they came to the king's daughter and told her so, and the king's
daughter took her handkerchief and struck thrice on the earth with
it, and said, "Earth-workers, go home, on which they all
disappeared." When therefore the king's son awoke and saw everything
done, he was as happy as a bird in air.

When it had struck six, they went home together.  Then said the king,
"Is the castle ready?" "Yes," said the king's son.  When they sat
down to table, the king said, "I cannot give away my youngest
daughter until the two eldest are married." Then the king's son and
the king's daughter were quite troubled, and the king's son had no
idea what to do.  But he went by night to the king's daughter and ran
away with her.  When they had got a little distance away, the king's
daughter peeped round and saw her father behind her.  "Oh," said she,
"what are we to do? My father is behind us, and will take us back
with him.  I will at once change you into a briar, and myself into a
rose, and I will shelter myself in the midst of the bush."

When the father reached the place, there stood a briar with one rose
on it, and he was about to gather the rose, when the thorn pricked
his finger so that he was forced to go home again.  His wife asked
why he had not brought their daughter back with him.  So he said he
had nearly got up to her, but that all at once he had lost sight of
her, and a briar with one rose was growing on the spot. Then said the
queen, "If you had but gathered the rose, the briar would have been
forced to come too." So he went back again to fetch the rose, but in
the meantime the two were already far over the plain, and the king
ran after them.  Then the daughter once more looked round and saw her
father coming, and said, "Oh, what shall we do now?  I will instantly
change you into a church and myself into a priest, and I will stand
up in the pulpit, and preach." When the king got to the place, there
stood a church, and in the pulpit was a priest preaching.  So he
listened to the sermon, and then went home again.

Then the queen asked why he had not brought their daughter with him,
and he said, "Nay, I ran a long time after her, and just as I thought
I should soon overtake her, a church was standing there and a priest
was in the pulpit preaching." "You should just have brought the
priest," said his wife, "and then the church would soon have come.
It is no use to send you, I must go there myself." When she had
walked for some time, and could see the two in the distance, the
king's daughter peeped round and saw her mother coming, and said,
"Now we are undone, for my mother is coming herself, I will
immediately change you into a fish-pond and myself into a fish."

When the mother came to the place, there was a large fish-pond, and
in the midst of it a fish was leaping about and peeping out of the
water, and it was quite merry.  She wanted to catch the fish, but she
could not.  Then she was very angry, and drank up the whole pond in
order to catch the fish, but it made her so ill that she was forced
to vomit, and vomited the whole pond out again.  Then she cried, "I
see very well that nothing can be done now, and asked them to come
back to her." Then the king's daughter went back again, and the queen
gave her daughter three walnuts, and said, "With these you can help
yourself when you are in your greatest need."

So the young folks once more went away together.  And when they had
walked quite ten miles, they arrived at the castle from whence the
king's son came, and near it was a village.  When they reached it,
the king's son said, "Stay here, my dearest, I will just go to the
castle, and then will I come with a carriage and with attendants to
fetch you."

When he got to the castle they all rejoiced greatly at having the
king's son back again, and he told them he had a bride who was now in
the village, and they must go with the carriage to fetch her.  Then
they harnessed the horses at once, and many attendants seated
themselves outside the carriage.  When the king's son was about to
get in, his mother gave him a kiss, and he forgot everything which
had happened, and also what he was about to do. At this his mother
ordered the horses to be taken out of the carriage again, and
everyone went back into the house.  But the maiden sat in the village
and watched and watched, and thought he would come and fetch her, but
no one came.  Then the king's daughter took service in the mill which
belonged to the castle, and was obliged to sit by the pond every
afternoon and clean the tubs.

And the queen came one day on foot from the castle, and went walking
by the pond, and saw the well-grown maiden sitting there, and said,
"What a fine strong girl that is.  She pleases me well." Then she and
all with her looked at the maid, but no one knew her.  So a long time
passed by during which the maiden served the miller honorably and
faithfully.  In the meantime, the queen had sought a wife for her
son, who came from quite a distant part of the world.  When the bride
came, they were at once to be married.  And many people hurried
together, all of whom wanted to see everything.  Then the girl said
to the miller that he might be so good as to give her leave to go
also.  So the miller said, "Yes, do go there." When she was about to
go, she opened one of the three walnuts, and a beautiful dress lay
inside it. She put it on, and went into the church and stood by the
altar. Suddenly came the bride and bridegroom, and seated themselves
before the altar, and when the priest was just going to bless them,
the bride peeped half round and saw the maiden standing there.  Then
she stood up again, and said she would not be given away until she
also had as beautiful a dress as that lady there.

So they went back to the house again, and sent to ask the lady if she
would sell that dress.  No, she would not sell it, but the bride
might perhaps earn it.  Then the bride asked her how she was to do
this.  Then the maiden said if she might sleep one night outside the
king's son's door, the bride might have what she wanted.  So the
bride said, "Yes," she was willing to do that.  But the servants were
ordered to give the king's son a sleeping draught, and then the
maiden laid herself down on the threshold and lamented all night
long.  She had had the forest cut down for him, she had had the
fish-pond cleaned out for him, she had had the castle built for him,
she had changed him into a briar, and then into a church, and at last
into a fish-pond, and yet he had forgotten her so quickly.

The king's son did not hear one word of it, but the servants had been
awakened, and had listened to it, and had not known what it could
mean.  The next morning when they were all up, the bride put on the
dress, and went away to the church with the bridegroom.  In the
meantime the maiden opened the second walnut, and a still more
beautiful dress was inside it.  She put it on, and went and stood by
the altar in the church, and everything happened as it had happened
the time before.  And the maiden again lay all night on the threshold
which led to the chamber of the king's son, and the servant was once
more to give him a sleeping draught.  The servant, however, went to
him and gave him something to keep him awake, and then the king's son
went to bed, and the miller's maiden bemoaned herself as before on
the threshold of the door, and told of all that she had done.  All
this the king's son heard, and was sore troubled, and what was past
came back to him.  Then he wanted to go to her, but his mother had
locked the door.

The next morning, however, he went at once to his beloved, and told
her everything which had happened to him, and prayed her not to be
angry with him for having forgotten her.  Then the king's daughter
opened the third walnut, and within it was a still more magnificent
dress, which she put on, and went with her bridegroom to church, and
numbers of children came who gave them flowers, and offered them gay
ribbons to bind about their feet, and they were blessed by the
priest, and had a merry wedding.  But the false mother and the bride
had to depart.  And the mouth of the person who last told all this is
still warm.
There was once upon a time a princess who was extremely proud. If a
wooer came she gave him some riddle to guess, and if he could not
guess it, he was sent contemptuously away.  She let it be made known
also that whosoever solved her riddle should marry her, let him be
who he might.  At length, three tailors fell in with each other, the
two eldest of whom thought they had done so many dexterous jobs of
work successfully that they could not fail to succeed in this also,
the third was a little, useless harum-scarum, who did not even know
his trade, but thought he must have some luck in this venture, for
where else was it to come from.  Then the two others said to him,
just stay at home, you cannot do much with your little understanding.
The little tailor, however, did not let himself be discouraged, and
said he had set his mind to work on this for once, and he would
manage well enough, and he went forth as if the whole world were his.

They all three announced themselves to the princess, and said she was
to propound her riddle to them, and that the right persons were now
come, who had understandings so fine that they could be threaded in a
needle.  Then said the princess, "I have two kinds of hair on my
head, of what color is it." "If that be all," said the first, "it
must be black and white, like the cloth which is called pepper and
salt." The princess said, "Wrongly guessed, let the second answer."
Then said the second, "If it be not black and white, then it is brown
and red, like my father's sunday coat." "Wrongly guessed," said the
princess, "let the third give the answer for I see very well he knows
it for certain." Then the little tailor stepped boldly forth and
said, "The princess has a silver and a golden hair on her head, and
those are the two different colors."

When the princess heard that, she turned pale and nearly fell down
with terror, for the little tailor had guessed her riddle, and she
had firmly believed that no man on earth could discover it.  When her
courage returned she said, "You have not won me yet by that.  There
is still something else that you must do.  Below, in the stable is a
bear with which you shall pass the night, and when I get up in the
morning if you are still alive, you shall marry me." She expected,
however, she would thus get rid of the tailor, for the bear had never
yet left anyone alive who had fallen into his clutches.  The little
tailor did not let himself be frightened away, but was quite
delighted, and said, "Boldly ventured is half won."

So when the evening came, our little tailor was taken down to the
bear.  The bear was about to set on the little fellow at once, and
give him a hearty welcome with his paws.  "Softly, softly," said the
little tailor, "I will soon make you quiet." Then quite composedly,
and as if he had no anxiety in the world, he took some nuts out of
his pocket, cracked them, and ate the kernels.  When the bear saw
that, he was seized with a desire to have some nuts too.  The tailor
felt in his pockets, and reached him a handful, they were, however,
not nuts, but pebbles.  The bear put them in his mouth, but could get
nothing out of them, let him bite as he would.  "Eh," thought he,
"what a stupid blockhead am I, I cannot even crack a nut." And then
he said to the tailor, "Here, crack me the nuts." "There, see what a
stupid fellow you are," said the little tailor, "to have such a great
mouth, and not be able to crack a small nut." Then he took the pebble
and nimbly put a nut in his mouth in the place of it, and crack, it
was in two.  "I must try the thing again," said the bear, "when I
watch you, I then think I ought to be able to do it too." So the
tailor once more gave him a pebble, and the bear tried and tried to
bite into it with all the strength of his body.  But even you do not
believe that he managed it.

When that was over, the tailor took out a violin from beneath his
coat, and played something to himself.  When the bear heard the
music, he could not help beginning to dance, and when he had danced a
while, the thing pleased him so well that he said to the little
tailor, "Listen, is it difficult to fiddle?" "Easy enough for a
child.  Look, with the left hand I lay my fingers on it, and with the
right I stroke it with the bow, and then it goes merrily, hop sa sa
vivallalera." "So," said the bear, "fiddling is a thing I should like
to learn too, that I might dance whenever I felt like it.  What do
you think of that?  Will you give me lessons?" "With all my heart,"
said the tailor, "if you have a talent for it.  But just let me see
your claws, they are terribly long, I must cut your nails a little."
Then a vise was brought, and the bear put his claws in it, and the
little tailor screwed it tight, and said, "Now wait until I come with
the scissors." And he let the bear growl as he liked, and lay down in
the corner on a bundle of straw, and fell asleep.

When the princess heard the bear growling so fiercely during the
night, she believed nothing else but that he was growling for joy,
and had made an end of the tailor.  In the morning she arose careless
and happy, but when she peeped into the stable, the tailor stood
gaily before her, and was as healthy as a fish in water.  Now she
could not say another word against the wedding because she had given
a promise before everyone, and the king ordered a carriage to be
brought in which she was to drive to church with the tailor, and
there she was to be married.

When they had climbed into the carriage, the two other tailors, who
had false hearts and envied him his good fortune, went into the
stable and unscrewed the bear again.  The bear in great fury ran
after the carriage.  The princess heard snorting and growling.  She
was terrified, and she cried, "Ah, the bear is behind us and wants to
get you." The tailor was quick and stood on his head, stuck his legs
out of the window, and cried, "Do you see the vise?  If you do not be
off you shall be put into it again." When the bear saw that, he
turned round and ran away.  The tailor drove quietly to church, and
the princess was married to him at once, and he lived with her as
happy as a woodlark.  Whosoever does not believe this, must pay a
taler.
A tailor's apprentice was traveling about the world in search of
work, and at one time he could find none, and his poverty was so
great that he had not a farthing to live on.  Presently he met a Jew
on the road, and as he thought he would have a great deal of money
about him, the tailor thrust God out of his heart, fell on the Jew,
and said, give me your money, or I will strike you dead.  Then said
the Jew, grant me my life, I have no money but eight farthings.  But
the tailor said, money you have, and it shall be produced, and used
violence and beat him until he was near death.  And when the Jew was
dying, the last words he said were, the bright sun will bring it to
light, and thereupon he died.  The tailor's apprentice felt in his
pockets and sought for money, but he found nothing but eight
farthings, as the Jew had said.  Then he took him up and carried him
behind a clump of trees, and went onwards to seek work.  After he had
traveled about a long while, he found work in a town with a master
who had a pretty daughter, with whom he fell in love, and he married
her, and lived in good and happy wedlock.

After a long time when he and his wife had two children, the wife's
father and mother died, and the young people kept house alone.  One
morning, when the husband was sitting on the table before the window,
his wife brought him his coffee, and when he had poured it out into
the saucer, and was just going to drink, the sun shone on it and the
reflection gleamed hither and thither on the wall above, and made
circles on it.  Then the tailor looked up and said, yes, it would
like very much to bring it to light, and cannot.  The woman said, o,
dear husband, and what is that, then.  What do you mean by that.  He
answered, I must not tell you.  But she said, if you love me, you
must tell me, and used her most affectionate words, and said that no
one should ever know it, and left him no rest.  Then he told her how
years ago, when he was traveling about seeking work and quite worn
out and penniless, he had killed a Jew, and that in the last agonies
of death, the Jew had spoken the words, the bright sun will bring it
to light.  And now, the sun had just wanted to bring it to light, and
had gleamed and made circles on the wall, but had not been able to do
it.  After this, he again charged her particularly never to tell
this, or he would lose his life, and she did promise.  However, when
he had sat down to work again, she went to her great friend and
confided the story to her, and asked her never to repeat it to any
human being, but before three days were over, the whole town knew it,
and the tailor was brought to trial, and condemned.  And thus, after
all, the bright sun did bring it to light.
There was once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the
king faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no
longer because of the many wounds which he had received.  The king
said to him, "You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and
you will not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who
renders me serve for them." Then the soldier did not know how to earn
a living, went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until
in the evening he entered a forest.  When darkness came on, he saw a
light, which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a
witch.  "Do give me one night's lodging, and a little to eat and
drink," said he to her, "or I shall starve." "Oho," she answered,
"who gives anything to a run-away soldier?  Yet will I be
compassionate, and take you in, if you will do what I wish." "What do
you wish?" said the soldier.  "That you should dig all round my
garden for me, tomorrow." The soldier consented, and next day labored
with all his strength, but could not finish it by the evening.  "I
see well enough," said the witch, "that you can do no more today, but
I will keep you yet another night, in payment for which you must
tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small." The soldier
spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch
proposed that he should stay one night more.  "Tomorrow, you shall
only do me a very trifling piece of work.  Behind my house, there is
an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and
never goes out, and you shall bring it up again."

Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a
basket.  He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him
up again.  She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she
stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from
him.  "No," said he, perceiving her evil intention, "I will not give
you the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground."
The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the well, and
went away.

The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the
blue light went on burning, but of what use was that to him.  He saw
very well that he could not escape death.  He sat for a while very
sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his
tobacco pipe, which was still half full.  "This shall be my last
pleasure," thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and
began to smoke.  When the smoke had circled about the cavern,
suddenly a little black dwarf stood before him, and said, "Lord, what
are your commands?" "What my commands are?" replied the soldier,
quite astonished.  "I must do everything you bid me," said the little
man. "Good," said the soldier, "then in the first place help me out
of this well." The little man took him by the hand, and led him
through an underground passage, but he did not forget to take the
blue light with him.  On the way the dwarf showed him the treasures
which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took
as much gold as he could carry.  When he was above, he said to the
little man, "Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before the
judge."

In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild tom-cat
and screaming frightfully.  Nor was it long before the little man
re-appeared.  "It is all done," said he, "and the witch is already
hanging on the gallows.  What further commands has my lord," inquired
the dwarf.  "At this moment, none," answered the soldier, "You can
return home, only be at hand immediately, if I summon you." "Nothing
more is needed than that you should light your pipe at the blue
light, and I will appear before you at once." Thereupon he vanished
from his sight.

The soldier returned to the town from which he had come.  He went to
the best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the
landlord furnish him a room as handsome as possible. When it was
ready and the soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the
little black mannikin and said, "I have served the king faithfully,
but he has dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to
take my revenge." "What am I to do?" asked the little man.  "Late at
night, when the king's daughter is in bed, bring her here in her
sleep, she shall do servant's work for me." The mannikin said, "That
is an easy thing for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you,
for if it is discovered, you will fare ill." When twelve o'clock had
struck, the door sprang open, and the mannikin carried in the
princess.  "Aha, are you there?" cried the soldier, "Get to your work
at once.  Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber." When she had done
this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he stretched out
his feet and said, "Pull off my boots," and then he threw them in her
face, and made her pick them up again, and clean and brighten them.
She, however, did everything he bade her, without opposition,
silently and with half-shut eyes.  When the first cock crowed, the
mannikin carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her in her
bed.

Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told
him that she had had a very strange dream.  "I was carried through
the streets with the rapidity of lightning," said she, "and taken
into a soldier's room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant,
sweep his room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work.  It
was only a dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done
everything." "The dream may have been true," said the king, "I will
give you a piece of advice.  Fill your pocket full of peas, and make
a small hole in the pocket, and then if you are carried away again,
they will fall out and leave a track in the streets." But unseen by
the king, the mannikin was standing beside him when he said that, and
heard all.  At night when the sleeping princess was again carried
through the streets, some peas certainly did fall out of her pocket,
but they made no track, for the crafty mannikin had just before
scattered peas in every street there was.  And again the princess was
compelled to do servant's work until cock-crow.

Next morning the king sent his people out to seek the track, but it
was all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting,
picking up peas, and saying, "It must have rained peas, last night."
"We must think of something else," said the king, "keep your shoes on
when you go to bed, and before you come back from the place where you
are taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it."
The black mannikin heard this plot, and at night when the soldier
again ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told
him that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and
that if the shoe were found in the soldier's house it would go badly
with him.  "Do what I bid you," replied the soldier, and again this
third night the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but
before she went away, she hid her shoe under the bed.

Next morning the king had the entire town searched for his daughter's
shoe.  It was found at the soldier's, and the soldier himself, who at
the entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought
back, and thrown into prison.  In his flight he had forgotten the
most valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had
only one ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was
standing at the window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of
his comrades passing by.  The soldier tapped at the pane of glass,
and when this man came up, said to him, "Be so kind as to fetch me
that small bundle I have lying in the inn, and I will give you a
ducat for doing it."

His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted.  As soon as
the soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the
black mannikin.  "Have no fear," said the latter to his master.  "Go
wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take
the blue light with you." Next day the soldier was tried, and though
he had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death.  When
he was led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the king.  "What
is it?" asked the king.  "That I may smoke one more pipe on my way."
"You may smoke three," answered the king, "but do not imagine that I
will spare your life." Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and
lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke
had ascended, the mannikin was there with a small cudgel in his hand,
and said, "What does my lord command?" "Strike down to earth that
false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the king who has
treated me so ill." Then the mannikin fell on them like lightning,
darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched
by his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again.  The
king was terrified, he threw himself on the soldier's mercy, and
merely to be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his
own, and his daughter to wife.
Once upon a time there was a child who was willful, and would not do
what her mother wished.  For this reason God had no pleasure in her,
and let her become ill, and no doctor could do her any good, and in a
short time she lay on her death-bed. When she had been lowered into
her grave, and the earth was spread over her, all at once her arm
came out again, and stretched upwards, and when they had put it in
and spread fresh earth over it, it was all to no purpose, for the arm
always came out again.  Then the mother herself was obliged to go to
the grave, and strike the arm with a rod, and when she had done that,
it was drawn in, and then at last the child had rest beneath the
ground.
There was once a king's son, who was no longer content to stay at
home in his father's house, and as he had no fear of anything, he
thought, I will go forth into the wide world, there the time will not
seem long to me, and I shall see wonders enough.  So he took leave of
his parents, and went forth, and on and on from morning till night,
and whichever way his path led it was the same to him.  It came to
pass that he arrived at the house of a giant, and as he was so tired
he sat down by the door and rested. And as he let his eyes roam here
and there, he saw the giant's playthings lying in the yard.  These
were a couple of enormous balls, and nine-pins as tall as a man.
After a while he had a fancy to set the nine-pins up and then rolled
the balls at them, and screamed and cried out when the nine-pins
fell, and had a merry time of it.

The giant heard the noise, stretched his head out of the window, and
saw a man who was not taller than other men, and yet played with his
nine-pins.  "Little worm," cried he, "why are you playing with my
balls?  Who gave you strength to do it?" The king's son looked up,
saw the giant, and said, "Oh, you blockhead, you think indeed that
you only have strong arms, I can do everything I want to do." The
giant came down and watched the bowling with great admiration, and
said, "Child of man, if you are one of that kind, go and bring me an
apple of the tree of life." "What do you want with it?" said the
king's son.  "I do not want the apple for myself," answered the
giant, "but I have a betrothed bride who wishes for it.  I have
traveled far about the world and cannot find the tree." "I will soon
find it," said the king's son, "and I do not know what is to prevent
me from getting the apple down." The giant said, "You really believe
it to be so easy.  The garden in which the tree stands is surrounded
by an iron railing, and in front of the railing lie wild beasts, each
close to the other, and they keep watch and let no man go in." "They
will be sure to let me in," said the king's son.  "Yes, but even if
you do get into the garden, and see the apple hanging to the tree, it
is still not yours.  A ring hangs in front of it, through which any
one who wants to reach the apple and break it off, must put his hand,
and no one has yet had the luck to do it." "That luck will be mine,"
said the king's son. Then he took leave of the giant, and went forth
over mountain and valley, and through plains and forests, until at
length he came to the wondrous garden.

The beasts lay round about it, but they had put their heads down and
were asleep.  Moreover, they did not awake when he went up to them,
so he stepped over them, climbed the fence, and got safely into the
garden.  There, in the very middle of it, stood the tree of life, and
the red apples were shining upon the branches.  He climbed up the
trunk to the top, and as he was about to reach out for an apple, he
saw a ring hanging before it, but he thrust his hand through that
without any difficulty, and picked the apple.  The ring closed
tightly on his arm, and all at once he felt a prodigious strength
flowing through his veins.  When he had come down again from the tree
with the apple, he would not climb over the fence, but grasped the
great gate, and had no need to shake it more than once before it
sprang open with a loud crash.  Then he went out, and the lion which
had been lying in front of the gate, was awake and sprang after him,
not in rage and fierceness, but following him humbly as its master.

The king's son took the giant the apple he had promised him, and
said, "You see, I have brought it without difficulty." The giant was
glad that his desire had been so soon satisfied, hastened to his
bride, and gave her the apple for which she had wished.  She was a
beautiful and wise maiden, and as she did not see the ring on his
arm, she said, "I shall never believe that you have brought the
apple, until I see the ring on your arm." The giant said, "I have
nothing to do but go home and fetch it," and thought it would be easy
to take away by force from the weak man, what he would not give of
his own free will.  He therefore demanded the ring from him, but the
king's son refused it.  "Where the apple is, the ring must be also,"
said the giant. "If you will not give it of your own accord, you must
fight me for it."

They wrestled with each other for a long time, but the giant could
not harm the king's son, who was strengthened by the magical power of
the ring.  Then the giant thought of a ruse, and said, "I have got
warm with fighting, and so have you.  We will bathe in the river, and
cool ourselves before we begin again." The king's son, who knew
nothing of falsehood, went with him to the water, and pulled off with
his clothes the ring also from his arm, and sprang into the river.
The giant instantly snatched the ring, and ran away with it, but the
lion, which had observed the theft, pursued the giant, tore the ring
out of his hand, and brought it back to its master.  Then the giant
placed himself behind an oak-tree, and while the king's son was busy
putting on his clothes again, surprised him, and put both his eyes
out.

And now the unhappy king's son stood there, and was blind and knew
not how to help himself.  Then the giant came back to him, took him
by the hand as if he were someone who wanted to guide him, and led
him to the top of a high rock.  There he left him standing, and
thought, "Just two steps more, and he will fall down and kill
himself, and I can take the ring from him." But the faithful lion had
not deserted its master.  It held him fast by the clothes, and drew
him gradually back again.

When the giant came and wanted to rob the dead man, he saw that his
cunning had been in vain.  "Is there no way, then, of destroying a
weak child of man like that?" said he angrily to himself, and seized
the king's son and led him back again to the precipice by another
way, but the lion which saw his evil design, helped its master out of
danger here also.  When they had come close to the edge, the giant
let the blind man's hand drop, and was going to leave him behind
alone, but the lion pushed the giant so that he was thrown down and
fell, dashed to pieces, on the ground.

The faithful animal again drew its master back from the precipice,
and guided him to a tree by which flowed a clear brook.  The king's
son sat down there, but the lion lay down, and sprinkled the water in
his face with its paws.  Scarcely had a couple of drops wetted the
sockets of his eyes, than he was once more able to see something, and
noticed a little bird flying quite close by, which hit itself against
the trunk of a tree.  So it went down to the water and bathed itself
therein, and then it soared upwards and swept between the trees
without touching them, as if it had recovered its sight.  Then the
king's son recognized a sign from God and stooped down to the water,
and washed and bathed his face in it.  And when he arose he had his
eyes once more, brighter and clearer than they had ever been.

The king's son thanked God for his great mercy, and traveled with his
lion onwards through the world.  And it came to pass that he arrived
before a castle which was enchanted.  In the gateway stood a maiden
of beautiful form and fine face, but she was quite black.  She spoke
to him and said, "Ah, if you could but deliver me from the evil spell
which is thrown over me." "What shall I do?" said the king's son.
The maiden answered, "You must pass three nights in the great hall of
this enchanted castle, but you must let no fear enter your heart.
When they are doing their worst to torment you, if you bear it
without letting a sound escape you, I shall be free.  Your life they
dare not take." Then said the king's son, "I have no fear, with God's
help I will try it." So he went gaily into the castle, and when it
grew dark he seated himself in the large hall and waited.

Everything was quiet, however, till midnight, when all at once a
great tumult began, and out of every hole and corner came little
devils.  They behaved as if they did not see him, seated themselves
in the middle of the room, lighted a fire, and began to gamble.  When
one of them lost, he said, "It is not right, some one is here who
does not belong to us, it is his fault that I am losing." "Wait, you
fellow behind the stove, I am coming," said another.  The screaming
became still louder, so that no one could have heard it without
terror.  The king's son stayed sitting quite calmly, and was not
afraid, but at last the devils jumped up from the ground, and fell on
him, and there were so many of them that he could not defend himself
from them.  They dragged him about on the floor, pinched him, pricked
him, beat him, and tormented him, but no sound escaped from him.
Towards morning they disappeared, and he was so exhausted that he
could scarcely move his limbs, but when day dawned the black maiden
came to him.  She bore in her hand a little bottle wherein was the
water of life wherewith she washed him, and he at once felt all pain
depart and new strength flow through his veins.  She said, "You have
held out successfully for one night, but two more lie before you."
Then she went away again, and as she was going, he observed that her
feet had become white.

The next night the devils came and began their gambling anew.  They
fell on the king's son, and beat him much more severely than the
night before, until his body was covered with wounds.  But as he bore
all quietly, they were forced to leave him, and when dawn appeared,
the maiden came and healed him with the water of life.  And when she
went away, he saw with joy that she had already become white to the
tips of her fingers.  And now he had only one night more to go
through, but it was the worst. The devils came again, "Are you still
there?" cried they. "You shall be tormented till your breath stops."
They pricked him and beat him, and threw him here and there, and
pulled him by the arms and legs as if they wanted to tear him to
pieces, but he bore everything, and never uttered a cry.  At last the
devils vanished, but he lay fainting there, and did not stir, nor
could he raise his eyes to look at the maiden who came in, and
sprinkled and bathed him with the water of life.  But suddenly he was
freed from all pain, and felt fresh and healthy as if he had awakened
from sleep, and when he opened his eyes he saw the maiden standing by
him, snow-white, and fair as day.

"Rise," said she, "and swing your sword three times over the stairs,
and then all will be delivered." And when he had done that, the whole
castle was released from enchantment, and the maiden was a rich
king's daughter.  The servants came and said that the table was set
in the great hall, and dinner served up. Then they sat down and ate
and drank together, and in the evening the wedding was solemnized
with great rejoicings.
There was once a young huntsman who went into the forest to lie in
wait.  He had a fresh and joyous heart, and as he was going thither,
whistling upon a leaf, an ugly old crone came up, who spoke to him
and said, "Good-day, dear huntsman, truly you are merry and
contented, but I am suffering from hunger and thirst, do give me an
alms." The huntsman took pity on the poor old creature, felt in his
pocket, and gave her what he could afford.

He was then about to go further, but the old woman stopped him and
said, "Listen, dear huntsman, to what I tell you.  I will make you a
present in return for your good heart.  Go on your way now, but in a
little while you will come to a tree, whereon nine birds are sitting
which have a cloak in their claws, and are fighting for it, take your
gun and shoot into the midst of them.  They will let the cloak fall
down to you, but one of the birds will be hurt, and will drop down
dead.  Carry away the cloak, it is a wishing-cloak.  When you throw
it over your shoulders, you only have to wish to be in a certain
place, and you will be there in the twinkling of an eye.  Take out
the heart of the dead bird and swallow it whole, and every morning
early, when you get up, you will find a gold piece under your
pillow." The huntsman thanked the wise woman, and thought to himself,
"Those are fine things that she has promised me, if all does but come
true." And verily when he had walked about a hundred paces, he heard
in the branches above him such a screaming and twittering that he
looked up and saw there a swarm of birds who were tearing a piece of
cloth about with their beaks and claws, and tugging and fighting as
if each wanted to have it all to himself.  "Well," said the huntsman,
"this is amazing, it has really come to pass just as the old crone
foretold," and he took the gun from his shoulder, aimed and fired
right into the midst of them, so that the feathers flew about.  The
birds instantly took to flight with loud outcries, but one dropped
down dead, and the cloak fell at the same time.  Then the huntsman
did as the old woman had directed him, cut open the bird, sought the
heart, swallowed it down, and took the cloak home with him.

Next morning, when he awoke, the promise occurred to him, and he
wished to see if it also had been fulfilled.  When he lifted up the
pillow, the gold piece shone in his eyes, and next day he found
another, and so it went on, every time he got up.  He gathered
together a heap of gold, but at last he thought, "Of what use is all
my gold to me if I stay at home?  I will go forth and see the world."

He then took leave of his parents, buckled on his huntsman's pouch
and gun, and went out into the world.  It came to pass, that one day
he traveled through a dense forest, and when he came to the end of
it, in the plain before him stood a fine castle.  An old woman was
standing with a wonderfully beautiful maiden, looking out of one of
the windows.  The old woman, however, was a witch and said to the
maiden, "There comes one out of the forest, who has a wonderful
treasure in his body.  We must filch it from him, daughter of my
heart, it is more suitable for us than for him.  He has a bird's
heart about him, by means of which a gold piece lies every morning
under his pillow." She told her what she was to do to get it, and
what part she had to play, and finally threatened her, and said with
angry eyes, "And if you do not attend to what I say, it will be the
worse for you." Now when the huntsman came nearer he noticed the
maiden, and said to himself, "I have traveled about for such a long
time, I will take a rest for once, and enter that beautiful castle.
I have certainly money enough." Nevertheless, the real reason was
that he had caught sight of the beautiful picture.

He entered the house, and was well received and courteously
entertained.  Before long he was so much in love with the young witch
that he no longer thought of anything else, and only saw things as
she saw them, and liked to do what she desired.  The old woman then
said, "Now we must have the bird's heart, he will never miss it." She
brewed a potion, and when it was ready, poured it into a goblet and
gave it to the maiden, who was to present it to the huntsman.  She
did so, saying, "Now, my dearest, drink to me."

So he took the goblet, and when he had swallowed the draught, he
brought up the heart of the bird.  The girl had to take it away
secretly and swallow it herself, for the old woman would have it so.
Thenceforward he found no more gold under his pillow, but it lay
instead under that of the maiden, from whence the old woman fetched
it away every morning, but he was so much in love and so befooled,
that he thought of nothing else but of passing his time with the
girl.

Then the old witch said, "We have the bird's heart, but we must also
take the wishing-cloak away from him." The girl answered, "We will
leave him that, he has lost his wealth." The old woman was angry and
said, "Such a mantle is a wonderful thing, and is seldom to be found
in this world.  I must and will have it." She gave the girl several
blows, and said that if she did not obey, it should fare ill with
her.  So she did the old woman's bidding, placed herself at the
window and looked on the distant country, as if she were very
sorrowful.  The huntsman asked, "Why do you stand there so
sorrowfully?" "Ah, my beloved," was her answer, "over yonder lies the
garnet mountain, where the precious stones grow.  I long for them so
much that when I think of them, I feel quite sad, but who can get
them.  Only the birds, they fly and can reach them, but a man never."
"Have you nothing else to complain of?" said the huntsman.  "I will
soon remove that burden from your heart." With that he drew her under
his mantle, wished himself on the garnet mountain, and in the
twinkling of an eye they were sitting on it together.  Precious
stones were glistening on every side so that it was a joy to see
them, and together they gathered the finest and costliest of them.

Now, the old woman had, through her sorceries, contrived that the
eyes of the huntsman should become heavy.  He said to the maiden, "We
will sit down and rest awhile, I am so tired that I can no longer
stand on my feet." Then they sat down, and he laid his head in her
lap, and fell asleep. When he was asleep, she unfastened the mantle
from his shoulders, and wrapped herself in it, picked up the garnets
and stones, and wished herself back at home with them.

But when the huntsman had slept his fill and awoke, and perceived
that his sweetheart had betrayed him, and left him alone on the wild
mountain, he said, "Oh, what treachery there is in the world," and
sat down there in trouble and sorrow, not knowing what to do.  But
the mountain belonged to some wild and monstrous giants who dwelt
thereon and lived their lives there, and he had not sat long before
he saw three of them coming towards him, so he lay down as if he were
sunk in a deep sleep.

Then the giants came up, and the first kicked him with his foot and
said, "What sort of an earth-worm is this, lying here contemplating
his inside?" The second said, "Step upon him and kill him." But the
third said, contemptuously, "That would indeed be worth your while,
just let him live, he cannot remain here, and when he climbs higher,
toward the summit of of the mountain, the clouds will lay hold of him
and bear him away." So saying they passed by.  But the huntsman had
paid heed to their words, and as soon as they were gone, he rose and
climbed up to the summit of the mountain, and when he had sat there a
while, a cloud floated towards him, caught him up, carried him away,
and traveled about for a long time in the heavens.  Then it sank
lower, and let itself down on a great cabbage-garden, girt round by
walls, so that he came softly to the ground on cabbages and
vegetables.

Then the huntsman looked about him and said, "If I had but something
to eat.  I am so hungry, and to proceed on my way from here will be
difficult.  I see here neither apples nor pears, nor any other sort
of fruit, everywhere nothing but cabbages, but at length he thought,
at a pinch I can eat some of the leaves, they do not taste
particularly good, but they will refresh me." With that he picked
himself out a fine head of cabbage, and ate it, but scarcely had he
swallowed a couple of mouthfuls than he felt very strange and quite
different.

Four legs grew on him, a thick head and two long ears, and he saw
with horror that he was changed into an ass.  Still as his hunger
increased every minute, and as the juicy leaves were suitable to his
present nature, he went on eating with great zest.  At last he
arrived at a different kind of cabbage, but as soon as he had
swallowed it, he again felt a change, and resumed his former human
shape.

Then the huntsman lay down and slept off his fatigue.  When he awoke
next morning, he broke off one head of the bad cabbages and another
of the good ones, and thought to himself, this shall help me to get
my own again and punish treachery.  Then he took the cabbages with
him, climbed over the wall, and went forth to look for the castle of
his sweetheart.  After wandering about for a couple of days he was
lucky enough to find it again.  He dyed his face brown, so that his
own mother would not have known him, and begged for shelter, "I am so
tired," said he, "that I can go no further." The witch asked, "Who
are you, countryman, and what is your business?" "I am a king's
messenger, and was sent out to seek the most delicious salad which
grows beneath the sun.  I have even been so fortunate as to find it,
and am carrying it about with me, but the heat of the sun is so
intense that the delicate cabbage threatens to wither, and I do not
know if I can carry it any further."

When the old woman heard of the exquisite salad, she was greedy, and
said, "Dear countryman, let me just try this wonderful salad." "Why
not?" answered he.  "I have brought two heads with me, and will give
you one of them," and he opened his pouch and handed her the bad
cabbage.  The witch suspected nothing amiss, and her mouth watered so
for this new dish that she herself went into the kitchen and dressed
it.  When it was prepared she could not wait until it was set on the
table, but took a couple of leaves at once, and put them in her
mouth, but hardly had she swallowed them than she was deprived of her
human shape, and she ran out into the courtyard in the form of an
ass.

Presently the maid-servant entered the kitchen, saw the salad
standing there ready prepared, and was about to carry it up, but on
the way, according to habit, she was seized by the desire to taste,
and she ate a couple of leaves.  Instantly the magic power showed
itself, and she likewise became an ass and ran out to the old woman,
and the dish of salad fell to the ground.

Meantime the messenger sat beside the beautiful girl, and as no one
came with the salad and she also was longing for it, she said, "I
don't know what has become of the salad." The huntsman thought, the
salad must have already taken effect, and said, "I will go to the
kitchen and inquire about it." As he went down he saw the two asses
running about in the courtyard, the salad, however, was lying on the
ground. "All right," said he, "the two have taken their portion," and
he picked up the other leaves, laid them on the dish, and carried
them to the maiden.  "I bring you the delicate food myself," said he,
"in order that you may not have to wait longer." Then she ate of it,
and was, like the others, immediately deprived of her human form, and
ran out into the courtyard in the shape of an ass.

After the huntsman had washed his face, so that the transformed ones
could recognize him, he went down into the courtyard, and said, "Now
you shall receive the wages of your treachery," and bound them
together, all three with one rope, and drove them along until he came
to a mill.  He knocked at the window, the miller put out his head,
and asked what he wanted.  "I have three unmanageable beasts,
answered he, which I don't want to keep any longer.  Will you take
them in, and give them food and stable room, and manage them as I
tell you, and then I will pay you what you ask?" The miller said,
"Why not?  But how am I to manage them?" The huntsman then said that
he was to give three beatings and one meal daily to the old donkey,
and that was the witch, one beating and three meals to the younger
one, which was the servant-girl, and to the youngest, which was the
maiden, no beatings and three meals, for he could not bring himself
to have the maiden beaten. After that he went back into the castle,
and found therein everything he needed.

After a couple of days, the miller came and said he must inform him
that the old ass which had received three beatings and only one meal
daily was dead.  The two others, he continued, are certainly not
dead, and are fed three times daily, but they are so sad that they
cannot last much longer.  The huntsman was moved to pity, put away
his anger, and told the miller to drive them back again to him.  And
when they came, he gave them some of the good salad, so that they
became human again.  The beautiful girl fell on her knees before him,
and said, "Ah, my beloved, forgive me for the evil I have done you,
my mother drove me to it.  It was done against my will, for I love
you dearly.  Your wishing-cloak hangs in a cupboard, and as for the
bird's-heart I will take a vomiting potion." But he thought
otherwise, and said, "Keep it.  It is all the same, for I will take
you for my true wife." So the wedding was celebrated, and they lived
happily together until their death.
A poor servant-girl was once traveling with the family with which she
was in service, through a great forest, and when they were in the
midst of it, robbers came out of the thicket, and murdered all they
found.  All perished together except the girl, who had jumped out of
the carriage in a fright, and hidden herself behind a tree.  When the
robbers had gone away with their booty, she came out and beheld the
great disaster.  Then she began to weep bitterly, and said, "What can
a poor girl like me do now?  I do not know how to get out of the
forest, no human being lives in it, so I must certainly starve."

She walked about and looked for a road, but could find none.  When it
was evening she seated herself under a tree, gave herself into God's
keeping, and resolved to sit waiting there and not go away, let
happen what might.  When she had sat there for a while, a white dove
came flying to her with a little golden key in its beak.  It put the
little key in her hand, and said, "Do you see that great tree,
therein is a little lock, open it with the tiny key, and you will
find food enough, and suffer no more hunger."

Then she went to the tree and opened it, and found milk in a little
dish, and white bread to break into it, so that she could eat her
fill.  When she was satisfied, she said, "It is now the time when the
hens at home go to roost, I am so tired I could go to bed too." Then
the dove flew to her again, and brought another golden key in its
bill, and said, "Open that tree there, and you will find a bed." So
she opened it, and found a beautiful white bed, and she prayed God to
protect her during the night, and lay down and slept.

In the morning the dove came for the third time, and again brought a
little key, and said, "Open that tree there, and you will find
clothes." And when she opened it, she found garments beset with gold
and with jewels, more splendid than those of any king's daughter.  So
she lived there for some time, and the dove came every day and
provided her with all she needed, and it was a quiet good life.

Then one day the dove came and said, "Will you do something for my
sake?" "With all my heart," said the girl.  Then said the little
dove, "I will guide you to a small house, enter it and inside it, an
old woman will be sitting by the fire and will say, 'good-day.' But
on your life give her no answer, let her do what she will, but pass
by her on the right side. Further on, there is a door, which open,
and you will enter into a room where a quantity of rings of all kinds
are lying, amongst which are some magnificent ones with shining
stones.  Leave them, however, where they are, and seek out a plain
one, which must likewise be amongst them, and bring it here to me as
quickly as you can."

The girl went to the little house, and came to the door.  There sat
an old woman who stared when she saw her, and said, "Good-day my
child." The girl gave her no answer, and opened the door.  "Whither
away?" cried the old woman, and seized her by the gown, and wanted to
hold her fast, saying, "That is my house, no one can go in there if I
choose not to allow it." But the girl was silent, got away from her,
and went straight into the room.

Now there lay on the table an enormous quantity of rings, which
gleamed and glittered before her eyes.  She turned them over and
looked for the plain one, but could not find it.  While she was
seeking, she saw the old woman and how she was stealing away, and
wanting to go off with a bird-cage which she had in her hand.  So she
went after her and took the cage out of her hand, and when she raised
it up and looked into it, a bird was inside which had the plain ring
in its bill.

Then she took the ring, and ran quite joyously home with it, and
thought the little white dove would come and get the ring, but it did
not.  Then she leant against a tree, determined to wait for the dove.
As she thus stood, it seemed just as if the tree was soft and pliant,
and was letting its branches down.  And suddenly the branches twined
around her, and were two arms, and when she looked around, the tree
was a handsome man, who embraced and kissed her heartily, and said,
"You have delivered me from the power of the old woman, who is a
wicked witch.  She had changed me into a tree, and every day for two
hours I was a white dove, and so long as she possessed the ring I
could not regain my human form." Then his servants and his horses,
who had likewise been changed into trees, were freed from the
enchanter also, and stood beside him.  And he led them forth to his
kingdom, for he was a king's son, and they married, and lived
happily.
There was once a man who had three sons, and nothing else in the
world but the house in which he lived.  Now each of the sons wished
to have the house after his father's death, but the father loved them
all alike, and did not know what to do, he did not wish to sell the
house, because it had belonged to his forefathers, else he might have
divided the money amongst them. At last he conceived a plan, and he
said to his sons, "Go into the world, and try each of you to learn a
trade, and, when you all come back, he who makes the best masterpiece
shall have the house."

The sons were well content with this, and the eldest determined to be
a blacksmith, the second a barber, and the third a fencing-master.
They fixed a time when they should all come home again, and then each
went his way.

It chanced that they all found skillful masters, who taught them
their trades well.  The blacksmith had to shoe the king's horses, and
he thought to himself, "The house is mine, without doubt." The barber
shaved only distinguished people, and he too already looked upon the
house as his own.  The fencing-master suffered many a blow, but he
grit his teeth, and let nothing vex him, for, said he to himself, "If
you are afraid of a blow, you'll never win the house."

When the appointed time had gone by, the three brothers came back
home to their father, but they did not know how to find the best
opportunity for showing their skill, so they sat down and consulted
together.  As they were sitting thus, all at once a hare came running
across the field.  Ah, ha, just in time, said the barber.  So he took
his basin and soap, and lathered away until the hare drew near, then
he soaped and shaved off the hare's whiskers whilst he was running at
the top of his speed, and did not even cut his skin or injure a hair
on his body. "Well done," said the old man. "If the others do not
make a great effort, the house is yours."

Soon after, up came a nobleman in his coach, dashing along at full
speed.  "Now you shall see what I can do, father," said the
blacksmith.  So away he ran after the coach, took all four shoes off
the feet of one of the horses whilst he was galloping, and put on
four new shoes without stopping him.  "You are a fine fellow, and as
clever as your brother," said his father.  "I do not know to which I
ought to give the house."

Then the third son said, "Father, let me have my turn, if you
please," and, as it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword, and
flourished it backwards and forwards above his head so fast that not
a drop fell upon him.  It rained still harder and harder, till at
last it came down in torrents, but he only flourished his sword
faster and faster, and remained as dry as if he were sitting in a
house.  When his father saw this he was amazed, and said, "This is
the masterpiece, the house is yours."

His brothers were satisfied with this, as was agreed beforehand, and,
as they loved one another very much, they all three stayed together
in the house, followed their trades, and, as they had learnt them so
well and were so clever, they earned a great deal of money.  Thus
they lived together happily until they grew old, and at last, when
one of them fell sick and died, the two others grieved so sorely
about it that they also fell ill, and soon after died.  And because
they had been so clever, and had loved one another so much, they were
all laid in the same grave.
There was a great war, and the king had many soldiers, but gave them
small pay, so small that they could not live upon it, so three of
them agreed among themselves to desert.  One of them said to the
others, "If we are caught we shall be hanged on the gallows, how
shall we manage it?" Another said, "Look at that great cornfield, if
we were to hide ourselves there, no one could find us, the troops are
not allowed to enter it, and to-morrow they are to march away." They
crept into the corn, only the troops did not march away, but remained
lying all round about it.  They stayed in the corn for two days and
two nights, and were so hungry that they all but died, but if they
had come out, their death would have been certain.  Then said they,
"What is the use of our deserting if we have to perish miserably
here?"

But now a fiery dragon came flying through the air, and it came down
to them, and asked why they had concealed themselves there.  They
answered, "We are three soldiers who have deserted because the pay
was so bad, and now we shall have to die of hunger if we stay here,
or to dangle on the gallows if we go out." "If you will serve me for
seven years," said the dragon, "I will convey you through the army so
that no one shall seize you." "We have no choice and are compelled to
accept," they replied.  Then the dragon caught hold of them with his
claws, and carried them away through the air over the army, and put
them down again on the earth far from it, but the dragon was no other
than the devil.  He gave them a small whip and said, "Whip with it
and crack it, and then as much gold will spring up round about as you
can wish for, then you can live like great lords, keep horses, and
drive your carriages, but when the seven years have come to an end,
you are my property."

Then he put before them a book which they were all three forced to
sign.  "But first I will ask you a riddle," said he, "and if you can
guess it, you shall be free, and released from my power." Then the
dragon flew away from them, and they went away with their whip, had
gold in plenty, ordered themselves rich apparel, and traveled about
the world.  Wherever they were they lived in pleasure and
magnificence, rode on horseback, drove in carriages, ate and drank,
but did nothing wicked.  The time slipped quickly by, and when the
seven years were coming to an end, two of them were terribly anxious
and alarmed, but the third took the affair easily, and said,
"Brothers, fear nothing, I still have my wits about me, I shall guess
the riddle." They went out into the open country and sat down, and
the two pulled sorrowful faces.  Then an aged woman came up to them
who inquired why they were so sad. "Well," said they, "what has that
got to do with you?  After all, you cannot help us." "Who knows?"
said she. "Just confide your trouble to me." So they told her that
they had been the devil's servants for nearly seven years, and that
he had provided them with gold as though it were hay, but that they
had sold themselves to him, and were forfeited to him, if at the end
of the seven years they could not guess a riddle.

The old woman said, "If you are to be saved, one of you must go into
the forest, there he will come to a fallen rock which looks like a
little house, he must enter that, and then he will obtain help." The
two melancholy ones thought to themselves, "That will still not save
us," and stayed where they were, but the third, the merry one, got up
and walked on in the forest until he found the rockhouse.  In the
little house a very aged woman was sitting, who was the devil's
grandmother, and asked the soldier where he came from, and what he
wanted there.  He told her everything that had happened, and as he
pleased her well, she had pity on him, and said she would help him.
She lifted up a great stone which lay above a cellar, and said,
"Conceal yourself there, you can hear everything that is said here,
only sit still, and do not stir.  When the dragon comes, I will
question him about the riddle, he tells everything to me, so listen
carefully to his answer."

At twelve o'clock at night, the dragon came flying thither, and asked
for his dinner.  The grandmother laid the table, and served up food
and drink, so that he was pleased, and they ate and drank together.
In the course of conversation, she asked him what kind of a day he
had had, and how many souls he had got.  "Nothing went very well
to-day," he answered, "but I have laid hold of three soldiers, I have
them safe." "Indeed? Three soldiers, they're clever, they may escape
you yet." The devil said mockingly, "They are mine.  I will set them
a riddle, which they will never be able to guess." "What riddle is
that?" she inquired. "I will tell you, in the great north sea lies a
dead dogfish, that shall be your roast meat, and the rib of a whale
shall be your silver spoon, and a hollow old horse's hoof shall be
your wineglass."

When the devil had gone to bed, the old grandmother raised up the
stone, and let out the soldier.  "Did you give heed to everything?"
"Yes," said he, "I know enough, and will save myself." Then he had to
go back another way, through the window, secretly and with all speed
to his companions.  He told them how the devil had been outwitted by
the old grandmother, and how he had learned the answer to the riddle
from him.  Then they were all delighted, and of good cheer, and took
the whip and whipped so much gold for themselves that it ran all over
the ground.

When the seven years had fully gone by, the devil came with the book,
showed the signatures, and said, "I will take you with me to hell.
There you shall have a meal.  If you can guess what kind of roast
meat you will have to eat, you shall be free and released from your
bargain, and may keep the whip as well." Then the first soldier began
and said, "In the great north sea lies a dead dogfish, that no doubt
is the roast meat."

The devil was angry, and began to mutter, "Hm. Hm. Hm." And asked the
second, "But what will your spoon be?" "The rib of a whale, that is
to be our silver spoon." The devil made a wry face, again growled,
"Hm. Hm. Hm." He said to the third, "And do you also know what your
wineglass is to be?" "An old horse's hoof is to be our wineglass."
Then the devil flew away with a loud cry, and had no more power over
them, but the three kept the whip, whipped as much money for
themselves with it as they wanted, and lived happily to their end.

Once upon a time lived a man and a woman who so long as they were
rich had no children, but when they were poor they got a little boy.
They could find no godfather for him, so the man said he would just
go to another village to see if he could get one there.  On his way
he met a poor man, who asked him where he was going.  He said he was
going to see if he could get a godfather, because he was so poor that
no one would stand as godfather for him.  "Oh," said the poor man,
"you are poor, and I am poor.  I will be godfather for you, but I am
so badly off I can give the child nothing.  Go home and tell the
midwife that she is to come to the church with the child." When they
all got to the church together, the beggar was already there, and he
gave the child the name of Ferdinand the Faithful.

When he was going out of the church, the beggar said, "Now go home, I
can give you nothing, and you likewise ought to give me nothing." But
he gave a key to the midwife, and told her when she got home she was
to give it to the father, who was to take care of it until the child
was fourteen years old, and then he was to go on the heath where
there was a castle which the key would fit, and that all which was
therein should belong to him.

Now when the child was seven years old and had grown very big, he
once went to play with some other boys, and each of them boasted that
he had got more from his godfather than the other, but the child
could say nothing, and was vexed, and went home and said to his
father, "Did I get nothing at all, then, from my godfather?" "Oh,
yes," said the father, "you have a key.  If there is a castle
standing on the heath, just go to it and open it." Then the boy went
thither, but no castle was to be seen, or heard of.

After seven years more, when he was fourteen years old, he again went
thither, and there stood the castle.  When he had opened it, there
was nothing within but a horse, - a white one.  Then the boy was so
full of joy because he had a horse, that he mounted on it and
galloped back to his father.  "Now I have a white horse, and I will
travel," said he.

So he set out, and as he was on his way, a pen was lying on the road.
At first he thought he would pick it up, but then again he thought to
himself, "You should leave it lying there, you will easily find a pen
where you are going, if you have need of one." As he was thus riding
away, a voice called after him, "Ferdinand the Faithful, take it with
you." He looked around, but saw no one, so he went back again and
picked it up.

When he had ridden a little way farther, he passed by a lake, and a
fish was lying on the bank, gasping and panting for breath, so he
said, "Wait, my dear fish, I will help you to get into the water,"
and he took hold of it by the tail, and threw it into the lake.  Then
the fish put its head out of the water and said, "As you have helped
me out of the mud I will give you a flute.  When you are in any need,
play on it, and then I will help you, and if ever you let anything
fall in the water, just play and I will reach it out to you."

Then he rode away, and there came to him a man who asked him where he
was going.  "Oh, to the next place." "What is your name?" "Ferdinand
the Faithful." "So, then we have almost the same name, I am called
Ferdinand the Unfaithful." And they both set out to the inn in the
nearest place.

Now it was unfortunate that Ferdinand the Unfaithful knew everything
that the other had ever thought and everything he was about to do. He
knew it by means of all kinds of wicked arts.  There was in the inn
an honest girl, who had a bright face and behaved very prettily. She
fell in love with Ferdinand the Faithful because he was a handsome
man, and she asked him whither he was going.  "Oh, I am just
traveling round about," said he.  Then she said he ought to stay
there, for the king of that country wanted an attendant or an
outrider, and he ought to enter his service.  He answered he could
not very well go to any one like that and offer himself.  Then said
the maiden, "Oh, but I will soon do that for you." And so she went
straight to the king, and told him that she knew of an excellent
servant for him.  He was well pleased with that, and had Ferdinand
the Faithful brought to him, and wanted to make him his servant.  He,
however, liked better to be an outrider, for where his horse was,
there he also wanted to be, so the king made him an outrider.

When Ferdinand the Unfaithful learnt that, he said to the girl,
"What? Do you help him and not me?" "Oh," said the girl, "I will help
you too." She thought, I must keep friends with that man, for he is
not to be trusted.  She went to the king, and offered him as a
servant, and the king was willing.

Now when the king met his lords in the morning, he always lamented
and said, "Oh, if I only had my love with me." Ferdinand the
Unfaithful, however, was always hostile to Ferdinand the Faithful. So
once, when the king was complaining thus, he said, "You have the
outrider, send him away to get her, and if he does not do it, his
head must be struck off." Then the king sent for Ferdinand the
Faithful, and told him that there was, in this place or in that
place, a girl he loved, and that he was to bring her to him, and if
he did not do it he should die.  Ferdinand the Faithful went into the
stable to his white horse, and complained and lamented, "Oh, what an
unhappy man am I." Then someone behind him cried, "Ferdinand the
Faithful, why do you weep?" He looked round but saw no one, and went
on lamenting.  "Oh, my dear little white horse, now must I leave you,
now I must die." Then someone cried once more, "Ferdinand the
Faithful, why do you weep?" Then for the first time he was aware that
it was his little white horse who was putting that question.  "Do you
speak, my little white horse?  Can you do that?" And again, he said,
"I am to go to this place and to that, and am to bring the bride.
Can you tell me how I am to set about it?" Then answered the white
horse, "Go to the king, and say if he will give you what you must
have, you will get her for him.  If he will give you a ship full of
meat, and a ship full of bread, it will succeed.  Great giants dwell
on the lake, and if you take no meat with you for them, they will
tear you to pieces, and there are the large birds which would pluck
the eyes out of your head if you had no bread for them.  Then the
king made all the butchers in the land kill, and all the bakers bake,
that the ships might be filled."

When they were full, the little white horse said to Ferdinand the
Faithful, "Now mount me, and go with me into the ship, and then when
the giants come, say - peace, peace, my dear little giants,  I have
had thought of ye,  something I have brought for ye.  And when the
birds come, you shall again say - peace, peace, my dear little birds,
I have had thought of ye,  something I have brought for ye.  Then
they will do nothing to you, and when you come to the castle, the
giants will help you.  Then go up to the castle, and take a couple of
giants with you.  There the princess lies sleeping.  You must,
however, not awaken her, but the giants must lift her up, and carry
her in her bed to the ship." And now everything took place as the
little white horse had said, and Ferdinand the Faithful gave the
giants and the birds what he had brought with him for them, and that
made the giants willing, and they carried the princess in her bed to
the king.  And when she came to the king, she said she could not
live, she must have her writings, they had been left in her castle.

Then by the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, Ferdinand the
Faithful was called, and the king told him he must fetch the writings
from the castle, or he should die.  Then he went once more into the
stable, and bemoaned himself and said, "Oh, my dear little white
horse, now I am to go away again, how am I to do it?" Then the little
white horse said he was just to load the ships full again.  So it
happened again as it had happened before, and the giants and the
birds were satisfied, and made gentle by the meat.  When they came to
the castle, the white horse told Ferdinand the Faithful that he must
go in, and that on the table in the princess's bed-room lay the
writings.  And Ferdinand the Faithful went in, and fetched them. When
they were on the lake, he let his pen fall into the water.  Then said
the white horse, "Now I cannot help you at all." But he remembered
his flute, and began to play on it, and the fish came with the pen in
its mouth, and gave it to him.  So he took the writings to the
castle, where the wedding was celebrated.

The queen, however, did not love the king because he had no nose, but
she would have much liked to love Ferdinand the Faithful.  Once,
therefore, when all the lords of the court were together, the queen
said she could do feats of magic, that she could cut off anyone's
head and put it on again, and that one of them ought just to try it.
But none of them would be the first, so Ferdinand the Faithful, again
at the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, undertook it and she
hewed off his head, and put it on again for him, and it healed
together directly, so that it looked as if he had a red thread round
his throat.  Then the king said to her, "My child, and where have you
learnt that?" "Oh," she said, "I understand the art.  Shall I just
try it on you also." "Oh, yes," said he.  So she cut off his head,
but did not put it on again, and pretended that she could not get it
on, and that it would not stay.  Then the king was buried, but she
married Ferdinand the Faithful.

He, however, always rode on his white horse, and once when he was
seated on it, it told him that he was to go on to the heath which he
knew, and gallop three times round it.  And when he had done that,
the white horse stood up on its hind legs, and was changed into a
king's son.

In the days when wishing was still of some use, a king's son was
bewitched by an old witch, and shut up in an iron stove in a forest.
There he passed many years, and no one could rescue him.  Then a
king's daughter came into the forest, who had lost herself, and could
not find her father's kingdom again.  After she had wandered about
for nine days, she at length came to the iron stove.

Then a voice came forth from it, and asked her, "Whence do you come,
and whither are you going?" She answered, "I have lost my father's
kingdom, and cannot get home again." Then a voice inside the iron
stove said, "I will help you to get home again, and that indeed most
swiftly, if you will promise to do what I desire of you.  I am the
son of a far greater king than your father, and I will marry you."

Then was she afraid, and thought, "Good heavens.  What can I do with
an iron stove?" But as she much wished to get home to her father, she
promised to do as he desired.  But he said, "You shall return here,
and bring a knife with you, and scrape a hole in the iron." Then he
gave her a companion who walked near her, but did not speak, and in
two hours he took her home.  There was great joy in the castle when
the king's daughter came home, and the old king fell on her neck and
kissed her.  She, however, was sorely troubled, and said, "Dear
father, what I have suffered.  I should never have got home again
from the great wild forest, if I had not come to an iron stove, but I
have been forced to give my word that I will go back to it, set it
free, and marry it."

Then the old king was so terrified that he all but fainted, for he
had but this one daughter.  They therefore resolved they would send,
in her place, the miller's daughter, who was very beautiful.  They
took her there, gave her a knife, and said she was to scrape at the
iron stove.  So she scraped at it for four-and-twenty hours, but
could not bring off the least morsel of it.  When the day dawned, a
voice in the stove said, "It seems to me it is day outside." Then she
answered, "It seems so to me too, I fancy I hear the noise of my
father's mill." "So you are a miller's daughter.  Then go your way at
once, and let the king's daughter come here."

Then she went away at once, and told the old king that the man
outside there would have none of her - he wanted the king's daughter.
Then the old king grew frightened, and the daughter wept.  But there
was a swine-herd's daughter, who was even prettier than the miller's
daughter, and they determined to give her a piece of gold to go to
the iron stove instead of the king's daughter.  So she was taken
thither and she also had to scrape for four-and-twenty hours.  She,
however, was no better at it.  When the day broke, a voice inside the
stove cried, "It seems to me it is day outside." Then answered she,
"So it seems to me also, I fancy I hear my father's horn blowing."
"Then you are a swineherd's daughter.  Go away at once, and tell the
king's daughter to come, and tell her all must be done as promised,
and if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall be ruined
and destroyed, and not one stone be left standing on another."

When the king's daughter heard that she began to weep, but now there
was nothing for it but to keep her promise.  So she took leave of her
father, put a knife in her pocket, and went forth to the iron stove
in the forest.  When she got there, she began to scrape, and the iron
gave way, and when two hours were over, she had already scraped a
small hole. Then she peeped in, and saw a youth so handsome, and so
brilliant with gold and with precious jewels, that her very soul was
delighted.  So she went on scraping, and made the hole so large that
he was able to get out.

Then said he, "You are mine, and I am yours, you are my bride, and
have released me." He wanted to take her away with him to his
kingdom, but she entreated him to let her go once again to her
father, and the king's son allowed her to do so, but she was not to
say more to her father than three words, and then she was to come
back again. So she went home, but she spoke more than three words,
and instantly the iron stove disappeared, and was taken far away over
glass mountains and piercing swords, but the king's son was set free,
and no longer shut up in it.  After this she bade good-bye to her
father, took some money with her, but not much, and went back to the
great forest, and looked for the iron stove, but it was nowhere to be
found.

For nine days she sought it, and then her hunger grew so great that
she did not know what to do, for she had nothing to live on.  When it
was evening, she seated herself in a small tree, and made up her mind
to spend the night there, as she was afraid of wild beasts.  When
midnight drew near she saw in the distance a small light, and
thought, ah, there I should be saved.  She got down from the tree,
and went towards the light, but on the way she prayed.  Then she came
to a little old house, and much grass had grown all about it, and a
small heap of wood lay in front of it.  She thought, "Ah, whither
have I come?" and peeped in through the window, but she saw nothing
inside but toads, big and little, except a table covered with wine
and roast meat, and the plates and glasses were of silver.  Then she
took courage, and knocked at the door, and immediately the fat toad
cried,
	"Little green waiting-maid,
	Waiting-maid with the limping leg,
	Little dog of the limping leg,
	Hop hither and thither,
	And quickly see who is without."

And a small toad came walking by and opened the door to her. When she
entered, they all bade her welcome, and she was forced to sit down.
They asked, "Where have you come from, and whither are you going?"
Then she related all that had befallen her, and how because she had
transgressed the order which had been given her not to say more than
three words, the stove, and the king's son also, had disappeared, and
now she was about to seek him over the hill and dale until she found
him.  Then the old fat one said,
	"Little green waiting-maid,
	Waiting-maid with the limping leg,
	Little dog of the limping leg,
	Hop hither and thither,
	And bring me the great box."

Then the little one went and brought the box.  After this they gave
her meat and drink, and took her to a well-made bed, which felt like
silk and velvet, and she laid herself therein, in God's name, and
slept.  When morning came she arose, and the old toad gave her three
needles out of the great box which she was to take with her, they
would be needed by her, for she had to cross a high glass mountain,
and go over three piercing swords and a great lake. If she did all
this she would get her lover back again.

Then she gave her three things, which she was to take the greatest
care of, namely, three large needles, a plough-wheel, and three nuts.
With these she traveled onwards, and when she came to the glass
mountain which was so slippery, she stuck the three needles first
behind her feet and then before them, and so got over it, and when
she was over it, she hid them in a place which she marked carefully.
After this she came to the three piercing swords, and then she seated
herslef on her plough-wheel, and rolled over them.  At last she
arrived in front of a great lake, and when she had crossed it, she
came to a large and beautiful castle.  She went and asked for a
place, she was a poor girl, she said, and would like to be hired.
She knew, however, that the king's son whom she had released from the
iron stove in the great forest was in the castle.  Then she was taken
as a scullery-maid at low wages.  But already the king's son had
another maiden by his side whom he wanted to marry, for he thought
that she had long been dead.

In the evening, when she had washed up and was done, she felt in her
pocket and found the three nuts which the old toad had given her.
She cracked one with her teeth, and was going to eat the kernel when
lo and behold there was a stately royal garment in it.  But when the
bride heard of this she came and asked for the dress, and wanted to
buy it, and said, "It is not a dress for a servant-girl." "No," she
said, she would not sell it, but if the bride would grant her one
thing she should have it, and that was permission to sleep one night
in her bridegroom's chamber.  The bride gave her permission because
the dress was so pretty, and she had never had one like it.

When it was evening she said to her bridegroom, "That silly girl will
sleep in your room." "If you are willing, so am I," said he.  She,
however, gave him a glass of wine in which she had poured a
sleeping-draught.  So the bridegroom and the scullery-maid went to
sleep in the room, and he slept so soundly that she could not waken
him. She wept the whole night and cried, "I set you free when you
were in an iron stove in the wild forest, I sought you, and walked
over a glass mountain, and three sharp swords, and a great lake
before I found you, and yet you will not hear me." The servants sat
by the chamber-door, and heard how she thus wept the whole night
through, and in the morning they told it to their lord.

And the next evening when she had washed up, she opened the second
nut, and a far more beautiful dress was within it, and when the bride
beheld it, she wished to buy that also. But the girl would not take
money, and begged that she might once again sleep in the bridegroom's
chamber.  The bride, however, gave him a sleeping-draught, and he
slept so soundly that he could hear nothing.  But the scullery-maid
wept the whole night long, and cried, "I set you free when you were
in an iron stove in the wild forest, I sought you, and walked over a
glass mountain, and over three sharp swords and a great lake before I
found you, and yet you will not hear me." The servants sat by the
chamber-door and heard her weeping the whole night through, and in
the morning informed their lord of it.

And on the third evening, when she had washed up, she opened the
third nut, and within it was a still more beautiful dress which was
stiff with pure gold.  When the bride saw that she wanted to have it,
but the maiden only gave it up on condition that she might for the
third time sleep in the bridegroom's apartment.  The king's son,
however, was on his guard, and threw the sleeping-draught away.  Now
when she began to weep and to cry, "Dearest love, I set you free when
you were in the iron stove in the terrible wild forest" - the king's
son leapt up and said, "You are the true one, you are mine, and I am
yours."

Thereupon, while it was still night, he got into a carriage with her,
and they took away the false bride's clothes so that she could not
get up.  When they came to the great lake, they sailed across it, and
when they reached the three sharp-cutting swords they seated
themselves on the plough-wheel, and when they got to the glass
mountain they thrust the three needles in it, and so at length they
got to the little old house, but when they went inside, it was a
great castle, and the toads were all disenchanted, and were king's
children, and full of happiness.  Then the wedding was celebrated,
and the king's son and the princess remained in the castle, which was
much larger than the castle of their fathers.  But as the old king
grieved at being left alone, they fetched him away, and brought him
to live with them, and they had two kingdoms, and lived in happy
wedlock.
	A mouse did run,
	This story is done.
There was once a poor man who had four sons, and when they were grown
up, he said to them, "My dear children, you must now go out into the
world, for I have nothing to give you, so set out, go abroad and
learn a trade, and see how you can make your way." So the four
brothers took their sticks, bade their father farewell, and went
through the town-gate together.  When they had traveled about for
some time, they came to a crossroads which branched off in four
different directions.  Then said the eldest, "Here we must separate,
but on this day four years hence, we will meet each other again at
this spot, and in the meantime we will seek our fortunes."

Then each of them went his way, and the eldest met a man who asked
him where he was going, and what he was intending to do. "I want to
learn a trade," he replied.  Then the other said, "Come with me," and
be a thief.  "No," he answered, "that is no longer regarded as a
reputable trade, and the end of it is that one has to swing on the
gallows." "Oh," said the man, "you need not be afraid of the gallows,
I will only teach you to get such things as no other man could ever
lay hold of, and no one will ever detect you." So he allowed himself
to be talked into it, and while with the man became an accomplished
thief, and so dexterous that nothing was safe from him, if he once
desired to have it.

The second brother met a man who put the same question to him - what
he wanted to learn in the world.  "I don't know yet," he replied.
"Then come with me, and be an astronomer, there is nothing better
than that, for nothing is hid from you." He liked the idea, and
became such a skillful astronomer that when he had learnt everything,
and was about to travel onwards, his master gave him a telescope and
said to him, "With that you can see whatsoever takes place either on
earth or in heaven, and nothing can remain concealed from you."

A huntsman took the third brother into training, and gave him such
excellent instruction in everything which related to huntsmanship
that he became an experienced hunter.  When he went away, his master
gave him a gun and said, "It will never fail you, whatsoever you aim
at, you are certain to hit." The youngest brother also met a man who
spoke to him, and inquired what his intentions were.  "Would you not
like to be a tailor?" said he.  "Not that I know of," said the youth,
"sitting doubled up from morning till night, driving the needle and
the goose backwards and forwards, is not to my taste." "Oh, but you
are speaking in ignorance," answered the man.  "With me you would
learn a very different kind of tailoring, which is respectable and
proper, and for the most part very honorable." So he let himself be
persuaded, and went with the man, and learnt his art from the very
beginning.  When they parted, the man gave the youth a needle, and
said, "With this you can sew together whatever is given you, whether
it is as soft as an egg or as hard as steel, and it will all become
one piece of stuff, so that no seam will be visible."

When the appointed four years were over, the four brothers arrived at
the same time at the cross-roads, embraced and kissed each other, and
returned home to their father.  "So now," said he, quite delighted,
"the wind has blown you back again to me." They told him of all that
had happened to them, and that each had learnt his own trade.  Now
they were sitting just in front of the house under a large tree, and
the father said, "I will put you all to the test, and see what you
can do." Then he looked up and said to his second son, "Between two
branches up at the top of this tree, there is a chaffinch's nest,
tell me how many eggs there are in it." The astronomer took his
glass, looked up and said, "There are five." Then the father said to
the eldest, "Fetch the eggs down without disturbing the bird which is
sitting hatching them." The skillful thief climbed up, and took the
five eggs from beneath the bird, which never observed what he was
doing, and remained quietly sitting where she was, and brought them
down to his father.

The father took them, and put one of them on each corner of the
table, and the fifth in the middle, and said to the huntsman, "With
one shot you shall shoot me the five eggs in two, through the
middle." The huntsman aimed, and shot the eggs, all five as the
father had desired, and that at one shot.  He certainly must have had
some of the powder for shooting round corners.  "Now it's your turn,"
said the father to the fourth son, "You shall sew the eggs together
again, and the young birds that are inside them as well, and you must
do it so that they are not hurt by the shot." The tailor brought his
needle, and sewed them as his father wished.  When he had done this
the thief had to climb up the tree again, and carry them to the nest,
and put them back again under the bird without her being aware of it.
The bird sat her full time, and after a few days the young ones crept
out, and they had a red line round their necks where they had been
sewn together by the tailor.

"Well," said the old man to his sons, "you really ought to be praised
to the skies, you have used your time well, and learnt something
good.  I can't say which of you deserves the most praise. That will
be proved if you have but an early opportunity of using your
talents." Not long after this, there was a great uproar in the
country, for the king's daughter was carried off by a dragon. The
king was full of trouble about it, both by day an night, and caused
it to be proclaimed that whosoever brought her back should have her
to wife.

The four brothers said to each other, "This would be a fine
opportunity for us to show what we can do." And resolved to go forth
together and liberate the king's daughter. "I will soon know where
she is," said the astronomer, and looked through his telescope and
said, "I see her already, she is far away from here on a rock in the
sea, and the dragon is beside her watching her."

Then he went to the king, and asked for a ship for himself and his
brothers, and sailed with them over the sea until they came to the
rock.  There the king's daughter was sitting, and the dragon was
lying asleep on her lap.  The huntsman said, "I dare not fire, I
should kill the beautiful maiden at the same time." "Then I will try
my art," said the thief, and he crept thither and stole her away from
under the dragon, so quietly and dexterously, that the monster never
noticed it, but went on snoring.

Full of joy, they hurried off with her on board ship, and steered out
into the open sea, but the dragon, who when he awoke had found no
princess there, followed them, and came snorting angrily through the
air.  Just as he was circling above the ship, and about to descend on
it, the huntsman shouldered his gun, and shot him to the heart.  The
monster fell down dead, but was so large and powerful that his fall
shattered the whole ship.  Fortunately, however, they laid hold of a
couple of planks, and swam about the wide sea.

Then again they were in great peril, but the tailor, who was not
idle, took his wondrous needle, and with a few stitches sewed the
planks together and they seated themselves upon them, and collected
together all the fragments of the vessel.  Then he sewed these so
skillfully together, that in a very short time the ship was once more
seaworthy, and they could go home again in safety.

When the king once more saw his daughter, there were great
rejoicings.  He said to the four brothers, one of you shall have her
to wife, but which of you it is to be you must settle among
yourselves.  Then a heated argument arose among them, for each of
them preferred his own claim.  The astronomer said, "If I had not
seen the princess, all your arts would have been useless, so she is
mine." The thief said, "What would have been the use of your seeing,
if I had not got her away from the dragon.  So she is mine." The
huntsman said, "You and the princess, and all of you, would have been
torn to pieces by the dragon if my ball had not hit him, so she is
mine." The tailor said, "And if I, by my art, had not sewn the ship
together again, you would all of you have been miserably drowned, so
she is mine."

Then the king pronounced his verdict, each of you has an equal right,
and as all of you cannot have the maiden, none of you shall have her,
but I will give to each of you, as a reward, half a kingdom.  The
brothers were pleased with this decision, and said, it is better thus
than that we should be at variance with each other.  Then each of
them received half a kingdom, and they lived with their father in the
greatest happiness as long as it pleased God.
There was once a woman who had three daughters, the eldest of whom
was called One-Eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her
forehead, and the second, Two-Eyes, because she had two eyes like
other folks, and the youngest, Three-Eyes, because she had three
eyes, and her third eye was also in the center of her forehead.
However, as Two-Eyes saw just as other human beings did, her sisters
and her mother could not endure her.  They said to her, "You, with
your two eyes, are no better than the common people, you do not
belong to us." They pushed her about, and threw old clothes to her,
and gave her nothing to eat but what they left, and did everything
that they could to make her unhappy.

It came to pass that Two-Eyes had to go out into the fields and tend
the goat, but she was still quite hungry, because her sisters had
given her so little to eat.  So she sat down on a ridge and began to
weep, and so bitterly that two streams ran down from her eyes.  And
once when she looked up in her grief, a woman was standing beside
her, who said, "Why are you weeping, little Two-Eyes?" Two-Eyes
answered, "Have I not reason to weep, when I have two eyes like other
people, and my sisters and mother hate me for it, and push me from
one corner to another, throw old clothes to me, and give me nothing
to eat but the scraps they leave.  Today they have given me so little
that I am still quite hungry." Then the wise woman said, "Wipe away
your tears, Two-Eyes, and I will tell you something to stop your ever
suffering from hunger again.  Just say to your goat -
	 `Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
	 Cover the table with something to eat,'
and then a clean well-spread little table will stand before you with
the most delicious food upon it of which you may eat as much as you
are inclined for, and when you have had enough, and have no more need
of the little table, just say,
	 `Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
	 and take the table quite away,'
and then it will vanish again from your sight." Hereupon the wise
woman departed.  But Two-Eyes thought, "I must instantly make a
trial, and see if what she said is true, for I am far too hungry,"
and she said -
	 "Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
	 Cover the table with something to eat,"
and scarcely had she spoken the words than a little table, covered
with a white cloth, was standing there, and on it was a plate with a
knife and fork, and a silver spoon, and the most delicious food was
there also, warm and smoking as if it had just come out of the
kitchen.  Then Two-Eyes said the shortest prayer she knew, "Lord God,
be our guest forever, amen," and helped herself to some food, and
enjoyed it.  And when she was satisfied, she said, as the wise woman
had taught her -
	 "Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
	 And take the table quite away,"
and immediately the little table and everything on it was gone again.
That is a delightful way of keeping house, thought Two-Eyes, and was
quite glad and happy.

In the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a small
earthenware dish with some food, which her sisters had set ready for
her, but she did not touch it.  Next day she again went out with her
goat, and left the few bits of broken bread which had been handed to
her, lying untouched.  The first and second time that she did this,
her sisters did not notice it at all, but as it happened every time,
they did observe it, and said, "There is something wrong about
Two-Eyes, she always leaves her food untasted, and she used to eat up
everything that was given her, she must have discovered other ways of
getting food." In order that they might learn the truth, they
resolved to send One-Eye with Two-Eyes when she went to drive her
goat to the pasture, to observe what Two-Eyes did when she was there,
and whether anyone brought her anything to eat and drink.

So when Two-Eyes set out the next time, One-Eye went to her and said,
"I will go with you to the pasture, and see that the goat is well
taken care of, and driven where there is food." But Two-Eyes knew
what was in One-Eye's mind, and drove the goat into high grass and
said, "Come, One-Eye, we will sit down, and I will sing something to
you." One-Eye sat down and was tired with the unaccustomed walk and
the heat of the sun, and Two-Eyes sang constantly -
	 "One-eye, are you waking?
	 One-eye, are you sleeping?"
Until One-Eye shut her one eye, and fell asleep, and as soon as
Two-Eyes saw that One-Eye was fast asleep, and could discover
nothing, she said,
	 "Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
	 Cover the table with something to eat,"
and seated herself at her table, and ate and drank until she was
satisfied, and then she again cried -
	 "Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
	 And take the table quite away,"
and in an instant all had vanished.  Two-Eyes now awakened One-Eye,
and said, "One-Eye, you want to take care of the goat, and go to
sleep while you are doing it, but in the meantime the goat might run
all over the world.  Come, let us go home again."

So they went home, and again Two-Eyes let her dish stand untouched,
and One-Eye could not tell her mother why she would not eat it, and
to excuse herself said, "I fell asleep when I was out." Next day the
mother said to Three-Eyes, this time you shall go and observe if
Two-Eyes eats anything when she is out, and if anyone fetches her
food and drink, for she must eat and drink in secret.  So Three-Eyes
went to Two-Eyes, and said, "I will go with you and see if the goat
is taken proper care of, and driven where there is food." But
Two-Eyes knew what was in Three-Eyes' mind, and drove the goat into
high grass and said, "We will sit down, and I will sing something to
you, Three-Eyes." Three-Eyes sat down and was tired with the walk and
with the heat of the sun, and Two-Eyes began the same song as before,
and sang -
	 "Three-Eyes, are you waking?"

But then, instead of singing -
	 "Three-Eyes, are you sleeping?"

As she ought to have done, she thoughtlessly sang -
	 "Two-Eyes, are you sleeping?"

And sang all the time -
	 "Three-Eyes, are you waking?
	 Two-Eyes, are you sleeping?"

Then two of the eyes which Three-Eyes had, shut and fell asleep, but
the third, as it had not been named in the song, did not sleep.  It
is true that three-eyes shut it, but only in her cunning, to pretend
it was asleep too, but it blinked, and could see everything very
well.  And when two-eyes thought that three-eyes was fast asleep, she
used her little charm -
	 "Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
	 Cover the table with something to eat,"
and ate and drank as much as her heart desired, and then ordered the
table to go away again,
	 "Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
	 And take the table quite away,"
and Three-Eyes had seen everything.  Then Two-Eyes came to her, waked
her and said, "Have you been asleep, Three-Eyes?  You keep watch very
well.  Come, we will go home." And when they got home, Two-Eyes again
did not eat, and Three-Eyes said to the mother, "Now, I know why that
haughty thing there does not eat. When she is out, she says to the
goat -
	 `Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
	 Cover the table with something to eat,'
and then a little table appears before her covered with the best of
food, much better than any we have here, and when she has eaten all
she wants, she says -
	 `Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
	 And take the table quite away,'
and all disappears.  I watched everything closely.  She put two of my
eyes to sleep by means of a charm, but luckily the one in my forehead
kept awake."

Then the envious mother cried, "Do you want to fare better than we
do?  The desire shall pass from you," and she fetched a butcher's
knife, and thrust it into the heart of the goat, which fell down
dead. When Two-Eyes saw that, she went out full of sadness, seated
herself on the ridge of grass at the edge of the field, and wept
bitter tears.  Suddenly the wise woman once more stood by her side,
and said, "Two-Eyes, why are you weeping?" "Have I not reason to
weep?" she answered.  "The goat which covered the table for me every
day when I spoke your charm, has been killed by my mother, and now I
shall again have to bear hunger and want." The wise woman said,
"Two-Eyes, I will give you a piece of good advice, ask your sisters
to give you the entrails of the slaughtered goat, and bury them in
the ground in front of the house, and your fortune will be made."
Then she vanished, and Two-Eyes went home and said to her sisters,
"Dear sisters, do give me some part of my goat, I don't wish for what
is good, but give me the entrails." Then they laughed and said, "If
that's all you want, you can have it." So Two-Eyes took the entrails
and buried them quietly in the evening, in front of the house-door,
as the wise woman had counseled her to do.

Next morning, when they all awoke, and went to the house-door, there
stood a strangely magnificent tree with leaves of silver, and fruit
of gold hanging among them, so that in all the wide world there was
nothing more beautiful or precious.  They did not know how the tree
could have come there during the night, but Two-Eyes saw that it had
grown up out of the entrails of the goat, for it was standing on the
exact spot where she had buried them.  Then the mother said to
One-Eye, "Climb up, my child, and gather some of the fruit of the
tree for us." One-eye climbed up, but when she was about to get hold
of one of the golden apples, the branch escaped from her hands, and
that happened each time, so that she could not pluck a single apple,
let her do what she might.  Then said the mother, "Three-Eyes, you
climb up, you with your three eyes can look about you better than
One-Eye." One-Eye slipped down, and Three-Eyes climbed up.
Three-Eyes was not more skillful, and might try as she would, but the
golden apples always escaped her.

At length the mother grew impatient, and climbed up herself, but
could get hold of the fruit no better than One-Eye and Three-Eyes,
for she always clutched empty air.  Then said Two-Eyes, "Let me go
up, perhaps I may succeed better." The sisters cried, "You indeed,
with your two eyes, what can you do?" But Two-Eyes climbed up, and
the golden apples did not avoid her, but came into her hand of their
own accord, so that she could pluck them one after the other, and
brought a whole apronful down with her. The mother took them away
from her, and instead of treating poor Two-Eyes any better for this,
she and One-Eye and Three-Eyes were only envious, because Two-Eyes
alone had been able to get the fruit, and they treated her still more
cruelly.

It so befell that once when they were all standing together by the
tree, a young knight came up.  "Quick, Two-Eyes," cried the two
sisters, "creep under this, and don't disgrace us," and with all
speed they turned an empty barrel which was standing close by the
tree over poor Two-Eyes, and they swept the golden apples which she
had been gathering, under it too.  When the knight came nearer he was
a handsome lord, who stopped and admired the magnificent gold and
silver tree, and said to the two sisters, "To whom does this fine
tree belong?  Anyone who would bestow one branch of it on me might in
return for it ask whatsoever he desired." Then One-Eye and Three-Eyes
replied that the tree belonged to them, and that they would give him
a branch.  They both took great trouble, but they were not able to do
it, for the branches and fruit both moved away from them every time.
Then said the knight, "It is very strange that the tree should belong
to you, and that you should not have the power to break a piece off."
They again asserted that the tree was their property.

Whilst they were saying so, Two-Eyes rolled out a couple of golden
apples from under the barrel to the feet of the knight, for she was
vexed with One-Eye and Three-Eyes, for not speaking the truth.  When
the knight saw the apples he was astonished, and asked where they
came from.  One-Eye and Three-Eyes answered that they had another
sister, who was not allowed to show herself, for she had only two
eyes like any common person.  The knight, however, desired to see
her, and cried, "Two-Eyes, come forth." Then Two-Eyes, quite
comforted, came from beneath the barrel, and the knight was surprised
at her great beauty, and said, "You, Two-Eyes, can certainly break
off a branch from the tree for me." "Yes," replied Two-Eyes, "that I
certainly shall be able to do, for the tree belongs to me." And she
climbed up, and with the greatest ease broke off a branch with
beautiful silver leaves and golden fruit, and gave it to the knight.
Then said the knight, "Two-Eyes, what shall I give you for it?"
"Alas, answered two-eyes, "I suffer from hunger and thirst, grief and
want, from early morning till late night.  If you would take me with
you, and rescue me, I should be happy." So the knight lifted Two-Eyes
on to his horse, and took her home with him to his father's castle,
and there he gave her beautiful clothes, and meat and drink to her
heart's content, and as he loved her so much he married her, and the
wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing.

When Two-Eyes was thus carried away by the handsome knight, her two
sisters grudged her good fortune in downright earnest. "The wonderful
tree, however, still remains with us," thought they, "and even if we
can gather no fruit from it, still every one will stand still and
look at it, and come to us and admire it.  Who knows what good things
may be in store for us." But next morning, the tree had vanished, and
all their hopes were at an end.  And when Two-Eyes looked out of the
window of her own room, to her great delight it was standing in front
of it, and so it had followed her.

Two-Eyes lived a long time in happiness.  Once two poor women came to
her in her castle, and begged for alms.  She looked in their faces,
and recognized her sisters, One-Eye, and Three-Eyes, who had fallen
into such poverty that they had to wander about and beg their bread
from door to door.  Two-Eyes, however, made them welcome, and was
kind to them, and took care of them, so that they both with all their
hearts repented the evil that they had done their sister in their
youth.
"Good-day, father hollenthe." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie." "May I
be allowed to have your daughter?" "Oh, yes, if mother malcho
milchcow, brother high-and-mighty, sister kasetraut, and fair
katrinelje are willing, you can have her." "Where is mother malcho,
then?" "She is in the cow-house, milking the cow."

"Good-day, mother malcho." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie." "May I be
allowed to have your daughter?" "Oh, yes, if father hollenthe,
brother high-and-mighty, sister kasetraut, and fair katrinelje are
willing, you can have her." "Where is brother high-and-mighty, then?"
"He is in the room chopping some wood."

"Good-day, brother high-and-mighty." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie."
"May I be allowed to have your sister?" "Oh, yes, if father
hollenthe, mother malcho, sister kasetraut, and fair katrinelje are
willing, you can have her." "Where is sister kasetraut, then?" "She
is in the garden cutting cabbages."

"Good-day, sister kasetraut." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie." "May I
be allowed to have your sister?" "Oh, yes, if father hollenthe,
mother malcho, brother high-and-mighty, and fair katrinelje are
willing, you may have her." "Where is fair katrinelje, then." "She is
in the room counting out her farthings."

"Good day, fair katrinelje." "Many thanks, pif-paf-poltrie." "Will
you be my bride?" "Oh, yes, if father hollenthe, mother malcho,
brother high-and-mighty, and sister kasetraut are willing, I am
ready."

"Fair katrinelje, how much dowry do you have?" "Fourteen farthings in
ready money, three and a half groschen owing to me, half a pound of
dried apples, a handful of pretzels, and a handful of roots.
	And many other things are mine,
	Have I not a dowry fine?"

"Pif-paf-poltrie, what is your trade?  Are you a tailor?" "Something
better." "A shoemaker?" "Something better." "A husbandman?"
"Something better." "A joiner?" "Something better." "A smith?"
"Something better." "A miller?" "Something better." "Perhaps a
broom-maker?" "Yes, that's what I am, is it not a fine trade?"
There was once upon a time a king who had twelve daughters, each one
more beautiful than the other.  They all slept together in one
chamber, in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when
they were in them the king locked the door, and bolted it.  But in
the morning when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were
worn out with dancing, and no one could find out how that had come to
pass.  Then the king caused it to be proclaimed that whosoever could
discover where they danced at night, should choose one of them for
his wife and be king after his death, but that whosoever came forward
and had not discovered it within three days and nights, should have
forfeited his life.

It was not long before a king's son presented himself, and offered to
undertake the enterprise. He was well received, and in the evening
was led into a room adjoining the princesses, sleeping-chamber.  His
bed was placed there, and he was to observe where they went and
danced, and in order that they might do nothing secretly or go away
to some other place, the door of their room was left open. But the
eyelids of the prince grew heavy as lead, and he fell asleep, and
when he awoke in the morning, all twelve had been to the dance, for
their shoes were standing there with holes in the soles.  On the
second and third nights there was no difference, and then his head
was struck off without mercy.

Many others came after this and undertook the enterprise, but all
forfeited their lives.  Now it came to pass that a poor soldier, who
had a wound, and could serve no longer, found himself on the road to
the town where the king lived.  There he met an old woman, who asked
him where he was going.  "I hardly know myself," answered he, and
added in jest, "I had half a mind to discover where the princesses
danced their shoes into holes, and thus become king." "That is not so
difficult," said the old woman, "you must not drink the wine which
will be brought to you at night, and must pretend to be sound
asleep." With that she gave him a little cloak, and said, "If you
wear this, you will be invisible, and then you can steal after the
twelve." When the soldier had received this good advice, he fell to
in earnest, took heart, went to the king, and announced himself as a
suitor.  He was as well received as the others, and royal garments
were put upon him.  He was conducted that evening at bed-time into
the antechamber, and as he was about to go to bed, the eldest came
and brought him a cup of wine, but he had tied a sponge under his
chin, and let the wine run down into it, without drinking a drop.

Then he lay down and when he had lain a while, he began to snore, as
if in the deepest sleep.  The twelve princesses heard that, and
laughed, and the eldest said, "He, too, might as well have saved his
life." With that they got up, opened wardrobes, presses, cupboards,
and brought out pretty dresses, dressed themselves before the
mirrors, sprang about, and rejoiced at the prospect of the dance.
Only the youngest said, "I know not how it is, you are very happy,
but I feel very strange, some misfortune is certainly about to befall
us." "You are a goose, who are always frightened," said the eldest.
"Have you forgotten how many kings' sons have already come here in
vain.  I had hardly any need to give the soldier a sleeping-draught,
the booby would not have awakened anyway."

When they were all ready they looked carefully at the soldier, but he
had closed his eyes and did not move or stir, so they felt themselves
safe enough.  The eldest then went to her bed and tapped it,
whereupon it immediately sank into the earth, and one after the other
they descended through the opening, the eldest going first.  The
soldier, who had watched everything, tarried no longer, put on his
little cloak, and went down last with the youngest.  Half-way down
the steps, he just trod a little on her dress, she was terrified at
that, and cried out, "What is that?  Who is pulling my dress?" "Don't
be so silly," said the eldest, "you have caught it on a nail."

Then they went all the way down, and when they were at the bottom,
they were standing in a wonderfully pretty avenue of trees, all the
leaves of which were of silver, and shone and glistened. The soldier
thought, "I must carry a token away with me," and broke off a twig
from one of them, on which the tree cracked with a loud report.  The
youngest cried out again.  "Something is wrong, did you hear the
crack?" But the eldest said, "It is a gun fired for joy, because we
have got rid of our prince so quickly." After that they came into an
avenue where all the leaves were of gold, and lastly into a third
where they were of bright diamonds, he broke off a twig from each,
which made such a crack each time that the youngest started back in
terror, but the eldest still maintained that they were salutes.

They went on and came to a great lake whereon stood twelve little
boats, and in every boat sat a handsome prince, all of whom were
waiting for the twelve, and each took one of them with him, but the
soldier seated himself by the youngest.  Then her prince said, "I
wonder why the boat is so much heavier to-day. I shall have to row
with all my strength, if I am to get it across." "What should cause
that," said the youngest, "but the warm weather?" "I feel very warm
too." On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid, brightly-lit
castle, from whence resounded the joyous music of trumpets and
kettle-drums.  They rowed there, entered, and each prince danced with
the girl he loved, but the soldier danced with them unseen, and when
one of them had a cup of wine in her hand he drank it up, so that the
cup was empty when she carried it to her mouth, the youngest was
alarmed at this, but the eldest always silenced her.  They danced
there till three o'clock in the morning when all the shoes were
danced into holes, and they were forced to leave off, the princes
rowed them back again over the lake, and this time the soldier seated
himself by the eldest.

On the shore they took leave of their princes, and promised to return
the following night.  When they reached the stairs the soldier ran on
in front and lay down in his bed, and when the twelve had come up
slowly and wearily, he was already snoring so loudly that they could
all hear him, and they said, "So far as he is concerned, we are
safe." They took off their beautiful dresses, laid them away, put the
worn-out shoes under the bed, and lay down.  Next morning the soldier
was resolved not to speak, but to watch the wonderful goings-on, and
again went with them a second and a third night.

Then everything was just as it had been the first time, and each time
they danced until their shoes were worn to pieces.  But the third
time he took a cup away with him as a token.  When the hour had
arrived for him to give his answer, he took the three twigs and the
cup, and went to the king, but the twelve stood behind the door, and
listened for what he was going to say.  When the king put the
question, "Where have my twelve daughters danced their shoes to
pieces in the night?" He answered, "In an underground castle with
twelve princes," and related how it had come to pass, and brought out
the tokens.  The king then summoned his daughters, and asked them if
the soldier had told the truth, and when they saw that they were
betrayed, and that falsehood would be of no avail, they were obliged
to confess all.  Thereupon the king asked which of them he would have
to wife.  He answered, "I am no longer young, so give me the eldest."
Then the wedding was celebrated on the self-same day, and the kingdom
was promised him after the king's death.  But the princes were
bewitched for as many days as they had danced nights with the twelve.
In olden times there lived an aged queen who was a sorceress, and her
daughter was the most beautiful maiden under the sun.  The old woman,
however, had no other thought than how to lure mankind to
destruction, and when a wooer appeared, she said that whosoever
wished to have her daughter, must first perform a task, or die.  Many
had been dazzled by the daughter's beauty, and had actually risked
this, but they never could accomplish what the old woman enjoined
them to do, and then no mercy was shown, they had to kneel down, and
their heads were struck off.

A certain king's son who had also heard of the maiden's beauty, said
to his father, "Let me go there, I want to demand her in marriage."
"Never," answered the king, "if you were to go, it would be going to
your death." On this the son lay down and was sick unto death, and
for seven years he lay there, and no physician could heal him. When
the father perceived that all hope was over, with a heavy heart he
said to him, "Go thither, and try your luck, for I know no other
means of curing you." When the son heard that, he rose from his bed
and was well again, and joyfully set out on his way.

And it came to pass that as he was riding across a heath, he saw from
afar something like a great heap of hay laying on the ground, and
when he drew nearer, he could see that it was the stomach of a man,
who had laid himself down there, but the stomach looked like a small
mountain.  When the fat man saw the traveler, he stood up and said,
"If you are in need of any one, take me into your service." The
prince answered, "What can I do with such a clumsy man?" "Oh," said
the stout one, "this is nothing, when I really puff myself up, I am
three thousand times fatter." "If that's the case," said the prince,
"I can make use of you, come with me."

So the stout one followed the prince, and after a while they found
another man who was lying on the ground with his ear laid to the
turf.  "What are you doing there?" asked the king's son.  "I am
listening," replied the man.  "What are you listening to so
attentively?" "I am listening to what is just going on in the world,
for nothing escapes my ears, I even hear the grass growing." "Tell
me," said the prince, "what you hear at the court of the old queen
who has the beautiful daughter." Then he answered, "I hear the
whizzing of the sword that is striking off a wooer's head." The
king's son said, "I can make use of you, come with me."

They went onwards, and then saw a pair of feet lying and part of a
pair of legs, but could not see the rest of the body.  When they had
walked on for a great distance, they came to the body, and at last to
the head also.  "Why," said the prince, "what a tall rascal you are."
"Oh," replied the tall one, "that is nothing at all yet, when I
really stretch out my limbs, I am three thousand times as tall, and
taller than the highest mountain on earth.  I will gladly enter your
service, if you will take me." "Come with me," said the prince, "I
can make use of you."

They went onwards and found a man sitting by the road who had bound
up his eyes.  The prince said to him, "Have you weak eyes, that you
cannot look at the light?" "No," replied the man, "but I must not
remove the bandage, for whatsoever I look at with my eyes, splits to
pieces, so powerful is my glance.  If you can use that, I shall be
glad to serve you." "Come with me," replied the king's son, "I can
make use of you."

They journeyed onwards and found a man who was lying in the hot
sunshine, trembling and shivering all over his body, so that not a
limb was still.  "How can you shiver when the sun is shining so
warm?" said the king's son.  "Alas," replied the man, "I am of quite
a different nature.  The hotter it is, the colder I am, and the frost
pierces through all my bones, and the colder it is, the hotter I am.
In the midst of ice, I cannot endure the heat, nor in the midst of
fire, the cold." "You are a strange fellow," said the prince, "but if
you will enter my service, follow me."

They traveled onwards, and saw a man standing who made a long neck
and looked about him, and could see over all the mountains.  "What
are you looking at so eagerly?" said the king's son.  The man
replied, "I have such sharp eyes that I can see into every forest and
field, and hill and valley, all over the world." The prince said,
"Come with me if you will, for I am still in want of such an one."

And now the king's son and his six servants came to the town where
the aged queen dwelt.  He did not tell her who he was, but said, "If
you will give me your beautiful daughter, I will perform any task you
set me." The sorceress was delighted to get such a handsome youth as
this into her net, and said, "I will set you three tasks, and if you
are able to perform them all, you shall be husband and master of my
daughter." "What is the first to be?" "You shall fetch me my ring
which I have dropped into the red sea."

So the king's son went home to his servants and said, "The first task
is not easy.  A ring is to be got out of the red sea.  Come, find
some way of doing it." Then the man with the sharp sight said, "I
will see where it is lying," and looked down into the water and said,
"It is hanging there, on a pointed stone." The tall one carried them
thither, and said, "I would soon get it out, if I could only see it."
"Oh, is that all," cried the stout one, and lay down and put his
mouth to the water, on which all the waves fell into it just as if it
had been a whirlpool, and he drank up the whole sea till it was as
dry as a meadow.  The tall one stooped down a little, and brought out
the ring with his hand.

Then the king's son rejoiced when he had the ring, and took it to the
old queen.  She was astonished, and said, "Yes, it is the right ring.
You have safely performed the first task, but now comes the second.
Do you see the meadow in front of my palace?  Three hundred fat oxen
are feeding there, and these must you eat, skin, hair, bones, horns
and all, and down below in my cellar lie three hundred casks of wine,
and these you must drink up as well, and if one hair of the oxen, or
one little drop of the wine is left, your life will be forfeited to
me." "May I invite no guests to this repast?" inquired the prince,
"No dinner is good without some company." The old woman laughed
maliciously, and replied, "You may invite one for the sake of
companionship, but no more."

The king's son went to his servants and said to the stout one, "You
shall be my guest to-day, and shall eat your fill." Hereupon the
stout one puffed himself up and ate the three hundred oxen without
leaving one single hair, and then he asked if he was to have nothing
but his breakfast.  Then he drank the wine straight from the casks
without feeling any need of a glass, and drained them down to their
dregs.

When the meal was over, the prince went to the old woman, and told
her that the second task also was performed.  She wondered at this
and said, "No one has ever done so much before, but one task still
remains," and she thought to herself, "You shall not escape me, and
will not keep your head on your shoulders." "This night," said she,
"I will bring my daughter to you in your chamber, and you shall put
your arms round her, but when you are sitting there together, beware
of falling asleep.  When twelve o'clock is striking, I will come, and
if she is then no longer in your arms, you are lost."

The prince thought, "The task is easy, I will most certainly keep my
eyes open." Nevertheless he called his servants, told them what the
old woman had said, and remarked, "Who knows what treachery lurks
behind this?  Foresight is a good thing - keep watch, and take
care that the maiden does not go out of my room again." When night
fell, the old woman came with her daughter, and gave her into the
princes's arms, and then the tall one wound himself round the two in
a circle, and the stout one placed himself by the door, so that no
living creature could enter.  There the two sat, and the maiden spoke
never a word, but the moon shone through the window on her face, and
the prince could behold her wondrous beauty.  He did nothing but gaze
at her, and was filled with love and happiness, and his eyes never
felt weary.  This lasted until eleven o'clock, when the old woman
cast such a spell over all of them that they fell asleep, and at the
self-same moment the maiden was carried away.

Then they all slept soundly until a quarter to twelve, when the magic
lost its power, and all awoke again.  "Oh, misery and misfortune,"
cried the prince, "now I am lost." The faithful servants also began
to lament, but the listener said, "Be quiet, I want to listen." Then
he listened for an instant and said, "She is on a rock, three hundred
leagues from hence, bewailing her fate.  You alone, tall one, can
help her, if you will stand up, you will be there in a couple of
steps."

"Yes," answered the tall one, "but the one with the sharp eyes must
go with me, that we may destroy the rock." Then the tall one took the
one with bandaged eyes on his back, and in the twinkling of an eye
they were on the enchanted rock.  The tall one immediately took the
bandage from the other's eyes, and he did but look round, and the
rock shivered into a thousand pieces. Then the tall one took the
maiden in his arms, carried her back in a second, then fetched his
companion with the same rapidity, and before it struck twelve they
were all sitting as they had sat before, quite merrily and happily.
When twelve struck, the aged sorceress came stealing in with a
malicious face, as much as to say, "Now he is mine, for she believed
that her daughter was on the rock three hundred leagues off." But
when she saw her in the prince's arms, she was alarmed, and said,
"Here is one who knows more than I do." She dared not make any
opposition, and was forced to give him her daughter.  But she
whispered in her ear, "It is a disgrace to you to have to obey common
people, and that you are not allowed to choose a husband to your own
liking."

On this the proud heart of the maiden was filled with anger, and she
meditated revenge.  Next morning she caused three hundred great
bundles of wood to be got together, and said to the prince that
though the three tasks were performed, she would still not be his
wife until someone was ready to seat himself in the midst of the
wood, and bear the fire.  She thought that none of his servants would
let themselves be burnt for him, and that out of love for her, he
himself would place himself upon it, and then she would be free.  But
the servants said, "Every one of us has done something except the
frosty one, he must set to work, and they put him in the middle of
the pile, and set fire to it." Then the fire began to burn, and burnt
for three days until all the wood was consumed, and when the flames
had burnt out, the frosty one was standing amid the ashes, trembling
like an aspen leaf, and saying, "I never felt such a frost during the
whole course of my life, if it had lasted much longer, I should have
been benumbed."

As no other pretext was to be found, the beautiful maiden was now
forced to take the unknown youth as a husband.  But when they drove
away to church, the old woman said, "I cannot endure the disgrace,"
and sent her warriors after them with orders to cut down all who
opposed them, and bring back her daughter.  But the listener had
sharpened his ears, and heard the secret discourse of the old woman.
"What shall we do?" said he to the stout one.  But he knew what to
do, and spat out once or twice behind the carriage some of the
sea-water which he had drunk, and a great lake arose in which the
warriors were caught and drowned.

When the sorceress perceived that, she sent her mailed knights, but
the listener heard the rattling of their armor, and undid the bandage
from one eye of sharp-eyes, who looked for a while rather fixedly at
the enemy's troops, on which they all sprang to pieces like glass.
Then the youth and the maiden went on their way undisturbed, and when
the two had been blessed in church, the six servants took leave, and
said to their master, "Your wishes are now satisfied, you need us no
longer, we will go our way and seek our fortunes."

Half a league from the palace of the prince's father was a village
near which a swineherd tended his herd, and when they came thither
the prince said to his wife, "Do you know who I really am?  I am no
prince, but a herder of swine, and the man who is there with that
herd, is my father.  We two shall have to set to work also, and help
him." Then he alighted with her at the inn, and secretly told the
innkeepers to take away her royal apparel during the night.  So when
she awoke in the morning, she had nothing to put on, and the
innkeeper's wife gave her an old gown and a pair of worsted
stockings, and at the same time seemed to consider it a great
present, and said, "If it were not for the sake of your husband I
should have given you nothing at all." Then the princess believed
that he really was a swineherd, and tended the herd with him, and
thought to herself, "I have deserved this for my haughtiness and
pride."

This lasted for a week, and then she could endure it no longer, for
she had sores on her feet.  And now came a couple of people who asked
if she knew who her husband was.  "Yes," she answered, "he is a
swineherd, and has just gone out with cords and ropes to try to drive
a little bargain." But they said, "Just come with us, and we will
take you to him," and they took her up to the palace, and when she
entered the hall, there stood her husband in kingly raiment.  But she
did not recognize him until he took her in his arms, kissed her, and
said, "I suffered so much for you that you, too, had to suffer for
me." And then the wedding was celebrated, and he who has related
this, wishes that he, too, had been present at it.
A woman was walking about the fields with her daughter and her
step-daughter cutting fodder, when the Lord came towards them in the
form of a poor man, and asked, "Which is the way into the village?"
"If you want to know," said the mother, "seek it for yourself," and
the daughter added, "If you are afraid you will not find it, take a
guide with you." But the step-daughter said, "Poor man, I will take
you there, come with me."

Then God was angry with the mother and daughter, and turned His back
on them, and wished that they should become as black as night and as
ugly as sin.  To the poor step-daughter, however, God was gracious,
and went with her, and when they were near the village, He said a
blessing over her, and spoke, "Choose three things for yourself, and
I will grant them to you." Then said the maiden, "I should like to be
as beautiful and fair as the sun," and instantly she was white and
fair as day.  "Then I should like to have a purse of money which
would never grow empty." That the Lord gave her also, but He said,
"Do not forget what is best of all." Said she, "For my third wish, I
desire, after my death, to inhabit the eternal kingdom of heaven."
That also was granted unto her, and then the Lord left her.

When the step-mother came home with her daughter, and they saw that
they were both as black as coal and ugly, but that the step-daughter
was white and beautiful, wickedness increased still more in their
hearts, and they thought of nothing else but how they could do her an
injury.  The step-daughter, however, had a brother called Reginer,
whom she loved much, and she told him all that had happened.  And
Reginer said to her, "Dear sister, I will paint your portrait, that I
may continually see you before my eyes, for my love for you is so
great that I should like always to look at you." Then she answered,
"But, I pray you, let no one see the picture."

So he painted his sister and hung up the picture in his room, he,
however, dwelt in the king's palace, for he was his coachman. Every
day he went and stood before the picture, and thanked God for the
happiness of having such a dear sister.  Now it happened that the
king whom he served, had just lost his wife, who had been so
beautiful that no one could be found to compare with her, and on this
account the king was in deep grief. The attendants about the court,
however, noticed that the coachman stood daily before this beautiful
picture, and they were jealous of him, so they informed the king.
Then the latter ordered the picture to be brought to him, and when he
saw that it was like his lost wife in every respect, except that it
was still more beautiful, he fell mortally in love with it He caused
the coachman to be brought before him, and asked whom the portrait
represented.  The coachman said it was his sister, so the king
resolved to take no one but her as his wife, and gave him a carriage
and horses and splendid garments of cloth of gold, and sent him forth
to fetch his chosen bride.

When Reginer came on this errand, his sister was glad, but the black
maiden was jealous of her good fortune, and grew angry above all
measure, and said to her mother, "Of what use are all your arts to us
now when you cannot procure such a piece of luck for me." "Be quiet,"
said the old woman, "I will soon divert it to you," - and by her arts
of witchcraft, she so troubled the eyes of the coachman that he was
half-blind, and she stopped the ears of the white maiden so that she
was half-deaf.  Then they got into the carriage, first the bride in
her noble royal apparel, then the step-mother with her daughter, and
Reginer sat on the box to drive.  When they had been on the way for
some time the coachman cried,
	 "Cover thee well, my sister dear,
	 That the rain may not wet thee,
	 That the wind may not load thee with dust,
	 That thou may'st be fair and beautiful
	 When thou appearest before the king."

The bride asked, "What is my dear brother saying?" "Ah," said the old
woman, "he says that you ought to take off your golden dress and give
it to your sister." Then she took it off, and put it on the black
maiden, who gave her in exchange for it a shabby grey gown.  They
drove onwards, and a short time afterwards, the brother again cried,
	 "Cover thee well, my sister dear,
	 That the rain may not wet thee,
	 That the wind may not load thee with dust,
	 That thou may'st be fair and beautiful
	 When thou appearest before the king."

The bride asked, "What is my dear brother saying?" "Ah," said the old
woman, "he says that you ought to take off your golden hood and give
it to your sister." So she took off the hood and put it on her
sister, and sat with her own head uncovered.  And they drove on
farther.  After a while, the brother once more cried,
	 "Cover thee well, my sister dear,
	 That the rain may not wet thee,
	 That the wind may not load thee with dust,
	 That thou may'st be fair and beautiful
	 When thou appearest before the king."

The bride asked, "What is my dear brother saying?" "Ah," said the old
woman, "he says you must look out of the carriage." They happened to
be on a bridge, which crossed deep water. When the bride stood up and
leant forward out of the carriage, they both pushed her out, and she
fell into the middle of the water.  At the same moment that she sank,
a snow-white duck arose out of the mirror-smooth water, and swam down
the river.

The brother had observed nothing of it, and drove the carriage on
until they reached the court.  Then he took the black maiden to the
king as his sister, and thought she really was so, because his eyes
were dim, and he saw the golden garments glittering.  When the king
saw the boundless ugliness of his intended bride, he was very angry,
and ordered the coachman to be thrown into a pit which was full of
adders and nests of snakes.  The old witch, however, knew so well how
to flatter the king and deceive his eyes by her arts, that he kept
her and her daughter until she appeared quite endurable to him, and
he really married her.

One evening when the black bride was sitting on the king's knee, a
white duck came swimming up the gutter to the kitchen, and said to
the kitchen-boy, "Boy, light a fire, that I may warm my feathers."
The kitchen-boy did it, and lighted a fire on the hearth.  Then came
the duck and sat down by it, and shook herself and smoothed her
feathers to rights with her bill. While she was thus sitting and
enjoying herself, she asked, "What is my brother Reginer doing?" The
scullery-boy replied, "He is imprisoned in the pit with adders and
with snakes." Then she asked, "What is the black witch doing in the
house?" The boy answered, "She is loved by the king and happy." "May
God have mercy on him," said the duck, and swam forth by the gutter.

The next night she came again and put the same questions, and the
third night also.  Then the kitchen-boy could bear it no longer, and
went to the king and revealed all to him.  The king, however, wanted
to see it for himself, and next evening went thither, and when the
duck thrust her head in through the gutter, he took his sword and cut
through her neck, and suddenly she changed into a most beautiful
maiden, exactly like the picture, which her brother had made of her.
The king was full of joy, and as she stood there quite wet, he caused
splendid apparel to be brought and had her clothed in it.

Then she told how she had been betrayed by cunning and falsehood, and
at last thrown down into the water, and her first request was that
her brother should be brought forth from the pit of snakes, and when
the king had fulfilled this request, he went into the chamber where
the old witch was, and asked if she knew the punishment for one who
does this and that, and related what had happened.  Then was she so
blinded that she was aware of nothing and said, "She deserves to be
stripped naked, and put into a barrel with nails, and that a horse
should be harnessed to the barrel, and the horse sent all over the
world." All of which was done to her, and to her black daughter.  But
the king married the white and beautiful bride, and rewarded her
faithful brother, and made him a rich and distinguished man.
***There was once upon a time a king who had a great forest near
his palace, full of all kinds of wild animals.  One day he sent
out a huntsman to shoot him a roe, but he did not come back.
Perhaps some accident has befallen him, said the king, and the
next day he sent out two more huntsmen who were to search for him,
but they too stayed away.  Then on the third day, he sent for all
his huntsmen, and said, scour the whole forest through, and do
not give up until you have found all three.  But of these also,
none came home again, and of the pack of hounds which they had
taken with them, none were seen again.  From that time forth,
no one would any longer venture into the forest, and it lay
there in deep stillness and solitude, and nothing was seen of it,
but sometimes an eagle or a hawk flying over it.  This lasted
for many years, when an unknown huntsman announced himself
to the king as seeking a situation, and offered to go into the
dangerous forest.  The king, however, would not give his consent,
and said, it is not safe in there, I fear it would fare with you
no better than with the others, and you would never come out
again.  The huntsman replied, lord, I will venture it at my own
risk, of fear I know nothing.
The huntsman therefore betook himself with his dog to the forest.
It was not long before the dog fell in with some game on the way,
and wanted to pursue it, but hardly had the dog run two steps
when it stood before a deep pool, could go no farther, and a
naked
arm stretched itself out of the water, seized it, and drew it
under.  When the huntsman saw that, he went back and fetched
three men to come with buckets and bale out the water.  When
they could see to the bottom there lay a wild man whose body
was brown like rusty iron, and whose hair hung over his face
down to his knees.  They bound him with cords, and led
him away to the castle.  There was great astonishment over the
wild man, the king, however, had him put in an iron cage in his
court-yard, and forbade the door to be opened on pain of death,
and the queen herself was to take the key into her keeping.
And from this time forth every one could again go into the
forest with safety.
The king had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the
court-yard, and while he was playing, his golden ball fell into
the cage.  The boy ran thither and said, give me my ball out.
Not till you have opened the door for me, answered the man.  No,
said the boy, I will not do that, the king has forbidden it,
and ran away.  The next day he again went and asked for his
ball.  The wild man said, open my
door, but the boy would not.  On the third day the king had
ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, I
cannot open the door even if I wished, for I have not the key.
Then the wild man said, it lies under your mother's pillow,
you can get it there.  The boy, who wanted to have his ball back,
cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key.  The door
opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his fingers.  When
it was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball,
and hurried away.  The boy had become afraid, he called and
cried after him, oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall be
beaten.  The wild man turned back, took him up, set him on his
shoulder, and went with hasty steps into the forest.  When the
king came home, he observed the empty cage, and asked the queen
how that had happened.  She knew nothing about it, and sought the
key, but it was gone.  She called the boy, but no one answered.
The king sent out people to seek for him in the fields, but
they did not find him.  Then he could easily guess what had
happened, and much grief reigned in the royal court.
When the wild man had once more reached the dark forest, he
took the boy down from his shoulder, and said to him, you
will never see your father and mother again, but I will keep
you with me, for you have set me free, and I have compassion
on you.  If you do all I bid you, you shall fare well.  Of
treasure and gold have I enough, and more than anyone in the
world.  He made a bed of moss for the boy on which he slept,
and the next morning the man took him to a well, and said,
behold, the gold well is as bright and clear as crystal, you
shall sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into
it, or it will be polluted.  I will come every evening to see if
you have obeyed my order.  The boy placed himself by the brink of
the well, and often saw a golden fish or a golden snake show
itself therein, and took care that nothing fell in.  As he was
thus sitting, his finger hurt him so violently that he
involuntarily put it in the water.  He drew it quickly out
again, but saw that it was quite gilded, and whatsoever pains
he took to wash the gold off again, all was to no purpose.  In
the evening iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said,
what has happened to the well.  Nothing,
nothing, he answered, and held his finger behind his back, that
the man might not see it.  But he said, you have dipped your
finger into the water, this time it may pass, but take care
you do not again let anything go in.  By daybreak the boy was
already sitting by the well and watching it.  His finger hurt
him again and he passed it over his head, and then unhappily
a hair fell down into the well.  He took it quickly out, but
it was already quite gilded.  Iron Hans came, and already knew
what had happened.  You have let a hair fall into the well,
said he.  I will allow you to watch by it once more, but if this
happens for the third time then the well is polluted, and you
can no longer remain with me.
On the third day, the boy sat by the well, and did not stir his
finger, however much it hurt him.  But the time was long to
him, and he looked at the reflection of his face on the surface
of the water.  And as he still bent down more and more while he
was doing so, and trying to look straight into the eyes, his
long hair fell down from his shoulders into the water.  He
raised himself up quickly, but the whole of the hair of his head
was already golden and shone like the sun.  You can imagine how
terrified the poor boy was.  He took his pocket-handkerchief
and tied it round his head, in order that the man might not
see it.  When he came he already knew everything, and said,
take the handkerchief off.  Then the golden hair streamed forth,
and let the boy excuse himself as he might, it was of no use.
You have not stood the trial, and can stay here no longer.  Go
forth into the world, there you will learn what poverty is.  But
as you have not a bad heart, and as I mean well by you, there is
one thing I will grant you.  If you fall into any difficulty,
come to the forest and cry, iron Hans, and then I will come and
help you.  My power is great, greater than you think, and I have
gold and silver in abundance.
Then the king's son left the forest, and walked by beaten and
unbeaten paths ever onwards until at length he reached a great
city.  There he looked for work, but could find none, and he
had learnt nothing by which he could help himself.  At length
he went to the palace, and asked if they would take him in.
The people about
court did not at all know what use they could make of him, but
they liked him, and told him to stay.  At length the cook took
him into his service, and said he might carry wood and water, and
rake the cinders together.  Once when it so happened that
no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the
food to the royal table, but as he did not like to let his
golden hair be seen, he kept his little cap on.  Such a thing
as that had never yet come under the king's notice, and he said,
when you come to the royal table you must take your hat off.  He
answered, ah, lord, I cannot.  I have a bad sore place on my
head.  Then the king had the cook called before him and scolded
him, and asked how he could take such a boy as that into his
service, and that he was to send him away at once.  The cook,
however, had pity on him, and exchanged him for the gardener's
boy.
And now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig,
and bear the wind and bad weather.  Once in summer when he was
working alone in the garden, the day was so warm he took his
little cap off that the air might cool him.  As the sun shone
on his hair it glittered and flashed so that the rays fell into
the bed-room of the king's daughter, and up she sprang to
see what that could be.  Then she saw the boy, and cried to
him, boy, bring me a wreath of flowers.  He put his cap on
with all haste, and gathered wild field-flowers and bound them
together.  When he was ascending the stairs with them, the
gardener met him, and said, how can you take the king's daughter a
garland of such common flowers.  Go quickly, and get another,
and seek out the prettiest and rarest.  Oh, no, replied the
boy, the wild ones have more scent, and will please her better.
When he got into the room, the king's daughter said, take
your cap off, it is not seemly to keep it on in my presence.
He again said, I may not, I have a sore head.  She, however,
caught at his cap and pulled it off, and then his golden hair
rolled down on his shoulders, and it was splendid to behold.
He wanted to run out, but she held him by the arm, and gave him
a handful of ducats.  With these he departed, but he cared
nothing for the gold pieces.  He took them to the gardener, and
said, I present them to
your children, they can play with them.  The following day the
king's daughter again called to him that he was to bring her a
wreath of field-flowers, and when he went in with it, she
instantly snatched at his cap, and wanted to take it away from
him, but he held it fast with both hands.  She again gave him a
handful of ducats, but he would not keep them, and gave them
to the gardener for playthings for his children.  On the third
day things went just the same.  She could not get his cap away
from him, and he would not have her money.
Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war.  The king
gathered together his people, and did not know whether or not
he could offer any opposition to the enemy, who was superior
in strength and had a mighty army.  Then said the gardener's boy,
I am grown up, and will go to the wars also, only give me a
I am grown up, and will go the the wars also, only give me a
horse.  The others laughed, and said, seek one for yourself when
we are gone, we will leave one behind us in the stable for you.
When they had gone forth, he went into the stable, and led the
horse out.  It was lame of one foot, and limped hobblety
jig, hobblety jig, nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away
to the dark forest.  When he came to the outskirts, he called
'iron Hans, three times so loudly that it echoed through the
trees.  Thereupon the wild man appeared immediately, and said,
what do you desire.  I want a strong steed, for I am going to the
wars.  That you shall have, and still more than you ask for.
Then the wild man went back into the forest, and it was not
long before a stable-boy came out of it, who led a horse that
snorted with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained,
and behind them followed a great troop of warriors entirely
equipped in iron, and their swords flashed in the sun.  The
youth made over his three-legged horse to the stable-boy,
mounted the other, and rode at the head of the soldiers.  When
he got near the battle-field a great part of the king's men had
already fallen, and little was wanting to make the rest give way.
Then the youth galloped thither with his iron soldiers, broke
like a hurricane over the enemy, and beat down all who opposed
him.  They began to flee, but the youth pursued, and never
stopped, until there was not a single man left.  Instead
of returning to the king, however, he conducted his troop
by byways back to the forest, and called forth iron Hans.
What do you desire, asked the wild man.  Take back your horse and
your troops, and give me my three-legged horse again.  All
that he asked was done, and soon he was riding on his three-legged
horse.  When the king returned to his palace, his daughter went
to meet him, and wished him joy of his victory.  I am not the
one who carried away the victory, said he, but a strange knight
who came to my assistance with his soldiers.  The daughter
wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the king did
not know, and said, he followed the enemy, and I did not see him
again.  She inquired of the gardener where his boy was, but he
smiled, and said, he has just come home on his three-legged
horse, and the others have been mocking him, and crying, here
comes our hobblety jig back again.  They asked, too, under
what hedge have you been lying sleeping all the time.  So he
said, I did the best of all, and it would have gone badly without
me.  And then he was still more ridiculed.
The king said to his daughter, I will proclaim a great feast
that shall last for three days, and you shall throw a golden
apple.  Perhaps the unknown man will show himself.  When the
feast was announced, the youth went out to the forest, and called
iron Hans.  What do you desire, asked he.  That I may catch the
king's daughter's golden apple.  It is as safe as if you had
it already, said iron Hans.  You shall likewise have a suit of
red armor for the occasion, and ride on a spirited chestnut-horse.
When the day came, the youth galloped to the spot, took his
place amongst the knights, and was recognized by no one.  The
king's daughter came forward, and threw a golden apple to the
knights, but none of them caught it but he, only as soon as he
had it he galloped away.
On the second day iron Hans equipped him as a white knight, and
gave him a white horse.  Again he was the only one who caught
the apple, and he did not linger an instant, but galloped
off with it.  The king grew angry, and said, that is not allowed.
He must appear before me and tell his name.  He gave the order
that if the knight who caught the apple, should go away again
they should
pursue him, and if he would not come back willingly, they were
to cut him down and stab him.
On the third day, he received from iron Hans a suit of black armor
and a black horse, and again he caught the apple.  But when he was
riding off with it, the king's attendants pursued him, and
one of them got so near him that he wounded the youth's leg
with the point of his sword.  The youth nevertheless escaped
from them, but his horse leapt so violently that the helmet fell
from the youth's head, and they could see that he had golden
hair.  They rode back and announced this to the king.
The following day the king's daughter asked the gardener about
his boy.  He is at work in the garden.  The queer creature has
been at the festival too, and only came home yesterday evening.
He has likewise shown my children three golden apples which he
has won.
The king had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again
had his little cap on his head.  But the king's daughter went up
to him and took it off, and then his golden hair fell down
over his shoulders, and he was so handsome that all were amazed.
Are you the knight who came every day to the festival, always in
different colors, and who caught the three golden apples, asked
the king.  Yes, answered he, and here the apples are, and he
took them out of his pocket, and returned them to the king.  If
you desire further proof, you may see the wound which your people
gave me when they followed me.  But I am likewise the knight
who helped you to your victory over your enemies.  If you can
perform such deeds as that, you are no gardener's boy, tell me,
who is your father.  My father is a mighty king, and gold have
I in plenty as great as I require.  I well see, said the king,
that I owe thanks to you, can I do anything to please you.  Yes,
answered he, that indeed you can.  Give me your daughter to wife.
The maiden laughed, and said, he does not stand much on ceremony,
but I have already seen by his golden hair that he was no
gardener's boy, and then she went and kissed him.  His father and
mother came to the wedding, and were in great delight, for they
had given up all
hope of ever seeing their dear son again.  And as they were sitting
at the marriage-feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors
opened, and a stately king came in with a great retinue.  He went
up to the youth, embraced him and said, I am iron Hans, and was by
enchantment a wild man, but you have set me free.  All the
treasures which I possess, shall be your property.
East india was besieged by an enemy who would not retire until
he had received six hundred dollars.  Then the townsfolk caused
it to be proclaimed by beat of drum that whosoever was able to
procure the money should be burgomaster.  Now there was a poor
fisherman who fished on the sea with his son, and the enemy came
and took the son prisoner, and gave the father six hundred
dollars for him.  So the father went and gave them to the great
men of the town, and the enemy departed, and the fisherman became
burgomaster.  Then it was proclaimed that whosoever did not say
'mr. Burgomaster, should be put to death on the gallows.
The son got away again from the enemy, and came to a great
forest on a high mountain.  The mountain opened, and he went
into a great enchanted castle, wherein chairs, tables, and
benches were all hung with black.  Then came three young
princesses who were dressed entirely in black, but had a little
white on their faces.  They told him he was not to be afraid,
they would not hurt him, and that he could rescue them.  He
said he would gladly do that, if he did but know how.  At
this, they told him he must for a whole year not speak to them
and also not look at them, and what he wanted to have he was
just to ask for, and if they dared give him an answer they would
do so.  When he had been there for a long while he said
he should like to go to his father, and they told him he might
go.  He was to take with him this purse with money, put on this
coat, and in a week he must be back there again.
Then he was lifted up, and was instantly in east india.  He could
no longer find his father in the fisherman's hut, and asked the
people where the poor fisherman could be, and they told him he
must not say that, or he would come to the gallows.  Then he
went to his father and said, fisherman, how have you got here.
Then the father said, you must not say that, if the great men
of the town knew of that, you would come to the gallows.  He,
however, would not give in, and was brought to the gallows.
When he was there, he said, o, my masters, just give me leave to
go to the old fisherman's hut.  Then he put on his old smock, and
came back to the great men, and said, do you not now see.  Am I
not the son of the poor fisherman.  Did I not earn bread for my
father and mother in this dress.  Hereupon his father knew him
again, and begged his pardon, and took him home with him, and then
related all that had happened to him, and how he had got into a
forest on a high mountain, and the mountain had opened and he
had gone into an enchanted castle, where all was black, and three
young princesses had come to him who were black except a little
white on their faces.  And they had told him not to fear, and
that he could rescue them.  Then his mother said that might
very likely not be a good thing to do, and that he ought to take
a blessed candle with him, and drop some boiling wax on their
faces.
He went back again, and he was in great fear, and he dropped
the wax on their faces as they were sleeping, and they all
turned half-white.  Then all the three princesses sprang up, and
said, you accursed dog, our blood shall cry for vengeance on you.
Now there is no man born in the world, nor will any ever be born
who can set us free.  We have still three brothers who are bound
by seven chains - they shall tear you to pieces.  Then there was
a loud shrieking all over the castle, and he sprang out of the
window, and broke his leg, and the castle sank into the earth
again, the mountain closed again, and no one knew where the castle
had stood.
Between werrel and soist there lived a man whose name was knoist,
and he had three sons.  One was blind, the other lame, and the
third stark-naked.  Once on a time they went into a field,
and there they saw a hare.  The blind one shot it, the lame one
caught it, the naked one put it in his pocket.  Then they came to
a mighty big lake, on which there were three boats, one sailed,
one sank, the third had no bottom to it.  They all three got
into the one with no bottom to it.  Then they came to a mighty
big forest in which there was a mighty big tree, in the tree
was a mighty big chapel - in the chapel was a sexton made of
beech-wood and a box-wood parson, who dealt out holy water with
cudgels.
               How truly happy is that one
               who can from holy water run.
A girl from brakel once went to St. Anne's chapel at the foot
of the hinnenberg, and as she wanted to have a husband, and
thought there was no one else in the chapel, she sang,
               oh, holy saint anne.
               Help me soon to a man.
               Thou know'st him right well,
               by suttmer gate does he dwell,
               his hair it is yellow,
               thou know'st him right well.
The clerk, however, was standing behind the altar and heard
that, so he cried in a very gruff voice, you shall not have him.
You shall not have him.
The maiden thought that the child mary who stood by her mother
anne had called out that to her, and was angry, and cried,
fiddle de dee, conceited thing, hold your tongue, and let your
mother speak.
Whither do you go.  To walpe.  I to walpe, you to walpe, so,
so, together we'll go.
Have you a man.  What is his name.  Cham.  My man cham, your
man cham.  I to walpe, you to walpe, so, so, together we'll go.
Have you a child, how is he styled.  Wild.  My child wild, your
child wild, my man cham, your man cham.  I to walpe, you to
walpe, so, so, together we'll go.
Have you a cradle.  How do you call your cradle.  Hippodadle.  My
cradle hippodadle, your cradle hippodadle, my child wild, your
child wild, my man cham, your man cham.  I to walpe, you to
walpe, so, so, together we'll go.
Have you also a drudge.  What name has your drudge.
From-work-do-not-budge.  My drudge from-work-do-not-budge, your
drudge from-work-do-not-budge, my cradle hippodadle, your cradle
hippodadle, my child wild, your child wild, my man cham, your
man cham.  I to walpe, you to walpe, so, so, together we'll go.
There were once a little brother and a little sister, who loved
each other with all their hearts.  Their own mother, however, was
dead, and they had a step-mother who was not kind to them, and
secretly did everything she could to hurt them.  It so happened
that the two were playing with other children in a meadow before
the house, and there was a pond in the meadow which came up
to one side of the house.  The children ran about it, and caught
each other, and played at counting out.
          Eneke beneke, let me live,
          and I to you my bird will give.
          The little bird, it straw shall seek,
          the straw I'll give to the cow to eat.
          The pretty cow shall give me milk,
          the milk I'll to the baker take.
          The baker he shall bake a cake,
          the cake I'll give unto the cat.
          The cat shall catch some mice for that,
          the mice I'll hang up in the smoke,
          and then you'll see the snow.
They stood in a circle while they played this, and the one to
whom the word snow fell, had to run away and all the others ran
after him and caught him.  As they were running about so merrily
the step-mother watched them from the window, and grew angry.
And as she understood arts of witchcraft she bewitched them both,
and changed the little brother into a fish, and the little sister
into a lamb.  Then the fish swam here and there about the pond and
was very sad, and the lambkin walked up and down the meadow,
and was miserable, and could not eat or touch one blade of grass.
Thus
passed a long time, and then strangers came as visitors to the
castle.  The false step-mother thought, this is a good opportunity,
and called the cook and said to him, go and fetch the lamb from
the meadow and kill it, we have nothing else for the visitors.
Then the cook went away and got the lamb, and took it into the
kitchen and tied its feet, and all this it bore patiently.  When
he had drawn out his knife and was whetting it on the door-step
to kill the lamb, he noticed a little fish swimming backwards
and forwards in the water, in front of the gutter-stone and
looking up at him.  This, however, was the brother, for when the
fish saw the cook take the lamb away, it followed them and swam
along the pond to the house, then the lamb cried down to it,
          ah, brother, in the pond so deep,
          how sad is my poor heart.
          The cook he whets his knife
          to take away my life.
The little fish answered,
          ah, little sister, up on high
          how sad is my poor heart
          while in this pond I lie.
When the cook heard that the lambkin could speak and said such
sad words to the fish down below, he was terrified and thought
this could be no common lamb, but must be bewitched by the wicked
woman in the house.  Then said he, be easy, I will not kill you,
and took another sheep and made it ready for the guests, and
conveyed the lambkin to a good peasant woman, to whom he related
all that he had seen and heard.
The peasant, however, was the very woman who had been foster-mother
to the little sister, and she suspected at once who the
lamb was, and went with it to a wise woman.  Then the wise woman
pronounced a blessing over the lambkin and the little fish, by
means of which they regained their human forms, and after this
she took them both into a little hut in a great forest, where
they lived alone, but were contented and happy.
There were once two brothers, the one rich, the other poor.
The rich one, however, gave nothing to the poor one, and he
gained a scanty living by trading in corn, and often did so
badly that he had no bread for his wife and children.  Once
when he was wheeling a barrow through the forest he saw, on
one side of him, a great, bare, naked-looking mountain, and as he
had never seen it before, he stood still and stared at it with
amazement.
While he was thus standing he saw twelve great, wild men coming
towards him, and as he believed they were robbers he pushed his
barrow into the thicket, climbed up a tree, and waited to see
what would happen.  The twelve men, however, went to the
mountain and cried, semsi mountain, semsi mountain, open up, and
immediately the barren mountain opened down the middle, and
the twelve went into it, and as soon as they were within, it
shut.  After a short time, it opened again, and the men came
forth carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders, and when they
were all once more in the daylight they said, semsi mountain,
semsi mountain, shut yourself, then the mountain closed
together, and there was no longer any entrance to be seen to it,
and the twelve went away.
When they were quite out of sight the poor man got down from
the tree, and was curious to know what was secretly hidden in
the mountain.  So he went up to it and said, semsi mountain,
semsi mountain, open up, and the mountain opened up to him also.
Then he went inside, and the whole mountain was a cavern full of
silver and gold, and behind lay great piles of pearls and
sparkling jewels, heaped up like corn.  The poor man hardly knew
what to do, and whether he might take any of these treasures for
himself or not.  At last he filled his pockets with gold, but
he left the pearls and precious stones where they were.  When he
came out again he also said, semsi mountain, semsi mountain,
shut yourself, and the mountain closed itself, and he went home
with his barrow.
And now he had no more cause for anxiety, but could buy bread
for his wife and children with his gold, and wine into the bargain.
He lived joyously and honorably, gave help to the poor, and did
good to every one.  When the money came to an end, however, he
went to his brother, borrowed a measure that held a bushel,
and brought himself some more, but did not touch any of the
most valuable things.  When for the third time he wanted to
fetch something, he again borrowed the measure of his brother.
But the rich man had long been envious of his brother's
possessions, and of the handsome household which he kept up,
and could not understand from whence the riches came, and what his
brother wanted with the measure.  Then he thought of a cunning
trick, and covered the bottom of the measure with pitch, and when
he got the measure back a piece of gold was sticking to it.  He
at once went to his brother and asked him, what have you been
measuring in the bushel measure.  Corn and barley, said the other.
Then he showed him the piece of gold and threatened that if he did
not tell
the truth he would accuse him before a court of justice.  The poor
man then told him everything, just as it had happened.  So the
rich man ordered his carriage to be made ready, and drove away,
resolved to use the opportunity better than his brother had
done, and to bring back with him quite different treasures.
When he came to the mountain he cried, semsi mountain, semsi
mountain, open up.  The mountain opened, and he went inside it.
There lay the treasures all before him, and for a long time he
did not know which to grab first.  At length he loaded himself
with as many precious stones as he could carry.  He wished to
carry his burden outside, but as his heart and soul were entirely
full of the treasures, he had forgotten the name of the mountain,
and cried, simeli mountain, simeli mountain, open up.  That,
however, was not the right name, and the mountain never stirred,
but remained shut.  Then he was alarmed, and the longer he
thought about it the more his thoughts confused themselves, and
all his treasures were of no help to him.  In the evening the
mountain opened, and the twelve robbers came in, and when they
saw him they laughed, and cried out, bird, have we caught you
at last.  Did you think we had never noticed that you had
been in here twice.  We could not catch you then, this third
time you shall not get out again.  Then he cried, it was not I,
it was my brother, but let him beg for his life and say what he
would, they cut off his head.
There was once a poor woman who had a son, who much wished to
travel, but his mother said, how can you travel.  We have no money
at all for you to take away with you.  Then said the son, I will
manage very well for myself.  I will always say, not much, not
much, not much.
So he walked for a long time and always said, not much, not
much, not much.  Then he passed by a company of fishermen and said,
God speed you.  Not much, not much, not much.  What do you say,
churl, not much.  And when the net was drawn out they had not
caught much fish.  So one of them fell on the youth with a stick and
said, have you never seen me threshing.  What ought I to say,
then, asked the youth.  You must say - get it full, get it full.
After this he again walked a long time, and said, get it full, get
it full, until he came to the gallows, where they had got a poor
sinner whom they were about to hang.  Then said he, good morning,
get it full, get it full.  What do you say, knave, get it full.  Do
you want to make out that there are still more wicked people
in the world.  Is not this enough.  And he again got some blows
on his back.  What am I to say, then, said he.  You must say, may
God have pity on the poor soul.
Again the youth walked on for along while and said, may God have
pity on the poor soul.  Then he came to a pit by which stood a
knacker who was cutting up a horse.  The youth said, good
morning.  God have pity on the poor soul.  What do you say,
you ill-tempered knave, and the knacker gave him such a box on
the ear, that he could not see out of his eyes.  What am I to say,
then.  You must say, let the carrion lie in the pit.
So he walked on, and always said, let the carrion lie in the
pit, let the carrion lie in the pit.  And he came to a cart full
of people, so he said, good morning, let the carrion lie in the
pit.  Then the cart fell into a pit, and the driver took his
whip and cracked it upon the youth, till he was forced to crawl
back to his mother, and as long as he lived he never went out a
traveling again.
Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen, who were rich,
and had everything they wanted, but no children.  The queen
lamented over this day and night, and said, I am like a field
on which nothing grows.  At last God gave her her wish, but when
the child came into the world, it did not look like a human child,
but was a little donkey.  When the mother saw that, her lamentations
and outcries began in real earnest.  She said she would
far rather have had no child at all than have a donkey, and that
they were to throw it into the water that the fishes might devour
it.  But the king said, no, since God has sent him he shall be my
son and heir, and after my death sit on the royal throne, and
wear the kingly crown.  The donkey, therefore, was brought up
and grew bigger, and his ears grew up high and straight.  And he
was of a merry disposition, jumped about, played and took especial
pleasure in music, so that he went to a celebrated musician and
said, teach me your art, that I may play the lute as well as you do.
Ah, dear little master, answered the musician, that would come
very hard to you, your fingers are not quite suited to it, and
are far too big.  I am afraid the strings would not last.  But
no excuses were of any use.  The donkey was determined to play the
lute.  And since he was persevering and industrious, he at last
learnt to do it as well as the master himself.  The young lordling
once went out walking full of thought and came to a well.  He
looked into it and in the mirror-clear water saw his donkey's
form.  He was so distressed about it, that he went out into the
wide world and only took with him one faithful companion.  They
traveled up and down, and at last they came into a kingdom where
and old king reigned who had
a single but wonderfully beautiful daughter.  The donkey said,
here we will stay, knocked at the gate, and cried, a guest is
without.  Open, that he may enter.  When the gate was not opened,
he sat down, took his lute and played it in the most delightful
manner with his two fore-feet.  Then the door-keeper opened his
eyes, and gaped, and ran to the king and said, outside by the
gate sits a young donkey which plays the lute as well as an
experienced master.  Then let the musician come to me, said the
king.  But when a donkey came in, everyone began to laugh at the
lute-player.  And when the donkey was asked to sit down and eat
with the servants, he was unwilling, and said, I am no common
stable-ass, I
am a noble one.  Then they said, if that is what you are, seat
yourself with the soldiers.  No, said he, I will sit by the king.
The king smiled, and said good-humoredly, yes, it shall be as
you will, little ass, come here to me.  Then he asked, little ass,
how does my daughter please you.  The donkey turned his head
towards her, looked at her, nodded and said, I like her above
measure, I have never yet seen anyone so beautiful as she is.
Well, then, you shall sit next her too, said the king.  That is
exactly what I wish, said the donkey, and he placed himself by her
side, ate and drank, and knew how to behave himself daintily
and cleanly.  When the noble beast had stayed a long time at the
king's court, he thought, what good does all this do me, I
shall still have to go home again, let his head hang sadly,
and went to the king and asked for his dismissal.  But the king
had grown fond of him, and said, little ass, what ails you.  You
look as sour as a jug of vinegar, I will give you what you want.
Do you want gold.  No, said the donkey, and shook his head.
Do you want jewels and rich dress.  No.  Do you wish for half my
kingdom.  Indeed, no.  Then said the king, if I did but know what
would make you content.  Will you have my pretty daughter to wife.
Ah, yes, said the ass, I should indeed like her, and all at once
he became quite merry and full of happiness, for that was exactly
what he was wishing for.  So a great and splendid wedding was
held.  In the evening, when the bride and bridegroom were led
into their bed-room, the king wanted to know if the ass would
behave well, and ordered a servant to hide himself there.  When
they were both within, the bridegroom bolted the door, looked
around, and as he believed that they were quite alone, he suddenly
threw off his ass's skin, and stood there in the form of a handsome
royal youth.  Now, said he, you see who I am, and see also that
I am not unworthy of you.  Then the bride was glad, and kissed
him, and loved him dearly.  When morning came, he jumped up, put
his animal's skin on again, and no one could have guessed
what kind of a form was hidden beneath it.  Soon came the old king.
Ah, cried he, so the little ass is already up.  But surely you are
sad, said he to his daughter, that you have not got a proper
man for your husband.  Oh, no, dear father, I love him as well as
if he were the handsomest in the world, and I will keep him as long
as I live.  The king was surprised, but the servant who had
concealed himself came and revealed everything to him.  The king
said, that cannot be true.  Then watch yourself the next night,
and you will see it with your own eyes, and hark you, lord king,
if you were to take his skin away and throw it in the fire, he
would be forced to show himself in his true shape.  Your advice is
good, said the king, and at night when they were asleep, he stole
in, and when he got to the bed he saw by the light of the moon
a noble-looking youth lying there, and the skin lay stretched on
the ground.  So he took it away, and had a great fire lighted
outside, and threw the skin into it, and remained by it himself
until it was all burnt to ashes.  But since he was anxious to know
how the robbed man would behave himself, he stayed awake the whole
night and watched.  When the youth had slept his fill, he got
up by the first light of morning, and wanted to put on the
ass's skin, but it was not to be found.  At this he was alarmed,
and, full of grief and anxiety, said, now I shall have to contrive
to escape.  But when he went out, there stood the king, who said,
my son, whither away in such haste.  What have you in mind.  Stay
here, you are such a handsome man, you shall not go away from me.
I will now give you half my kingdom, and after my death you shall
have the whole of it.  Then I hope that what begins so well may
end well, and I will stay with you, said the youth.  And the old
man gave him half the kingdom, and in a year's time, when he died,
the youth had the whole, and after the death of his father he had
another kingdom as well, and lived in all magnificence.
A man and his wife were once sitting by the door of their house,
and they had a roasted chicken set before them, and were about
to eat it together.  Then the man saw that his aged father was
coming, and hastily took the chicken and hid it, for he would
not permit him to have any of it.  The old man came, took a drink,
and went away.  Now the son wanted to put the roasted chicken on
the table again, but when he took it up, it had become a great
toad, which jumped into his face and sat there and never went
away again, and if any one wanted to take it off, it looked
venomously at him as if it would jump in his face, so that no
one would venture to touch it.  And the ungrateful son was forced
to feed the toad every day, or else it fed itself on his face,
and thus he went about the world knowing no rest.
There were once two brothers who both served as soldiers, one of
them was rich, and the other poor.  Then the poor one, to escape
from his poverty, doffed his soldier's coat, and turned farmer.
He dug and hoed his bit of land, and sowed it with turnip-seed.
The seed came up, and one turnip grew there which became large and
strong, and visibly grew bigger and bigger, and seemed as if it
would never stop growing, so that it might have been called the
princess of turnips, for never was such an one seen before, and
never will such an one be seen again.
At length it was so enormous that by itself it filled a whole
cart, and two oxen were required to draw it, and the farmer had
not the least idea what he was to do with the turnip, or whether
it would be a fortune to him or a misfortune.  At last he thought,
if you sell it, what will you get for it that is of any importance,
and if you eat it yourself, why, the small turnips would do you
just as much good.  It would be better to take it to the king, and
make him a present of it.
So he placed it on a cart, harnessed two oxen, took it to the
palace, and presented it to the king.  What strange thing is
this, said the king.  Many wonderful things have come before my
eyes, but never such a monster as this.  From what seed can this
have sprung, or are you a favorite of good fortune and have met
with it by chance.  Ah, no, said the farmer, no favorite
am I.  I am a poor soldier, who because he could no longer
support himself hung his soldier's coat on a nail and took to
farming land.  I have a brother who is rich and well known to you,
lord king, but I, because I have nothing, am forgotten by everyone.
Then the king felt compassion for him, and said, you shall be
raised from your poverty, and shall have such gifts from me that
you shall be equal to your rich brother.  Then he bestowed
on him much gold, and lands, and meadows, and herds, and made him
immensely rich, so that the wealth of the other brother could
not be compared with his.  When the rich brother heard what the
poor one had gained for himself with one single turnip, he
envied him, and thought in every way how he also could come by a
similar piece of luck.  He set about it in a much more cunning
way, however, and took gold and horses and carried them to the
king, and made certain the king would give him a much larger
present in return.  If his brother had got so much for one
turnip, what would he not carry away with him in return for such
beautiful things as these.  The king accepted his present, and
said he had nothing to give him in return that was more rare and
excellent than the great turnip.  So the rich man was obliged to
put his brother's turnip in a cart and have it taken to his home.
There, he did not know on whom to vent his rage and anger, until
bad thoughts came to him, and he resolved to kill his brother.
He hired murderers, who were to lie in ambush, and then he went
to his brother and said, dear brother, I know of a hidden
treasure, we will dig it up together, and divide it between us.
The other agreed to this, and accompanied him without suspicion.
While they were on their way the murderers fell on him, bound
him, and would have hanged him to a tree.  But just as they were
doing this, loud singing and the sound of a horse's feet were
heard in the distance.  On this their hearts were filled with
terror, and they pushed their prisoner hastily into the sack, hung
it on a branch, and took to flight.  He, however, worked up there
until he had made a hole in the sack through which he could put his
head.  The man who was coming by was no other than a traveling
student, a young fellow who rode on his way through the wood
joyously singing his song.  When he who was aloft saw that someone
was passing below him, he cried, good day.  You have come at
a lucky moment.  The student looked round on every side, but did
not know whence the voice came.  At last he said, who calls
me.  Then an answer came from the top of the tree, raise your
eyes, here I sit aloft in the sack of wisdom.  In a short time
have I learnt great things, compared with this all schools are
a jest, in a very short time I shall have learnt everything, and
shall descend wiser than all other men.  I understand the stars,
and the tracks of the winds, the sand of the sea, the healing of
illness, and the virtues of all herbs, birds and stones.  If
you were once within it you would feel what noble things issue
forth from the sack of knowledge.
The student, when he heard all this, was astonished, and said,
blessed be the hour in which I have found you.  May not I also
enter the sack for a while.  He who was above replied as if
unwillingly, for a short time I will let you get into it, if
you reward me and give me good words, but you must wait an hour
longer, for one thing remains which I must learn before I do it.
When the student had waited a while he became impatient, and begged
to be allowed to get in at once, his thirst for knowledge was
so very great.  So he who was above pretended
at last to yield, and said, in order that I may come forth from
the house of knowledge you must let it down by the rope, and
then you shall enter it.  So the student let the sack down,
untied it, and set him free, and then cried, now draw me up at
once, and was about to get into the sack.  Halt, said the other,
that won't do, and took him by the head and put him upside down
into the sack, fastened it, and drew the disciple of wisdom up
the tree by the rope.  Then he swung him in the air and said, how
goes it with you, my dear fellow.  Behold, already you feel wisdom
coming, and you are gaining valuable experience.  Keep perfectly
quiet until you become wiser.  Thereupon he mounted the student's
horse and rode away, but in an hour's time sent someone to let
the student out again.
At the time when our Lord still walked this earth, he and St.
Peter stopped one evening at a smith's and received free
quarters.  Then it came to pass that a poor beggar, hard pressed
by age and infirmity, came to this house and begged alms of the
smith.  St. Peter had compassion on him and said, Lord and
master, if it please you, cure his torments that he may be able
to win his own bread.  The Lord said kindly, smith, lend me your
forge, and put on some coals for me, and then I will make this
ailing old man young again.  The smith was quite willing, and
St. Peter blew the bellows, and when the coal fire sparkled up
large and high our Lord took the little old man, pushed him in
the forge in the midst of the red-hot fire, so that he glowed like
a rose-bush, and praised God with a loud voice.  After that the
Lord went to the quenching tub, put the glowing little man into
it so that the water closed over
him, and after he had carefully cooled him, gave him his blessing,
when behold the little man sprang nimbly out, looking fresh,
straight, healthy, and as if he were but twenty.  The smith, who
had watched everything closely and attentively, invited them
all to supper.  He, however, had an old half-blind crooked,
mother-in-law who went to the youth, and with great earnestness
asked if the fire had burnt him much.  He answered that he had never
felt more comfortable, and that he had sat in the red heat
as if he had been in cool dew.  The youth's words echoed in the
ears of the old woman all night long, and early next morning,
when the Lord had gone on his way again and had heartily thanked
the smith, the latter thought he might make his old mother-in-law
young again likewise, as he had watched everything so carefully,
and it lay in the province of his trade.  So he called to ask her
if she, too, would like to go bounding about like a girl of
eighteen.  She said, with all my heart, as the youth has come
out of it so well.  So the smith made a great fire, and thrust
the old woman into it, and she writhed about this way and that,
and uttered terrible cries of murder.  Sit still.  Why are
you screaming and jumping about so, cried he, and as he spoke
he blew the bellows again until all her rags were burnt.  The
old woman cried without ceasing, and the smith thought to himself,
I have not quite the right art, and took her out and threw her
into the cooling-tub.  Then she screamed so loudly that the smith's
wife upstairs and her daughter-in-law heard it, and they both
ran downstairs, and saw the old woman lying in a heap in the
quenching-tub, howling and screaming, with her face wrinkled and
shriveled and all out of shape.  Thereupon the two, who were
both with child, were so terrified that that very night two
boys were born who were not made like men but apes, and they ran
into the woods, and from them sprang the race of apes.
A certain king had three sons who were all equally dear to
him, and he did not know which of them to appoint as his successor
after his own death.  When the time came when he was about to
die, he summoned them to his bedside and said, dear children,
I have been thinking of something which I will declare unto
you, whichsoever of you is the laziest shall have the kingdom.
The eldest said, then, father, the kingdom is mine, for I am so
idle that if I lie down to rest, and a drop falls in my eye,
I will not open it that I may sleep.  The second said, father,
the kingdom belongs to me, for I am so idle that when I am
sitting by the fire warming myself, I would rather let my heel
be burnt off than draw back my leg.  The third said, father,
the kingdom is mine, for I am so idle that if I were going to
be hanged, and had the rope already round my neck, and any one
put a sharp knife into my hand with which I might cut the rope,
I would rather let myself be hanged than raise my hand to the rope.
When the father heard that, he said, you have carried it the
farthest, and shall be king.
There was once upon a time a shepherd boy whose fame spread
far and wide because of the wise answers which he gave to every
question.  The king of the country heard of it likewise, but
did not believe it, and sent for the boy.  Then he said to
him, if you can give me an answer to three questions which I
will ask you, I will look on you as my own child, and you shall
dwell with me in my royal palace.  The boy said, what are the
three questions.  The king said, the first is, how many drops
of water are there in the ocean.  The shepherd boy answered, lord
king, if you will have all the rivers on earth dammed up so that
not a single drop runs from them into the sea until I have
counted it, I will tell you how many drops there are in the sea.
The king said, the next question is, how many stars are there
in the sky.  The shepherd boy said, give me a great sheet of
white paper, and then he made so many fine points on it with a
pen that they could
scarcely be seen, and it was all but impossible to count them,
any one who looked at them would have lost his sight.  Then he
said, there are as many stars in the sky as there are points
on the paper.  Just count them.  But no one was able to do it.
The king said, the third question is, how many seconds of time
are there in eternity.  Then said the shepherd boy, in
lower pomerania is the diamond mountain, which is two miles
high, two miles wide, and two miles deep.  Every hundred
years a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on it, and
when the whole mountain is worn away by this, then the first
second of eternity will be over.
The king said, you have answered the three questions like a
wise man, and shall henceforth dwell with me in my royal
palace, and I will regard you as my own child.
There was once upon a time a little girl whose father and mother
were dead, and she was so poor that she no longer had a room to
live in, or bed to sleep in, and at last she had nothing else but
the clothes she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her
hand which some charitable soul had given her.  She was good and
pious, however.  And as she was thus forsaken by all the world,
she went forth into the open country, trusting in the good God.
Then a poor man met her, who said, ah, give me something to eat,
I am so hungry.  She handed him the whole of her piece of bread,
and said, may God bless you, and went onwards.  Then came a child
who moaned and said, my head is so cold, give me something to
cover it with.  So she took off her hood and gave it to him.  And
when she had walked a little farther, she met another child who
had no jacket and was frozen with cold.  Then she gave it her
own, and a little farther on one begged for a frock,
and she gave away that also.  At length she got into a forest
and it had already become dark, and there came yet another child,
and asked for a shirt, and the good little girl thought
to herself, it is a dark night and no one sees you, you can very
well give your shirt away, and took it off, and gave away that
also.  And as she so stood, and had not one single thing left,
suddenly some stars from heaven fell down, and they were nothing
else but hard smooth pieces of money, and although she had just
given her shirt away, she had a new one which was of the very
finest linen.  Then she put the money into it, and was rich all
the days of her life.
A father was one day sitting at dinner with his wife and his
children, and a good friend who had come on a visit ate with
them.  And as they thus sat, and it was striking twelve o'clock,
the stranger saw the door open, and a very pale child dressed
in snow-white clothes came in.  It did not look around, and it
did not speak, but went straight into the next room.  Soon
afterwards it came back, and went out at the door again in the
same quiet manner.  On the second and on the third day, it came
also exactly in the same way.  At last the stranger asked the
father to whom the beautiful child that went into the next room
every day at noon belonged.  I have never seen it, said he,
neither did he know to whom it could belong.  The next day when
it again came, the stranger pointed it out to the father, who
however did not see it, and the mother and the children also
all saw nothing.  At this the stranger got up, went to the room
door, opened it a little, and peeped in.  Then he saw the child
sitting on the ground, and busily digging and seeking about
between the boards of the floor, but
when it saw the stranger, it disappeared.  He now told what
he had seen and described the child exactly, and the mother
recognized it, and said, ah, it is my dear child who died a
month ago.  They took up the boards and found two farthings
which the child had once received from its mother that it
might give them to a poor man.  It, however, had thought, you
can buy yourself a biscuit for that, and had kept the farthings,
and hidden them in the openings between the boards.  And therefore
it had had no rest in its grave, and had come every day at noon
to seek for these farthings.  The parents gave the money at
once to a poor man, and after that the child was never seen again.
There was once a young shepherd who wanted very much to marry,
and was acquainted with three sisters who were all equally pretty,
so that it was difficult for him to make a choice, and he could
not decide to give the preference to any one of them.  Then he
asked his mother for advice, and she said, invite all three,
and set some cheese before them, and watch how they eat it.  The
youth did so, the first swallowed the cheese with the rind on,
the second hastily cut the rind off the cheese, but she cut
it so quickly that she left much good cheese with it, and threw
that away also, the third peeled the rind off carefully, and cut
neither too much nor too little.  The shepherd told all this to
his mother, who said, take the third for your wife.  This he did,
and lived contentedly and happily with her.
A sparrow had four young ones in a swallow's nest.  When they
were fledged, some naughty boys pulled out the nest, but
fortunately all the birds got safely away in the high wind.  Then
the old bird was grieved that as his sons had all gone out into
the world, he had not first warned them of every kind of danger,
and given them good instruction how to deal with each.
In the autumn a great many sparrows assembled together in a
wheatfield, and there the old bird met his four children again,
and full of joy took them home with him.  Ah, my dear sons, how
I have been worrying about you all through the summer, because you
got away in the wind without my teaching.  Listen to my words,
obey your father, and be well on your guard.  Little birds have
to encounter great dangers.  And then he asked the eldest where
he had spent the summer, and how he had supported himself.  I
stayed in the gardens, and looked for caterpillars and small worms,
until the cherries were ripe.  Ah, my son, said the father,
tit-bits
are not bad, but there is great risk about them.  On that account
take great care of yourself henceforth, and particularly when
people are going about the gardens who carry long green poles
which are hollow inside and have a little hole at the top.  Yes,
father, but what if a little green leaf is stuck over the hole
with wax, said the son.  Where have you seen that.  In a
merchant's garden, said the youngster.  Oh, my son, merchant folks
are smart folks, said the father.  If you have been among the
children of the world, you have learned worldly craftiness enough,
only see that you use it well, and do not be too confident.
Then he asked the next, where have you passed your time.  At
court, said the son.  Sparrows and silly little birds are of
no use in that place.  There one finds much gold, velvet, silk,
armor, harnesses, sparrow-hawks, screech-owls and lanners.  Keep
to the horses, stable where they winnow oats, or thresh, and
then fortune may give you your daily grain of corn in peace.  Yes,
father, said the son, but when the stable-boys make traps and fix
their gins and snares in the straw, many a one is caught.
Where have you seen that, said the old bird.  At court, among the
stable-boys.  Oh, my son, court boys are bad boys.  If you
have been to court and among the lords, and have left no feathers
there, you have learnt a fair amount, and will know very well
how to go about the world, but look around you and above you,
for the wolves often devour the wisest dogs.
The father examined the third also, where did you seek your
fortune.  I have cast my tub and rope on the cart-roads and
highways, and sometimes met with a grain of corn or barley.  That
is indeed dainty fare, said the father, but take care what you
are about and look carefully around, especially when you see
anyone stooping and about to pick up a stone, for then
you have not much time to waste.  That is true, said the son,
but what if anyone should carry a bit of rock, or ore, ready
beforehand in his breast or pocket.  Where have you seen that.
Among the miners, dear father.  When they get out of the pit,
they generally take little bits of ore with them.  Mining folks
are working folks, and clever folks.
If you have been among mining lads, you have seen and learnt
something, but when you go thither beware, for many a sparrow
has been brought to a bad end by a mining boy throwing a piece
of cobalt.
At length the father came to the youngest son, you, my dear
chirping nestling, were always the silliest and weakest.  Stay
with me, the world has many rough, wicked birds which have
crooked beaks and long claws, and lie in wait for poor little
birds and swallow them.  Keep with those of your own kind, and
pick up little spiders and caterpillars from the trees, or the
houses, and then you will live long in peace.  My dear father,
he who feeds himself without injury to other people fares well,
and no sparrow-hawk, eagle, or kite will hurt him if he commits
himself and his lawful food, evening and morning, faithfully to
God, who is the creator and preserver of all forest and village
birds, who likewise heareth the cry and prayer of the young
ravens, for no sparrow or wren ever falls to the ground except
by his will.  Where have you learnt this.  The son answered,
when the great blast of wind tore me away from you I came to a
church, and there during the summer I have picked up the flies
and spiders from the windows, and heard this discourse preached.
The father of all sparrows fed me all the
summer through, and kept me from all misfortune and from
ferocious birds.  Indeed, my dear son, if you take refuge in
the churches and help to clear away spiders and buzzing flies,
and chirp unto God like the young ravens, and commend
yourself to the eternal creator, all will be well with you,
and that even if the whole world were full of wild malicious birds.
               He who to God commits his ways,
               in silence suffers, waits, and prays,
               preserves his faith and conscience pure,
               he is of God's protection sure.
There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage.  In
front of the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees,
one of which bore white and the other red roses.  She had two
children who were like the two rose-trees, and one was called
snow-white, and the other rose-red.  They were as good and happy,
as busy and cheerful as ever two children in the world were, only
snow-white was more quiet and gentle than rose-red.  Rose-red
liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking
flowers and catching butterflies, but snow-white sat at home
with her mother, and helped her with her house-work, or read to
her when there was nothing to do.
The two children were so fond of one another that they always
held each other by the hand when they went out together, and
when snow-white said, we will not leave each other, rose-red
answered, never so long as we live, and their mother would
add, what one has she must share with the other.
They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries,
and no beasts did them any harm, but came close to them
trustfully.  The little hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of
their hands, the roe grazed by their side, the stag leapt
merrily by them, and the birds sat still upon the boughs, and
sang whatever they knew.
No mishap overtook them, if they had stayed too late in the
forest, and night came on, they laid themselves down near one
another upon the moss, and slept until morning came, and their
mother knew this and did not worry on their account.
Once when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn
had roused them, they saw a beautiful child in a shining white
dress sitting near their bed.  He got up and looked quite kindly
at them, but said nothing and went away into the forest.  And
when they looked round they found that they had been sleeping
quite close to a precipice, and would certainly have fallen into
it in the darkness if they had gone only a few paces further.
And their mother told them that it must have been the angel who
watches over good children.
Snow-white and rose-red kept their mother's little cottage so
neat that it was a pleasure to look inside it.  In the summer
rose-red took care of the house, and every morning laid a wreath
of flowers by her mother's bed before she awoke, in which was
a rose from each tree.  In the winter snow-white lit the fire and
hung the kettle on the hob.  The kettle was of brass and shone
like gold, so brightly was it polished.  In the evening, when
the snowflakes fell, the mother said, go, snow-white, and bolt
the door, and then they sat round the hearth, and the mother
took her spectacles and read aloud out of a large book, and the
two girls listened as they sat and spun.  And close by them lay
a lamb upon the floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a white
dove with its head hidden beneath its wings.
One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together,
someone knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in.  The
mother said, quick, rose-red, open the door, it must be a traveler
who is seeking shelter.  Rose-red went and pushed back the bolt,
thinking that it was a poor man, but it was not.  It was a
bear that stretched his broad, black head within the door.
Rose-red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove
fluttered, and snow-white hid herself behind her mother's bed.
But the bear began to speak and said, do not be afraid, I will
do you no harm.  I am half-frozen, and only want to warm myself
a little beside you.
Poor bear, said the mother, lie down by the fire, only take
care that you do not burn your coat.  Then she cried, snow-white,
rose-red, come out, the bear will do you no harm, he means well.
So they both came out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came
nearer, and were not afraid of him.  The bear said, here,
children, knock the snow out of my coat a little.  So they
brought the broom and swept the bear's hide clean, and he
stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and
comfortably.  It was not long before they grew quite at home,
and played tricks with their clumsy guest.  They tugged his
hair with their hands, put their feet upon his back and rolled
him about, or they took a hazel-switch and beat him, and when he
growled they laughed.  But the bear took it all in good part, only
when they were too rough he called out, leave me alive, children,
               snow-white, rose-red,
               will you beat your wooer dead.
When it was bed-time, and the others went to bed, the mother
said to the bear, you can lie there by the hearth, and then you
will be safe from the cold and the bad weather.  As soon as day
dawned the two children let him out, and he trotted across
the snow into the forest.
Henceforth the bear came every evening at the same time, laid
himself down by the hearth, and let the children amuse themselves
with him as much as they liked.  And they got so used to him that
the doors were never fastened until their black friend had arrived.
When spring had come and all outside was green, the bear said
one morning to snow-white, now I must go away, and cannot come
back for the whole summer.  Where are you going, then, dear bear,
asked snow-white.  I must go into the forest and guard my treasures
from the wicked dwarfs.  In the winter, when the earth is frozen
hard, they are obliged to stay below and cannot work their
way through, but now, when the sun has thawed and warmed the
earth, they break through it, and come out to pry and steal.  And
what once gets into their hands, and in their caves, does not
easily see daylight again.
Snow-white was quite sorry at his departure, and as she unbolted
the door for him, and the bear was hurrying out, he caught against
the bolt and a piece of his hairy coat was torn off, and it
seemed to snow-white as if she had seen gold shining through
it, but she was not sure about it.  The bear ran away quickly,
and was soon out of sight behind the trees.
A short time afterwards the mother sent her children into the
forest to get fire-wood.  There they found a big tree which lay
felled on the ground, and close by the trunk something was
jumping backwards and forwards in the grass, but they could
not make out what it was.  When they came nearer they saw a dwarf
with an old withered face and a snow-white beard a yard long.  The
end of the beard was caught in a crevice of the tree, and the
little fellow was jumping about like a dog tied to a rope, and did
not know what to do.
He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried, why do
you stand there.  Can you not come here and help me.  What are
you up to, little man, asked rose-red.  You stupid, prying
goose, answered the dwarf.  I was going to split the tree to get
a little wood for cooking.  The little bit of food that we people
get is immediately burnt up with heavy logs.  We do not swallow
so much as you coarse, greedy folk.  I had just driven the
wedge safely in, and everything was going as I wished, but the
cursed wedge was too smooth and suddenly sprang out, and the tree
closed so quickly that I could not pull out my beautiful white
beard, so now it is tight in and I cannot get away, and the silly,
sleek, milk-faced things laugh.  Ugh.  How odious you are.
The children tried very hard, but they could not pull the
beard out, it was caught too fast.  I will run and fetch someone,
said rose-red.  You senseless goose, snarled the dwarf.  Why
should you fetch someone.  You are already two too many for me.
Can you not think of something better.  Don't be impatient, said
snow-white, I will help you, and she pulled her scissors out of
her pocket, and cut off the end of the beard.
As soon as the dwarf felt himself free he laid hold of a bag which
lay amongst the roots of the tree, and which was full of gold,
and lifted it up, grumbling to himself, uncouth people, to cut
off a
piece of my fine beard.  Bad luck to you, and then he swung the
bag upon his back, and went off without even once looking at
the children.
Some time afterwards snow-white and rose-red went to catch a
dish of fish.  As they came near the brook they saw something
like a large grasshopper jumping towards the water, as if
it were going to leap in.  They ran to it and found it was the
dwarf.  Where are you going, said rose-red, you surely don't
want to go into the water.  I am not such a fool, cried the
dwarf.  Don't you see that the accursed fish wants to pull
me in.  The little man had been sitting there fishing, and
unluckily the wind had tangled up his beard with the fishing-line.
A moment later a big fish made a bite and the feeble
creature had not strength to pull it out.  The fish kept the
upper hand and pulled the dwarf towards him.  He held on to
all the reeds and rushes, but it was of little good, for he
was forced to follow the movements of the fish, and was in
urgent danger of being dragged into the water.
The girls came just in time.  They held him fast and tried to
free his beard from the line, but all in vain, beard and line
were entangled fast together.  There was nothing to do but to
bring out the scissors and cut the beard, whereby a small part
of it was lost.  When the dwarf saw that he screamed out,
is that civil, you toadstool, to disfigure a man's face.  Was
it not enough to clip off the end of my beard.  Now you have
cut off the best part of it.  I cannot let myself be seen by
my people.  I wish you had been made to run the soles off your
shoes.  Then he took out a sack of pearls which lay in the
rushes, and without another word he dragged it away and
disappeared behind a stone.
It happened that soon afterwards the mother sent the two children
to the town to buy needles and thread, and laces and ribbons.  The
road led them across a heath upon which huge pieces of rock lay
strewn about.  There they noticed a large bird hovering in the
air, flying slowly round and round above them.  It sank lower and
lower, and at last settled near a rock not far away.  Immediately
they heard a loud, piteous cry.  They ran up and saw with horror
that the
eagle had seized their old acquaintance the dwarf, and was going
to carry him off.
The children, full of pity, at once took tight hold of the little
man, and pulled against the eagle so long that at last he let
his booty go.  As soon as the dwarf had recovered from his
first fright he cried with his shrill voice, could you not have
done it more carefully.  You dragged at my brown coat so that it
is all torn and full of holes, you clumsy creatures.  Then he
took up a sack full of precious stones, and slipped away again
under the rock into his hole.  The girls, who by this time
were used to his ingratitude, went on their way and did their
business in the town.
As they crossed the heath again on their way home they surprised
the dwarf, who had emptied out his bag of precious stones in
a clean spot, and had not thought that anyone would come there
so late.  The evening sun shone upon the brilliant stones.
They glittered and sparkled with all colors so beautifully that
the children stood still and stared at them.  Why do you stand
gaping there, cried the dwarf, and his ashen-gray face became
copper-red with rage.  He was still cursing when a loud
growling was heard, and a black bear came trotting towards them
out of the forest.  The dwarf sprang up in a fright, but he
could not reach his cave, for the bear was already close.  Then
in the dread of his heart he cried, dear mr. Bear, spare me, I
will give you all my treasures, look, the beautiful jewels
lying there. Grant me my life.  What do you want with such a
slender little fellow as I.  You would not feel me between
your teeth.  Come, take these two wicked girls, they are tender
morsels for you, fat as young quails, for mercy's sake eat them.
The bear took no heed of his words, but gave the wicked creature
a single blow with his paw, and he did not move again.
The girls had run away, but the bear called to them, snow-white
and rose-red, do not be afraid.  Wait, I will come with you.
Then they recognised his voice and waited, and when he came up
to them suddenly his bearskin fell off, and he stood there,
a handsome man, clothed all in gold.  I am a king's son, he said,
and I was bewitched by that wicked dwarf, who had stolen my
treasures.
I have had to run about the forest as a savage bear until I was
freed by his death.  Now he has got his well-deserved punishment.
Snow-white was married to him, and rose-red to his brother,
and they divided between them the great treasure which the dwarf
had gathered together in his cave.  The old mother lived
peacefully and happily with her children for many years.  She took
the two rose-trees with her, and they stood before her window, and
every year bore the most beautiful roses, white and red.
Let no one ever say that a poor tailor cannot do great things
and win high honors.  All that is needed is that he should go to
the right smithy, and what is of most consequence, that he
should have good luck.  A civil, smart tailor's apprentice
once went out traveling, and came into a great forest, and,
as he did not know the way, he lost himself.  Night fell and
nothing was left for him to do in this painful solitude, but to
seek a bed.  He might certainly have found a good bed on the
soft moss, but the fear of wild beasts let him have no rest
there, and at last he made up his mind to spend the night in
a tree.  He sought out a high oak, climbed up to the top of it,
and thanked God that he had his goose with him, for otherwise
the wind which blew over the top of the tree would have carried
him away.
After he had spent some hours in the darkness, not without fear
and trembling, he saw at a very short distance the glimmer of a
light, and as he thought that a human habitation might be there,
where he would be better off than on the branches of a tree, he
got carefully down and went towards the light.  It guided him
to a small hut that was woven together of reeds and rushes.  He
knocked
boldly, the door opened, and by the light which came forth he saw
a little hoary old man who wore a coat made of bits of colored
stuff sewn together.  Who are you, and what do you want, asked
the man in a grumbling voice.  I am a poor tailor, he answered,
whom night has surprised here in the wilderness, and I earnestly
beg you to take me into your hut until morning.  Go your way,
replied the old man in a surly voice, I will have nothing to do
with tramps, seek for yourself a shelter elsewhere.  Having said
this, he was about to slip into his hut again, but the tailor
held him so tightly by the corner of his coat, and pleaded so
piteously, that the old man, who was not so ill-natured as he
wished to appear, was at last softened, and took him into the
hut with him where he gave him something to eat, and then offered
him a very good bed in a corner.
The weary tailor needed no rocking, but slept sweetly till morning,
but even then would not have thought of getting up, if he had
not been aroused by a great noise.  A violent sound of screaming
and roaring forced its way through the thin walls of the hut.
The tailor, full of unwonted courage, jumped up, put his clothes
on in haste, and hurried out.  Then close by the hut, he saw
a great black bull and a beautiful stag, which were just
preparing for a violent struggle.  They rushed at each other with
such extreme rage that the ground shook with their trampling,
and the air resounded with their cries.  For a long time it
was uncertain which of the two would gain the victory, at
length the stag thrust his horns into his adversary's body,
whereupon the bull fell to the earth with a terrific roar, and
was finished off by a few strokes from the stag.
The tailor, who had watched the fight with astonishment, was
still standing there motionless, when the stag in full career
bounded up to him, and before he could escape, caught him up
on his great horns.  He had not much time to collect his thoughts,
for it went in a swift race over stock and stone, mountain and
valley, wood and meadow.  He held with both hands to the ends
of the horns, and resigned himself to his fate.  It seemed
to him just as if he were flying away.  At length the stag
stopped in front of a wall of rock, and gently let the tailor
down.  The tailor, more dead than alive, required
some time to come to himself.  When he had in some degree
recovered, the stag, which had remained standing by him, pushed
its horns with such force against a door in the rock, that
it sprang open.  Flames of fire shot forth, after which followed
a great smoke, which hid the stag from his sight.  The tailor
did not know what to do, or whither to turn, in order to get
out of this desert and back to human beings again.  Whilst
he was standing thus undecided, a voice sounded out of the rock,
which cried to him, enter without fear, no evil shall befall you.
He hesitated, but driven by a mysterious force, he obeyed the
voice and went through the iron-door into a large spacious
hall, whose ceiling, walls and floor were made of shining polished
square stones, on each of which were carved signs which were
unknown to him.  He looked at everything full of admiration,
and was on the point of going out again, when he once more
heard the voice which said to him, step on the stone
which lies in the middle of the hall, and great good fortune
awaits you.
His courage had already grown so great that he obeyed the order.
The stone began to give way under his feet, and sank slowly down
into the depths.  When it was once more firm, and the tailor looked
round, he found himself in a hall which in size resembled the
former.  Here, however, there was more to look at and to admire.
Hollow places were cut in the walls, in which stood vases of
transparent glass and filled with colored spirit or with a
bluish vapor.  On the floor of the hall two great glass chests
stood opposite to each other, which at once excited his curiosity.
When he went to one of them he saw inside it a handsome structure
like a castle surrounded by farm-buildings, stables and barns,
and a quantity of other good things.  Everything was small, but
exceedingly carefully and delicately made, and seemed to be
carved out by a dexterous hand with the greatest precision.
He might not have turned away his eyes from the consideration
of this rarity for some time, had not the voice once more made
itself heard.  It ordered him to turn round and look at the
glass chest which was standing opposite.  How his admiration
increased when
he saw therein a maiden of the greatest beauty.  She lay as if
asleep, and was wrapped in her long fair hair as in a
precious mantle.  Her eyes were closely shut, but the brightness
of her complexion and a ribbon which her breathing moved to
and fro, left no doubt that she was alive.  The tailor was
looking at the beauty with beating heart, when she suddenly
opened her eyes, and started up at the sight of him with a shock
of joy.  Divine providence, cried she, my deliverance is
at hand.  Quick, quick, help me out of my prison.  If you
push back the bolt of this glass coffin, then I shall be free.
The tailor obeyed without delay, and she immediately raised up
the glass lid, came out and hastened into the corner of the hall,
where she covered herself with a large cloak.  Then she seated
herself on a
stone, ordered the young man to come to her, and after she had
imprinted a friendly kiss on his lips, she said, my long-desired
deliverer, kind heaven has guided you to me, and put an end
to my sorrows.  On the self-same day when they end, shall your
happiness begin.  You are the husband chosen for me by heaven, and
shall pass your life in unbroken joy, loved by me, and rich to
overflowing in every earthly possession.  Seat yourself, and
listen to the story of my life.
I am the daughter of a rich count.  My parents died when I was
still in my tender youth, and recommended me in their last will
to my elder brother, by whom I was brought up.  We loved each
other so tenderly, and were so alike in our way of thinking
and our inclinations, that we both embraced the resolution
never to marry, but to stay together to the end of our lives.
In our house there was no lack of company.  Neighbors and friends
visited us often, and we showed the greatest hospitality to
every one.  So it came to pass one evening that a stranger came
riding to our castle, and, under pretext of not being able to
get on to the next place, begged for shelter for the night.
We granted his request with ready courtesy, and he entertained us
in the most agreeable manner during supper by conversation
intermingled with stories.  My brother liked the stranger so
much that he begged him to spend a couple of days with us, to
which, after some hesitation, he consented.  We did not rise
from table until late in the night, the stranger was shown to
a room, and I hastened, as I was tired, to lay my limbs in
my soft bed.  Hardly had I fallen off to sleep, when the sound
of faint and delightful music awoke me.  As I could not
conceive from whence it came, I wanted to summon my waiting-maid
who slept in the next room, but to my astonishment I found that
speech was taken away from me by an unknown force.  I felt as if
a nightmare were weighing down my breast, and was unable to make
the very slightest sound.  In the meantime, by the light of
my night-lamp, I saw the stranger enter my room through two
doors which were fast bolted.  He came to me and said, that
by magic arts which were at his command, he had caused the
lovely music to sound in order to awaken me, and
that he now forced his way through all fastenings with the
intention of offering his hand and heart.  My dislike of his
magic arts was so great, however, that I refused to answer him.
He remained for a time standing without moving, apparently with
the idea of waiting for a favorable decision, but as I continued
to keep silence, he angrily declared he would revenge himself
and find means to punish my pride, and left the room.  I
passed the night in the greatest disquietude, and fell asleep
only towards morning.  When I awoke, I hurried to my brother, but
did not find him in his room, and the attendants told me that he
had ridden forth with the stranger to the chase at daybreak.

I at once suspected nothing good.  I dressed myself quickly,
ordered my palfrey to be saddled, and accompanied only by one
servant, rode full gallop to the forest.  The servant fell with
his horse, and could not follow me, for the horse had broken its
foot.  I pursued my way without halting, and in a few minutes
I saw the stranger coming towards me with a beautiful stag which
he led by a cord.  I asked him where he had left my brother, and
how he had come by this stag, out of whose great eyes I saw
tears flowing.  Instead of answering me, he began to laugh
loudly.  I fell into a great rage at this, pulled out a pistol
and discharged it at the monster, but the ball rebounded from
his breast and went into my horse's head.  I fell to the ground,
and the stranger muttered some words which deprived me of
consciousness.
When I came to my senses again I found myself in this underground
cave in a glass coffin.  The magician appeared once again, and
said he had changed my brother into a stag, my castle with all
that belonged to it, diminished in size by his arts, he had
shut up in the other glass chest, and my people, who were all
turned into smoke, he had confined in glass bottles.  He
told me that if I would now comply with his wish, it would be an
easy thing for him to put everything back in its former state, as
he had nothing to do but open the vessels, and everything would
return once more to its natural form.  I answered him as little
as I had done the first time.  He vanished and left me in my
prison, in which a deep sleep came on me.
Among the visions which passed before my eyes, the most
comforting was that in which a young man came and set me free,
and when I opened my eyes to-day I saw you, and beheld my
dream fulfilled.  Help me to accomplish the other things
which happened in those visions.  The first is that we lift the
glass chest in which my castle is enclosed, on to that broad stone.
As soon as the stone was laden, it began to rise up on high with
the maiden and the young man, and mounted through the opening
of the ceiling into the upper hall, from whence they then could
easily reach the open air.  Here the maiden opened the lid, and
it was marvellous to behold how the castle, the houses, and
the farm buildings which were enclosed, stretched themselves out
and grew to their natural size with the greatest rapidity.
After this, the maiden and the tailor returned to the cave beneath
the earth, and had the vessels which were filled with smoke
carried up by the stone.  The maiden had scarcely opened the
bottles when the blue smoke rushed out and changed itself into
living men, in whom she recognized her servants and her people.
Her joy was still more increased when her brother, who had
killed the magician in the form of the bull, came out of the
forest towards them in his human form, and on the self-same day
the maiden, in accordance with her promise, gave her hand at the
altar to the lucky tailor.
Harry was lazy, and although he had nothing else to do but
drive his goat daily to pasture, he nevertheless groaned
when he went home after his day's work was done.  It is indeed
a heavy burden, said he, and a wearisome employment to drive
a goat into the field this way year after year, till late into
the autumn.  If one could but lie down and sleep, but no, one
must have
one's eyes open lest the goat hurts the young trees, or squeezes
itself through the hedge into a garden, or runs away altogether.
How can one have any rest, or enjoy one's life.  He seated
himself, collected his thoughts, and considered how he could
set his shoulders free from this burden.  For a long time all
thinking was to no purpose, but suddenly it was as if scales
fell from his eyes.  I know what I will do, he cried, I will
marry fat trina who has also a goat, and can take mine out with
hers, and then I shall have no more need to trouble myself.
So harry got up, set his weary legs in motion, and went right
across the street, for it was no farther, to where the parents of
fat trina lived, and asked for their industrious and virtuous
daughter in marriage.  The parents did not reflect long.  Birds
of a feather, flock together, they thought, and consented.
So fat trina became harry's wife, and led out both the goats.
Harry had a good time of it, and had no work that he required to
rest from but his own idleness.  He went out with her only now
and then, and said, I merely do it that I may afterwards enjoy
rest more, otherwise one loses all feeling for it.
But fat trina was no less idle.  Dear harry, said she one day,
why should we make our lives so toilsome when there is no need
for it, and thus ruin the best days of our youth.  Would it not
be better for us to give the two goats which disturb us every
morning in our sweetest sleep with their bleating, to our
neighbor, and he will give us a beehive for them.  We will put
the beehive in a sunny place behind the house, and trouble
ourselves no more about it.  Bees do not require to be taken
care of, or driven into the field.  They fly out and find the way
home again for themselves, and collect honey without giving the
very least trouble.  You have spoken like a sensible woman,
replied harry.  We will carry out your proposal without delay,
and besides all that, honey tastes better and nourishes one
better than goat's milk, and it can be kept longer too.
The neighbor willingly gave a beehive for the two goats.  The
bees flew in and out from early morning till late evening
without ever tiring, and filled the hive with the most beautiful
honey, so
that in autumn harry was able to take a whole pitcherful out of
it.
They placed the jug on a board which was fixed to the wall of
their bed-room, and as they were afraid that it might be stolen,
or that the mice might find it, trina brought in a stout
hazel-stick and put it beside her bed, so that without
unnecessary motion she might reach it with her hand, and drive
away the uninvited guests.
Lazy harry did not like to leave his bed before noon.  He who
rises early, said he, wastes his substance.  One morning when
he was still lying amongst the feathers in broad daylight,
resting after his long sleep, he said to his wife, women are
fond of sweet things, and you are always tasting the honey in
private.  It will be better for us to exchange it for a goose
with a young gosling, before you eat up the whole of it.  But,
answered trina, not before we have a child to take care of them.
Am I to worry myself with the little geese, and spend all my
strength on them to no purpose.  Do you think, said harry, that
the youngster will look after geese.  Now-a-days children no
longer obey, they do according to their own fancy, because they
consider themselves cleverer than their parents, just like
that lad who was sent to seek the cow and chased three blackbirds.
Oh, replied trina, this one shall fare badly if he does not do
what I say.  I will take a stick and belabor his skin with more
blows than I can count.  Look, harry, cried she in her zeal, and
seized the stick with which she used to drive the mice away, look,
this is the way I will fall on him.  She reached her arm out
to strike, but unhappily hit the honey-pitcher above the bed.
The pitcher struck against the wall and fell down in shards,
and the fine honey streamed out on the ground.  There lie the
goose and the young gosling, said
harry, and want no looking after.  But it is lucky that the
pitcher did not fall on my head.  We have all reason to be
satisfied with our lot.  And then as he saw that there was still
some honey in one of the shards he stretched out his hand for
it, and said quite gaily, the remains, my wife, we will still
eat with relish, and we will rest a little after the fright we
have had.  What does it matter if we do get up a little later.
The day is always long enough.  Yes, answered trina, we shall
always get to the end of it at the proper time.  You know, the
snail was once asked to a wedding and set out to go, but arrived
at the christening.  In front of the house it fell over the
fence, and said, speed does no good.
There was once upon a time a king, but where he reigned and what
he was called, I do not know.  He had no son, but an only daughter
who had always been ill, and no doctor had been able to cure her.
Then it was foretold to the king that his daughter would find her
health by eating an apple.  So he ordered it to be proclaimed
throughout the whole of his kingdom, that whosoever brought his
daughter an apple with which she could find her health, should
have her to wife, and be king.  This became known to a peasant
who had three sons, and he said to the eldest, go out into the
garden and take a basketful of those beautiful apples with
the red cheeks and carry them to the court, perhaps the king's
daughter will be able to find her health with them, and then you
will marry her and be king.  The lad did so, and set out.  When
he had gone a short way he met a hoary little man who asked him
what he had there in the basket, to which replied uele for so was
he named, frogs, legs.  At this the little man said, well, so
shall it be, and remain, and went away.  At length uele arrived at
the palace, and made it known that he had brought apples which
would cure the king's daughter if she ate them.  This delighted the
king hugely, and he caused uele to be brought before him, but,
alas.  When he opened the basket, instead of having apples in it he
had frogs, legs which were still kicking about.  On this the king
grew angry, and had him driven out of the house.  When he got home
he told his father how it had fared with him.  Then the father
sent the next son, who was called same, but all went with him just
as it had gone with uele.  He also met the hoary little man,
who asked what he had there in the basket.  Same said, hogs,
bristles, and the hoary man said, well, so shall it be, and remain.
When same got to the king's palace and said he brought apples with
which the king's daughter might find her health, they did not
want to let him go in, and said that one fellow had already been
there, and had treated them as if they were fools.  Same, however,
maintained that he certainly had the apples, and that they ought
to let him go in.  At length they believed him, and led him to the
king.  But when he uncovered the basket, he had but hogs, bristles.
This enraged the king most terribly, so he caused same to be whipped
out of the house.  When he got home he related all that had befallen
him, whereupon the youngest boy, whose name was Hans, but who was
always called stupid Hans, came and asked his father if he might
go with some apples.  Oh, said the father, you would be just the
right fellow for such a thing.  If the clever one can't manage it,
what can you do.  The boy, however, insisted and said, indeed,
father, I wish to go.  Just get away, you stupid fellow, you must
wait till you are wiser, said the father to that, and turned his
back.  Hans, however, pulled at the back of his smock and
said, indeed, father, I wish to go.  Well, then, so far as I am
concerned you may go, but you will soon come home again, replied
the old man in a spiteful voice.  The boy was tremendously delighted
and jumped for joy.  Well, act like a fool.  You grow more stupid
every day, said the father again.  But Hans was not discouraged, and
did not let it spoil his pleasure, but as it was then night, he
thought he might as well wait until the morrow, for he could
not get to court that day.  All night long he could not sleep in his
bed, and if he did doze for a moment, he dreamt of beautiful
maidens, of palaces, of gold, and of silver, and all kinds of things
of that sort.  Early in the morning, he went forth on his way, and
directly afterwards the little shabby-looking man in his icy
clothes, came to him and asked what he was carrying in the basket.
Hans gave him the answer that he was carrying apples with which the
king's daughter was to find her health.  Then, said the little man,
so shall they be, and remain.  But at the court they would none of
them let Hans go in, for they said two had already been there who
had told them that they were bringing apples, and one of them had
frogs, legs, and the other hogs, bristles.  Hans, however,
resolutely maintained that he most certainly had no frogs, legs,
but some of the most beautiful apples in the whole kingdom.  As he
spoke so pleasantly, the door-keeper thought he could not be
telling a lie, and asked him to go in, and he was right, for when
Hans uncovered his basket in the king's presence, golden-yellow
apples came tumbling out.  The king was delighted, and caused some
of them to be
taken to his daughter, and then waited in anxious expectation until
news should be brought to him of the effect they had.  But
before much time had passed by, news was brought to him.  And who
do you think it was who came.  It was the daughter herself.  As
soon as she had eaten of those apples, she was cured, and sprang
out of her bed.  The joy the king felt cannot be described.  But
now he did not want to give his daughter in marriage to Hans, and
said he must first make him a boat which would go quicker on dry
land than on water.  Hans agreed to the condition, and went home,
and related how it had fared with him.  Then the father sent
uele into
the forest to make a boat of that kind.  He worked diligently,
and whistled all the time.  At mid-day, when the sun was at
its highest, came the little icy man and asked what he was making.
Uele gave him for answer, wooden bowls for the kitchen.  The
icy man said, so it shall be, and remain.  By evening uele
thought he had now made the boat, but when he wanted to get
into it, he had nothing but wooden bowls.  The next day same
went into the forest, but everything went with him just as it
had done with uele.  On the third day stupid Hans went.  He worked
away most industriously, so that the whole forest resounded
with the heavy blows, and all the while he sang and whistled
right merrily.  At mid-day, when it was the hottest, the little
man came again, and asked what he was making.  A boat which will
go quicker on dry land than on water, replied Hans, and when
I have finished it, I am to have the king's daughter for my wife.
Well, said the little man, such an one shall it be, and remain.
In the evening, when the sun had turned into gold, Hans finished
his boat, and all that was wanted for it.  He got into it and
rowed to the palace.  The boat went as swiftly as the wind.  The
king saw it from afar, but would not give his daughter to Hans
yet, and said he must first take a hundred hares out to pasture
from early morning until late evening, and if one of them got
away, he should not have his daughter.  Hans was contented
with this, and the next day went with his flock to the pasture,
and took great care that none of them ran away.
Before many hours had passed came a servant from the palace, and
told Hans that he must give her a hare instantly, for some
visitors had come unexpectedly.  Hans, however, was very well
aware what that meant, and said he would not give her one.  The
king might set some hare soup before his guest next day.  The
maid, however, would not accept his refusal, and at last she
began to argue with him.  Then Hans said that if the king's
daughter came herself, he would give her a fare.  The maid told
this in the palace, and the daughter did go herself.  In the
meantime the little man came again to Hans, and asked him what he
was doing there.  He said he had to watch over a hundred hares
and see that none of them ran away,
and then he might marry the king's daughter and be king.  Good,
said the little man, there is a whistle for you, and if one of
them runs away, just whistle with it, and then it will come
back again.  When the king's daughter came, Hans gave her a
hare into her apron, but when she had gone about a hundred steps
with it, he whistled, and the hare jumped out of the apron,
and before she could turn round was back to the flock again.
When the evening came the hare-herd whistled once more, and
looked to see if all were there, and then drove them to the
palace.  The king wondered how Hans had been able to take a
hundred hares to graze without losing any of them, but he still
would not give him his daughter yet, and said he must now
bring him a feather from the griffin's tail.  Hans set out at
once, and walked straight forwards.  In the evening he came
to a castle, and there he asked for a night's lodging, for at
that time there were no inns.  The lord of the castle promised
him that with much pleasure, and asked where he was going.  Hans
answered, to the griffin.  Oh, to the griffin.  They tell me
he knows everything, and I have lost the key of an iron money-chest.
So you might be so good as to ask him where it is.  Yes,
indeed, said Hans, I will do that.  Early the next morning he
went onwards, and on his way arrived at another castle in which
he again stayed the night.  When the people who lived there
learnt that he was going to the griffin, they said they had
in the house a daughter who was ill, and that they had already
tried every means to cure her, but none of them had done her
any good, and he might be so kind as to ask the griffin what
would make their daughter healthy again.  Hans said he would
willingly do that, and went onwards.  Then he came to a lake,
and instead of a ferry-boat, a tall, tall man was there who
had to carry everybody across.  The man asked Hans whither he was
journeying.  To the griffin, said Hans.  Then when you get to
him, said the man, just ask him why I am forced to carry
everybody over the lake.  Yes, indeed, most certainly I'll do
that, said Hans.  Then the man took him up on his shoulders, and
carried him across.  At length Hans arrived at the griffin's
house, but the wife only was at home, and not the griffin
himself.  Then the woman asked him what he wanted.  Thereupon he
told her everything - that he had to get a feather out of the
griffin's tail, and that there was a castle where they had lost
the key of their money-chest, and he was to ask the griffin where
it was - that in another castle the daughter was ill, and
he was to learn what would cure her - and then not far from thence
there was a lake and a man beside it, who was forced to carry
people across it, and he was very anxious to learn why the man
was obliged to do it.  Then said the woman, look here, my good
friend, no christian can speak to the griffin.  He devours them
all, but if you like you can lie down under his bed, and in the
night, when he is quite fast asleep, you can reach out and pull
a feather out of his tail, and as for those things which you
are to learn, I will ask about them myself.  Hans was quite
satisfied with
this, and got under the bed.  In the evening, the griffin came
home, and as soon as he entered the room, said, wife, I smell
a christian.  Yes, said the woman, one was here to-day, but he
went away again.  And on that the griffin said no more.
In the middle of the night when the griffin was snoring loudly,
Hans reached out and plucked a feather from his tail.  The
griffin woke up instantly, and said, wife, I smell a christian,
and it seems to me that somebody was pulling at my tail.  His
wife said, you have certainly been dreaming, and I told you
before that a christian was here to-day, but that he went away
again.  He told me all kinds of things - that in one castle they
had lost the key of their money-chest, and could find it nowhere.
Oh.  The fools, said the griffin.  The key lies in the wood-house
under a log of wood behind the door.  And then he said that in
another castle the daughter was ill, and they knew no remedy
that would cure her.  Oh.  The fools, said the griffin.  Under
the cellar-steps a toad has made its nest of her hair, and if
she got her hair back she would be well.  And then he also
said that there was a place where there was a lake and a man
beside it who was forced to carry everybody across.  Oh, the
fool, said the griffin.  If he only put one man down in the
middle, he would never have to carry another across.  Early the
next morning the griffin got up and went out.  Then Hans
came forth from under the bed, and he had a beautiful feather,
and had heard what the griffin had said about the key, and
the daughter, and the man.  The griffin's wife repeated it all
once more to him that he might not forget it, and then he went
home again.  First he came to the man by the lake, who asked
him what the griffin had said, but Hans replied that he must
first carry him across, and then he would tell him.  So the man
carried him across, and when he was over Hans told him that all
he had to do was to set one person down in the middle of the
lake, and then he would never have to carry over any more.  The
man was hugely delighted, and told Hans that out of gratitude he
would take him once more across, and back again.  But Hans said
no, he would save him the trouble, he was quite satisfied
already, and pursued his way.  Then he came to the
castle where the daughter was ill.  He took her on his shoulders,
for she could not walk, and carried her down the cellar-steps and
pulled out the toad's nest from beneath the lowest step and gave
it into her hand, and she sprang off his shoulder and up the
steps before him, and was quite cured.  Then were the father and
mother beyond measure rejoiced, and they gave Hans gifts of gold
and of silver, and whatsoever else he wished for, that they
gave him.  And when he got to the other castle he went at once
into the wood-house, and found the key under the log of wood
behind the door, and took it to the lord of the castle.  He
was not a little pleased, and gave Hans as a reward much of the
gold that was in the chest, and all kinds of things besides,
such as cows, and sheep, and goats.  When Hans arrived before
the king, with all these things - with the money, and the gold,
and the silver and the cows, sheep and goats, the king asked
him how he had come by them.  Then Hans told him that the
griffin gave every one whatsoever he wanted.  So the king thought
he himself could make use of such things, and set out on his way
to the griffin, but when he got to the lake, it happened that
he was the very first who arrived there after Hans, and the man
put him down in the middle of it and went away, and the king
was drowned.  Hans, however, married the daughter, and became
king.
There were once a man and a woman who had an only child, and
lived quite alone in a solitary valley.  It came to pass that the
mother once went into the wood to gather branches of fir, and
took with her little Hans, who was just two years old.  As it
was spring-time, and the child took pleasure in the many-colored
flowers, she went still further onwards with him into the forest.
Suddenly two robbers sprang out of the thicket, seized the mother
and child, and carried them far away into the black forest, where
no one ever came from one year's end to another.  The poor woman
urgently begged the robbers to set her and her child free, but
their hearts were made of stone, they would not listen to her
prayers and entreaties, and drove her on farther by force.  After
they had worked their way through bushes and briars for about
two miles, they came to a rock where there was a door, at which
the robbers knocked and it opened at once.  They had to go through
a long dark passage, which burnt on the hearth.  On the wall hung
swords, sabres, and other deadly weapons which gleamed in the
light, and in the midst stood a black table at which four other
robbers were sitting gambling, and the captain sat at the head of
it.  As soon as he saw the woman he came and spoke to her, and
told her to be at ease and have no fear, they would do nothing to
hurt her, but she must look after the housekeeping, and if she
kept everything in order, she should not fare ill with them.
Thereupon they gave her something to eat, and showed her a bed
where she might sleep with her child.
The woman stayed many years with the robbers, and Hans grew
tall and strong.  His mother told him stories, and taught him
to read an old book of tales about knights which she found in
the cave.  When Hans was nine years old, he made himself a strong
club out of a branch of fir, hid it behind the bed, and then
went to his mother and said, dear mother, pray tell me who is
my father.  I must and will know.  His mother was silent and
would not tell him, that he might not become home-sick.  Moreover
she knew that the godless robbers would not let him go away, but
it almost broke her heart that Hans should not go to his father.
In the night, when the robbers came home from their robbing
expedition, Hans brought out his club, stood before the captain,
and said, I now wish to know who my father is, and if you do not
tell me at once I will strike you down.  Then the captain laughed,
and gave Hans such a box on the ear that he rolled under the table.
Hans got up again, held his tongue, and thought, I will wait
another year and then try again, perhaps I shall do better then.
When the year was over, he brought out his club again, rubbed the
dust off it, looked at it well, and said,
it is a stout strong club.  At night the robbers came home,
drank one jug of wine after another, and their heads began to be
heavy.  Then Hans brought out his club, placed himself before
the captain, and asked him who his father was.  But the captain
again gave him such a vigorous box on the ear that Hans rolled
under the table.  However, it was not long before he was up again,
and so beat the captain and the robbers with his club, that
they could no longer move either their arms or their legs.
His mother stood in a corner full of admiration for his bravery
and strength.  When Hans had done his work, he went to his mother,
and said, now I have shown myself to be in earnest, but now I
must also know who my father is.  Dear Hans, answered the
mother, come, we will go and seek him until we find him.  She
took from the captain the key to the entrance-door, and Hans
fetched a great meal-sack and packed into it gold and silver, and
whatsoever else he could find that was beautiful, until it was
full, and then he took it on his back.  They left the cave, but
how Hans did open his eyes when he came out of the darkness
into daylight, and saw the green forest, and the flowers, and
the birds, and the morning sun in the sky.  He stood there and
wondered at everything just as if he were not quite right in the
head.  His mother looked for the way home, and when they had
walked for a couple of hours, they got safely into their lonely
valley and to their little house.  The father was sitting in the
doorway.  He wept for joy when he recognized his wife and heard
that Hans was his son, for he had long regarded them both as
dead.  But Hans, although he was not twelve years old, was a
head taller than his father.  They went into the little room
together, but Hans had scarcely put his sack on the bench by
the stove, than the whole house began to crack - the bench broke
down and then the floor, and the heavy sack fell through into
the cellar.  God save us, cried the father, what's that.  Now
you have broken our little house to pieces.  Don't let that turn
your hair grey, dear father, answered Hans.  There, in that sack,
is more than is wanting for a new house.  The father and Hans
at once began to build a new house, to buy cattle and land, and
to keep a farm.  Hans ploughed the fields, and
when he followed the plough and pushed it into the ground, the
bullocks had scarcely any need to draw.
The next spring, Hans said, keep all the money and have made for
me a walking-stick that weighs a hundred-weight, that I may
go a-traveling.  When the stick was ready, he left his father's
house, went forth, and came to a deep, dark forest.  There he
heard something crunching and cracking, looked round, and saw
a fir-tree which was wound round like a rope from the bottom to
the top, and when he looked upwards he saw a great fellow who
had laid hold of the tree and was twisting it like a willow-wand.
Hullo, cried Hans, what are you doing up there.  The fellow
replied, I got some faggots together yesterday and am twisting
a rope for them.  That is what I like, thought Hans, he has some
strength, and he called to him, leave that alone, and come with
me.  The fellow came down, and he was taller by a whole head than
Hans, and Hans was not little.  Your name is now fir-twister,
said Hans to him.  Thereupon they went further and heard something
knocking and hammering with such force that the ground shook
at every stroke.  Shortly afterwards they came to a mighty rock,
before which a giant was standing and striking great pieces of
it away with his fist.  When Hans asked what he was doing, he
answered, at night, when I want to sleep, bears, wolves, and
other vermin of that kind come, which sniff and snuffle about
me and won't let me rest, so I want to build myself a house and
lay myself inside it, so that I may have some peace.  Oh indeed,
thought Hans, I can make use of this one also, and said to him,
leave your house-building alone, and go with me.  You shall be
called rock-splitter.  The man consented, and they all three
roamed through the forest, and wherever they went the wild beasts
were terrified, and ran away from them.  In the evening they
came to an old deserted castle, went up into it, and
laid themselves down in the hall to sleep.  The next morning Hans
went into the garden.  It had run quite wild, and was full of
thorns and brambles.  And as he was thus walking round about,
a wild boar rushed at him, he, however, gave it such a blow
with his club that it fell directly.  He took it on his shoulders
and carried it
in, and they put it on a spit, roasted it, and enjoyed themselves.
Then they arranged that each day, in turn, two should go out
hunting, and one should stay at home, and cook nine pounds
of meat for each of them.  Fir-twister stayed at home the first,
and Hans and rock-splitter went out hunting.  When fir-twister
was busy cooking, a little shrivelled-up old mannikin came to him
in the castle, and asked for some meat.  Be off, you sneaking
imp, he answered, you need no meat.  But how astonished fir-twister
was when the little insignificant dwarf sprang up at him, and
belabored him so with his fists that he could not defend himself,
but fell on the ground and gasped for breath.  The dwarf did
not go away until he had thoroughly vented his anger on him.
When the two others came home from hunting, fir-twister said
nothing to them of the old mannikin and of the blows which he
himself had received, and thought, when they stay at home, they
may just try their  chance with the little scrubbing-brush, and
the mere thought of that gave him pleasure already.
The next day rock-splitter stayed at home, and he fared just
as fir-twister had done, being very ill-treated by the dwarf
because he was not willing to give him any meat.  When the others
came home in the evening, fir-twister saw clearly what he had
suffered, but both kept silence, and thought, Hans also
must taste some of that soup.
Hans, who had to stay at home the next day, did his work in
the kitchen as it had to be done, and as he was standing
skimming the pan, the dwarf came and without more ado
demanded a piece of meat.  Then Hans thought, he is a poor
wretch, I will give him some of my share, that the others may
not run short, and handed him a bit.  When the dwarf had
devoured it, he again asked for some meat, and good-natured
Hans gave it to him, and told him it was a handsome piece,
and that he was to be content with it.  But the dwarf begged
again for the third time.  You are shameless, said Hans, and gave
him none.  Then the malicious dwarf wanted to spring on him and
treat him as he had treated fir-twister and rock-splitter, but
he had chosen the wrong man.  Hans, without
exerting himself much, gave him a couple of blows which made
him jump down the castle steps.  Hans was about to run after him,
but fell right over, flat on his face.  When he rose up again,
the dwarf had got the start of him.  Hans hurried after him as far
as the forest, and saw him slip into a hole in the rock.  Hans now
went home, but he had marked the spot.  When the two others
came back, they were surprised that Hans was so well.  He told
them what had happened, and then they no longer concealed how
it had fared with them.  Hans laughed and said, it served you
quite right.  Why were you so mean with your meat.  It is a
disgrace that you who are so big should have let yourselves be
beaten by the dwarf.  Thereupon they took a basket and a rope,
and all three went to the hole in the rock into which the
dwarf had slipped, and let Hans and his club
down in the basket.  When Hans had reached the bottom, he found
a door, and when he opened it a maiden was sitting there
who was lovely as any picture, nay, so beautiful that no words
can express it, and by her side sat the dwarf and grinned at
Hans like a sea-cat.  She, however, was bound with chains, and
looked so mournfully at him that Hans felt great pity for her,
and thought to himself, you must deliver her out of the power of
the wicked dwarf, and gave him such a blow with his club that he
fell down dead.  Immediately the chains fell from
the maiden, and Hans was enraptured with her beauty.  She told
him she was a king's daughter whom a savage count had stolen
away from her home, and imprisoned there among the rocks,
because she would have nothing to say to him.  The count, however,
had set the dwarf as a watchman, and he had made her suffer
misery and vexation enough.  And now Hans placed the maiden in the
basket and had her drawn up.  The basket came down again, but
Hans did not trust his two companions, and thought, they have
already shown themselves to be false, and told me nothing about
the dwarf.  Who knows what design they may have against me.  So
he put his club in the basket, and it was lucky he did, for when
the basket was half-way up, they let it fall again, and if Hans
had really been sitting in it he would have been killed.  But
now he did not know how he was to work his way out of the depths,
and when he turned it over and over in his mind he found no
counsel.  It is indeed sad, said he to himself, that I have to
waste away down here, and as he was thus walking backwards and
forwards, he once more came to the little chamber where the maiden
had been sitting, and saw that the dwarf had a ring on his finger
which shone and sparkled.  Then he drew it off and put it on, and
when he turned it round on his finger, he suddenly heard something
rustle over his head.  He looked up and saw spirits of the air
hovering above, who told him he was their master, and asked
what his desire might be.  Hans was at first struck dumb, but
afterwards he said that they were to carry him up again.  They
obeyed instantly, and it was just as if he had flown up himself.
But when he had arrived there, he found no one in sight.
Fir-twister and rock-splitter
had hurried away, and had taken the beautiful maiden with them.
But Hans turned the ring, and the spirits of the air came and
told him that the two were on the sea.  Hans ran and ran without
stopping, until he came to the sea-shore, and there far, far out
on the water, he perceived a little boat in which his faithless
comrades were sitting, and in fierce anger he leapt, without
thinking what he was doing, club in hand into the water, and
began to swim, but the club, which weighed a hundredweight,
dragged him deep down until he was all but drowned.  Then
in the very nick of time he turned his ring, and immediately
the spirits of the air came and bore him as swift as lightning into
the boat.  He swung his club and gave his wicked comrades the
reward they merited and threw them into the water, and then he
sailed with the beautiful maiden, who had been in the greatest
alarm, and whom he delivered for the second time, home to her
father and mother, and married her, and all rejoiced exceedingly.
A poor wood-cutter lived with his wife and three daughters in
a little hut on the edge of a lonely forest.  One morning as he
was about to go to his work, he said to his wife, let our
eldest daughter bring me my dinner into the forest, or I shall
never get my work done, and in order that she may not miss
her way, he added, I will take a bag of millet with me and strew
the seeds on the path.  When, therefore, the sun was just above
the centre of the forest, the girl set out on her way with a
bowl of soup, but the field-sparrows, and wood-sparrows,
larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up the
millet long before, and the girl could not find the track.
Trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and
night began to fall.  The trees rustled in the darkness, the
owls hooted, and she began to be afraid.  Then in the distance she
perceived a light which glimmered between the trees.  There
ought to be some people living there, who can take me in for the
night,
thought she, and went up to the light.  It was not long before
she came to a house the windows of which were all lighted up.  She
knocked, and a rough voice from inside cried, come in.  The
girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of
the room.  Just come in, cried the voice, and when she opened the
door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting
his face with both hands, and his white beard fell down over
the table almost as far as the ground.  By the stove lay three
animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow.  The girl told her
story to the old man, and begged for shelter for the night.  The
man said,
               my pretty hen,
               my pretty cock,
               my pretty brindled cow,
               what are you saying now.
Duks, answered the animals, and that must have meant, we are
willing, for the old man said, here you shall have shelter
and food, go to the fire, and cook us our supper.  The girl
found in the kitchen abundance of everything, and cooked a
good supper, but had no thought of the animals.  She carried
the full bowl to the table, seated herself by the gray-haired man,
ate and satisfied her hunger.  When she had had enough, she said,
but now I am tired, where is there a bed in which I can lie down,
and sleep.  The animals replied,
               thou hast eaten with him,
               thou hast drunk with him,
               thou hast had no thought for us,
               so find out for thyself where thou canst pass the
               night.
Then said the old man, just go upstairs, and you will find a
room with two beds, shake them up, and put white linen on them,
and then I, too, will come and lie down to sleep.  The girl
went up, and when she had shaken the beds and put clean sheets
on, she lay down in one of them without waiting any longer for
the old man.  After some time the gray-haired man came, held his
candle over the girl and shook his head.  When he saw that she
had fallen into a sound sleep, he opened a trap-door, and let her
down into the cellar.
Late at night, the wood-cutter came home, and reproached his
wife for leaving him to hunger all day.  It is not my fault,
she replied, the girl went out with your dinner, and must have
lost herself, but surely she will come back to-morrow.  The
wood-cutter, however, arose before dawn to go into the forest, and
requested that the second daughter should take him his dinner
that day.  I will take a bag with lentils, said he, the seeds
are larger than millet, the girl will see them better, and
can't lose her way.  At dinner-time, therefore, the girl took
out the food, but the lentils had disappeared.  The birds of the
forest had picked them up as they had done the day before,
and had left none.  The girl wandered about in the forest
until night, and then she too reached the house of the old man,
was told to go in, and begged for food and a bed.  The man with
the white beard again asked the animals,
               my pretty hen,
               my pretty cock,
               my pretty brindled cow,
               what are you saying now.
The animals again replied 'duks, and everything happened just
as it had happened the day before.  The girl cooked a good meal,
ate and drank with the old man, and did not concern herself about
the animals, and when she inquired about her bed they answered,
               thou hast eaten with him,
               thou hast drunk with him,
               thou hast had no thought for us,
               so find out for thyself where thou canst pass
               the night.
When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his
head, and let her down into the cellar.
On the third morning the wood-cutter said to his wife, send our
youngest child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good
and obedient, and will stay in the right path, and not rove about
like her sisters, the wild bumble-bees.  The mother did not
want to do it, and said, am I to lose my dearest child, as well.
Have no fear, he replied, the girl will not go astray.  She is
too prudent and sensible.  Besides I will take some peas with me,
strew them about.  They are still larger than lentils, and will
show her the way.  But when the girl went out with her basket on
her arm, the wood-pigeons had already got all the peas in their
crops, and she did not know which way she was to turn.  She was
full of sorrow and never ceased to think how hungry her father
would be, and how her good mother would grieve, if she did
not go home.  At length when it grew dark, she saw the light and
came to the house in the forest.  She begged quite prettily to
be allowed to spend the night there, and the man with the white
beard again asked his animals,
               my pretty hen,
               my pretty cock,
               my pretty brindled cow,
               what are you saying now.
Duks, said they.  Then the girl went to the stove where the
animals were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked
their smooth feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled
cow between her horns, and when, in obedience to the old man's
orders, she had made ready some good soup, and the bowl was
placed upon the table, she said, am I to eat as much as I want,
and the good animals to have nothing.  Outside is food in plenty,
I will look after them first.  So she went and brought some
barley and stewed it for the cock and hen, and a whole armful
of sweet-smelling hay for the cow.  I hope you will like it,
dear animals, said she, and you shall have a refreshing draught
in case you are thirsty.  Then she fetched a bucketful of water,
and the cock and hen jumped on to the edge of it and dipped
their beaks in, and then held up their heads as the birds do when
they drink, and the brindled cow also took a hearty draught.  When
the animals were fed, the girl seated herself at the table by
the old man, and ate what he had left.  It was not long before
the cock and the hen began to thrust their heads beneath
their wings, and the eyes of the cow likewise began to blink.
Then said the girl, ought we not to go to bed.
               My pretty hen,
               my pretty cock,
               my pretty brindled cow,
               what are you saying now.
The animals answered, duks,
               thou hast eaten with us,
               thou hast drunk with us,
               thou hast had kind thought for all of us,
               we wish thee good-night.
Then the maiden went upstairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid
clean sheets on them, and when she had done it the old man came
and lay down in one of the beds, and his white beard reached down
to his feet.  The girl lay down on the other, said her prayers,
and fell asleep.

She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise
in the house that she awoke.  There was a sound of cracking and
splitting in every corner, and the doors sprang open, and beat
against the walls.  The beams groaned as if they were being torn
out of their joints, it seemed as if the staircase were falling
down, and at length there was a crash as if the entire roof had
fallen in.  When, however, all grew quiet once more, and the girl
was not hurt, she stayed quietly lying where she was, and fell
asleep again.  But when she woke up in the morning with the
brilliancy of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold.  She was
lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal
splendor.  On the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of
green silk, the bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet,
and on a chair close by, was a pair of slippers embroidered
with pearls.  The girl believed that she was in a dream, but
three richly clad attendants came in, and asked what orders she
would like to give.  If you will go, she replied, I will get up
at once and make ready some soup for the old man, and then I
will feed the pretty hen, and the pretty cock, and the pretty
brindled cow.  She thought the old man was up already, and looked
round at his bed.  He, however, was not lying in it, but a
stranger.

And while she was looking at him, and becoming aware that he was
young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, I am
a king's son, and was bewitched by a wicked witch, and made to
live in this forest, as an old gray-haired man.  No one was
allowed to be with me but my three attendants in the form
of a cock, a hen, and a brindled cow.  The spell was not to be
broken until a girl came to us whose heart was so good that she
showed herself full of love, not only towards mankind, but towards
animals - and that you have done, and by you at midnight we were
set free, and the old hut in the forest was changed back again
into my royal palace.  And when they had arisen, the king's son
ordered the three attendants to set out and fetch the father and
mother of the girl to the marriage feast.  But where are my two
sisters, inquired the maiden.  I have locked them in the cellar,
and to-morrow they shall be led into the forest, and shall live
as servants to a charcoal-burner, until they have grown kinder,
and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.
There was once upon a time a very old woman, who lived with her
flock of geese in a remote clearing in the mountains, and there
had a little house.  The clearing was surrounded by a large forest,
and every morning the old woman took her crutch and hobbled
into it.  There, however, she was quite active, more so than
any one would have thought, considering her age, and collected
grass for her geese, picked all the wild fruit she could
reach, and carried everything home on her back.  Anyone would have
thought that the heavy load would have weighed her to the ground,
but she always brought it safely home.  If anyone met her, she
greeted him quite courteously.  Good day, dear countryman, it
is a fine day.  Ah, you wonder that I should drag grass about, but
everyone must take his burden on his back.  Nevertheless, people
did not like to meet her if they could help it, and took by
preference a round-about way, and when a father with his boys
passed her, he whispered to them, beware of the old woman.  She
has claws beneath her gloves.  She is a witch.
One morning, a handsome young man was going through the forest.
The sun shone bright, the birds sang, a cool breeze crept
through the leaves, and he was full of joy and gladness.  He
had as yet met no one, when he suddenly perceived the old witch
kneeling on the ground cutting grass with a sickle.  She had
already thrust a whole load into her bundle, and near it stood
two baskets, which were filled with wild apples and pears.  But,
good little mother, said he, how can you carry all that away.  I
must carry it, dear sir, answered she, rich folk's children
have no need to do such things, but with the peasant folk the
saying goes, don't look behind you, you will only see how crooked
your back is.
Will you help me, she said, as he remained standing by her.
You have still a straight back and young legs, it would be a
trifle to you.  Besides, my house is not so very far from here,
it stands there on the heath behind the hill.  How soon you
would bound up thither.  The young man took compassion on the
old woman.  My father is certainly no peasant, replied he, but
a rich count.  Nevertheless, that you may see that it is not only
peasants who can carry things, I will take your bundle.  If
you will try it, said she, I shall be very glad.  You will
certainly have to walk for an hour, but what will that matter to
you, only you must carry the apples and pears as well.  The young
man felt somewhat uneasy when he heard of an hour's walk, but the
old woman would not let him off, packed the bundle on his back,
and hung the two baskets on his arm.  See, it is quite light, said
she.  No, it is not light, answered the count, and pulled a rueful
face.  Verily, the bundle weighs as heavily as if it were full of
cobblestones, and the apples and pears are as heavy as lead.  I
can scarcely breathe.  He had a mind to put everything down
again, but the old woman would not allow it.  Just look, said
she mockingly, the young gentleman will not carry what I, an old
woman, have so often dragged along.  You are ready with fine words,
but when it comes to be earnest, you want to take to your heels.
Why are you standing loitering there.  She continued, step out.
No one will take the bundle off again.  As long as he walked on
level ground, it was still bearable, but when they came to the hill
and had to climb, and the stones rolled down under his feet as if
they were alive, it was beyond his strength.  Drops of sweat stood
on his forehead, and ran, hot and cold, down his back.  Mother,
said he, I can go no farther.  I want to rest a little.  Not
here, answered the old woman, when we have arrived at our journey's
end, you can rest.  But now you must go forward.  Who knows
what good it may do you.  Old woman, you are becoming shameless,
said the count, and tried to throw off the bundle, but he labored
in vain.  It stuck as fast to his back as if it grew there.
He turned and twisted, but he could not get rid of it.  The old
woman laughed at this, and sprang about quite delighted on
her crutch.  Don't get angry, dear sir, said she, you are growing
as
red in the face as a turkey-cock.  Carry your bundle patiently.
I will give you a good present when we get home.
What could he do.  He was obliged to submit to his fate, and
crawl along patiently behind the old woman.  She seemed to grow
more and more nimble, and his burden still heavier.  All
at once she made a bound, jumped on to the bundle and seated
herself on the top of it.  And however withered she might be,
she was yet heavier than the stoutest country lass.  The
youth's knees trembled, but when he did not go on, the old woman
hit him about the legs with a switch and with stinging-nettles.
Groaning continually, he climbed the mountain, and at length
reached the old woman's house, when he was just about to drop.
When the geese perceived the old woman, they flapped their wings,
stretched out their necks, ran to meet her, cackling all the
while.  Behind the flock walked, stick in hand, an old wench,
strong and big, but ugly as night.  Good mother, said she to
the old woman, has anything happened to you, you have stayed
away so long.  By no means, my dear daughter, answered she,
I have met with nothing bad, but, on the contrary, with this
kind gentleman, who has carried my burden for me.  Only think,
he even took me on his back when I was
tired.  The way, too, has not seemed long to us.  We have been
merry, and have been cracking jokes with each other all the
time.  At last the old woman slid down, took the bundle off the
young man's back, and the baskets from his arm, looked at him
quite kindly, and said, now seat yourself on the bench before
the door, and rest.  You have fairly earned your wages, and they
shall not be wanting.  Then she said to the goose-girl, go
into the house, my dear daughter, it is not becoming for you
to be alone with a young gentleman.  One must not pour oil on to
the fire, he might fall in love with you.  The count knew not
whether to laugh or to cry.  Such a sweetheart as that, thought
he, could not touch my heart, even if she were thirty years
younger.  In the meantime the old woman stroked
and fondled her geese as if they were children, and then went
into the house with her daughter.  The youth lay down on the
bench, under a wild apple-tree.  The air was warm and mild.  On
all sides stretched a green meadow, which was set with cowslips,
wild thyme, and a thousand other flowers.  Through the midst
of it rippled a clear brook on which the sun sparkled, and
the white geese went walking backwards and forwards, or paddled in
the water.  It is quite delightful here, said he, but I am so
tired that I cannot keep my eyes open.  I will sleep a little.
If only a gust of wind does not come and blow my legs off my
body, for they are as rotten as tinder.
When he had slept a little while, the old woman came and shook
him till he awoke.  Sit up, said she, you can not stay here.  I
have certainly treated you ill enough, still it has not cost you
your life.  Of money and land you have no need, here is something
else for you.  Thereupon she thrust a little box into his hand,
which was cut out of a single emerald.  Take great care of it,
said she, it will bring you good fortune.  The count sprang up,
and as he felt that he was quite fresh, and had recovered his
vigor, he thanked the old woman for her present, and set off
without even once looking back at the beautiful daughter.  When
he was already some way off, he still heard in the distance the
noisy cry of the geese.
For three days the count had to wander in the wilderness before
he could find his way out.  He then reached a large town, and as
no
one knew him, he was led into the royal palace, where the king
and queen were sitting on their throne.  The count fell on one
knee, drew the emerald box out of his pocket, and laid it at the
queen's feet.  She bade him rise and hand her the little box.
Hardly, however, had she opened it, and looked therein, than she
fell as if dead to the ground.  The count was seized by the king's
servants, and was being led to prison, when the queen opened
her eyes, and ordered them to release him, and every one was to
go out, as she wished to speak with him in private.
When the queen was alone, she began to weep bitterly, and said,
of what use to me are the splendors and honors with which I am
surrounded.  Every morning I awake in pain and sorrow.  I had
three daughters, the youngest of whom was so beautiful that the
whole world looked on her as a wonder.  She was as white as snow,
as rosy as apple-blossom, and her hair as radiant as sun-beams.
When she cried, not tears fell from her eyes, but pearls and
jewels only.  When she was fifteen years old, the king summoned
all three sisters to come before his throne.  You should have seen
how all the people gazed when the youngest entered, it was just
as if the sun were rising.  Then the king spoke, my daughters,
I know not when my last day may arrive.  I will to-day decide what
each shall receive at my death.  You all love me, but the one
of you who loves me best, shall fare the best.  Each of them
said she loved him best.  Can you not express to me, said the king,
how much you do love me, and thus I shall see what you mean.  The
eldest spoke, I love my father as dearly as the sweetest sugar.
The second, I love my father as dearly as my prettiest dress.  But
the youngest was silent.  Then the father said, and you,
my dearest child, how much do you love me.  I do not know, and
can compare my love with nothing.  But her father insisted that
she should name something.  So she said at last, the best food
does not please me without salt, therefore I love my father
like salt.  When the king heard that, he fell into a passion, and
said, if you love me like salt, your love shall also be repaid you
with salt.  Then he divided the kingdom between the two elder,
but caused a sack of salt to be bound on the back of the
youngest, and two servants had to lead her forth into the
wild forest.  We all begged and prayed for her, said the queen,
but the king's anger was not to be appeased.  How she cried
when she had to leave us.  The whole road was strewn with the
pearls which flowed from her eyes.  The king soon afterwards
repented of his great severity, and had the whole forest
searched for the poor child, but no one could find her.  When
I think that the wild beasts have devoured her, I know not how
to contain myself for sorrow.  Many a time I console myself
with the hope that she is still alive, and may have hidden herself
in a cave, or has found shelter with compassionate people.  But
picture to yourself, when I opened your little emerald box, a
pearl lay therein, of exactly the same kind as those which used
to fall from my daughter's eyes.  And then you can also imagine
how the sight of it stirred my heart.  You must tell me how you
came by that pearl.  The count told her that he had received it
from the old woman in the forest, who had appeared very strange
to him, and must be a witch, but he had neither seen nor heard
anything of the queen's child.  The king and the queen resolved
to seek out the old woman.  They thought that there where the
pearl had been, they would obtain news of their daughter.

The old woman was sitting in that lonely place at her spinning-wheel
spinning.  It was already dusk, and a log which was burning
on the hearth gave a scanty light.  All at once there was a noise
outside, the geese were coming home from the pasture, and uttering
their hoarse cries.  Soon afterwards the daughter also entered.
But the old woman scarcely thanked her, and only shook her
head a little.  The daughter sat down beside her, took her
spinning-wheel, and twisted the threads as nimbly as a young girl.
Thus they both sat for two hours, and exchanged never a word.  At
last something rustled at the window and two fiery eyes peered
in.  It was an old night-owl, which cried 'uhu, three times.  The
old woman looked up just a little, then she said, now, my little
daughter, it is time for you to go out and do your work.  She rose
and went out, and where did she go.  Over the meadows ever onward
into the valley.  At last she came to a well, with three old
oak-trees standing beside it.  Meanwhile
the moon had risen large and round over the mountain, and
it was so light that one could have found a needle.  She removed
a skin which covered her face, then bent down to the well, and
began to wash herself.  When she had finished, she dipped the
skin also in the water, and then laid it on the meadow, so that
it should bleach in the moonlight, and dry again.  But how the
maiden was changed.  Such a change as that was never seen before.
When the gray mask fell off, her golden hair broke forth like
sun-beams, and spread about like a mantle over her whole form.
Her eyes shone out as brightly as the stars in heaven, and her
cheeks bloomed a soft red like apple-blossom.
But the fair maiden was sad.  She sat down and wept bitterly.
One tear after another forced itself out of her eyes, and rolled
through her long hair to the ground.  There she sat, and would
have remained sitting a long time, if there had not been a rustling
and cracking in the boughs of the neighboring tree.  She sprang
up like a roe which has been overtaken by the shot of the hunter.
Just then the moon was obscured by a dark cloud, and in an instant
the maiden had put on the old skin and vanished, like a light
blown out by the wind.
She ran back home, trembling like an aspen-leaf.  The old woman
was standing on the threshold, and the girl was about to relate
what had befallen her, but the old woman laughed kindly, and
said, I already know all.  She led her into the room and lighted
a new log.  She did not, however, sit down to her spinning again,
but fetched a broom and began to sweep and scour.  All must be
clean and sweet, she said to the girl.  But, mother, said the
maiden, why do you begin work at so late an hour.  What do you
expect.  Do you know then what time it is, asked the old woman.
Not yet midnight, answered the maiden, but already past eleven
o'clock.  Do you not remember, continued the old woman, that
it is three years to-day since you came to me.  Your time is up,
we can no longer remain together.  The girl was terrified, and
said, alas, dear mother, will you cast me off.  Where shall I go.
I have no friends, and no home to which I can go.  I have always
done as you
bade me, and you have always been satisfied with me.  Do not send
me away.  The old woman would not tell the maiden what lay before
her.  My stay here is over, she said to her, but when I depart,
house and parlor must be clean.  Therefore do not hinder me in
my work.  Have no care for yourself, you shall find a roof to
shelter you, and the wages which I will give you shall also
content you.  But tell me what is about to happen, the maiden
continued to entreat.  I tell you again, do not hinder me in my
work.  Do not say a word more, go to your chamber, take the skin
off your face, and put on the silken gown which you had on when
you came to me, and then wait in your chamber until I call you.
But I must once more tell of the king and queen, who had
journeyed forth with the count in order to seek out the old woman
in the wilderness.  The count had strayed away from them in the
wood by night, and had to walk onwards alone.  Next day it seemed
to him that he was on the right track.  He still went forward,
until darkness came on, then he climbed a tree, intending to
pass the night there, for he feared that he might lose his way.
When the moon illumined the surrounding country he perceived a
figure coming down the mountain.  She had no stick in her hand,
but yet he could see that it was the goose-girl, whom he had
seen before in the house of the old woman.  Oho, cried he, there
she comes, and if I once get hold of one of the witches, the
other shall not escape me.  But how astonished he was, when
she went to the well, took off the skin and washed herself,
when her golden hair fell down all about her, and she was
more beautiful than anyone whom he had ever seen in the whole
world.  He hardly dared to breathe, but stretched his head as
far forward through the leaves as he could, and stared at her.
Either he bent over too far, or whatever the cause might be, the
bough suddenly cracked, and that very moment the maiden slipped
into the skin, sprang away like a roe, and as the moon was
suddenly covered, disappeared from his sight.  Hardly had she
disappeared, before the count descended from the tree, and
hastened after her with nimble steps.  He had not been gone
long before he saw, in the twilight, two figures coming over
the meadow.
It was the king and queen, who had perceived from a distance the
light shining in the old woman's little house, and were going
to it.  The count told them what wonderful things he had seen
by the well, and they did not doubt that it had been their lost
daughter.  They walked onwards full of joy, and soon came to the
little house.  The geese were sitting all round it, and had
thrust their heads under their wings and were sleeping, and not
one of them moved.  The king and queen looked in at the window,
where the old woman was sitting quite quietly spinning, nodding
her head and never looking round.  The room was perfectly clean,
as if the little mist men, who carry no dust on their feet, lived
there.  Their daughter, however, they did not see.  They gazed at
all this for a long time, until at last they took heart, and
knocked softly at the window.  The old woman appeared to have
been expecting them.  She rose, and called out quite kindly,
come in.  I know you already.  When they had entered the room,
the old woman said, you might have spared yourself the long
walk, if you had not three years ago unjustly driven away
your child, who is so good and lovable.  No harm has come to her.
For three years she has had to tend the geese.  With them she has
learnt no evil, but has preserved her purity of heart.  You,
however, have been sufficiently punished by the misery in which
you have lived.  Then she went to the chamber and called, come
out, my little daughter.  Thereupon the door opened, and the
princess stepped out in her silken garments, with her golden
hair and her shining eyes, and it was as if an angel from heaven
had entered.
She went up to her father and mother, fell on their necks and
kissed them.  There was no help for it, they all had to weep for
joy.  The young count stood near them, and when she perceived him
she became as red in the face as a moss-rose, she herself did
not know why.  The king said, my dear child, I have given away
my kingdom, what shall I give you.  She needs nothing, said
the old woman.  I give her the tears that she has wept on your
account.  They are precious pearls, finer than those that are
found in the sea, and worth more than your whole kingdom, and I
give her my little
house as payment for her services.  When the old woman had said
that, she disappeared from their sight.  The walls rattled a
little, and when the king and queen looked round, the little
house had changed into a splendid palace, a royal table had been
spread, and the servants were running hither and thither.
The story goes still further, but my grandmother, who related
it to me, had partly lost her memory, and had forgotten the rest.
I shall always believe that the beautiful princess married the
count, and that they remained together in the palace, and
lived there in all happiness so long as God willed it.  Whether
the snow-white geese, which were kept near the little hut, were
verily young maidens no one need take offence, whom the old
woman had taken under her protection, and whether they now
received their human form again, and stayed as handmaids to the
young queen, I do not exactly know, but I suspect it.  This
much is certain, that the old woman was no witch, as people
thought, but a wise woman, who meant well.  Very likely it was
she who, at the princess's birth, gave her the gift of weeping
pearls instead of tears.  That does not happen nowadays, or else
the poor would soon become rich.
When adam and eve were driven out of paradise, they were
compelled to build a house for themselves on barren ground, and
eat their bread in the sweat of their brow.  Adam dug up the land,
and eve spun.  Every year eve brought a child into the world, but
the children were unlike each other, some pretty, and some ugly.
After a considerable time had gone by, God sent an angel to them,
to announce that he was coming to inspect their household.  Eve,
delighted that the lord should be so gracious, cleaned her
house diligently, decked it with flowers, and
strewed rushes on the floor.  Then she brought in her children,
but only the beautiful ones.  She washed and bathed them, combed
their hair, put clean raiment on them, and cautioned them to
conduct themselves decorously and modestly in the presence of the
Lord.  They were to bow down before him civilly, hold out their
hands, and to answer his questions modestly and sensibly.  The
ugly children, however, were not to let themselves be seen.  One
hid himself beneath the hay, another under the roof, a third
in the straw, the fourth in the stove, the fifth in the cellar,
the sixth under a tub, the seventh beneath the wine-cask, the
eighth under an old fur cloak, the ninth and tenth beneath the
cloth out of which she always made their clothes, and the
eleventh and twelfth under the leather out of which she cut
their shoes.  She had scarcely got ready, before there was a
knock at the house-door.  Adam looked through a chink, and saw
that it was the Lord.  Adam opened the door respectfully,
and the heavenly father entered.  There, in a row, stood the
pretty children, and bowed before him, held out their hands,
and knelt down.  The Lord, however, began to bless them, laid
his hands on the first, and said, thou shalt be a powerful king,
and to the second, thou a prince, to the third, thou a
count, to the fourth, thou a knight, to the fifth, thou
a nobleman, to the sixth, thou a burgher, to the seventh, thou
a merchant, to the eighth, thou a learned man.  He bestowed
upon them also all his richest blessings.  When eve saw that
the Lord was so mild and gracious, she thought, I will bring
hither my ill-favored children also, it may be that he will
bestow his blessing on them likewise.
So she ran and brought them out of the hay, the straw, the
stove, and wherever else she had concealed them.  Then came the
whole coarse, dirty, scabby, sooty band.  The Lord smiled,
looked at them all, and said, I will bless these also.  He laid
his hands on the first, and said to him, thou shalt be a peasant,
to the second, thou a fisherman, to the third,
thou a smith, to the fourth, thou a tanner, to the fifth, thou
a weaver, to the sixth, thou a shoemaker, to the seventh, thou
a tailor, to the eighth, thou a potter, to the ninth, thou a
waggoner, to the tenth, thou a sailor, to the eleventh, thou
a messenger, to the twelfth, thou a scullion all the days of
thy life.
When eve had heard all this she said, Lord, how unequally thou
dividest thy gifts.  After all they are all of them my children,
whom I have brought into the world, thy favors should be given
to all alike.  But God answered, eve, thou dost not understand.
It is right and necessary that the entire world should be
supplied from thy children.  If they were all princes and lords,
who would grow corn, thresh it, grind and bake it.  Who would
be blacksmiths, weavers, carpenters, masons, laborers, tailors
and seamstresses.  Each shall have his own place, so that one
shall support the other, and all shall be fed like the limbs of
one body.  Then eve answered, ah, Lord, forgive me, I was too
quick in speaking to thee.  Have thy divine will with my children.
There was once upon a time a miller who lived with his wife
in great contentment.  They had money and land, and their
prosperity increased year by year more and more.  But ill
luck comes like a thief in the night.  As their wealth had
increased so did it again decrease, year by year, and at last
the miller could
hardly call the mill in which he lived, his own.  He was in great
distress, and when he lay down after his day's work, found no
rest, but tossed about in his bed, sorely troubled.  One
morning he rose before daybreak and went out into the open air,
thinking that perhaps there his heart might become lighter.  As
he was stepping over the mill-dam the first sunbeam was just
breaking forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond.  He
turned round and perceived a beautiful woman, rising slowly out
of the water.  Her long hair, which she was holding off her
shoulders with her soft hands, fell down on both sides,
and covered her white body.  He soon saw that she was the
nixie of the mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether
he should run away or stay where he was.  But the nixie made her
sweet voice heard, called him by his name, and asked him why he
was so sad.  The miller was at first struck dumb, but when he heard
her speak so kindly, he took heart, and told her how he had
formerly lived in wealth and happiness, but that now he was so
poor that he did not know what to do.  Be easy, answered the nixie,
I will make you richer and happier than you have ever been
before, only you must promise to give me the young thing which
has just been born in your house.  What else can that be, thought
the miller, but a puppy or a kitten, and he promised her what she
desired.  The nixie descended into the water again, and he
hurried back to his mill, consoled and in good spirits.  He had
not yet reached it, when the maid-servant came out of the house
and cried to him to rejoice, for his wife had given birth to
a little boy.  The miller stood as if struck by lightning.  He
saw very well that the cunning nixie had been aware of it, and had
cheated him.  Hanging his head, he went up to his wife's bedside
and when she said, why do you not rejoice over the fine boy, he
told her what had befallen him, and what kind of a promise he had
given to the nixie.  Of what use to me are riches and prosperity,
he added, if I am to lose my child.  But what can I do.  Even the
relatives, who had come thither to wish them joy, did not know
what to say.  In the meantime prosperity again returned to the
miller's house.  All that he undertook succeeded.  It was as
if presses and coffers filled themselves
of their own accord, and as if money multiplied nightly in the
cupboards.  It was not long before his wealth was greater than
it had ever been before.  But he could not rejoice over it
untroubled, for the bargain which he had made with the nixie
tormented his soul.  Whenever he passed the mill-pond, he feared
she might ascend and remind him of his debt.  He never let the
boy himself go near the water.  Beware, he said to him, if you
do but touch the water, a hand will rise, seize you, and draw you
down.  But as year after year went by and the nixie did not show
herself again, the miller began to feel at ease.  The boy grew
up to be a youth and was apprenticed to a huntsman.  When he had
learnt everything, and had become an excellent huntsman, the
lord of the village took him into his service.  In the village
lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who pleased the
huntsman, and when his master perceived that, he gave him a
little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and
happily, and loved each other with all their hearts.
One day the huntsman was chasing a roe.  And when the animal
turned aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued
it and at last shot it.  He did not notice that he was now in
the neighborhood of the dangerous mill-pond, and went, after
he had disembowelled the roe, to the water, in order to wash
his blood-stained hands.  Scarcely, however, had he dipped
them in than the nixie ascended, smilingly wound her dripping
arms around him, and drew him quickly down under the waves,
which closed over him.  When it was evening, and the huntsman
did not return home, his wife became alarmed.  She went out to
seek him, and as he had often told her that he had to be on
his guard against the snares of the nixie, and dared not venture
into the neighborhood of the mill-pond, she already suspected
what had happened.  She hastened to the water, and
when she found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she could
no longer have any doubt of the misfortune.  Lamenting her
sorrow, and wringing her hands, she called on her beloved
by name, but in vain.  She hurried across to the other side
of the pond, and called him anew.  She reviled the nixie with
harsh words, but no answer greeted her.  The surface of the water
remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at
her.  The poor woman did not leave the pond.  With hasty steps,
she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, sometimes
in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes sobbing
softly.  At last her strength came to an end, she sank down
to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep.  Presently a dream
took possession of her.
She was anxiously climbing upwards between great masses of
rock.  Thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her
face, and the wind tossed her long hair about.  When she had
reached the summit, quite a different sight presented itself
to her.  The sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped
gently downwards, and on a green meadow, gay with flowers of
every color, stood a pretty cottage.  She went up to it and
opened the door.  There sat an old woman
with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly.  At that very
moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned, and she
at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream.  She
laboriously climbed the mountain.  Everything was exactly as she
had seen it in the night.  The old woman received her kindly,
and pointed out a chair on which she might sit.  You must have
met with a misfortune, she said, since you have sought out my
lonely cottage.  With tears, the woman related what had befallen
her.  Be comforted, said the old woman, I will help you.  Here
is a golden comb for you.  Tarry till the full moon has risen,
then go to the mill-pond, seat yourself on the shore, and
comb your long black hair with this comb.  When you have done,
lay it down on the bank, and you will see what will happen.  The
woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, passed
slowly.  When at last the shining disc appeared in the heavens,
she went out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black
hair with the golden comb, and when she had finished, she laid
it down at the water's edge.  It was not long before there
was a movement in the depths, a wave rose, rolled to the shore,
and bore the comb away with it.  In not more than the time
necessary for the comb to sink to the bottom, the surface of
the water parted, and the head of the huntsman arose.  He did
not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful glances.
At the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered
the man's head.  All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as
before, and nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it.
Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed
her the cottage of the old woman.  Next morning she again set
out and complained of her woes to the wise woman.  The old
woman gave her a golden flute, and said, tarry till the full
moon comes again, then take this flute.  Play a beautiful air
on it, and when you have finished, lay it on the sand.  Then
you will see what will happen.  The wife did as the old woman
told her.  No sooner was the flute lying on the sand than there
was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed up and bore
the flute away with it.  Immediately afterwards the water
parted, and not only the head of the man, but
half of his body also arose.  He stretched out his arms
longingly towards her, but a second wave came up, covered him,
and drew him down again.  Alas, what does it help me, said the
unhappy woman, that I should see my beloved, only to lose him
again.  Despair filled her heart anew, but the dream led her
a third time to the house of the old woman.  She set out, and
the wise woman gave her a golden spinning-wheel, consoled her and
said, all is not yet fulfilled, tarry until the time of the full
moon, then take the spinning-wheel, seat yourself on the shore,
and spin the spool full, and when you have done that, place the
spinning-wheel near the water, and you will see what will happen.
The woman obeyed all she said exactly.  As soon as the full moon
showed itself, she carried the golden spinning-wheel to the
shore, and span industriously until the flax came to an end, and
the spool was quite filled with the threads.  No sooner was the
wheel standing on the shore than there was a more violent movement
than before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty wave rushed
up, and bore the wheel away with it.  Immediately the head and
the whole body of the man rose into the air, in a water-spout.
He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by the hand and
fled.  But they had scarcely gone a very little distance,
when the whole pond rose with a frightful roar, and streamed
out over the open country.  The fugitives already saw death
before their eyes, when the woman in her terror implored the
help of the old woman, and in an instant they were transformed,
she into a toad, he into a frog.  The flood which had overtaken
them could not destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried
them far away.
When the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again,
they regained their human form, but neither knew where the other
was.  They found themselves among strange people, who did not
know their native land.  High mountains and deep valleys lay
between them.  In order to keep themselves alive, they were
both obliged to tend sheep.  For many long years they drove
their flocks through field and forest and were full of sorrow
and longing.
When spring had once more broken forth on the earth, they both
went out one day with their flocks, and as chance would have it,
they drew near each other.  They met in a valley, but did not
recognize each other.  Yet they rejoiced that they were no
longer so lonely.  Henceforth they each day drove their flocks
to the same place.  They did not speak much, but they felt
comforted.  One evening when the full moon was shining in the
sky, and the sheep were already at rest, the shepherd pulled
the flute out of his pocket, and played on it a beautiful but
sorrowful air.  When he had finished he saw that the shepherdess
was weeping bitterly.  Why are you weeping, he asked.  Alas,
answered she, thus shone the full moon when I played this air
on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved
rose out of the water.  He looked at her, and it seemed as if a
veil fell from his eyes, and he recognized his dear wife, and
when she looked at him, and the moon shone in his face she
knew him also.  They embraced and kissed each other, and no one
need ask if they were happy.
There was once a poor shepherd-boy whose father and mother
were dead, and he was placed by the authorities in the house
of a rich man, who was to feed him and bring him up.  The man and
his wife, however, had bad hearts, and were greedy and jealous of
their riches, and vexed whenever anyone put a morsel of their
bread in his mouth.  The poor young fellow might do what he
liked, he got little to eat, but only so many blows the more.
One day he had to watch a hen and her chickens, but she escaped
through a hedge with them, and a hawk darted down instantly,
and carried her off through the air.  The boy called, thief,
thief, rascal, with all the strength of his body.  But what good
did that do.  The hawk did not bring its prey back again.  The
man heard the noise, and ran to the spot, and as soon as he
saw that his hen was gone, he fell in a rage, and gave the boy
such a beating that he could not stir for two days.  Then he
had to take care of the chickens without the hen, but now his
difficulty was greater, for one ran here and the other there.
He thought he was doing a very wise thing when he tied them
all together with a string, because then the hawk would not
be able to steal any of them away from him.  But he was very
much mistaken.  After two days, worn out with running about and
hunger, he fell asleep.  The bird of prey came, and seized one
of the chickens, and as the others were tied fast to it, it
carried them all off together, perched itself on a tree, and
devoured them.  The farmer was just coming home, and when he saw
the misfortune, he got angry and beat the boy so unmercifully
that he was forced to lie in bed for several days.
When he was on his legs again, the farmer said to him, you are
too stupid for me, I cannot make a herdsman of you, you must
go as errand-boy.  Then he sent him to the judge, to whom he
was to carry a basketful of grapes, and he gave him a letter as
well.  On the way hunger and thirst tormented the unhappy boy
so violently that he ate two grapes.  He took the basket to the
judge, but when the judge had read the letter, and counted the
grapes he said, two are missing.  The boy confessed quite honestly
that, driven by hunger and thirst, he had devoured the two which
were missing.  The judge wrote a letter to the farmer, and asked
for the same number of grapes again.  These also the boy had
to take to him with a letter.  As he again was so extremely
hungry and thirsty, he could not help it, and again ate two grapes.
But first he took the letter out of the basket, put it under a
stone and seated himself thereon in order that the letter might
not see and betray him.  The judge, however, again made him give
an explanation about the missing grapes.  Ah, said the boy,
how have you learnt that.  The letter could not know about it,
for I put it under a stone before I did it.  The judge could
not help laughing at the boy's simplicity, and sent the man a
letter wherein he cautioned him to look after the poor boy better,
and not let him want for meat and drink, and also that he was to
teach him what was right and what was wrong.
I will soon show you the difference, said the hard man, if
you will eat, you must work, and if you do anything wrong, you
shall be quite sufficiently taught by blows.
The next day he set him a hard task.  He was to chop two bundles
of hay for food for the horses, and then the man threatened, in
five hours, said he, I shall be back again, and if the hay
is not chopped by that time, I will beat you until you can not
move a limb.  The
farmer went with his wife, the man-servant and the girl, to the
yearly fair, and left nothing behind for the boy but a small bit
of bread.  The boy seated himself on the bench, and began to
work with all his might.  As he got warm over it he put his little
coat off and threw it on the hay.  In his terror lest he should
not get done in time he kept constantly cutting, and in his
haste, without noticing it, he chopped his little coat as well as
the hay.  He became aware of the misfortune too late.  There was
no repairing it.  Ah, cried he, now all is over with me.  The
wicked man did not threaten me for nothing.  If he comes back
and sees what I have done, he will kill me.  Rather than that I
will take my own life.
The boy had once heard the farmer's wife say, I have a pot
with poison in it under my bed.  She, however, had only said
that to keep away greedy people, for there was honey in it.
The boy crept under the bed, brought out the pot, and ate all
that was in it.  I do not know, said he, folks say death is
bitter, but it tastes very sweet to me.  It is no wonder
that the farmer's wife has so often longed for death.  He seated
himself in a little chair, and was prepared to die.  But instead
of becoming weaker he felt himself strengthened by the nourishing
food.  It cannot have been poison, thought he, but the
farmer once said there was a small bottle of poison for flies in
the closet in which he keeps his clothes.  That, no doubt, will
be the true poison, and bring death to me.  It was, however, no
poison for flies, but hungarian wine.  The boy got out the bottle,
and emptied it.  This death tastes sweet too, said he, but shortly
after when the wine began to mount into his brain and stupefy
him, he thought his end was drawing near.  I feel that I must die,
said he, I will go away to the churchyard, and seek a grave.  He
staggered out, reached the churchyard, and laid himself in a newly
dug grave.  He lost his senses more and more.  In the neighborhood
was an inn where a wedding was being held.  When he heard the
music, he fancied he was already in paradise, until at length
he lost all consciousness.  The poor boy never awoke again.  The
heat of the strong wine and the cold night-dew deprived him of
life, and he remained in the grave in which he had laid himself.
When the farmer heard the news of the boy's death he was terrified,
and afraid of being brought to justice - indeed, his distress took
such a powerful hold of him that he fell fainting to the ground.
His wife, who was standing by the hearth with a pan of hot fat,
ran to him to help him.  But the flames enveloped the pan, the
whole house caught fire, in a few hours it lay in ashes, and
the rest of the years they had to live they passed in poverty
and misery, tormented by the pangs of conscience.
There was once upon a time a girl who was young and beautiful, but
she had lost her mother when she was quite a child, and her
step-mother did all she could to make the girl's life wretched.
Whenever this woman gave her anything to do, she worked at it
indefatigably, and did everything that lay in her
power.  Still she could not touch the heart of the wicked woman,
she was never satisfied, it was never enough.  The harder the girl
worked, the more work was put upon her, and all that the woman
thought of was how to weigh her down with still heavier burdens,
and make her life still more miserable.
One day she said to her, here are twelve pounds of feathers which
you must pick, and if they are not done this evening, you may
expect a good beating.  Do you imagine you are to idle away the
whole day.  The poor girl sat down to the work, but tears ran
down her cheeks as she did so, for she saw plainly enough that it
was quite impossible to finish the work in one day.  Whenever she
had a little heap of feathers lying before her, and she sighed or
smote her hands together in her anguish, they flew away, and she
had to pick them up again, and begin her work anew. Then she put
her elbows on the table, laid her face in her two hands, and cried,
is there no one, then, on God's earth to have pity on me.  Then
she heard a low voice which said, be comforted, my child, I have
come to help you.  The maiden looked up, and an old woman was by
her side.  She took the girl kindly by the hand, and said, only
tell me what is troubling you.  As she spoke so kindly, the girl
told her of her miserable life, and how one burden after another
was laid upon her, and she never could get to the end of the work
which was given to her.  If I have not done these feathers by this
evening, my step-mother will beat me, she has threatened she will,
and I know she keeps her word.  Her tears began to flow again, but
the good old woman said, do not be afraid, my child, rest a while,
and in the meantime I will look to your work.  The girl lay
down on her bed, and soon fell asleep.  The old woman seated
herself at the table with the feathers, and how they did fly off
the quills, which she scarcely touched with her withered hands.
The twelve pounds were soon finished, and when the girl awoke,
great snow-white heaps were lying, piled up, and everything in
the room was neatly cleared away, but the old woman had
vanished.  The maiden thanked God, and sat still till evening
came, when the step-mother came in and marveled to see the work
completed.  Just look, you
awkward creature, said she, what can be done when people are
industrious, and why could you not set about something else.
There you sit with your hands crossed.  When she went out she
said, the creature is worth more than her salt.  I must give her
some work that is still harder.
Next morning she called the girl, and said there is a spoon for
you.  With that you must empty out the great pond which is
beside the garden, and if it is not done by night, you know what
will happen.  The girl took the spoon, and saw that it was full
of holes, but even if it had not been, she never could have
emptied the pond with it.  She set to work at once, knelt down
by the water, into which her tears were falling, and began to
empty it.  But the good old woman appeared again, and when she
learnt the cause of her grief, she said, be of good cheer, my
child.  Go into the thicket and lie down and sleep, I will soon
do your work.  As soon as the old woman was alone, she barely
touched the pond, and a vapor rose up on high from the water, and
mingled itself with the clouds.  Gradually the pond was emptied,
and when the maiden awoke before sunset and came thither, she saw
nothing but the fishes which were struggling in the mud.  She
went to her step-mother, and showed her that the work was done.
It ought to have been done long before this, said she, and grew
white with anger, but she meditated something new.
On the third morning she said to the girl, you must build me a
castle on the plain there, and it must be ready by the
evening.  The maiden was dismayed, and said, how can I complete
such a great work.  I will endure no opposition, screamed the
step-mother.  If you can empty a pond with a spoon that is full of
holes, you can build a castle too.  I will take possession of
it this very day, and if anything is wanting, even if it be the
most trifling thing in the kitchen or cellar, you know what lies
before you.  She drove the girl out, and when she entered the
valley, the rocks were there, piled up one above the other, and
all her strength would not have enabled her even to move the very
smallest of them.  She sat down and wept, and still she hoped the
old woman would help her.  The old woman was not long in coming,
she comforted her and said, lie down
there in the shade and sleep, and I will soon build the castle for
you.  If it would be a pleasure to you, you can live in it
yourself.  When the maiden had gone away, the old woman touched the
gray rocks.  They began to rise, moved together and stood there as
if giants had built the walls, and on these the building arose
and it seemed as if countless hands were working invisibly, and
placing one stone upon another.  There was a dull heavy noise from
the ground, pillars arose of their own accord on high, and
placed themselves in order near each other.  The tiles laid
themselves in order on the roof, and when noon-day came, the
great weather-cock was already turning itself on the summit of the
tower, like a golden maid with fluttering garments.  The inside
of the castle was being finished while evening was drawing near.
How the old woman managed it, I know not, but the walls of the
rooms were hung with silk and velvet, embroidered chairs were
there, and richly ornamented arm-chairs by marble tables,
crystal chandeliers hung down from the ceilings, and mirrored
themselves in the smooth floor, green parrots were there in gilt
cages, and so were strange birds which sang most beautifully, and
there was on all sides as much magnificence as if a king were
going to live there.  The sun was just setting when the girl
awoke, and the brightness of a thousand lights flashed in her
face.  She hurried to the castle, and entered by the open door.
The steps were spread with red cloth, and the golden
balustrade beset with flowering trees.  When she saw the
splendor of the rooms, she stood as if turned to stone.  Who
knows how long she might have stood there if she had not
remembered the step-mother.  Alas, she said to herself, if she
could but be satisfied at last, and would give up making my life
a misery to me.  The girl went and told her that the castle was
ready.  I will move into it at once, said she, and rose from her
seat.  When they entered the castle, she was forced to hold her
hand before her eyes, the brilliancy of everything was so
dazzling.  You see, said she to the girl, how easy it has been
for you to do this, I ought to have given you something harder.
She went through all the rooms, and examined every corner to
see if anything was wanting or defective, but she could
discover nothing.  Now we will go down below, said she, looking
at the girl with malicious eyes.  The kitchen and the cellar
still have to be examined and if you have forgotten anything you
shall not escape your punishment.  But the fire was burning on
the hearth, and the meat was cooking in the pans, the tongs and
shovel were leaning against the wall, and the shining brazen
utensils all arranged in sight.  Nothing was missing, not even
a coal-box and a water-pail.  Which is the way to the cellar,
she cried.  If that is not abundantly filled with wine casks
it shall go ill with you.  She herself raised up the trap-door
and descended, but she had hardly made two steps before the
heavy trap-door which was only laid back, fell down.  The girl
heard a scream, lifted up the door very quickly to go to her
aid, but she had fallen down, and the girl found her lying
lifeless at the bottom.
And now the magnificent castle belonged to the girl alone.  She
at first did not know how to reconcile herself to her good
fortune.  Beautiful dresses were hanging in the wardrobes, the
chests were filled with gold and silver, or with pearls and
jewels, and she never felt a desire that she was not able to
gratify.  And soon the fame of the beauty and riches of the
maiden went over all the world.  Wooers presented themselves
daily but none pleased her.  At length the son of the king came
and he knew how to touch her heart, and she betrothed herself
to him.  In the garden of the castle was a lime-tree, under
which they were one day sitting together, when he said to her,
I will go home and obtain my father's consent to our marriage.
I entreat you to wait for me under this lime-tree, I shall be
back with you in a few hours.  The maiden kissed him on his
left cheek, and said, keep true to me, and never let any one else
kiss you on this cheek.  I will wait here under the lime-tree
until you return.
The maid stayed beneath the lime-tree until sunset, but he did
not return.  She sat three days from morning till evening,
waiting for him, but in vain.  As he still was not there by the
fourth day, she said, some accident has assuredly befallen him.
I will go out and seek him, and will not come back until I have
found him.
She packed up three of her most beautiful dresses, one embroidered
with bright stars, the second with silver moons, the third with
golden suns, tied up a handful of jewels in her handkerchief,
and set out.  She inquired everywhere for her betrothed, but no
one had seen him, no one knew anything about him.  Far and wide
did she wander through the world, but she found him not.  At
last she hired herself to a farmer as a cowherd, and buried her
dresses and jewels beneath a stone.
And now she lived as a herdswoman, guarded her herd, and was
very sad and full of longing for her beloved.  She had a little
calf which she taught to know her, and fed it out of her own
hand, and when she said,
     little calf, little calf, kneel by my side,
     and do not forget your cowherd-maid,
     as the prince forgot his betrothed bride,
     who waited for him 'neath the lime-tree's shade.
The little calf knelt down, and she stroked it.
And when she had lived for a couple of years alone and full of
grief, a report was spread over all the land that the king's
daughter was about to celebrate her marriage.  The road to the
town passed through the village where the maiden was living, and
it came to pass that once when the maiden was driving out her
herd, the bridegroom traveled by.  He was sitting proudly on his
horse, and never looked round, but when she saw him she recognized
her beloved, and it was just as if a sharp knife had pierced her
heart.  Alas, said she, I believed him true to me, but he has
forgotten me.
Next day he again came along the road.  When he was near her
she said to the little calf,
     little calf, little calf, kneel by my side,
     and do not forget your cowherd-maid,
     as the prince forgot his betrothed bride,
     who waited for him 'neath the lime-tree's shade.
When he was aware of the voice, he looked down and reined in
his horse.  He looked into the girl's face and then put his hands
before his eyes as if he were trying to remember something, but he
soon rode onwards and was out of sight.  Alas, said she, he no
longer knows me.  And her grief was ever greater.
Soon after this a great festival three days long was to be held at
the king's court, and the whole country was invited to it.
Now will I try my last chance, thought the maiden, and when
evening came she went to the stone under which she had buried her
treasures.  She took out the dress with the golden suns, put it on,
and adorned herself with the jewels.  She let down her hair, which
she had concealed under a handkerchief, and it fell down in long
curls about her, and thus she went into the town, and in the
darkness was observed by no one.  When she entered the brightly
lighted hall, every one started back in amazement, but no one knew
who she was.  The king's son went to meet her, but he did not
recognize her.  He led her out to dance, and was so enchanted with
her beauty, that he thought no more of the other bride.  When the
feast was over, she vanished in the crowd, and hastened before
daybreak to the village, where she once more put on her herd's
dress.
Next evening she took out the dress with the silver moons, and
put a half-moon made of precious stones in her hair.  When she
appeared at the festival, all eyes were turned upon her, but the
king's son hastened to meet her, and filled with love for her,
danced with her alone, and no longer so much as glanced at anyone
else.  Before she went away she was forced to promise him to
come again to the festival on the last evening.
When she appeared for the third time, she wore the star-dress
which sparkled at every step she took, and her hair-ribbon and
girdle were starred with jewels.  The prince had already been
waiting for her for a long time, and forced his way up to her.
Do but tell who you are, said he, I feel just as if I had already
known you a long time.  Do you not know what I did when you left
me.  Then she stepped up to him, and kissed him on his left cheek,
and in a moment it was as if scales fell from his eyes, and he
recognized the true bride.  Come, said he to her, here I stay no
longer, gave her his hamd, and led her down to the carriage.  The
horses hurried
away to the magic castle as if the wind had been harnessed to the
carriage.  The illuminated windows already shone in the distance.
When they drove past the lime-tree, countless glow-worms were
swarming about it.  It shook its branches, and sent forth their
fragrance.  On the steps flowers were blooming, and the room
echoed with the song of strange birds, but in the hall the entire
court was assembled, and the priest was waiting to marry the
bridegroom and the true bride.
There was once a girl whose father and mother died while
she was still a little child.  All alone, in a small house at the
end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself
by spinning, weaving, and sewing.  The old woman took the
forlorn child to live with her, kept her to her work, and educated
her in all that is good.  When the girl was fifteen years old,
the old woman became ill, called the child to her bedside,
and said, dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near.  I leave you
the little house, which will protect you from wind and weather, and
my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your
bread.  Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her,
and said, only preserve the love of God in your heart, and all will
go well with you.  Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was
laid in the earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping
bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect.
And now the maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and
was industrious, and spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the
good old woman was on all that she did.  It seemed as if the flax
in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a
piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found
a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of
nothing, and even had something to share with others.
About this time, the son of the king was traveling about the
country looking for a bride.  He was not to choose a poor one, and
did not want to have a rich one.  So he said, she shall be my wife
who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest.  When he came
to the village where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did
wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest girl in
the place.  They first named the richest.  The poorest, they said,
was the girl who lived in the small house quite at the end of the
village.  The rich girl was sitting in all her splendor before the
door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up,
went to meet him, and made him a low curtsy.  He looked at her,
said nothing, and rode on.  When he came to the house of the poor
girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little
room.  He stopped his horse, and saw through the window, on which
the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her spinning-wheel,
busily spinning.  She looked up, and when she saw that the prince
was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall,
and went on spinning.  I do not know whether, just at that
moment, the thread was quite even, but she went on spinning until
the king's son had ridden away again.  Then she went to the
window, opened it, and said, it is so warm in this room, and she
looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white
feathers in his hat.  Then she sat down to work again in her room
and went on with her spinning, and a saying which the old woman
had often repeated when she was
sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these
words to herself,
     spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away,
     and here to my house bring the wooer, I pray.
And what do you think happened.  The spindle sprang out of her
hand in an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her
astonishment, she got up and looked after it, she saw that it was
dancing out merrily into the open country, and drawing a shining
gold thread after it.  Before long, it had entirely vanished from
her sight.  As she had now no spindle, the girl took the weaver's
shuttle in her hand, sat down to her loom, and began to weave.
The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as
the thread came to an end, reached the prince.  What do I see, he
cried, the spindle certainly wants to show me the way, turned
his horse about, and rode back with the golden thread.  The girl
however, was sitting at her work singing,
     shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day,
     and guide the wooer to me, I pray.
Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door.
Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which
was more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld.
Lilies and roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden
ground in the center green branches ascended, under which bounded
hares and rabbits, stags and deer stretched their heads in
between them, brightly-colored birds were sitting in the branches
above, they lacked nothing but the gift of song.  The shuttle
leapt hither and thither, and everything seemed to grow of
its own accord.
As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew.  She held
the needle in her hand and sang,
     needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine,
     prepare for the wooer this house of mine.
Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere
about the room as quick as lightning.  It was just as if
invisible spirits were working, it covered tables and benches
with green cloth in an instant,
and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken
curtains.  Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the
maiden saw through the window the white feathers of the prince,
whom the spindle had brought thither by the golden thread.  He
alighted, stepped over the carpet into the house, and when he
entered the room, there stood the maiden in her poor garments, but
she shone out from within them like a rose surrounded by leaves.
You are the poorest and also the richest, said he to her.  Come
with me, you shall be my bride.  She did not speak, but she gave
him her hand.  Then he gave her a kiss, led her forth, lifted her
on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the
wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings.  The spindle,
shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber,
and held in great honor.
There was once upon a time a princess, who, high under the
battlements in her castle, had an apartment with twelve windows,
which looked out in every possible direction, and when she climbed
up to it and looked around her, she could inspect her whole kingdom.
When she looked out of the first, her sight was more keen than that
of any other human being, from the second she could see still
better, from the third more distinctly still, and so it went on,
until the twelfth, from which she saw everything above the earth
and under the earth, and nothing at all could be
kept secret from her.  Moreover, as she was haughty, and would be
subject to no one, but wished to keep the dominion for herself
alone, she caused it to be proclaimed that no one should ever be
her husband who could not conceal himself from her so effectively,
that it should be quite impossible for her to find him.  He who
tried this, however, and was discovered by her, was to have his
head struck off, and stuck on a post.  Ninety-seven posts with the
heads of dead men were already standing before the castle, and no
one had come forward for a long time.  The princess was delighted,
and thought to herself, now I shall be free as long as I live.
Then three brothers appeared before her, and announced to her
that they were desirous of trying their luck.  The eldest believed
he would be quite safe if he crept into a lime-pit, but she saw
him from the first window, made him come out, and had his head
cut off.  The second crept into the cellar of the palace, but she
perceived him also from the first window, and his fate was sealed.
His head was placed on the nine and ninetieth post.  Then the
youngest came to her and entreated her to give him a day for
consideration, and also to be so gracious as to overlook it if she
should happen to discover him twice, but if he failed the third
time, he would look on his life as over.  As he was so handsome,
and begged so earnestly, she said, yes, I will grant you that, but
you will not succeed.
Next day he meditated for a long time how he should hide
himself, but all in vain.  Then he seized his gun and went out
hunting.  He saw a raven, took a good aim at him, and was just
going to fire, when the bird cried, don't shoot, I will reward
you.  He put his gun down, went on, and came to a lake where he
surprised a large fish which had come up from the depths below
to the surface of the water.  When he had aimed at it, the fish
cried, don't shoot, and I will reward you.  He allowed it to dive
down again, went onwards, and met a fox which was lame.  He
fired and missed it, and the fox cried, you had much better come
here and draw the thorn out of my foot for me.  He did this, but
when he wanted to kill the fox and skin it, the fox said, stop,
and I will reward you.  The youth let him go, and then as it
was evening, returned home.
Next day he was to hide himself, but no matter how he puzzled
his brains over it, he did not know where.  He went into the
forest to the raven and said, I let you live on, so now tell me
where I am to hide myself, so that the king's daughter will not
see me.  The raven hung his head and thought it over for a long
time.  At length he croaked, I have it.  He fetched an egg out of
his nest, cut it into two parts, and shut the youth inside it,
then made it whole again, and seated himself on it.  When the
king's daughter went to the first window she could not discover
him, nor could she from the others, and she began to be uneasy,
but from the eleventh she saw him.  She ordered the raven to be
shot, and the egg to be brought and broken, and the youth was
forced to come out.  She said, for once you are excused, but if
you do not better than this, you are lost.  Next day he went to
the lake, called the fish to him and said, I suffered you to live,
now tell me where to hide myself so that the king's daughter
may not see me.  The fish thought for a while, and at last
cried, I have it, I will shut you up in my stomach.  He
swallowed him, and went down to the bottom of the lake.  The
king's daughter looked through her windows, and even from the
eleventh did not see him, and was alarmed, but at length from
the twelfth she saw him.  She ordered the fish to be caught and
killed, and then the youth appeared.  It is easy to imagine the
state of mind he was in.  She said, twice you are forgiven, but
be sure that your head will be set on the hundredth post.
On the last day, he went with a heavy heart into the country, and
met the fox.  You know how to find all kinds of hiding-places,
said he, I let you live, now advise me where I shall hide myself
so that
the king's daughter shall not discover me.  That's a hard task,
answered the fox, looking very thoughtful.  At length he cried,
I have it, and went with him to a spring, dipped himself in it,
and came out as a stall-keeper in the market, and dealer in
animals.  The youth had to dip himself in the water also, and
was changed into a small sea-hare.  The merchant went into the
town, and showed the pretty little animal, and many persons
gathered together to see it.  At length the king's daughter
came likewise, and as she liked it very much, she bought it,
and gave the merchant a good deal of money for it.  Before he
gave it over to her, he said to it, when the king's daughter goes
to the window, creep quickly under the braids of her her hair.
And now the time arrived when she was to search for him.  She
went to one window after another in turn, from the first to the
eleventh, and did not see him.  When she did not see him from the
twelfth either, she was full of anxiety and anger, and shut it
down with such violence that the glass in every window shivered
into a thousand pieces, and the whole castle shook.
She went back and felt the sea-hare beneath the braids of her
hair.  Then she seized it, and threw it on the ground exclaiming,
away with you, get out of my sight.  It ran to the merchant, and
both of them hurried to the spring, wherein they plunged, and
received back their true forms.  The youth thanked the fox, and
said, the raven and the fish are idiots compared with you, you
know the right tune to play, there is no denying that.
The youth went straight to the palace.  The princess was already
expecting him, and abandoned herself to her fate.  The wedding
was solemnized, and now he was king, and lord of all the kingdom.
He never told her where he had concealed himself for the third
time, and who had helped him, so she believed that he had done
everything by his own skill, and she had a great respect for him,
for she thought to herself, he is able to do more than I.
One day an old man and his wife were sitting in front of a
miserable house resting a while from their work.  Suddenly
a splendid carriage with four black horses came driving up,
and a richly-dressed man descended from it.  The peasant stood
up, went to the great man, and asked what he wanted, and in what
way he could serve him.  The stranger stretched out his hand to
the old man, and said, I want nothing but to enjoy for once a
country dish, cook me some potatoes, in the way you always have
them, and then I will sit down at your table and eat them with
pleasure.  The peasant smiled and said, you are a count or a
prince, or perhaps even a duke, noble gentlemen often have such
fancies, but you shall have your wish.  The wife then went into
the kitchen and began to wash and rub the potatoes, and to make
them into balls, as they are eaten by the country-folks.  Whilst
she was busy with this work, the peasant said to the stranger,
come into my garden with me for a while, I have still something
to do there.  He had dug some holes in the garden, and now
wanted to plant trees in them.  Have you no children, asked the
stranger, who could help you with your work.  No, answered the
peasant, I had a son, it is true, but it is long since he went
out into the world.  He was a ne'er-do-well, clever and knowing,
but he would learn nothing and was full of bad tricks.  At last
he ran away from me, and since then I have heard nothing of him.
The old man took a young tree, put it in a hole, drove in a post
beside it, and when he had shovelled in some earth and had
trampled it firmly down, he tied the stem of the tree above,
below, and in the middle, fast to the post by a rope of straw.
But tell me,
said the stranger, why you don't tie that crooked knotted tree,
which is lying in the corner there, bent down almost to the ground,
to a post also that it may grow straight, as well as these.  The
old man smiled and said, sir, you speak according to your knowledge,
it is easy to see that you are not familiar with gardening.  That
tree there is old, and mis-shapen, no one can make it straight now.
Trees must be trained while they are young.  That is how it was
with your son, said the stranger, if you had trained him while
he was still young, he would not have run away.  Now he too must
have grown hard and mis-shapen.  Truly it is a long time since he
went away, replied the old man, he must have changed.  Would you
know him again if he were to come to you, asked the stranger.
Hardly by his face, replied the peasant, but he has a mark about
him, a birth-mark on his shoulder, that looks like a bean.  When
he had said that the stranger pulled off his coat, bared his
shoulder, and showed the peasant the bean.  Good God, cried the
old man, you are really my son, and love for his child stirred
in his heart.  But, he added, how can you be my son, you have
become a great lord and live in wealth and luxury.  How have you
contrived to do that.  Ah, father, answered the son, the young
tree was bound to no post and has grown crooked.  Now it is too
old, it will never be straight again.  How have I come by all this.
I have become a thief, but do not be alarmed, I am a master-thief.
For me there are neither locks nor bolts, whatsoever I desire is
mine.  Do not imagine that I steal like a common thief, I only
take some of the superfluity of the rich.  Poor people are safe,
I would rather give to them than take anything from them.  It is
the same with anything which I can have without trouble, cunning,
and dexterity - I never touch it.  Alas, my son, said the father,
it still does not please me, a thief is still a thief, I tell you
it will end badly.  He took him to his mother, and when she heard
that was her son, she wept for joy, but when he told her that he
had become a master-thief, two streams flowed down over her
face.  At length she said, even if he has become a thief, he is
still my son, and my eyes have beheld him once more.
They sat down to table, and once again he ate with his parents
the wretched food which he had not eaten for so long.  The father
said, if our lord, the count up there in the castle, learns who
you are, and what trade you follow, he will not take you in his
arms and cradle you in them as he did when he held you at the font,
but will cause you to swing from a halter.  Be easy, father, he
will do me no harm, for I understand my trade.  I will go to him
myself this very day.  When evening drew near, the master-thief
seated himself in his carriage, and drove to the castle.  The
count received him civilly, for he took him for a distinguished
man.  When, however, the stranger made himself known, the count
turned pale and was quite silent for some time.  At length he
said, you are my godson, and on that account mercy shall take
the place of justice, and I will deal leniently with you.  Since
you pride yourself on being a master-thief, I will put your art
to the proof, but if you do not stand the test, you must marry
the rope-maker's daughter, and the croaking of the raven must be
your music on the occasion.  Lord count, answered the
master-thief, think of three things, as difficult as you like,
and if I do not perform your tasks, do with me what you will.
The count reflected for some minutes, and then said, well, then,
in the first place, you shall steal the horse I keep for my own
riding, out of the stable.  In the next, you shall steal the
sheet from beneath the bodies of my wife and myself when we are
asleep, without our observing it, and the wedding-ring of my wife
as well.  Thirdly and lastly, you shall steal away out of the
church, the parson and clerk.  Mark what I am saying, for
your life depends on it.
The master-thief went to the nearest town, there he bought the
clothes of an old peasant woman, and put them on.  Then he stained
his face brown, and painted wrinkles on it as well, so that no one
could have recognized him.  Then he filled a small cask with old
hungary wine in which was mixed a powerful sleeping-drink.  He
put the cask in a basket, which he took on his back, and walked
with slow and tottering steps to the count's castle.  It was
already dark when he arrived.  He sat down on a stone in the
court-yard and began to cough, like an asthmatic old woman, and to
rub his hands as if he were cold.  In front of the door of the
stable some soldiers were
lying round a fire, one of them observed the woman, and called out
to her, come nearer, old mother, and warm yourself beside us.
After all, you have no bed for the night, and must take one where
you can find it.  The old woman tottered up to them, begged them
to lift the basket from her back, and sat down beside them at the
fire.  What have you got in your little cask, old hag, asked one.
A good mouthful of wine, she answered.  I live by trade, for
money and fair words I am quite ready to let you have a glass.
Let us have it here, then, said the soldier, and when he had
tasted one glass he said, when wine is good, I like another glass,
and had another poured out for himself, and the rest followed his
example.  Hallo, comrades, cried one of them to those who were in
the stable, here is an old girl who has wine that is as old as
herself, take a draught, it will warm your stomachs far better
than our fire.  The old woman carried her cask into the stable.
One of the soldiers had seated himself on the saddled riding-horse,
another held its bridle in his hand, a third had laid hold of
its tail.  She poured out as much as they wanted until the spring
ran dry.  It was not long before the bridle fell from the hand of
the one, and he fell down and began to snore, the other left hold
of the tail, lay down and snored still louder.  The one who was
sitting in the saddle, did remain sitting, but bent his head down
almost to the horse's neck, and slept and blew with his mouth like
the bellows of a forge.  The soldiers outside had already been
asleep for a long time, and were lying on the ground motionless,
as if dead.  When the master-thief saw that he had succeeded, he
gave the first a rope in his hand instead of the bridle, and the
other who had been holding the tail, a wisp of straw, but what was
he to do with the one who was sitting on the horse's back.  He
did not want to throw him down, for he might have awakened and
have uttered a cry.  He had a good idea, he unbuckled the girths
of the saddle, tied a couple of ropes which were hanging to a ring
on the wall fast to the saddle, and drew the sleeping rider up
into the air on it, then he twisted the rope round the posts, and
made it fast.  He soon unloosed the horse from the chain, but if
he had ridden over the stony pavement of the yard they would have
heard the noise in the castle.  So he wrapped the horse's hoofs in
old rags, led him carefully out, leapt upon him, and
galloped off.
When day broke, the master galloped to the castle on the stolen
horse.  The count had just got up, and was looking out of the
window.  Good morning, sir count, he cried to him, here is the
horse, which I have got safely out of the stable.  Just look, how
beautifully your soldiers are lying there sleeping, and if you will
but go into the stable, you will see how comfortable your
watchers have made it for themselves.  The count could not help
laughing.  Then he said, for once you have succeeded, but things
won't go so well the second time, and I warn you that if you come
before me as a thief, I will handle you as I would a thief.
When the countess went to bed that night, she closed her hand
with the wedding-ring tightly together, and the count said, all
the doors are locked and bolted, I will keep awake and wait for
the thief, but if he gets in by the window, I will shoot him.
The master-thief, however, went in the dark to the gallows, cut a
poor sinner who was hanging there down from the halter, and
carried him on his back to the castle.  Then he set a ladder up
to the bedroom, put the dead body on his shoulders, and began to
climb up.  When he had got so high that the head of the dead man
showed at the window, the count, who was watching in his bed,
fired a pistol at him, and immediately the master let the poor
sinner fall down, descended the ladder, and hid himself in one
corner.  The night was sufficiently lighted by the moon, for the
master to see distinctly how the count got out of the window on to
the ladder, came down, carried the dead body into the garden, and
began to dig a hole in which to lay it.  Now, thought the thief,
the favorable moment has come, stole nimbly out of his corner, and
climbed up the ladder straight into the countess's bedroom.  Dear
wife, he began in the count's voice, the thief is dead, but, after
all, he is my godson, and has been more of a scape-grace than a
villain.  I will not put him to open shame, besides, I am sorry
for the parents.  I will bury him myself before daybreak in the
garden, that the thing may not be known.  So give me the sheet,
I will wrap up the body in it, and not bury him like a dog.  The
countess gave him the sheet.  I tell you what, continued the
thief, I have a fit of magnanimity, give me the ring too, - the
unhappy man risked his life for it, so he may take it with him
into his grave.  She would not gainsay the count, and although
she did it unwillingly she drew the ring from her finger, and
gave it to him.  The thief made off with both these things, and
reached home safely before the count in the garden had finished
his work of burying.
What a long face the count did pull when the master came next
morning, and brought him the sheet and the ring.  Are you a
wizard, said he, who has fetched you out of the grave in which
I myself laid you, and brought you to life again.  You did not
bury me, said the thief, but the poor sinner on the gallows,
and he told him exactly how everything had happened, and the count
was forced to own to him that he was a clever, crafty thief.
But you have not reached the end yet, he added, you have still to
perform the third task, and if you do not succeed in that, all is
of no use.  The master smiled and returned no answer.
When night had fallen he went with a long sack on his back, a
bundle under his arms, and a lantern in his hand to the village
church.  In the sack he had some crabs, and in the bundle short
wax-candles.  He sat down in the churchyard, took out a crab, and
stuck a  wax-candle on his back.  Then he lighted the little light,
put the crab on the ground, and let it creep about.  He took a
second out of the sack, and treated it in the same way, and so on
until the last was out of the sack.  Hereupon he put on a long
black garment that looked like a monk's cowl, and stuck a gray
beard on his chin.  When at last he was quite unrecognizable, he
took the sack in which the crabs had been, went into the church,
and ascended the pulpit.  The clock in the tower was just striking
twelve, when the last stroke had sounded, he cried with a loud
and piercing voice, hearken, sinful men, the end of all things
has come.  The last day is at hand.  Hearken.  Hearken.
Whosoever wishes to go to heaven with me must creep into the sack.
I am peter, who opens and shuts the gate of heaven.  Behold how
the dead outside there in the chuchyard are wandering about
collecting their bones.  Come, come, and creep into the sack, the
world is about to be destroyed.  The cry echoed through the whole
village.  The parson and clerk who lived nearest to the church,
heard it first, and when they saw the lights which were moving
about the churchyard, they observed that something unusual was
going on, and went into the church.  They listened to the sermon
for a while, and then the clerk nudged the parson and said, it
would not be amiss if we were to use the opportunity together, and
before the dawning of the last day, find an easy way of getting
to heaven.  To tell the truth, answered the parson, that is what I
myself have been thinking, so if you are inclined, we will set out
on our way.  Yes, answered the clerk, but you, the pastor, have
the precedence, I will follow.  So the parson went first, and
ascended the pulpit where the master opened his
sack.  The parson crept in first, and then the clerk.  The master
immediately tied up the sack tightly, seized it by the middle, and
dragged it down the pulpit-steps, and whenever the heads of the
two fools bumped against the steps, he cried, we are going over
the mountains.  Then he drew them through the village in the same
way, and when they were passing through puddles, he cried, now
we are going through wet clouds.  And when at last he was dragging
them up the steps of the castle, he cried, now we are on the
steps of heaven, and will soon be in the outer court.  When he had
got to the top, he pushed the sack into the pigeon-house, and when
the pigeons fluttered about, he said, hark how glad the angels are,
and how they are flapping their wings.  Then he bolted the door
upon them, and went away.
Next morning he went to the count, and told him that he had
performed the third task also, and had carried the parson and clerk
out of the church.  Where have you left them, asked the Lord.
They are lying upstairs in a sack in the pigeon-house, and
imagine that they are in heaven.  The count went up himself, and
convinced himself that the master had told the truth.  When he had
delivered the parson and clerk from their captivity, he said, you
are an arch-thief, and have won your wager.  For once you escape
with a whole skin, but see that you leave my land, for if ever you
set foot on it again, you may count on your elevation to the
gallows.  The arch-thief took leave of his parents, once more
went forth into the wide world, and no one has ever heard of
him since.
A young drummer went out quite alone one evening into the country,
and came to a lake on the shore of which he perceived lying there
three pieces of white linen.  What fine linen, said he, and put one
piece in his pocket.  He returned home, thought no more of what he
had found, and went to bed.  Just as he was going to sleep, it
seemed to him as if someone was calling his name.  He listened,
and was aware of a soft voice which cried to him, drummer, drummer,
wake up.  As it was a dark night he could see no one, but it
appeared to him that a figure was hovering about his bed.  What
do you want, he asked.  Give me back my shift, answered the voice,
that you took away from me last evening by the lake.  You shall have
it back again, said the drummer, if you will tell me who you are.
Ah, replied the voice, I am the daughter of a mighty king.  But I
have fallen into the power of a witch, and am shut up on the
glass-mountain.  I have to bathe in the lake every day with my
two sisters, but I cannot fly back again without my shift.  My
sisters have gone away, but I have been forced to stay behind.  I
entreat you to give me my shift back.  Don't worry, poor child,
said the drummer.  I will willingly give it back to you.  He took
it out of his pocket, and reached it to her in the dark.  She
snatched it in haste, and wanted to go away with it.  Stop a
moment, perhaps I can help you.  You can only help me by ascending
the glass-mountain, and indeed if you were quite close to it you
could not ascend it.  When I want to do a thing I always can do
it, said the drummer.  I am sorry for you, and have no fear of
anything.  But I do not know the way which leads to the
glass-mountain.  The road goes through the great
forest, in which the man-eaters live, she answered, and more than
that, I dare not tell you.  And then he heard her wings as she flew
away.
By daybreak the drummer arose, buckled on his drums, and went
without fear straight into the forest.  After he had walked for
a while without seeing any giants, he thought to himself, I
must waken up the sluggards, and he hung his drum before him,
and beat such a roll that the birds flew out of the trees with
loud cries.  It was not long before a giant who had been lying
sleeping among the grass, rose up, and was as tall as a fir-tree.
Wretch, cried he, what are you drumming here for, and wakening
me out of my best sleep.  I am drumming, he replied, because
I want to show the way to many thousands who are following me.
What do they want in my forest, demanded the giant.  They want
to put an end to you, and cleanse the forest of such a monster
as you.  Oho.  Said the giant, I will trample you all to death
like so many ants.  Do you think you can do anything against us,
said the drummer, if you stoop to take hold of one, he will jump
away and hide himself.  But when you are lying down and sleeping,
they will come forth from every thicket, and creep up to you.
Every one of them has a hammer of steel in his belt, and with
that they will beat in your skull.  The giant grew angry and
thought, if I meddle with the crafty folk, it might turn out
badly for me.  I can strangle wolves and bears, but I cannot
protect myself from these earth-worms.  Listen, little fellow,
said he, go back again, and I will promise you that for the
future I will leave you and your comrades in peace, and if there
is anything else you wish for, tell me, for I am quite willing
to do something to please you.  You have long legs, said
the drummer, and can run quicker than I.  Carry me to the
glass-mountain, and I will give my followers a signal to go
back, and they shall leave you in peace this time.  Come here,
worm, said the giant.  Seat yourself on my shoulder, I will carry
you where you wish to be.  The giant lifted him up, and the
drummer began to beat his drum up aloft to his heart's delight.
The giant thought, that is the signal for the other people to
turn back.
After a while, a second giant was standing in the road, who took
the drummer from the first, and stuck him in his button-hole.
The drummer laid hold of the button, which was as large as a
dish, held on by it, and looked merrily around.  Then they came
to a third giant, who took him out of the button-hole, and set
him on the rim of his hat.  Up there the drummer walked backwards
and forwards, and looked over the trees, and when he perceived
a mountain in the blue distance, he thought, that must be the
glass-mountain, and so it was.  The giant only made two more
steps, and they reached the foot of the mountain, where the
giant put him down.  The drummer demanded to be put on the
summit of the glass-mountain, but the giant shook his head,
growled something in his beard, and went back into the forest.
And now the poor drummer was standing before the mountain, which
was as high as if three mountains were piled on each other, and
at the same time as smooth as a looking-glass, and did not know
how to get up it.  He began to climb, but that was useless, for
he always slipped back again.  If one was a bird now, thought
he.  But what was the good of wishing, no wings grew for him.
Whilst he was standing thus, not knowing what to do, he saw, not
far from him, two men who were struggling fiercely together.  He
went up to them and saw that they were disputing about a saddle
which was lying on the ground before them, and which both of them
wanted to have.  What fools you are, said he, to quarrel about
a saddle, when you have not a horse for it.  The saddle is
worth fighting about, answered one of the men.  Whosoever
sits on it, and wishes himself in any place, even if it should
be the very end of the earth, gets there the instant he has uttered
the wish.  The saddle belongs to us in common.  It is my turn
to ride on it, but that other man will not let me do it.  I
will soon decide the quarrel, said the drummer, and he went
to a short distance and stuck a white rod in the ground.  Then
he came back and said, now run to the goal, and whoever gets
there first, shall ride first.  Both set out at a trot, but
hardly had they gone a couple of steps before the drummer swung
himself on the saddle, wished himself on the glass-mountain
and before any one could turn round, he was there.  On the
top of the mountain was a plain.  There stood an old stone house,
and in front of the house lay a great fish-pond, but behind it was
a dark forest.  He saw neither men nor animals, everything was
quiet.  Only the wind rustled amongst the trees, and the clouds
moved by quite close above his head.  He went to the door and
knocked.  When he had knocked for the third time, an old woman
with a brown face and red eyes opened the door.  She had
spectacles on her long nose, and looked sharply at him.  Then
she asked what he wanted.  Entrance, food, and a bed for the
night, replied the drummer.  That you shall have, said the old
woman, if you will perform three services in return.  Why not,
he answered, I am not afraid of any kind of work, however, hard
it may be.  The old woman let him go in, and gave him some food
and a good bed at night.  The next morning when he had slept
his fill, she took a thimble from her wrinkled finger, reached
it to the drummer, and said, go to work now, and empty out the
pond with this thimble.  But you must have done it before night,
and must have sought out all the fishes which are in the water
and laid them side by side, according to their kind and size.
That is strange work, said the drummer, but he went to the pond,
and began to empty it.  He baled the whole morning.  But what
can anyone do to a great lake with a thimble, even if he were
to bale for a thousand years.
When it was noon, he thought, it is all useless, and whether I
work or not it will come to the same thing.  So he gave it up
and sat down.  Then came a maiden out of the house who set a
little basket with food before him, and said, what ails you,
that you sit so sadly here.  He looked at her, and saw that
she was wondrously beautiful.  Ah, said he, I cannot finish
the first piece of work, how will it be with the others.  I
came forth to seek a king's daughter who is said to dwell here,
but I have not found her, and I will go farther.  Stay here,
said the maiden, I will help you out of your difficulty.  You
are tired, lay your head in my lap, and sleep.  When you awake
again, your work will be done.  The drummer did not
need to be told that twice.  As soon as his eyes were shut,
she turned a wishing-ring and said, rise, water.  Fishes, come out.
Instantly the water rose on high like a white mist, and moved
away with the other clouds, and the fishes sprang on the shore
and laid themselves side by side each according to his size and
kind.  When the drummer awoke, he saw with amazement that all
was done.  But the maiden said, one of the fish is not lying
with those of its own kind, but quite alone.  When the old
woman comes to-night and sees that all she demanded has been
done, she will ask you, what is this fish lying alone for.
Then throw the fish in her face, and say, this one shall be
for you, old witch.  In the evening the witch came, and when
she had put this question, he threw the fish in her face.  She
behaved as if she did not notice it, and said nothing, but
looked at him with malicious eyes.  Next morning she said,
yesterday it was too easy for you, I must give you harder work.
To-day you must hew down the whole of the forest, split the wood
into logs, and pile them up, and everything must be finished
by the evening.  She gave him an axe, a mallet, and two wedges.
But the axe was made of lead, and the mallet and wedges were of
tin.  When he began to cut, the edge of the axe was blunted,
and the mallet and wedges were beaten out of shape.  He did
not know how to manage, but at mid-day the maiden came once more
with his dinner and comforted him.  Lay your head on my lap,
said she, and sleep.  When you awake, your work will be done.
She turned her wishing-ring, and in an instant the whole forest
fell down with a crash, the wood split, and arranged itself
in heaps, and it seemed just as if unseen giants were finishing
the work.  When he awoke, the maiden said, do you see that the
wood is piled up and arranged, one bough alone remains.  But
when the old woman comes this evening and asks you about that
bough, give her a blow with it, and say, that is for you,
you witch.
The old woman came, there you see how easy the work was,
said she.  But for whom have you left that bough.  For you,
you witch, he replied, and gave her a blow with it.  But she
pretended not to feel it, laughed scornfully, and said, early
to-morrow morning you shall arrange all the wood in one heap,
set fire to it, and burn it.  He rose at break of day, and began
to pick up the wood, but how can a single man get a whole forest
together.  The work made no progress.  The maiden, however,
did not desert him in his need.  She brought him his food at
noon, and when he had eaten, he laid his head on her lap, and
went to sleep.  When he awoke, the entire pile of wood was
burning in one enormous flame, which stretched its tongues
out into the sky.  Listen to me, said the maiden, when the witch
comes, she will give you all kinds of orders.  Do whatever she
asks you without fear, and then she will not be able to get the
better of you, but if you are afraid, the fire will lay hold
of you, and consume you.  At last when you have done everything,
seize her with both your hands, and throw her into the midst
of the fire.  The maiden departed, and the old woman came
sneaking up to him.  Oh, I am cold, said she, but that is a fire
that burns.  It warms my old bones, and does me good.  But I
see a log lying there which won't burn, bring it out for me.
When you have done that, you are free, and may go where you
like.  Now, jump in.
The drummer did not reflect long.  He sprang into the midst of
the flames, but they did not hurt him, and could not even singe
a hair of his head.  He carried the log out, and laid it
down.  Hardly, however, had the wood touched the earth than it was
transformed, and the beautiful maiden who had helped him in his
need stood before him, and by the silken and shining golden
garments which she wore, he knew right well that she was the
king's daughter.  But the old woman laughed venomously, and said,
you think you have her safe, but you have not got her yet.  Just
as she was about to fall on the maiden and take her away, the
youth seized the old woman with both his hands, raised her up
on high, and threw her into the jaws of the fire, which closed
over her as if it were delighted that an old witch was to be
burnt.
Then the king's daughter looked at the drummer, and when she saw
that he was a handsome youth and remembered how he had risked
his life to deliver her, she gave him her hand, and said, you
have ventured everything for my sake, but I also will do everything
for yours.  Promise to be true to me, and you shall be my
husband.  We shall not want for riches, we shall have enough
with what the witch has gathered together here.  She led him into
the house, where there were chests and coffers crammed with the
old woman's treasures.  The maiden left the gold and silver where
it was, and took only the precious stones.  She would not stay
any longer on the glass-mountain, so the drummer said to her,
seat yourself by me on my saddle, and then we will fly down like
birds.  I do not like the old saddle, said she, I need only
turn my wishing-ring and we shall be at home.  Very well, then,
answered the drummer, then wish us in front of the town-gate.  In
the twinkling of an eye they were there, but the drummer said,
I will just go to my parents and tell them the news.  Wait for
me outside here, I shall soon be back.  Ah, said the king's
daughter, I beg you to be careful.  On your arrival do not kiss
your parents on the right cheek, or else you will forget
everything, and I shall stay behind here outside, alone and
deserted.  How can I forget you, said he, and promised her to
come back very soon, and gave his hand upon it.  When he went into
his father's house, he had changed so much that no one knew who
he was, for the three days which he had passed on the glass-mountain
had been three years.  Then he made himself known, and his parents
fell on his neck with joy, and his heart was so moved that
he forgot what the maiden had said and kissed them on both
cheeks.  But when he had given them the kiss on the right cheek,
every thought of the king's daughter vanished from him.  He
emptied out his pockets, and laid handfuls of the largest jewels
on the table.  The parents had not the least idea what to do with
the riches.  Then the father built a magnificent castle all
surrounded by gardens, woods, and meadows as if a prince were
going to live in it, and when it was ready, the mother said, I
have found a maiden for you and the wedding shall be in three days.
The son was content to do as his parents desired.
The poor king's daughter had stood for a long time outside the
town waiting for the return of the young man.  When evening came,
she said, he must certainly have kissed his parents on the right
cheek, and has forgotten me.  Her heart was full of sorrow, she
wished herself into a solitary little hut in a forest, and would
not return to her father's court.  Every evening she went into
the town and passed the young man's house.  He often saw her,
but he no longer knew her.  At length she heard the people
saying, the wedding will take place to-morrow.  Then she said,
I will try if I can win back his heart.
On the first day of the wedding ceremonies, she turned her
wishing-ring, and said, a dress as bright as the sun.  Instantly
the dress lay before her, and it was as bright as if it had been
woven of real sunbeams.  When all the guests were assembled, she
entered the hall.  Every one was amazed at the beautiful dress,
and the bride most of all, and as pretty dresses were the
things she had most delight in, she went to the stranger and asked
if she would sell it to her.  Not for money, she answered, but
if I may pass the first night outside the door of the room where
your betrothed sleeps, I will give it up to you.  The bride
could not overcome her desire and consented, but she mixed a
sleeping-draught with the wine her betrothed took at night,
which made him fall into a deep sleep.  When all had be-
           - line missing in book copy -
of the bedroom, opened it just a little, and cried,
          drummer, drummer, I pray you hear.
          Have you forgotten you held me dear.
          That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour.
          That I rescued your life from the witch's power.
          Did you not plight your troth to me.
          Drummer, drummer, hearken to me.
But it was all in vain, for the drummer did not awake, and when
morning dawned, the king's daughter was forced to go back again
as she came.  On the second evening she turned her wishing-ring
and said, a dress as silvery as the moon.  When she appeared at
the feast in the dress which was as soft as moonbeams, it again
excited the desire of the bride, and the king's daughter gave it
to her
for permission to pass the second night also, outside the door
of the bedroom.  When in the stillness of the night, she cried,
          drummer, drummer, I pray you hear.
          Have you forgotten you held me dear.
          That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour.
          That I rescued your life from the witch's power.
          Did you not plight your troth to me.
          Drummer, drummer, hearken to me.
But the drummer, who was stupefied with the sleeping-draught,
could not be aroused.  Sadly next morning she went back to
her hut in the forest.  But the people in the house had heard
the lamentation of the unknown maiden, and told the bridegroom
about it.  They told him also that it was impossible that he could
hear anything of it, because the maiden he was going to marry
had poured a sleeping-draught into his wine.
On the third evening, the king's daughter turned her wishing-ring,
and said, a dress glittering like the stars.  When she showed
herself therein at the feast, the bride was quite beside herself
with the splendor of the dress, which far surpassed the others,
and she said, I must, and will have it.  The maiden gave it as
she had given the others for permission to spend the night
outside the bridegroom's door.  The bridegroom, however, did not
drink the wine which was handed to him before he went to bed,
but poured it behind the bed, and when everything was quiet, he
heard a sweet voice which called to him,
          drummer, drummer, I pray you hear.
          Have you forgotten you held me dear.
          That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour.
          That I rescued your life from the witch's power.
          Did you not plight your troth to me.
          Drummer, drummer, hearken to me.
Suddenly his memory returned to him.  Ah, cried he, how can I
have acted so unfaithfully.  But the kiss which in the joy of my
heart I gave my parents, on the right cheek, that is to blame
for it all.  That is what stupefied me.  He sprang up, took the
king's daughter by the hand, and led her to his parents, bed.
This is my true bride, said he.  If I marry the other, I shall
do a great wrong.  The parents, when they heard how everything
had happened, gave their consent.  Then the lights in the
hall were lighted again, drums and trumpets were brought,
friends and relations were invited to come, and the real wedding
was solemnized with great rejoicing.  The first bride received
the beautiful dresses as a compensation, and declared herself
satisfied.
In former times, when God himself still walked the earth, the
fruitfulness of the soil was much greater than it is now.  Then
the ears of corn did not bear fifty or sixty, but four or five
hundred-fold.  Then the corn grew from the bottom to the very top
of the stalk, and according to the length of the stalk was the
length of the ear.  Men however are so made, that when they are
too well off they no longer value the blessings which come from
God, but grow indifferent and careless.  One day a woman was
passing by a corn-field when her little child, who was running
beside her, fell into a puddle, and dirtied her frock.  On this
the mother tore up a handful of the beautiful ears of corn, and
cleaned the frock with them.
When the Lord, who just then came by, saw that, he was angry,
and said, henceforth shall the stalks of corn bear no more ears,
men are no longer worthy of heavenly gifts.  The by-standers who
heard this, were terrified, and fell on their knees and prayed
that he would still leave something on the stalks, even if the
people were undeserving of it, for the sake of the innocent
chickens which would otherwise have to starve.  The Lord, who
foresaw their suffering, had pity on them, and granted the
request.  So the ears were left as they now grow.
There was once upon a time a king who had a daughter,
and he caused a glass mountain to be made, and said that
whosoever could cross to the other side of it without falling
should have his daughter to wife.  Then there was one who loved
the king's daughter, and he asked the king if he might have her.
Yes, said the king, if you can cross the mountain without falling,
you shall have her.  And the princess said she would go over it
with him, and would hold him if he were about to fall.  So they
set out together to go over it, and when they were half way up the
princess slipped and fell, and the glass mountain opened and shut
her up inside it, and her betrothed could not see where she had
gone, for the mountain closed immediately.  Then he wept and
lamented much, and the king was miserable too, and ordered the
mountain to be broken open where she had been lost, and thought
he would
be able to get her out again, but they could not find the place
into which she had fallen.
Meanwhile the king's daughter had fallen quite deep down into
the earth into a great cave.  An old fellow with a very long gray
beard came to meet her, and told her that if she would be his
servant and do everything he bade her, she might live, if not
he would kill her.  So she did all he bade her.  In the mornings
he took his ladder out of his pocket, and set it up against the
mountain and climbed to the top by its help, and then he drew the
ladder after him.  The princess had to cook his dinner, make his
bed, and do all his work, and when he came home again he always
brought with him a heap of gold and silver.  When she had lived
with him for many years, and had grown quite old, he called her
mother mansrot, and she had to call him old rinkrank.  Then once
when he was out, and she had made his bed and washed his dishes,
she shut the doors and windows all fast, and there was one little
window through which the light shone in, and this she left open.
When old rinkrank came home, he knocked at his door, and cried,
mother mansrot, open the door for me.  No, said she, old rinkrank,
I will not open the door for you.  Then he said,
     here stand I, poor rinkrank,
     on my seventeen long shanks,
     on my weary, worn-out foot,
     wash my dishes, mother mansrot.
I have washed your dishes already, said she.  Then again he said,
     here stand I, poor rinkrank,
     on my seventeen long shanks,
     on my weary, worn-out foot,
     make my bed, mother mansrot.
I have made your bed already, said she.  Then again he said,
     here stand I, poor rinkrank,
     on my seventeen long shanks,
     on my weary, worn-out foot,
     open the door, mother mansrot.
Then he ran all round his house, and saw that the little window
was open, and thought, I will look in and see what she can be about,
and why she will not open the door for me.  He tried to peep in,
but could not get his head through because of his long beard.
So he first put his beard through the open window, but just as he
had got it through, mother mansrot came by and pulled the window
down with a cord which she had tied to it, and his beard was shut
fast in it.  Then he began to cry most piteously, for it hurt
him very much, and to entreat her to release him again.  But she
said not until he gave her the ladder with which he ascended the
mountain.  Then, whether he would or not, he had to tell her where
the ladder was.  And she fastened a very long ribbon to the
window, and then she set up the ladder, and ascended the
mountain, and when she was at the top of it she opened the
window.  She went to her father, and told him all that had
happened to her.  The king rejoiced greatly, and her betrothed
was still there, and they went and dug up the mountain, and found
old rinkrank inside it with all his gold and silver.  Then the
king had old rinkrank put to death, and took all his gold and
silver.  The princess married her betrothed, and lived right
happily in great magnificence and joy.
There was once an enchantress, who had three sons who loved each
other as brothers, but the old woman did not trust them, and
thought they wanted to steal her power from her.  So she changed
the eldest into an eagle, which was forced to dwell in the rocky
mountains, and was often seen flying in great circles in the sky.
The second, she changed into a whale, which lived in the deep sea,
and all that was seen of it was that it sometimes spouted up a
great jet of water in the air.  Each of them bore his
human form for only two hours daily.  The third son, who was afraid
she might change him into a raging wild beast - a bear perhaps, or
a wolf, went secretly away.  He had heard that a king's daughter
who was bewitched, was imprisoned in the castle of the golden sun,
and was waiting to be set free.  Those, however, who tried to free
her risked their lives.  Three-and-twenty youths had already died
a miserable death, and now only one other might make the attempt,
after which no more must come.  And as his heart was without fear,
he made up his mind to seek out the castle of the golden sun.  He
had already traveled about for a long time without being able to
find it, when he came by chance into a great forest, and did not
know the way out of it.  All at once he saw in the distance two
giants, who made a sign to him with their hands, and when he came
to them they said, we are quarreling about a cap, and which of us
it is to belong to, and as we are equally strong, neither of us
can get the better of the other.  The small men are cleverer than
we are, so we will leave the decision to you.  How can you
dispute about an old cap, said the youth.  You do not know what
properties it has.  It is a wishing-cap, whosoever puts it on, can
wish himself away wherever he likes, and in an instant he will be
there.  Give me the cap, said the youth, I will go a short
distance off, and when I call you, you must run a race, and the
cap shall belong to the one who gets first to me.  He put it on
and went away, and thought of the king's daughter, forgot the
giants, and walked continually onward.  At length he sighed from
the very bottom of his heart, and cried, ah, if I were but at the
castle of the golden sun.  And hardly had the words passed his
lips than he was standing on a high mountain before the
gate of the castle.
He entered and went through all the rooms, until in the last he
found the king's daughter.  But how shocked he was when he saw
her.  She had an ashen-gray face full of wrinkles, bleary eyes,
and red hair.  Are you the king's daughter, whose beauty the whole
world praises, cried he.  Ah, she answered, this is not my form,
human eyes can only see me in this state of ugliness, but that you
may know what I am like, look in the mirror - it does not let
itself be misled - it will show you my image as it is in truth.
She gave him the mirror in his hand, and he saw therein the
likeness of the most beautiful maiden on earth, and saw, too, how
the tears were rolling down her cheeks with grief.  Then said he,
how can you be set free.  I fear no danger.  She said, he who gets
the crystal ball, and holds it before the enchanter, will destroy
his power with it, and I shall resume my true shape.  Ah, she
added, so many have already gone to meet death for this, and you
are so young, I grieve that you should encounter such great
danger.  Nothing can keep me from doing it, said he, but tell me
what I must do.  You shall know everything, said the king's
daughter, when you descend the mountain on which the castle stands,
a wild bull will stand below by a spring, and you must fight with
it, and if you have the luck to kill it, a fiery bird will spring
out of it, which bears in its body a red-hot egg, and in the egg
the crystal ball lies as its yolk.  The bird, however, will not
let the egg fall until forced to do so, and if it falls on the
ground, it will flame up and burn everything that is near, and
even the egg itself will melt, and with it the crystal ball,
and then your trouble will have been in vain.
The youth went down to the spring, where the bull snorted and
bellowed at him.  After a long struggle he plunged his sword in the
animal's body, and it fell down.  Instantly a fiery bird arose
from it and was about to fly away, but the young man's brother,
the eagle, who was passing between the clouds, swooped down,
hunted it away to the sea, and struck it with his beak until, in
its extremity, it let the egg fall.  The egg, however, did not
fall into the sea, but on a fisherman's hut which stood on the
shore and the hut began at once to smoke and was about to break
out in flames.  Then arose in the sea waves as high as a house,
which streamed over the hut, and subdued the fire.  The other
brother, the whale, had come swimming to them, and had driven the
water up on high.  When the fire was extinguished, the youth
sought for the egg and happily found it, it was not yet melted,
but the shell was broken by being so suddenly cooled with the
water, and he could take out the crystal ball unhurt.
When the youth went to the enchanter and held it before him,
the latter said, my power is destroyed, and from this time forth
you are the king of the castle of the golden sun.  With this you
can likewise give back to your brothers their human form.
Then the youth hastened to the king's daughter, and when he
entered the room, she was standing there in the full splendor
of her beauty, and joyfully they exchanged rings with each other.
There was once a king who had a son who asked in marriage the
daughter of a mighty king, she was called maid maleen, and was
very beautiful.  As her father wished to give her to another,
the prince was rejected, but as they both loved each other with
all their hearts, they would not give each other up, and
maid maleen said to her father, I can and will take no other for
my husband.  Then the king flew into a passion, and ordered a
dark tower to be built, into which no ray of sunlight or moonlight
should enter.  When it was finished, he said, therein shall you be
imprisoned for seven years, and then I will come and see if your
perverse spirit is broken.  Meat and drink for the seven years
were carried into the tower, and then she and her maid-in-waiting
were led into it and walled up, and thus cut off from the sky and
from the earth.  There they sat in the darkness, and knew not
when day or night began.  The king's son often went round and
round the tower, and called their names, but no sound from
without pierced through the thick walls.  What else could they do
but lament and complain.
Meanwhile the time passed, and by the decline of food and drink
they knew that the seven years were coming to an end.  They
thought the moment of their deliverance was come, but no stroke
of the hammer was heard, no stone fell out of the wall, and it
seemed to maid maleen that her father had forgotten her.  As
they had food only for a short time longer, and saw a miserable
death awaiting them, maid maleen said, we must try our last
chance, and see if we can break through the wall.  She took the
bread-knife, and picked and bored at the mortar of a stone, and
when she was tired, the waiting-maid took her turn.  With great
labor they succeeded in getting out one stone, and then a second,
and a third, and when three days were over the first ray of light
fell on their darkness, and at last the opening was so large that
they could look out.  The sky was blue, and a fresh breeze
played on their faces, but how melancholy everything looked all
around.  Her father's castle lay in ruins, the town and the
villages were, so far as could be seen, destroyed by fire, the
fields far and wide laid to waste, and no human being was visible.
When the opening in the wall was large enough for them to slip
through, the waiting-maid sprang down first, and then maid maleen
followed.  But where were they to go.  The enemy had ravaged the
whole kingdom, driven away the king, and slain all the inhabitants.
They wandered forth to seek another
country, but nowhere did they find a shelter, or a human being to
give them a mouthful of bread, and their need was so great that
they were forced to appease their hunger with nettles.  When,
after long journeying, they came into another country, they tried
to get work everywhere, but wherever they knocked they were turned
away, and no one would have pity on them.  At last they arrived in
a large city and went to the royal palace.  There also they were
ordered to go away, but at last the cook said that they might stay
in the kitchen and be scullions.
The son of the king in whose kingdom they were, however, was the
very man who had been betrothed to maid maleen.  His father had
chosen another bride for him, whose face was as ugly as her heart
was wicked.  The wedding was fixed, and the maiden had already
arrived, but because of her great ugliness she shut herself in
her room, and allowed no one to see her, and maid maleen had to
take her her meals from the kitchen.  When the day came for the
bride and the bridegroom to go to church, she was ashamed of her
ugliness, and afraid that if she showed herself in the streets,
she would be mocked and laughed at by the people.  Then said she
to maid maleen, a great piece of luck has befallen you.  I have
sprained my foot, and cannot well walk through the streets, you
shall put on wedding-clothes and take my place, a greater honor
than that you cannot have.  Maid maleen, however, refused it, and
said, I wish for no honor which is not suitable for me.  It was in
vain, too, that the bride offered her gold.  At last she said
angrily, if you do not obey me, it shall cost you your life.  I
have but to speak the word, and your head will lie at your feet.
Then she was forced to obey, and put on the bride's magnificent
clothes and all her jewels.  When she entered the royal hall, every
one was amazed at her great beauty, and the king said to his son,
this is the bride whom I have chosen for you, and whom you must
lead to church.  The bridegroom was astonished, and thought, she
is like my maid maleen, and I should believe that it was she
herself, but she has long been shut up in the tower, or dead.
He took her by the hand and led her to church.  On the way was a
nettle-plant, and she said,
     oh, nettle-plant,
     little nettle-plant,
     what dost thou here alone.
     I have known the time
     when I ate thee unboiled
     when I ate thee unroasted.
What are you saying, asked the king's son.  Nothing, she replied,
I was only thinking of maid maleen.  He was surprised that she knew
about her, but kept silence.  When they came to the foot-plank
into the chuchyard, she said,
     foot-bridge, do not break,
     I am not the true bride.
What are you saying there, asked the the king's son.  Nothing, she
replied, I was only thinking of maid maleen.  Do you know maid
maleen.  No, she answered, how should I know her, I have only
heard of her.  When they came to the church-door, she said once
more,
     church-door, break not,
     I am not the true bride.
What are you saying there asked he.  Ah, she answered, I was only
thinking of maid maleen.  Then he took out a precious chain, put it
round her neck, and fastened the clasp.  Thereupon they entered the
church, and the priest joined their hands together before the
altar, and married them.  He led her home, but she did not speak
a single word the whole way.  When they got back to the royal
palace, she hurried into the bride's chamber, put off the
magnificent clothes and the jewels, dressed herself in her gray
gown, and kept nothing but the jewel on her neck, which she had
received from the bridegroom.
When the night came, and the bride was to be led into the prince's
apartment, she let her veil fall over her face, that he might not
observe the deception.  As soon as everyone had gone away, he said
to her,  what did you say to the nettle-plant which was growing
by the wayside.
To which nettle-plant, asked she, I don't talk to nettle-plants.
If you did not do it, then you are not the true bride, said he.
So she bethought herself, and said,
     I must go out unto my maid
     who keeps my thoughts for me.
She went out and sought maid maleen.  Girl, what have you been
saying to the nettle.  I said nothing but,
     oh, nettle-plant,
     little nettle-plant,
     what dost thou here alone.
     I have known the time
     when I ate thee unboiled,
     when I ate thee unroasted.
The bride ran back into the chamber, and said, I know now
what I said to the nettle, and she repeated the words which she had
just heard.  But what did you say to the foot-bridge when we went
over it asked the king's son.  To the foot-bridge, she answered.
I don't talk to foot-bridges.  Then you are not the true bride.
She again said,
     I must go out unto my maid,
     who keeps my thoughts for me.
And ran out and scolded maid maleen, girl, what did you say to the
foot-bridge.
I said nothing but,
     foot-bridge, do not break,
     I am not the true bride.
That costs you your life, cried the bride, but she hurried into
the room and said, I know now what I said to the foot-bridge,
and she repeated the words.  But what did you say to the
church-door.  To the church-door, she replied, I don't talk to
church-doors.  Then you are not the true bride.
She went out and scolded maid maleen, and said, girl, what did you
say to the church-door.  I said nothing but,
     church-door, break not,
     I am not the true bride.
That will break your neck for you, cried the bride, and flew
into a terrible passion, but she hastened back into the room, and
said, I know now what I said to the church-door, and she
repeated the words.  But where have you the jewel which I gave you
at the church-door.  What jewel, she answered, you did not give
me any jewel.  I myself put it round your neck, and I myself
fastened it, if you do not know that, you are not the true bride.
He drew the veil from her face, and when he saw her immeasurable
ugliness, he sprang back terrified, and said, how do you come here.
Who are you.  I am your betrothed bride, but because I feared lest
the people should mock me when they saw me out of doors, I
commanded the scullery-maid to dress herself in my clothes, and to
go to church instead of me.  Where is the girl, said he
I want to see her, go and bring her here.  She went out
and told the servants that the scullery-maid was an impostor, and
that they must take her out into the court-yard and strike off her
head.  The servants laid hold of maid maleen and wanted to drag her
out, but she screamed so loudly for help, that the king's son
heard her voice, hurried out of his chamber and ordered them to
set the maiden free instantly.  Lights were brought, and then he
saw on her neck the gold chain which he had given her at the
church-door.  You are the true bride, said he, who went with me
to church, come with me now to my room.  When they were both alone,
he said, on the way to the church you did name maid maleen, who
was my betrothed bride.  If I could believe it possible, I should
think she was standing before me - you are like her in every
respect.  She answered, I am maid maleen, who for your sake was
imprisoned seven years in the darkness, who suffered hunger and
thirst, and has lived so long in want and poverty.  Today,
however, the sun is shining on me once more.  I was married to
you in the church, and I am your lawful wife.  Then they kissed
each other, and were happy all the days of their lives.  The
false bride was rewarded for what she had done by having her
head cut off.
The tower in which maid maleen had been imprisoned remained
standing for a long time, and when the children passed by it
they sang,
     king, klang, gloria.
     Who sits within this tower.
     A king's daughter, she sits within,
     a sight of her I cannot win,
     the wall it will not break,
     the stone cannot be pierced.
     Little Hans, with your coat so gay,
     follow me, follow me, fast as you may.
There was once on a time a mother who had three daughters,
the eldest of whom was rude and wicked, the second much better,
although she had her faults, but the youngest was a pious, good
child.  The mother, however, was so strange, that it was just
the eldest daughter whom she most loved, and she could not bear
the youngest.  On this account, she often sent the poor girl
out into the great forest in order to get rid of her, for she
thought she would lose herself and never come back again.  But
the guardian-angel which every good child has, did not forsake
her, but always brought her into the right path again.  Once,
however, the guardian-angel behaved as if he were not there,
and the child could not find her way out of the forest again.
She walked on constantly until evening came, and then she saw
a tiny light burning in the distance, ran up to it at once,
and came to a little hut.  She knocked, the door opened, and
she came to a second door, where she knocked again.  An old man,
who had a snow-white beard and looked venerable, opened it
for her.  And he was no other than St. Joseph.  He said quite
kindly, come, dear child, seat yourself on my little chair by
the fire, and warm yourself.  I will fetch you clear water if
you are thirsty.  But here in the forest, I have nothing for
you to eat but a couple of little roots, which you must first
scrape and boil.
St. Joseph gave her the roots.  The girl scraped them clean, then
she brought a piece of pancake and the bread that her mother
had given her to take with her, mixed all together in a pan, and
cooked herself a thick soup.  When it was ready, St. Joseph said,
I am so hungry, give me some of your food.  The child was quite
willing, and gave him more than she kept for herself, but God's
blessing
was with her, so that she was satisfied.  When they had eaten,
St. Joseph said, now we will go to bed.  I have, however, only
one bed, lay your self in it.  I will lie on the ground on the
straw.  No, answered she, stay in your own bed, the straw is
soft enough for me.  But St. Joseph took the child in his arms,
and carried her into the little bed, and there she said her
prayers, and fell asleep.  Next morning when she awoke, she
wanted to say good morning to St. Joseph, but she did not see him.
Then she got up and looked for him, but could not find him
anywhere.  At last she perceived, behind the door, a bag with
money so heavy that she could just carry it, and on it was
written that it was for the child who had slept there that night.
On this she took the bag, bounded away with it, and got
safely to her mother, and as she gave her mother all the money,
she could not help being satisfied with her.
The next day, the second child also took a fancy to go into
the forest.  Her mother gave her a much larger piece of pancake
and bread.  It happened with her just as with the first child.
In the evening she came to St. Joseph's little hut, who gave her
roots for a thick soup.  When it was ready, he likewise said
to her, I am so hungry, give me some of your food.  Then the
child said, you may have your share.  Afterwards, when St.
Joseph offered her his bed and wanted to lie on the straw, she
replied, no, lie down in the bed, there is plenty of room for
both of us.  St. Joseph took her in his arms and put her in the
bed, and laid himself on the straw.
In the morning when the child awoke and looked for St. Joseph,
he had vanished, but behind the door she found a little sack
of money that was about as long as a hand, and on it was
written that it was for the child who had slept there last
night.  So she took the little bag and ran home with it, and
took it to her mother, but she secretly kept two pieces for
herself.
The eldest daughter had by this time grown inquisitive, and the
next morning also insisted on going out into the forest.  Her
mother gave her pancakes - as many as she wanted, and bread
and cheese as well.  In the evening she found St. Joseph in his
little hut, just as the two others had found him.  When the
soup was ready
and St. Joseph said, I am so hungry, give me some of the food,
the girl answered, wait until I am satisfied, then if there is
anything left you shall have it.  But she ate nearly the
whole of it, and St. Joseph had to scrape the dish.  Afterwards,
the good old man offered her his bed, and wanted to lie on
the straw.  She took it without making any opposition, laid
herself down in the little bed, and left the hard straw to the
white-haired man.  Next morning when she awoke, St. Joseph was
not to be found, but she did not trouble herself about that.  She
looked behind the door for a money-bag.  She fancied something
was lying on the ground, but as she could not very well distinguish
what it was, she stooped down, so that she touched it with her
nose, where it remained hanging, and when she got up again,
she saw, to her horror, that it was a second nose, which was
hanging fast to her own.  Then she began to scream and howl,
but that did no good.  She always had to look at her nose, for
it stretched out so far.  Then she ran out and screamed without
stopping till she met St. Joseph, at whose feet she fell and begged
until, out of pity, he took the nose off her again, and even
gave her two farthings.  When she got home, her mother was standing
before the door, and asked, what have you had given to you.  Then
she
lied and said, a great bag of money, but I have lost it on the way.
Lost it. Cried the mother.  Oh, but we will soon find it again,
and took her by the hand, and wanted to seek it with her.  At
first she began to cry, and did not wish to go, but at last she
went.  On the way, however, so many lizards and snakes broke
loose on both of them, that they did not know how to save
themselves.  At last they stung the wicked child to death, and
they stung the mother in the foot, because she had not brought
her up better.
Three hundred years before the birth of the Lord christ, there
lived a mother who had twelve sons, but was so poor and needy
that she no longer knew how she was to keep them alive.  She
prayed to God daily that he would grant that all her sons might
be on the earth with the redeemer who was promised.  When her
necessity became still greater she sent one of them after the
other out into the world to seek their bread.  The eldest was
called peter, and he went out and had already walked a long
way, a whole day's journey, when he came into a great forest.
He sought for a way out, but could find none, and went farther
and farther astray, and at the same time felt such great hunger
that he could scarcely stand.  At length he became so weak that
he was forced to lie down, and he believed death to be at
hand.  Suddenly there stood beside him a small boy who shone
with brightness, and was as beautiful and kind as an angel.
The child smote his little hands together, until peter was
forced to look up and see him.  Then the child said, why are
you sitting there in such trouble.  Alas. Answered peter, I
am going about the world seeking bread, that I may yet see the
dear savior who is promised, that is my greatest desire.  The
child said, come with me, and your wish shall be fulfilled.  He
took poor peter by the hand, and led him between some cliffs to a
great cavern.  When they entered it, everything was shining
with gold, silver, and crystal, and in the midst of it twelve
cradles were standing side by side.  Then said the little angel,
lie down in the first, and sleep a while, I will rock you.
Peter did so, and the angel sang to him and rocked him until
he was alseep. And when he was asleep, the second brother came
also, guided thither by his guardian angel, and he was rocked
to sleep like the first, and thus came the others, one after
the other, until all twelve lay there sleeping in the golden
cradles.  They slept, however, three hundred years, until the
night when the savior of the world was born.  Then they awoke,
and were with him on earth, and were called the twelve apostles.
There was once a poor woman who had two children.  The youngest
had to go every day into the forest to fetch wood.  Once when
she had gone a long way to seek it, a little child, who
was quite strong, came and helped her industriously to pick up
the wood and carry it home, and then before a moment had passed
the strange child disappeared.  The child told her mother this,
but at first she would not believe it.  At length she brought
a rose home, and told her mother that the beautiful child had
given her this
rose, and had told her that when it was in full bloom, he would
return.  The mother put the rose in water.  One morning her
child could not get out of bed.  The mother went to the bed and
found her dead, but she lay looking very happy.  On the same
morning, the rose was in full bloom.
There was once a king's son who went out into the world, and
he was full of thought and sad.  He looked at the sky, which
was so beautifully pure and blue, then he sighed, and said,
how well must all be with one up there in heaven.
Then he saw a poor gray-haired man who was coming along the
road towards him, and he spoke to him, and asked, how can I
get to heaven.  The man answered, by poverty and humility.  Put
on my ragged clothes, wander about the world for seven years,
and get to know what misery is, take no money, but if you are hungry
ask compassionate hearts for a bit of bread.  In this way you will
reach heaven.
Then the king's son took off his magnificent coat, and wore in
its place the beggar's garment, went out into the wide world,
and suffered great misery.  He took nothing but a little food,
said nothing, but prayed to the Lord to take him into his
heaven.  When the
seven years were over, he returned to his father's palace, but no
one recognized him.  He said to the servants, go and tell my
parents that I have come back again.  But the servants did not
believe it, and laughed and left him standing there.  Then said he,
go and tell it to my brothers that they may come down, for I
should so like to see them again.  The servants would not do that
either, but at last one of them went, and told it to the king's
children, but these did not believe it, and did not trouble
themselves about it.  Then he wrote a letter to his mother, and
described to her all his misery, but he did not say that he was
her son.  So out of pity, the queen had a place under the stairs
assigned to him, and food taken to him daily by two servants.  But
one of them was ill-natured and said, why should the beggar have
the good food, and kept it for himself, or gave it to the
dogs, and took the weak, emaciated beggar nothing but water.  The
other, however, was honest, and took the beggar what was sent to
him.  It was little, but he could live on it for a while, and
all the time he was quite patient, but he grew continually weaker.
As his illness increased, he desired to receive the last sacrament.
When the mass was being celebrated, all the bells in the town and
neighborhood began to ring of their own accord.  After mass the
priest went to the poor man under the stairs, and there he lay
dead.  In one hand he had a rose, in the other a lily, and beside
him was a paper on which was written his history.
When he was buried, a rose grew on one side of his grave, and a
lily on the other.
There were once upon a time two sisters, one of whom had no
children and was rich, and the other had five and was a
widow, and so poor that she no longer had food enough to satisfy
herself and her children.  In her need, therefore, she went to
her sister, and said, my children and I are suffering the greatest
hunger.  You are rich, give me a mouthful of bread.  The very
rich sister was as hard as a stone, and said, I myself have nothing
in the house, and drove away the poor creature with harsh words.
After some time the husband of the rich sister came home, and was
just going to cut himself a piece of bread, but when he made the
first cut into the loaf, out flowed red blood.  When the woman
saw that she was terrified and told him what had occurred.  He
hurried away to help the widow and her children, but when he
entered her room, he found her praying.  She had her two youngest
children in her arms, and the three eldest were lying dead.  He
offered her food, but she answered, for earthly food have we no
longer any desire.  God has already satisfied the hunger of three
of us, and he will hearken to our supplications likewise.
Scarcely had she uttered these words than the two little ones
drew their last breath, whereupon her heart broke, and she sank
down dead.
There was once upon a time a hermit who lived in a forest at the
foot of a mountain, and passed his time in prayer and good works,
and every evening he carried, to the glory of God, two pails of
water up the mountain.  Many a beast drank of it, and many a plant
was refreshed by it, for on the heights above, a strong wind blew
continually, which dried the air and the ground, and the wild
birds which dread mankind wheel about there, and with their sharp
eyes search for a drink.  And because the hermit was so pious, an
angel of God, visible to his eyes, went up with him, counted his
steps, and when the work was completed, brought him his food, even
as the prophet of old was by God's command fed by the raven.  When
the hermit in his piety had already reached a great age, it
happened that he once saw from afar a poor sinner being taken to
the gallows.  He said carelessly to himself, there, that one is
getting his deserts.  In the evening, when he was carrying the
water up the mountain, the angel who usually accompanied him did
not appear, and also brought him no food.  Then he was terrified,
and searched his heart, and tried to think how he could have
sinned, as God was so angry, but he did not discover it.  Then
he neither ate nor drank, threw himself down on the ground, and
prayed day and night.  And as he was one day thus bitterly
weeping in the forest, he heard a little bird singing beautifully
and delightfully, and then he was still more troubled and said,
how joyously you sing, the Lord is not angry with you.  Ah, if
you could but tell me how I can have offended him, that I might
do penance, and then my heart also would be glad again.  Then the
bird began to speak and said, you have done injustice, in that
you have condemned a poor sinner who was being led to the gallows,
and for that the Lord is angry with you.  He alone sits in
judgement.  However, if you will do penance and repent your sins,
he will forgive you.  Then the angel stood beside him with a dry
branch in his hand and said, you shall carry this dry branch until
three green twigs sprout out of it, but at night when you will
sleep, you shall lay it under your head.  You shall beg your
bread from door to door, and not tarry more than one night in the
same house.  That is the penance which the Lord lays on you.
Then the hermit took the piece of wood, and went back into the
world, which he had not seen for so long.  He ate and drank
nothing but what was given him at the doors.  Many petitions,
however, were not listened to, and many doors remained shut to
him, so that he often did not get a crumb of bread.
Once when he had gone from door to door from morning till night,
and no one had given him anything, and no one would shelter him
for the night, he went forth into a forest, and at last found a
cave which someone had made, and an old woman was sitting in it.
Then said he, good woman, keep me with you in your house for
this night.  But she said, no, I dare not, even if I wished,
I have three sons who are wicked and wild, if they come home
from their robbing expedition, and find you, they would kill us
both.  The hermit said, let me stay, they will do no injury
either to you or to me.  And the old woman was compassionate,
and let herself be persuaded.  Then the man lay down beneath the
stairs, and put the bit of wood under his head.  When the old
woman saw him do that, she asked the reason of it, on which he
told her that he carried the bit of wood about with him for a
penance, and used it at night for a pillow, and that he had
offended the Lord, because, when he had seen a poor sinner on
the way to the gallows, he had said he was getting his deserts.
Then the woman began to weep and cried, if the Lord punishes one
single word, how will it fare with my sons when they appear
before him in judgment.
At midnight the robbers came home and blustered and stormed.
They made a fire, and when it had lighted up the cave and they
saw a man lying under the stairs, they fell in a rage and cried to
their mother, who is the man.  Have we not forbidden anyone
whomsoever to be taken in.  Then said the mother, let him alone,
it is a poor sinner who is expiating his crime.  The robbers
asked, what has he done.  Old man, cried they, tell us your sins.
The old man raised himself and told them how he, by one single
word, had so sinned that God was angry with him, and how he was
now expiating this crime.  The robbers were so powerfully touched
in their hearts by this story, that they were shocked with their
life up to this time, reflected, and began with hearty
repentance to do penance for it.  The hermit, after he had
converted the three sinners, lay down to sleep again under the
stairs.  In the morning, however, they found him dead, and out of
the dry wood on which his head lay, three green twigs had grown
up on high.  Thus the Lord had once more received him into his
favor.
In a large town there was an old woman who sat in the evening alone
in her room thinking how she had lost first her husband, then
both her children, then one by one all her relatives, and at
length, that very day, her last friend, and now she was quite
alone and desolate.  She was very sad at heart, and heaviest of
all her losses to her was that of her sons, and in her pain she
blamed God for it.  She was still sitting lost in thought, when
all at once she heard the bells ringing for early prayer.  She was
surprised that she had thus in her sorrow watched through the
whole night, and lighted her lantern and went to church.  It was
already lighted up when she arrived, but not as it usually was
with wax candles, but with a dim
light.  It was also crowded already with people, and all the
seats were filled, and when the old woman got to her usual place
it also was not empty, but the whole bench was entirely full.  And
when she looked at the people, they were none other than her dead
relatives who were sitting there in their old-fashioned garments,
but with pale faces.  They neither spoke nor sang, but a soft
humming and whispering was heard all over the church.  Then an
aunt of hers stood up, stepped forward, and said to the poor old
woman, look there beside the altar, and you will see your sons.
The old woman looked there, and saw her two children, one hanging
on the gallows, the other bound to the wheel.  Then said the aunt,
behold, so would it have been with them if they had lived, and if
the good God had not taken them to himself when they were
innocent children.  The old woman went trembling home, and on her
knees thanked God for having dealt with her more kindly than she
had been able to understand, and on the third day she lay down
and died.
One afternoon the christ-child had laid himself in his cradle-bed
and had fallen asleep.  Then his mother came to him, looked at him
full of gladness, and said, have you laid yourself down to sleep,
my child.  Sleep sweetly, and in the meantime, I will go into the
wood, and fetch you a handful of strawberries, for I know that you
will be pleased with them when you awake.  In the wood outside,
she found a spot with the most beautiful strawberries, but as she
was stooping to gather one, an adder sprang up out of the grass.
She was alarmed, left the strawberries where they were, and
hastened away.  The adder darted after her, but our lady, as you
can readily understand, knew what it was best to do.  She hid
herself behind a hazel-bush, and stood there until the adder had
crept away again.  Then she gathered the strawberries, and as she
set out on her way home she said, as the hazel-bush has been my
protection this time, it shall in future protect others also.
Therefore, from the most remote times, a green hazel-branch has
been the safest protection against adders, snakes, and everything
else which creeps on the earth.
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 to eat, think of
me, I should like a drop of sweet red christening wine myself.
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 that matter, 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 yearning.  She
said to the mouse, you must do me a favor, 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 godmother, 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.
There was once a wonderful musician, who went quite forlorn
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 you play.  I should like to
learn that, too.  It is soon learnt, the musician replied, you
have only to do all that I bid you.  Oh, musician, said the wolf,
I will obey you 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 you will learn to fiddle, put
your 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.
Wait 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 you play.  I should like to learn that
too.  That is soon learnt, said the musician.  You have only to
do everything that I bid you.  Oh, musician, then said the fox, I
will obey you 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 end of it.  Then he
bent down a young tree from the other side as well, and said, now
little fox, if you will learn something, give me your left front
paw.  The fox obeyed, and the musician fastened his paw to the
left bough.  Little fox, said he, now reach me your right paw.
And he tied it to the right bough.  When he had examined whether
the knots 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 on 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.  Ah, a hare is
coming, said the musician, I do not want him.  Ah, dear
musician, said the hare, how beautifully you fiddle, I too,
should like to learn that.  That is soon learnt, said the
musician, you have only to do everything that I bid you.
Oh, musician, replied the little hare, I will obey you 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 rescued, 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 deal 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.
The cock once said to the hen, it is now the time when the 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 fun together.  Then
they went away to the hill, and as 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
too 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, you can
just harness yourself 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 at them, you thieving
folks, who bade you go to my nut-hill.  Wait, 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 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 at a gallop, with the cock crying, duck,
go as fast as you can.  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 had 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 had a high good time.  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 last without more ado they
fled 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 traveling than being harnessed to a
carriage.  The host did not get out of bed until a couple of
hours later.  He washed himself and was about to dry himself, when
the pin went over his face and made a red scratch 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, ow, 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 in search of 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.
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 sheer 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 together.  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.
There was once upon a time a fisherman who lived with his wife
in a pig-stye close by the sea, and every day he went out fishing.
And he fished, and he fished.  And once he was sitting with his
rod, looking at the clear water, and he sat and he sat.  Then
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.  And 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 pig-stye.
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 pig-stye which stinks and is so disgusting.  You
might have wished for a little hut for us.  Go back and call
him.  Tell him we want to have a little hut, 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 either, 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 pig-stye any longer.  She would
like to have a hut.  Go, then, said the flounder, she has it
already.
When the man went home, his wife was no longer in the stye,
but instead of it there stood a hut, 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 hut 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 it shall
remain - 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 hut 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 hut is quite good
enough.  Why whould 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 hut,
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, now, 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 bedrooms 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, now. 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 splendor, 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.  No, husband, said the
woman, quite anxiously, I find time passes very heavily, I can
bear it no longer.  Go to the flounder - I am king, but I must
be emperor, too.  Oh, 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, now, 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.  Oh,
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 patch 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, now, 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 splendor.  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, 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, she tore open her
bodice, kicked him with her foot, and screamed, I can't stand
it, I can't stand it any longer.  Will you go this instant.
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, now, 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 pig-stye.  And there they are still
living to this day.
Once upon a time a mouse, a bird, and a sausage became
companions, kept house together, lived well and happily in
peace, 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 the bird met with another bird, 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
bare-faced robbery, but words were useless, 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 table, 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 in 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
broke out.  The bird hastened to fetch water, but the bucket
dropped into the well, and he fell in with it, and could not
recover himself, but had to drown there.
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 a 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 kettle-drum.
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 the top of
my lungs while still 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 reach the city of bremen in one day, however,
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 too that a few bones with some meat on would do
him good.
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 robbers, 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, if only 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, shattering the glass.  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 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 dunghill, 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 never again dared enter the house.
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.
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.  At this the little flea began to scream loudly. Then
said the little room-door, little flea, why are you screaming.
Because the louse has burnt herself.
Then the little door began to creak.  At this a little broom in
the corner said, why are you 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 are you 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 like
mad.  Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, why are you 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 are you 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 are
you shaking yourself.  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.
At 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 are you breaking your
water-pitcher.  Have I not reason to break my water-pitcher.
          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.
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 someone 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.  You have been light-fingered and have snipped
folks, clothes away.  You will not get into heaven.  The Lord has
forbidden me to let anyone 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 from walking
here, I cannot possibly turn back again.  Just let me in, and I will
do all the dirty work.  I will carry the children, and wash their
clothes, and scrub and clean the benches on which they have been
playing, and patch all their torn frocks.  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 told 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, peeped into
every corner of heaven, and inspected the arrangement of the whole
place.  At length he came to a spot where many beautiful and
precious 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 the seat, however, on which the Lord sat when he was at home,
and from which he could see all that 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.  But
since 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 returned 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, you knave, said the Lord, were I to
judge as you judge, how do you think you could 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 you can stay no longer in heaven, but must go outside the
door again.  Then go where you will.  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-while, where the good soldiers sit
and make merry.
There was once upon a time an old fox with nine tails, who
believed that his wife was not faithful to him, and wished to
put her to the test.  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, suitors presented themselves.  The
maid heard someone 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,
     would you know what I am making.
     I am boiling warm beer with butter,
     will you be my guest for supper.
No, thank you, miss, said the fox, what is mrs. Fox doing.
The maid replied,
     she is sitting in her room,
     moaning in her gloom,
     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.
     What does he look like, my dear.
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 cudgeled all the rabble, and drove
them and mrs. Fox out of the house.
When old mr. Fox was dead, the wolf came as a suitor, 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 you be my guest, 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 parlor 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 qualities which old mr. Fox had possessed, was always
lacking, and the cat had continually to send the suitors 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.
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 think.  He
took the shoes in his hands to observe them closer, and they were
so neatly made, with not one bad stitch in them, that it was just
as if they were intended as a masterpiece.  Before long, 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.  Again
the following morning he found the 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 avert 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 you
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 you 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, put
on the beautiful clothes, and sang,
     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 efforts prospered.
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 they reached the house of herr korbes,
however, 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 fell down and struck him dead.  Herr
korbes must have been a very wicked man.
A sheep-dog had not a good master, but, on the contrary, one who
let him suffer hunger.  As he could stay no longer with him, he
went quite sadly away.  On the road he met a sparrow who said,
brother dog, why are you so sad.  The dog replied, I am hungry,
and have nothing to eat.  Then said the sparrow, dear brother,
come into the town with me, and I will satisy your hunger.  So
they went into the town together, and when they came in front
of a butcher's shop the sparrow said to the dog, stay there, and
I will pick a bit of meat down for you, and he alighted on the
stall, looked about him to see that no one was observing him,
and pecked and pulled and tore so long at a piece which lay on
the edge, that it slipped down.  Then the dog seized it, ran into
a corner, and devoured it.  The sparrow said, now come with me
to another shop, and then I will get you one more piece that
you may be satisfied.  When the dog had devoured the second piece
as well, the sparrow asked, brother dog, have you now had enough.
Yes, I have had meat enough, he answered, but I have had no
bread yet.  Said the sparrow, you shall have that also, come
with me.  Then he took him to a baker's shop, and pecked at a
couple of little buns till they rolled down, and as the dog
wanted still more, he led him to another stall, and again got
bread for him.  When that was consumed, the sparrow said, brother
dog, have you now had enough.  Yes, he replied, now we will walk
awhile outside the town.
Then they both went out on to the highway.  The weather was warm,
however, and when they had walked a little way the dog said, I am
tired, and would like to sleep.  Well, do sleep, answered the
sparrow, and in the meantime I will seat myself on a branch.  So
the dog lay down on the road, and fell fast asleep.  Whilst he lay
sleeping there, a waggoner came driving by, who had a cart with
three horses, laden with two barrels of wine.  The sparrow,
however, saw that he was not going to turn aside, but was staying
in the wheel track in which the dog was lying, so it cried,
waggoner, don't do it, or I will make you poor.  But the
waggoner growled to himself, you will not make me poor, and
cracked his whip and drove the cart over the dog, and the wheels
killed him.  Then the sparrow cried, you have run over my brother
dog and killed him, it shall cost you your cart and horses.  Cart
and horses indeed, said the waggoner.  What harm can you do me.
And drove onwards.  Then the sparrow crept under the cover of the
cart, and pecked so long at the same bung-hole that he got the
bung out, and then all the wine ran out without the driver
noticing it.  But once when he was looking behind him he saw that
the cart was dripping, and looked at the barrels and saw that one
of them was empty.  Unfortunate fellow that am I, cried he.  Not
unfortunate enough yet, said the sparrow, and flew on to the head
of one of the horses and pecked his eyes out.  When the driver
saw that, he drew out his axe and wanted to hit the sparrow, but
the sparrow flew into the air, and he hit his horse on the head
and it fell down dead.  Oh, what an unfortunate man am I, cried
he.  Not unfortunate enough yet, said the sparrow, and when the
driver drove on with the two hoses, the sparrow again crept
under the cover, and pecked the bung out of the second cask, so
all the wine was spilt.  When the driver became aware of it, he
again cried, oh, what an unfortunate man am I.  But the sparrow
replied, not unfortunate enough yet, and seated himself on the
head of the second horse, and pecked his eyes out.  The driver
ran up to it and raised his axe to strike, but the sparrow flew
into the air and the blow struck the horse, which fell.  Oh, what
an unfortunate man am I.  Not unfortunate enough yet, said the
sparrow, and lighted on the third horse's head, and pecked out
his eyes.  The driver, in his rage, struck at the sparrow without
looking round, and did not hit him but killed his third horse
likewise.  Oh, what an unfortunate man am I, cried he.
Not unfortunate enough
yet, answered the sparrow.  Now will I make you unfortunate in
your home, and flew away.
The driver had to leave the waggon standing, and full of anger
and vexation went home.  Ah, said he to his wife, what misfortunes
I have had.  My wine has run out, and the horses are all three
dead.  Alas, husband, she answered, what a malicious bird has
come into the house.  It has gathered together every bird there
is in the world, and they have fallen on our corn up there, and
are devouring it.  Then he went upstairs, and thousands and
thousands of birds were sitting in the loft and had eaten up all
the corn, and the sparrow was sitting in the midst of them.
Then the driver cried, oh, what an unfortunate man am I.
Not unfortunate enough yet, answered the sparrow, waggoner, it
shall cost you your life as well, and flew out.
Then the waggoner had lost all his property, and he went
downstairs into the room, sat down behind the stove and was quite
furious and bitter.  But the sparrow sat outside in front of the
window, and cried, waggoner, it shall cost you your life.  Then
the waggoner snatched the axe and threw it at the sparrow, but it
only broke the window, and did not hit the bird.  The sparrow
now hopped in, placed itself on the stove and cried, waggoner, it
shall cost you your life.  The latter, quite mad and blind with
rage, smote the stove in twain, and as the sparrow flew from one
place to another so it fared with all his household furniture,
looking-glass, benches, table, and at last the walls of his house,
and yet he could not hit the bird.  At length, however, he caught
it with his hand.  Then his wife said, shall I kill it.  No, cried
he, that would be too merciful.  It shall die much more cruelly.
And he took it and swallowed it whole.  The sparrow, however,
began to flutter about in his body, and fluttered up again into
the man's mouth, then it stretched out its head, and cried,
waggoner, it shall still cost you your life.  The driver gave
the axe to his wife, and said, wife, kill the bird in my mouth
for me.  The woman struck, but missed her blow, and hit the
waggoner square on his head, so that he fell dead.  But the
sparrow flew up and away.
There was once upon a time a man who was called frederick
and a woman called catherine, who had married each other
and lived together as young married folks.  One day
frederick said, I will now go and plough, catherine, when
I come back, there must be some roast meat on the table for
hunger, and a fresh draught for thirst.  Just go, frederick,
answered kate, just go, I will have all ready for you.  So when
dinner-time drew near she got a sausage out of the chimney, put
it in the frying-pan, put some butter to it, and set it on the
fire.  The sausage began to fry and to hiss, catherine stood
beside it and held the handle of the pan, and had her own
thoughts as she was doing it.  Then it occurred to her, while
the sausage is getting done you could go into the cellar and draw
beer.  So she set the frying-pan safely on the fire, took a can,
and went down into the cellar to draw beer.  The beer ran
into the can and kate watched it, and then she thought, oh,
dear.  The dog upstairs is not fastened up, it might get the
sausage out of the pan.  Lucky I thought of it.  And in a trice
she was up the cellar-steps again, but the spitz had the sausage
in its mouth already, and trailed it away on the ground.  But
catherine, who was not idle, set out after it, and chased it a
long way into the field, the dog, however, was swifter than
catherine and did not let the sausage go, but skipped over
the furrows with it.  What's gone is gone, said kate, and
turned round, and as she had run till she was weary, she walked
quietly and comfortably, and cooled herself.  During this time
the beer was still running out of the cask, for kate had not
turned the tap.  And when the can was full and there was no
other place for it, it ran into the cellar and did not stop until
the whole cask was empty.  As soon as kate was on the steps she
saw the accident.  Good
gracious, she cried.  What shall I do now to stop frederick
finding out.  She thought for a while, and at last she remembered
that up in the garret was still standing a sack of the finest
wheat flour from the last fair, and she would fetch that down and
strew it over the beer.  Yes, said she, he who saves a thing
when he ought, has it afterwards when he needs it, and she climbed
up to the garret and carried the sack below, and threw it straight
down on the can of beer, which she knocked over, and frederick's
draught swam also in the cellar.  It is all right, said kate,
where the one is the other ought to be also, and she strewed
the meal over the whole cellar.  When it was done she was heartily
delighted with her work, and said, how clean and wholesome it does
look here.  At mid-day home came frederick, now, wife, what
have you ready for me.  Ah, freddy, she answered, I was frying
a sausage for you, but whilst I was drawing the beer to drink
with it, the dog took it away out of the pan, and whilst I was
running after the dog, all the beer ran out, and whilst I was
drying up the beer with the flour, I knocked over the can as
well, but be easy, the cellar is quite dry again.  Said
frederick, kate, kate, you should not have done that, to let
the sausage be carried off and the beer run out of the cask,
and throw out all our flour into the bargain.  Well, frederick,
I did not know that, you should have told me.  The man thought,
if this is the kind of wife I have, I had better take more care
of things.  Now he had saved up a good number of talers
which he changed into gold, and said to catherine, look,
these are yellow counters for playing games, I will put
them in a pot and bury them in the stable under the cow's manger,
but mind you keep away from them, or it will be the worse for
you.  Said she, oh, no, frederick, I certainly will not go
near them.  And when frederick was gone some pedlars came into
the village who had cheap earthen bowls and pots, and asked
the young woman if there was nothing she wanted to bargain with
them for.  Oh, dear people, said catherine, I have no money
and can buy nothing, but if you have any use for yellow
counters I will buy of you.  Yellow counters, why not.  But
just let us see them.  Then go into the stable and
dig under the cow's manger, and you will find the yellow
counters.  I am not allowed to go there.  The rogues went
thither, dug and found pure gold.  Then they laid hold of it,
ran away, and left their pots and bowls behind in the house.
Catherine though she must use her new things, and as she had
no lack in the kitchen already without these, she knocked the
bottom out of every pot, and set them all as ornaments on the
paling which went round about the house.  When frederick came
and saw the new decorations, he said, catherine, what have you
been about.  I have bought them, frederick, for the counters
which were under the cow's manger.  I did not go there myself,
the pedlars had to dig them out for themselves.  Ah, wife,
said frederick, what have you done.  Those were not counters,
but pure gold, and all our wealth, you should not have done that.
Indeed, frederick, said she, I did not know that, you should
have forewarned me.
Catherine stood for a while and wondered, then she said,
listen, frederick, we will soon get the gold back again, we
will run after the thieves.  Come, then, said frederick, we
will try it, but take with you some butter and cheese that we may
have something to eat on the way.  Yes, frederick, I will take
them.  They set out, and as frederick was the better walker,
catherine followed him.  It is to my advantage, thought she,
when we turn back I shall be a little way in advance.  Then
she came to a hill where there were deep ruts on both sides
of the road.  There one can see, said catherine, how they
have torn and skinned and galled the poor earth, it will never
be whole again as long as it lives, and in her heart's
compassion she took her butter and smeared the ruts right
and left, that they might not be so hurt by the wheels, and as
she was thus bending down in her charity, one of the cheeses
rolled out of her pocket down the hill.  Said catherine, I
have made my way once up here, I will not go down again, another
may run and fetch it back.  So she took another cheese and rolled
it down.  But the cheeses did not come back, so she let a third
run down, thinking.  Perhaps they are waiting for company, and
do not like to walk alone.  As all three stayed away she said,
I do not know what that
can mean, but it may perhaps be that the third has not found
the way, and has gone wrong, I will just send the fourth to
call it.  But the fourth did no better than the third.  Then
catherine was angry, and threw down the fifth and sixth as
well, and these were her last.  She remained standing for some
time watching for their coming, but when they still did not come,
she said, oh, you are good folks to send in search of death,
you stay a fine long time away.  Do you think I will wait any
longer for you.  I shall go my way, you may run after me,
you have younger legs than I.  Catherine went on and found
frederick, who was standing waiting for her because he wanted
something to eat.  Now just let us have what you have brought
with you, said he.  She gave him the dry bread.  Where have
you the butter and the cheeses, asked the man.  Ah, freddy,
said catherine, I smeared the cart-ruts with the butter and
the cheeses will come soon, one ran away from me, so I sent
the others after to call it.  Said frederick, you should not
have done that, catherine, to smear the butter on the road,
and let the cheeses run down the hill.  Really, frederick,
you should have told me.
Then they ate the dry bread together, and frederick said,
catherine, did you make the house safe when you came away.
No, frederick, you should have told me to do it before.  Then
go home again, and make the house safe before we go any farther,
and bring with you something else to eat.  I will wait here
for you.  Catherine went back and thought, frederick wants
something more to eat, he does not like butter and cheese, so I
will take with me a handkerchief full of dried pears and
a pitcher of vinegar for him to drink.  Then she bolted the
upper half of the door fast, but unhinged the lower door, and
took it on her back, believing that when she had placed the
door in security the house must be well taken care of.  Catherine
took her time on the way, and thought, frederick will rest
himself so much the longer.  When she had once reached him she
said, here is the house-door for you, frederick, and now you
can take care of the house yourself.  Oh, heavens, said he, what
a wise wife I have.  She takes the under-door
off the hinges that everything may run in, and bolts the
upper one.  It is now too late to go back home again, but
since you have brought the door here, you shall just carry it
farther.  I will carry the door, frederick, but the dried pears
and the vinegar-jug will be too heavy for me, I will hang them
on the door, it may carry them.
And now they went into the forest, and sought the rogues, but
did not find them.  At length as it grew dark they climbed into
a tree and resolved to spend the night there.  Scarcely, however,
had they sat down at the top of it than the rascals came thither
who carry away with them what does not want to go, and find
things before they are lost.  They sat down under the very tree
in which frederick and catherine were sitting, lighted a fire,
and were about to share their booty.  Frederick got down on the
other side and collected
some stones together.  Then he climbed up again with them, and
wished to throw them at the thieves and kill them.  The stones,
however, did not hit them, and the knaves cried, it will soon
be morning, the wind is shaking down the fir-cones.  Catherine
still had the door on her back, and as it pressed so heavily on
her, she thought it was the fault of the dried pears, and said,
frederick, I must throw the pears down.  No, catherine, not now,
he replied, they might betray us.  Oh, but, frederick, I must.
They weigh me down far too much.  Do it, then, and be hanged.
Then the dried pears rolled down between the branches, and the
rascals below said, those are birds, droppings.
A short time afterwards, as the door was still heavy, catherine
said, ah, frederick, I must pour out the vinegar.  No, catherine,
you must not, it might betray us.  Ah, but, frederick, I must,
it weighs me down far too much.  Then do it and be hanged.
So she emptied out the vinegar, and it spattered over the
robbers.  They said amongst themselves, the dew is already
falling.  At length catherine thought, can it really be the
door which weighs me down so, and said, frederick, I must
throw the door down.  No, not now, catherine, it might betray us.
Oh, but, frederick, I must.  It weighs me down far too much.  Oh,
no, catherine, do hold it fast.  Ah, frederick, I am letting it
fall.  Let it go, then, in the devil's name.  Then it fell down
with a violent clatter, and the rascals below cried, the devil is
coming down the tree, and they ran away and left everything behind
them.  Early next morning, when the two came down they found all
their gold again, and carried it home.
When they were once more at home, frederick said, and now,
catherine, you, too, must be industrious and work.  Yes,
frederick, I will soon do that, I will go into the field and
cut corn.  When catherine got into the field, she said to
herself, shall I eat before I cut, or shall I sleep before I
cut.  Oh, I will eat first.  Then catherine ate and eating made
her sleepy, and she began to cut, and half in a dream cut all her
clothes to pieces, her apron, her gown, and her shift.  When
catherine awoke again after a long sleep she was standing
there half-naked, and said to herself, is it I, or is it not
I.  Alas, it is not I.  In the meantime night came, and catherine
ran into the village, knocked at her husband's window, and cried,
frederick.
What is the matter.  I should very much like to know if catherine
is in.  Yes, yes, replied frederick, she must be in and asleep.
Said she, that's all right, then I am certainly at home already,
and ran away.
Outside catherine found some vagabonds who were going to steal.
Then she went to them and said, I will help you to steal.  The
rascals thought that she knew what opportunities the place
offered, and were willing.  Catherine went in front of the houses,
and cried, good folks, have you anything.  We want to steal.
The thieves thought to themselves, that's a fine way of doing
things, and wished themselves once more rid of catherine.  Then
they said to her, outside the village the pastor has some turnips
in the field.  Go there and pull up some turnips for us.
Catherine went to the ground, and began to pull them up, but
was so lazy that she never stood up straight.  Then a man came
by, saw her, and stood still and thought that it was the devil
who was thus rooting amongst the turnips.  He ran away into the
village to the pastor, and said, mr. Pastor, the devil is in
your turnip-ground, rooting up turnips.  Ah, heavens, answered
the pastor, I have a lame foot, I cannot go out and drive him
away.  Said the man, then I will carry you on my back, and he
carried him out on his back.  And when they came to the ground,
catherine arose and stood up her full height.  Ah, the devil,
cried the pastor, and both hurried away, and in his great
fright the pastor could run better with his lame foot than the
man who had carried him on his back could do on his sound legs.
There was a certain village wherein no one lived but really rich
peasants, and just one poor one, whom they called the little
peasant.  He had not even so much as a cow, and still less money
to buy one, and yet he and his wife did so wish to have one.  One
day he said to her, listen, I have a good idea, there is our
gossip the carpenter, he shall make us a wooden calf, and paint it
brown, so that it looks like any other, and in time it will
certainly get big and be a cow.  The woman also liked the idea, and
their gossip the carpenter cut and planed the calf, and painted
it as it ought to be, and made it with its head hanging down as
if it were eating.
Next morning when the cows were being driven out, the little
peasant called the cow-herd and said, look, I have a little calf
there, but it is still small and has to be carried.  The cow-herd
said, all right, and took it in his arms and carried it to the
pasture, and set it among the grass.  The little calf always
remained standing like one which was eating, and the cow-herd said,
it will soon run by itself, just look how it eats already.  At
night when he was going to drive the herd home again, he said to
the calf, if you can stand there and eat your fill, you can also
go on your four legs.  I don't care to drag you home again in
my arms.  But the little peasant stood at his door, and waited for
his little calf, and when the cow-herd drove the cows through
the village, and the calf was
missing, he inquired where it was.  The cow-herd answered, it is
still standing out there eating.  It would not stop and come
with us.  But the little peasant said, oh, but I must have my
beast back again.  Then they went back to the meadow together,
but someone had stolen the calf, and it was gone.  The cow-herd
said, it must have run away.  The peasant, however, said, don't
tell me that, and led the cow-herd before the mayor, who for his
carelessness condemned him to give the peasant a cow for the
calf which had run away.
And now the little peasant and his wife had the cow for which
they had so long wished, and they were heartily glad, but they
had no food for it, and could give it nothing to eat, so it
soon had to be killed.  They salted the flesh, and the peasant went
into the town and wanted to sell the skin there, so that he might
buy a new calf with the proceeds.  On the way he passed by a mill,
and there sat a raven with broken wings, and out of pity he took
him and wrapped him in the skin.  But as the weather grew so
bad and there was a storm of rain and wind, he could go no farther,
and turned back to the mill and begged for shelter.  The miller's
wife was alone in the house, and said to the peasant, lay yourself
on the straw there, and gave him a slice of bread and cheese.  The
peasant ate it, and lay down with his skin beside him, and the
woman thought, he is tired and has gone to sleep.  In the
meantime came the parson.  The miller's wife received him well,
and said, my husband is out, so we will have a feast.  The
peasant listened, and when he heard them talk about feasting
he was vexed that he had been forced to make shift with a slice
of bread and cheese.  Then the woman served up four different
things, roast meat, salad, cakes, and wine.
Just as they were about to sit down and eat, there was a knocking
outside.  The woman said, oh, heavens.  It is my husband.  She
quickly hid the roast meat inside the tiled stove, the wine
under the pillow, the salad on the bed, the cakes under it, and
the parson in the closet on the porch.  Then she opened the
door for her husband, and said, thank heaven, you are back
again.  There is such a storm, it looks as if the world were
coming to an end.  The miller
saw the peasant lying on the straw, and asked, what is that
fellow doing there.  Ah, said the wife, the poor knave came in
the storm and rain, and begged for shelter, so I gave him a bit
of bread and cheese, and showed him where the straw was.  The man
said, I have no objection, but be quick and get me something to
eat.  The woman said, but I have nothing but bread and cheese.  I
am contented with anything, replied the husband, so far as I am
concerned, bread and cheese will do, and looked at the peasant
and said, come and eat some more with me.  The peasant did not
require to be invited twice, but got up and ate.  After this the
miller saw the skin in which the raven was, lying on the ground,
and asked, what have you there.  The peasant answered, I have a
soothsayer inside it.  Can he foretell anything to me, said the
miller.  Why not, answered the peasant, but he only says four
things, and the fifth he keeps to himself.  The miller was curious,
and said, let him foretell something for once.  Then the peasant
pinched the raven's head, so that he croaked and made a noise
like krr, krr.  The miller said, what did he say.  The peasant
answered, in the first place, he says that there is some wine
hidden under the pillow.  Bless me, cried the miller, and went
there and found the wine.  Now go on, said he.  The peasant
made the raven croak again, and said, in the second place, he
says that there is some roast meat in the tiled stove.  Upon my
word, cried the miller, and went thither, and found the roast
meat.  The peasant made the raven prophesy still more, and said,
thirdly, he says that there is some salad on the bed.  That
would be a fine thing, cried the miller, and went there and found
the salad.  At last the peasant pinched the raven once more till
he croaked, and said, fourthly, he says that there are some
cakes under the bed.  That would be a fine thing, cried the
miller, and looked there, and found the cakes.
And now the two sat down to the table together, but the miller's
wife was frightened to death, and went to bed and took all the
keys with her.  The miller would have liked much to know the
fifth, but the little peasant said, first, we will quickly
eat the four things, for the fifth is something bad.  So they
ate, and after that they
bargained how much the miller was to give for the fifth prophesy,
until they agreed on three hundred talers.  Then the peasant
once more pinched the raven's head till he croaked loudly.  The
miller asked, what did he say.  The peasant replied, he says that
the devil is hiding outside there in the closet on the porch.
The miller said, the devil must go out, and opened the house-door.
Then the woman was forced to give up the keys, and the peasant
unlocked the closet.  The parson ran out as fast as he could, and
the miller said, it was true.  I saw the black rascal with my own
eyes.  The peasant, however, made off next morning by daybreak
with the three hundred talers.
At home the small peasant gradually launched out.  He built a
beautiful house, and the peasants said, the small peasant has
certainly been to the place where golden snow falls, and people
carry the gold home in shovels.  Then the small peasant was
brought before the mayor, and bidden to say from whence his
wealth came.  He answered, I sold my cow's skin in the town, for
three hundred talers.  When the peasants heard that, they too
wished to enjoy this great profit, and ran home, killed all their
cows, and stripped off their skins in order to sell them in the
town to the greatest advantage.  The mayor, however, said, but
my servant must go first.  When she came to the merchant in the
town, he did not give her more than two talers for a skin, and
when the others came, he did not give them so much, and said,
what can I do with all these skins.
Then the peasants were vexed that the small peasant should have
thus outwitted them, wanted to take vengeance on him, and accused
him of this treachery before the mayor.  The innocent little
peasant was unanimously sentenced to death, and was to be rolled
into the water, in a barrel pierced full of holes.  He was led
forth, and a priest was brought who was to say a mass for his
soul.  The others were all obliged to retire to a distance, and
when the peasant looked at the priest, he recognized the man who
had been with the miller's wife.  He said to him, I set you free
from the closet, set me free from the barrel.  At this same
moment up came, with a flock of sheep, the very shepherd whom
the peasant knew had long been wishing to be mayor, so he cried
with all his might, no, I will not do it.  If the whole world
insists on it, I will not do it.  The shepherd hearing that,
came up to him, and asked, what are you about.  What is it that
you will not do.  The peasant said, they want to make me mayor,
if I will but put myself in the barrel, but I will not do it.
The shepherd said, if nothing more than that is needful in order
to be mayor, I would get into the barrel at once.  The peasant
said, if you will get in, you will be mayor.  The shepherd was
willing, and got in, and the peasant shut the top down on him.
Then he took the shepherd's flock for himself, and drove it away.
The parson went to the crowd, and declared that the mass had
been said.  Then they came and rolled the barrel towards the
water.  When the barrel began to roll, the shepherd cried, I am
quite willing to be mayor.  They believed no otherwise than that
it was the peasant who was saying this, and answered, that is
what we intend, but first you shall look about you a little
down below there, and they rolled the barrel down into the water.
After that the peasants went home, and as they were entering
the village, the small peasant also came quietly in, driving a
flock of sheep and looking quite contented.  Then the peasants
were astonished, and said, peasant, from whence do you come.
Have you come out of the water.  Yes, truly, replied the
peasant, I sank deep, deep down, until at last I got to the bottom.
I pushed the bottom out of the barrel, and crept out, and there
were pretty meadows
on which a number of lambs were feeding, and from thence I
brought this flock away with me.  Said the peasants, are there
any more.  Oh, yes, said he, more than I could want.  Then
the peasants made up their minds that they too would fetch some
sheep for themselves, a flock apiece, but the mayor said, I
come first.  So they went to the water together, and just then
there were some of the small fleecy clouds in the blue sky, which
are called little lambs, and they were reflected in the water,
whereupon the peasants cried, we already see the sheep down
below.  The mayor pressed forward and said, I will go down first,
and look about me, and if things promise well I'll call you.
So he jumped in.  Splash, went the water.  It sounded as if
he were calling them, and the whole crowd plunged in after
him as one man.  Then the entire village was dead, and the
small peasant, as sole heir, became a rich man.
There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and dense
forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all
alone.  In the day-time she changed herself into a car or a
screech-owl, but in the evening she took her proper shape
again as a human being.  She could lure wild beasts and birds
to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted them.  If
anyone came within one hundred paces of the castle he was
obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until
she bade him be free.  But whenever an innocent maiden came
within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her
up in a wicker-work cage, and carried the cage into a room in the
castle.  She had about seven thousand cages of rare birds in
the castle.
Now, there was once a maiden who was called jorinda, who was
fairer than all other girls.  She and a handsome youth named
joringel had promised to marry each other.  They were still in
the days of betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being
together.  One day in order that they might be able to talk
together in peace they went for a walk in the forest.  Take
care, said joringel, that you do not go too near the castle.
It was a beautiful evening.  The sun shone brightly between
the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and
the turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the beech trees.
Jorinda wept now and then.  She sat down in the sunshine and
was sorrowful.  Joringel was sorrowful too.  They were as
sad as if they were about to die.  Then they looked around them,
and were quite at a loss, for they did not know by which way
they should go home.  The sun was still half above the
mountain and half under.
Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the
castle close at hand.  He was horror-stricken and filled with
deadly fear.  Jorinda was singing,
          my little bird, with the necklace red,
          sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
          he sings that the dove must soon be dead,
          sings sorrow, sor - jug, jug, jug.
Joringel looked for jorinda.  She was changed into a nightingale,
and sang, jug, jug, jug.  A screech-owl with glowing eyes
flew three times round about her, and three times cried, to-whoo,
to-whoo, to-whoo.
Joringel could not move.  He stood there like a stone, and
could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.
The sun had now set.  The owl flew into the thicket, and directly
afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow
and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of
which reached to her chin.  She muttered to herself, caught the
nightingale, and took it away in her hand.
Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot.  The
nightingale was gone.  At last the woman came back, and said
in a hollow voice, greet you, zachiel.  If the moon shines on
the cage, zachiel, let him loose at once.  Then joringel was
freed.  He fell on his knees before the woman and begged that
she would give him back his jorinda, but she said that he
should never have her again, and went away.  He called, he wept,
he lamented, but all in vain, hooh, what is to become of me.
Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village, where
he kept sheep for a long time.  He often walked round and round
the castle, but not too near to it.  At last he dreamt one
night that he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of
which was a beautiful large pearl.  That he picked the flower
and went with it to the castle, and that everything he touched
with the flower was freed from enchantment.  He also dreamt
that by means of it he recovered his jorinda.
In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and
dale for such a flower.  He sought until the ninth day, and then,
early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower.  In the
middle of it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest
pearl.
Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle.  When
he was within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but
walked on to the door.  Joringel was full of joy.  He touched the
door with the flower, and it sprang open.  He walked in through
the courtyard, and listened for the sound of the birds.  At
last he heard it.  He went on and found the room from whence it
came, and there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven
thousand cages.
When she saw joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded
and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not come within
two paces of him.  He did not take any notice of her, but went
and looked at the cages with the birds.  But there were many
hundred nightingales, how was he to find his jorinda again.
Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with
a bird in it, and go towards the door.
Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower,
and also the old woman.  She could now no longer bewitch anyone.
And jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck,
and she was as beautiful as ever.  Then all the other birds
were turned into maidens again, and he went home with his jorinda,
and they lived happily together for a long time.
Once upon a time the fox was talking to the wolf of the
strength of man.  How no animal could withstand him, and how
all were obliged to emply cunning in order to protect themselves
from him.  Then the wolf answered, if I had but the chance of
seeing a man for once, I would set on him notwithstanding.
I can help you to do that, said the fox.  Come to me early
to-morrow morning, and I will show you one.  The wolf presented
himself betimes, and the fox took him out on the road by which
the huntsmen went daily.  First came an old discharged soldier.
Is that a man, inquired the wolf.  No, answered the fox, that
was one.  Afterwards came a little boy who was going to school.
Is that a man.  No, that will be one.  At length came a
hunter with his double-barelled gun at his back, and hanger by
his side.  Said the fox to the wolf, look, there comes a man,
you must attack him, but I will take myself off to my hole.  The
wolf then rushed on the man.  When the huntsman saw him he
said, it is a pity that I have not loaded with a bullet, aimed,
and fired his small shot in his face.  The wolf pulled a very
wry grimace, but did not let himself be frightened, and attacked
him again, on which the huntsman gave him the second barrel.  The
wolf swallowed his pain, and rushed on the huntsman, but he
drew out his bright hanger, and gave him a few cuts with it
right and left, so that, bleeding everywhere, he ran howling back
to the fox.  Well, brother wolf, said the fox, how have you
got on with man.  Ah, replied the wolf, I never imagined the
strength of man to be what it is.  First, he took a stick from
his shoulder, and blew into it, and then something flew into
my face which tickled me terribly.  Then he breathed once
more into the stick, and it flew into my nose like lightning and
hail.  When I was quite close, he drew a white rib out of his
body, and he beat me so with it that I was all but left lying
dead.  See what a braggart you are, said the fox.  You throw
your hatchet so far that you cannot fetch it back again.
The wolf had the fox with him, and whatsoever the wolf
wished, that the fox was compelled to do, for he was the
weaker, and he would gladly have been rid of his master.
It chanced that once as they were going through the forest, the wolf
said, red-fox, get me something to eat, or else I will eat
you yourself.  Then the fox answered, I know a farm-yard where
there are two young lambs.  If you are inclined, we will fetch one
of them.  That suited the wolf, and they went thither, and the fox
stole the little lamb, took it to the wolf, and went away.  The
wolf devoured it, but was not satisfied with one.  He wanted the
other as well, and went to get it.  But as he did it so clumsily,
the mother of the little lamb heard him, and began to cry out
terribly, and to bleat so that the farmers came running there.
They found the wolf, and beat him so mercilessly, that he went
to the fox limping and howling.  You have misled me finely, said
he.  I wanted to fetch the other lamb, and the country folks
surprised me, and have beaten me to a jelly.  The fox replied,
why are you such a glutton.
Next day they again went into the country, and the greedy wolf
once more said, red-fox, get me something to eat, or I will
eat you yourself.  Then answered the fox, I know a farm-house
where the wife is baking pancakes to-night.  We will get some
of them for ourselves.  They went there, and the fox slipped
round the house, and peeped and sniffed about until he discovered
where the dish was, and then snatched six pancakes and carried
them to the wolf.
There is something for you to eat, said he to him, and then went
his way.  The wolf swallowed down the pancakes in an instant,
and said, they make one want more, and went thither and tore the
whole dish down so that it broke in pieces.  This made such
a great noise that the woman came out, and when she saw the
wolf she called the people, who hurried there, and beat him as
long as their sticks would hold together, till with two lame
legs, and howling loudly, he returned to the fox in the forest.
How abominably you have misled me, cried he, the peasants caught
me, and tanned my skin for me.  But the fox replied, why are
you such a glutton.
On the third day, when they were out together, and the wolf
could only limp along painfully, he again said, red-fox, get me
something to eat, or I will eat your yourself.  The fox
answered, I
know a man who has been killing, and the salted meat is lying
in a barrel in the cellar.  We will get that.  Said the wolf, I
will go when you do, that you may help me if I am not able to
get away.  I am willing, said the fox, and showed him the by-paths
and ways by which at length they reached the cellar.  There was
meat in abundance, and the wolf attacked it instantly and thought,
there is plenty of time before I need leave off.  The fox liked
it also, but looked about everywhere, and often ran to the hole
by which they had come in, to find out if his body was still
thin enough to slip through it.  The wolf said, dear fox, tell
me why you are running here and there so much, and jumping in
and out.
I must see that no one is coming, replied the crafty fellow.
Don't eat too much.  Then said the wolf, I shall not leave until
the barrel is empty.  In the meantime the farmer, who had heard
the noise of the fox's jumping, came into the cellar.  When the
fox saw him he was out of the hole at one bound.  The wolf
wanted to follow him, but he had made himself so fat with
eating that he could no longer get through, but stuck fast.  Then
came the farmer with a cudgel and struck him dead, but the fox
bounded into the forest, glad to be rid of the old glutton.
It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she
thought to herself, he is clever and full of experience, and
much esteemed in the world, she spoke to him in a friendly
way.  Good-day, dear mr. Fox, how are you.  How is all with
you.  How are you getting on in these hard times.  The fox,
full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat from head
to foot, and for a long time
did not know whether he would give any answer or not.  At last
he said, oh, you wretched beard-cleaner, you piebald fool, you
hungry mouse-hunter, what can you be thinking of.  Have you the
cheek to ask how I am getting on.  What have you learnt.  How
many arts do you understand.  I understand but one, replied
the cat, modestly.  What art is that, asked the fox.  When
the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and
save myself.  Is that all, said the fox.  I am master of a
hundred arts, and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning.
You make me sorry for you.  Come with me, I will teach you
how people get away from the hounds.  Just then came a hunter
with four dogs.  The cat sprang nimbly up a tree, and sat
down on top of it, where the branches and foliage quite
concealed her.  Open your sack, mr. Fox, open your sack, cried
the cat to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and
were holding him fast.  Ah, mr. Fox, cried the cat.  You with
your hundred arts are left in the lurch.  Had you been able
to climb like me, you would not have lost your life.
There was once a cook named Gretel, who wore shoes with
red heels, and when she walked out with them on, she
turned herself this way and that, was quite happy and
thought, you certainly are a pretty girl.  And when she
came home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of
wine, and
as wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever
she was cooking until she was satisfied, and said, the cook
must know what the food is like.
It came to pass that the master one day said to her, Gretel,
there is a guest coming this evening.  Prepare me two fowls
very daintily.  I will see to it, master, answered Gretel.
She killed two fowls, scalded them, plucked them, put them on
the spit, and towards evening set them before the fire, that
they might roast.  The fowls began to turn brown, and were
nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived.  Then Gretel
called out to her master, if the guest does not come, I must
take the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a
shame if they are not eaten the moment they are at their
juiciest.  The master said, I will run myself, and fetch
the guest.  When the master had turned his back, Gretel laid
the spit with the fowls on one side, and thought, standing
so long by the fire there, makes one sweat and thirsty.  Who
knows when they will come.  Meanwhile, I will run into the
cellar, and take a drink.  She ran down, set a jug, said,
God bless it for you, Gretel, and took a good drink, and
thought that wine should flow on, and should not be interrupted,
and took yet another hearty draught.
Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted
them, and drove the spit merrily round.  But as the roast
meat smelt so good, Gretel thought, something must be wrong,
it ought to be tasted.  She touched it with her finger, and
said, ah, how good fowls are.  It certainly is a sin and a
shame that they are not eaten
at the right time.  She ran to the window, to see if the
master was not coming with his guest, but she saw no one, and
went back to the fowls and thought, one of the wings is burning.
I had better take it off and eat it.  So she cut it off, ate it,
and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she thought, the other
must go down too, or else master will observe that something is
missing.  When the two wings were eaten, she went and looked
for her master, and did not see him.  It suddenly occurred to
her, who knows.  They are perhaps not coming at all, and have
turned in somewhere.  Then she said, well, Gretel, enjoy
yourself, one fowl has been cut into, take another drink, and
eat it up entirely.  When it is eaten you will have some peace,
why should God's good gifts be spoilt.  So she ran
into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the
one chicken in great glee.  When one of the chickens was
swallowed down, and still her master did not come, Gretel
looked at the other and said, where one is, the other should
be likewise, the two go together.  What's right for the one is
right for the other.  I think if I were to take another
draught it would do me no harm.  So she took another hearty
drink, and let the second chicken follow the first.
While she was making the most of it, her master came and cried,
hurry up, Gretel, the guest is coming directly after me.  Yes,
sir, I will soon serve up, answered Gretel.  Meantime the master
looked to see that the table was properly laid, and took the
great knife, wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and
sharpened it on the steps.  Presently the guest came, and
knocked politely and courteously at the house-door.  Gretel ran,
and looked to see who was there, and when she saw the guest,
she put her finger to her lips and said, hush. Hush.  Go away
as quickly as you can, if my master catches you it will be the
worse for you.  He certainly did ask you to supper, but his
intention is to cut off your two ears.  Just listen how he
is sharpening the knife for it.  The guest heard the sharpening, and
hurried down the steps again as fast as he could.  Gretel was
not idle.  She ran screaming to her master, and cried, you have
invited a fine guest.  Why, Gretel, what do you mean by that.
Yes, said she, he has taken the chickens which I was just
going to serve
up, off the dish, and has run away with them.  That's a nice
trick, said her master, and lamented the fine chickens.  If
he had but left me one, so that something remained for me to
eat.  He called to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to
hear.  Then he ran after him with the knife still in his hand,
crying, just one, just one, meaning that the guest should leave
him just one chicken, and not take both.  The guest, however,
thought no otherwise than that he was to give up one of his
ears, and ran as if fire were burning under him, in order to
take them both home with him.
Once upon a time the little hen went with the little cock
to the nut-hill, and they agreed together that whichsoever of
them found a kernel of a nut should share it with the other.
Then the hen found a large, large nut, but said nothing about
it, intending to eat the kernel herself.  The kernel, however,
was so large that she could not swallow it, and it remained
sticking in her throat, so that she was alarmed lest she should
be choked.  Then she cried, cock, I entreat you to run as fast
as you can and fetch me some water, or I shall choke.  The little
cock did run as fast as he could to the spring, and said, stream,
you are to give me some water, the little hen is lying on the
nut-hill, and she has swallowed a large nut, and is choking.  The
well answered, first run to the bride, and get her to give you
some red silk.  The little cock ran to the bride and said, bride,
you are to give me some red silk, I want to give red silk to the
well, the well is to give me some water, I am to take the water
to the little hen who is lying on the nut-hill and has
swallowed a great nut-kernel, and is choking with it.  The bride
answered, first run and bring me my little wreath which is
hanging to a willow.  So the little cock ran to the willow, and
drew the wreath from the branch and took it to the bride, and
the bride gave him some red silk for it, which he took to the
well, who gave him some water for it.  Then the little cock took
the water to the hen, but when he got there the hen had choked in
the meantime, and lay there dead and did not move.  Then the
cock was so distressed that he cried aloud, and every animal
came to lament the little hen, and six mice built a little
carriage to carry her to her grave, and when the carriage was
ready they harnessed themselves to it, and the cock drove.  On
the way, however, they met the fox, who said, where are you
going, little cock.  I am going to bury my little hen.  May
I drive with you.  Yes, but seat yourself at the back of the
carriage, for in the front my little horses could not drag you.
Then the procession went onwards, and they reached a stream.
How are we to cross over, said the little cock.  A straw was
lying by the stream and it said, I will lay myself straight
across, and then you
can drive over me.  But when the six mice came to the bridge,
the straw slipped and fell into the water, and the six mice
all fell in and were drowned.  Then they were again in difficulty,
and a coal came and said, I am large enough, I will lay myself
across, and you shall drive over me.  So the coal also laid
itself across the water, but unhappily just touched it, at which
the coal hissed, was extinguished and died.  When a stone saw
that, it took pity on the little cock, wished to help him, and
laid itself over the water.  Then the cock drew the carriage
himself, but when he got it over and reached the shore with the
dead hen, and was about to draw over the others who were sitting
behind as well, there were too many of them, the carriage ran
back, and they all fell into the water together, and were drowned.
Then the little cock was left alone with the dead hen, and dug a
grave for her and laid her in it, and made a mound above it, on
which he sat down and fretted until he died too, and then everyone
was dead.
Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but gamble, and
for that reason people never called him anything but gambling
Hansel, and as he never ceased to gamble, he played away his house
and all that he had.  Now the very day before his creditors were
to take his house from him, came the Lord and St. Peter, and
asked him to give them shelter for the night.  Then gambling Hansel
said, for my part, you may stay the night, but I cannot give you
a bed or anything to eat.  So the Lord said he was just to take
them in, and they themselves would buy something to eat, to which
gambling Hansel made no objection.  Thereupon St. Peter gave him
three groschen, and said he was to go to the baker's and fetch
some bread.  So gambling Hansel went, but when he reached the house
where the other gambling vagabonds were gathered together, they,
although they had won all that he had, greeted him clamorously,
and said, Hansel, do come in.  Oh, said he, do you want to win
three groschen too.  On this they would not let him go.  So he
went in, and played away the three groschen also.  Meanwhile
St. Peter and the Lord were waiting, and as he was so long in
coming, they set out to meet him.  When gambling Hansel came,
however, he pretended that the money had fallen into the gutter,
and kept raking about in it all the while to find it, but
our Lord already
knew that he had lost it in play.  St. Peter again gave him
three groschen, and now he did not allow himself to be led away
once more, but fetched them the loaf.  Our Lord then inquired if
he had no wine, and he said, alack, sir, the casks are all empty.
But the Lord said he was to go down into the cellar, for the best
wine was still there.  For a long time he would not believe
this, but at length he said, well, I will go down, but I know
that there is none there.  When he turned the tap, however, lo
and behold, the best of wine ran out.  So he took it to them, and
the two passed the night there.  Early next day our Lord told
gambling Hansel that he might beg three favors.  The Lord
expected that he would ask to go to heaven, but gambling Hansel
asked for a pack of cards with which he could win everything,
for dice with which he would win everything, and for a tree
whereon every kind of fruit would grow, and from which no one who
had climbed up, could descend until he bade him do so.  The Lord
gave him all that he had asked, and departed with St. Peter.
And now gambling Hansel at once set about gambling in real
earnest, and before long he had gained half the world.  Upon this
St. Peter said to the Lord, Lord, this thing must not go on, at
last he will win the whole world.  We must send death to him.
And they sent death to him.  When death appeared, gambling Hansel
had just seated himself at the gaming-table, and death said,
Hansel, come out a while.  But gambling Hansel said, just wait
a little until the game is done, and in the meantime get up into
that tree out there, and gather a little fruit that we may have
something to munch on our way.  Thereupon death climbed up, but
when he wanted to come down again, he could not, and gambling
Hansel left him up there for seven years, during which time no one
died.
So St. Peter said to the Lord, Lord, this thing must not go on.
People no longer die, we must go ourselves.  And they went
themselves, and the Lord commanded Hansel to let death come down.
So Hansel went at once to death and said to him, come down, and
death took him directly and put an end to him.  They went away
together and came to the next world, and then gambling
Hansel made straight for the door of heaven, and knocked at it.
Who is there.  Gambling Hansel.  Ah, we will have nothing to do
with him.  Begone.  So he went to the door of purgatory, and
knocked once more.  Who is there.  Gambling Hansel.  Ah, there is
quite enough weeping and wailing here without him.  We do not
want to gamble, just go away again.  Then he went to the door of
hell, and there they let him in.  There was, however, no one at
home but old lucifer and the crooked devils - the straight ones
were just busy in the world.  And no sooner was Hansel there than
he sat down to gamble again.  Lucifer, however, had nothing to
lose, but his mis-shapen devils, and gambling Hansel won them
from him, as with his cards he could not fail to do.  And now he
was off again with his crooked devils, and they went to hohenfurt
and pulled up a hop-pole, and with it went to heaven and began to
thrust the pole against it, and heaven began to crack.  So again
St. Peter said, Lord, this thing cannot go on, we must let him
in, or he will overthrow the whole heaven.  And they let him in.
But gambling Hansel instantly began to play again, and there was
such a noise and confusion that there was no hearing what they
themselves were saying.  Therefore St. Peter once more said,
Lord, this cannot go on, we must throw him down, or he will make
all heaven rebellious.  So they went to him at once, and threw
him down, and his soul broke into fragments, and went into the
gambling vagabonds who are living this very day.
The fox once came to a meadow in which sat a flock of fine fat
geese, on which he smiled and said, I come in the nick of time,
you are sitting together quite beautifully, so that I can eat you
up one after the other.  The geese cackled with terror, sprang
up, and began to wail and beg piteously for their lives.  But
the fox would listen to nothing, and said, there is no mercy
to be had.  You must die.  At length one of them took heart and
said,  if we poor geese are to yield up our lives, show us the
only possible favor and allow us one more prayer, that we may
not die in our sins, and then we will place ourselves in a row,
so that you can always pick yourself out the fattest.  Yes,
said the fox, that is reasonable, and a pious request.  Pray
away, I will wait till you are done.  Then the first began a
good long prayer, for ever saying, ga, ga, and as she would
make no end, the second did not wait until her turn came, but
began also, ga, ga.  The third
and fourth followed her, and soon they were all cackling
together.
When they have done praying, the story shall be continued further,
but at present they are still praying unceasingly.
In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on
this earth amongst men, it once happened that he was tired and
overtaken by the darkness before he could reach an inn.  Now
there stood on the road before him two houses facing each other,
the one large and beautiful, the other small and poor.  The
large one belonged to a rich man, and the small one to a poor
man.
Then the Lord thought, I shall be no burden to the rich man.
I will stay the night with him.  Then the rich man heard someone
knocking at his door, he opened the window and asked the stranger
what he wanted.  The Lord answered, I only ask for a night's
lodging.
Then the rich man looked at the traveler from head to foot, and
as the Lord was wearing common clothes, and did not look like
one who had much money in his pocket, he shook his head, and
said, no, I cannot take you in, my rooms are full of herbs and
seeds.  And if I were to lodge everyone who knocked at my door,
I might very soon go begging myself.  Go somewhere else for
a lodging, and with this he shut down the window and left the
Lord standing there.
So the Lord turned his back on the rich man, and went across
to the small house and knocked.  He had hardly done so when
the poor man opened the little door and bade the traveler
come in.  Pass the night with me, it is already dark, said he.
You cannot go any further to-night.  This pleased the Lord,
and he went in.  The poor man's wife shook hands with him,
and welcomed him, and said he
was to make himself at home and put up with what they had got.
They had not much to offer him, but what they had they would
give him with all their hearts.  Then she put the potatoes on
the fire, and while they were boiling, she milked the goat,
that they might have a little milk with them.  When the
cloth was laid, the Lord sat down with the man and his wife,
and he enjoyed their coarse food, for there were happy faces
at the table.  When they had had supper and it was bed-time,
the woman called her husband apart and said, listen, dear
husband, let us make up a bed of straw for ourselves to-night,
and then the poor traveler can sleep in our bed and have a
good rest, for he has been walking the whole day through,
and that makes one weary.  With all my heart, he answered,
I will go and offer it to him.  And he went to the stranger
and invited him, if he had no objection, to sleep in their
bed and rest his limbs properly.  But the Lord was unwilling
to take their bed from the two old folks.  However, they
would not be satisfied, until at length he did it and lay
down in their bed, while they themselves lay on some straw
on the ground.
Next morning they got up before daybreak, and made as good a
breakfast as they could for the guest.  When the sun shone in
through the little window, and the Lord had got up, he again
ate with them, and then prepared to set out on his journey.
But as he was standing at the door he turned round and said,
as you are so kind and good, you may wish three things for
yourselves and I will grant them.  Then the man said, what
else should I wish for but eternal happiness, and that we
two, as long as we live, may be healthy and have every day
our daily bread.  For the third wish, I do not know what to
have.  And the Lord said to him, will you wish for a new
house instead of this old one.  Oh, yes, said the man.
If I can have that, too, I should like it very much.  And
the Lord fulfilled his wish, and changed their old house
into a new one, again gave them his blessing, and went on.
The sun was high when the rich man got up and leaned out
of his window and saw, on the opposite side of the way, a
new clean-looking
house with red tiles and bright windows where the old hut
used to be.  He was very much astonished, and called his
wife and said to her, tell me, what can have happened.
Last night there was a miserable little hut standing there,
and to-day there is a beautiful new house.  Run over and see
how that has come to pass.
So his wife went and asked the poor man, and he said to her,
yesterday evening a traveler came here and asked for a
night's lodging, and this morning when he took leave of
us he granted us three wishes - eternal happiness, health
during this life and our daily bread as well, and
besides this, a beautiful new house instead of our old
hut.
When the rich man's wife heard this, she ran back in haste
and told her husband how it had happened.  The man said,
I could tear myself to pieces.  If I had but known that.
That traveler came to our house too, and wanted to sleep
here, and I sent him away.  Quick, said his wife, get on
your horse.  You can still catch the man up, and then you must
ask to have three wishes granted to you also.
The rich man followed the good counsel and galloped away on
his horse, and soon came up with the Lord.  He spoke to him
softly and pleasantly, and begged him not to take it
amiss that he had not let him in directly.  He was looking
for the front-door key, and in the meantime the stranger had
gone away.  If he returned the same way he must come and
stay with him.  Yes, said the Lord.  If I ever come back
again, I will do so.  Then the rich man asked if might not
wish for three things too, as his neighbor had done.
Yes, said the Lord, he might, but it would not be to his
advantage, and he had better not wish for anything.  But
the rich man thought that he could easily ask for something
which would add to his happiness, if he only knew that it would
be granted.  So the Lord said to him, ride home, then, and
three wishes which you shall make, shall be fulfilled.
The rich man had now gained what he wanted, so he rode home,
and began to consider what he should wish for.  As he
was thus
thinking he let the bridle fall, and the horse began to caper
about, so that he was continually disturbed in his meditations,
and could not collect his thoughts at all.  He patted its neck,
and said, gently, lisa, but the horse only began new tricks.
Then at last he was angry, and cried quite impatiently, I wish
your neck was broken.  Directly he had said the words, down the
horse fell on the ground, and there it lay dead and never
moved again.  And thus was his first wish fulfilled.  As he
was miserly by nature, he did not like to leave the harness
lying there.  So he cut it off, and put it on his back.  And
now he had to go on foot.  I have still two wishes left, said
he, and comforted himself with that thought.
And now as he was walking slowly through the sand, and the
sun was burning hot at noon-day, he grew quite bad-tempered
and angry.  The saddle hurt his back, and he had not yet any
idea what to wish for.  If I were to wish for all the riches
and treasures in the world, said he to himself, I should still
to think of all kinds of other things later on.  I know that,
beforehand.  But I will manage so that there is nothing at all
left me to wish for afterwards.  Then he sighed and said, ah,
if I were but that bavarian peasant, who likewise had three
wishes granted to him, and knew quite well what to do, and
in the first place wished for a great deal of beer, and in
the second for as much beer as he was able to drink, and in
the third for a barrel of beer into the bargain.
Many a time he thought he had found it, but then it seemed to
him to be, after all, too little.  Then it came into his
mind, what an easy life his wife had, for she stayed at
home in a cool room and enjoyed herself.  This really did vex
him, and before he was aware, he said, I just wish she was
sitting there on this saddle, and could not get off it,
instead of my having to drag it along on my back.  And as the
last word was spoken, the saddle disappeared from his back,
and he saw that his second wish had been fulfilled.  Then
he really did feel hot.  He began to run and wanted to be quite
alone in his own room at home, to think of something really
big for his last wish.  But when he arrived there and opened
the parlor-door, he
saw his wife sitting in the middle of the room on the saddle,
crying and complaining, and quite unable to get off it.  So
he said, do bear it, and I will wish for all the riches on
earth for you, only stay where you are.  She, however, called
him a fool, and said, what good will all the riches on earth
do me, if I am to sit on this saddle.  You have wished me
on it, so you must help me off.  So whether he would or not,
he was forced to let his third wish be that she should be
quit of the saddle, and able to get off it, and immediately
the wish was fulfilled.  So he got nothing by it but vexation,
trouble, abuse, and the loss of his horse.  But the poor
people lived contentedly, quietly, and piously until their
happy death.
Once upon a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson
of the village had a fancy for the wife, and had wished for
a long while to spend a whole day happily with her.  The
peasant woman, too, was quite willing.  One day, therefore, he
said to the woman, listen, my dear friend, I have now thought of
a way by which we can for once spend a whole day happily together.
I'll tell you what.  On wednesday, you must take to your bed, and
tell your husband you are ill, and as long as you complain and
act being ill properly, and go on doing so until sunday when I
have to preach, I will then say in my sermon that whosoever has
at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father,
a sick mother, a sick brother or whosoever else it may be,
and makes a pilgrimage to the gockerli hill in italy, where
you can get a peck of laurel-leaves for a kreuzer, the sick child,
the sick husband, the sick wife, the sick father, or sick mother,
the sick sister, or whosoever else it may be, will be restored
to health immediately.
I will manage it, said the woman promptly.  On the wednesday,
therefore, the peasant woman took to her bed, and complained and
lamented as agreed on, and her husband did everything for
her that he could think of, but nothing did her any good, and when
sunday came the woman said, I feel as ill as if I were going to
die at once, but there is one thing I should like to do before
my end - I should like to hear the parson's sermon that he is
going to preach to-day.  On that the peasant said, ah, my child,
do not do it - you might make yourself worse if you were to get
up.  Look, I will hear the sermon, and will attend to it very
carefully, and will tell you everything the parson says.
Well, said the woman, go, then, and pay great attention, and
repeat to me all that you hear.  So the peasant heard the sermon,
and the parson said, if any one had at home a sick child, a sick
husband, a sick wife, a sick father a sick mother, a sick sister,
brother or any one else, and would make a pilgimage to the
gockerli hill in italy, where a peck of laurel-leaves costs a
kreuzer, the sick child, sick husband, sick wife, sick father,
sick mother, sick sister, brother, or whosoever else it might
be, would be restored to health instantly, and whosoever wished
to undertake the journey was to go to him after the service was
over, and he would give him the sack for the laurel-leaves and
the kreuzer.  Then no one was more rejoiced than the peasant,
and after the service was over, he went at once to the parson,
who gave him the bag for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer.
After that he went home, and even at the house door he cried,
hurrah.  Dear wife, it is now almost the same thing as if you were
well.  The parson has preached to-day that whosoever had at home
a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father, a sick
mother, a sick sister, brother or whoever it might be, and would
make a pilgrimage to the gockerli hill in italy, where a peck
of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, sick husband,
sick wife, sick father, sick mother, sick sister, brother, or
whosoever else it was, would be cured immediately, and now I
have already got the bag and the kreuzer from the parson, and
will at once begin my journey so that you may get well the faster,
and thereupon he went away.  He was hardly gone however before
the woman got up, and the parson was there immediately.
But now we will leave these two for a while, and follow the
peasant, who walked on quickly without stopping, in order to
get the sooner to the gockerli hill, and on his way he met his
gossip.  His gossip was an egg-merchant, and was just coming
from the market, where he had sold his eggs.  May you be blessed,
said the gossip, where are you off to so fast.
To all eternity, my friend, said the peasant, my wife is ill,
and I have been to-day to hear the parson's sermon, and he
preached that if any one had in his house a sick child, a sick
husband, a sick
wife, a sick father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or any
one else, and made a pilgrimage to the gockerli hill in italy,
where a peck of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, the
sick husband, the sick wife, the sick father, the sick mother,
the sick sister, brother or whosoever else it was, would be
cured immediately, and so I have got the bag for the laurel-leaves
and the kreuzer from the parson, and now I am beginning my
pilgrimage.  But listen, gossip, said the egg-merchant to the
peasant, are you, then, stupid enough to believe such a thing
as that.  Don't you know what it means.  The parson wants to
spend a whole day alone with your wife in peace, so he has given
you this job to do to get you out of the way.
My word, said the peasant.  How I'd like to know if that's true.
Come, then, said the gossip, I'll tell you what to do.  Get
into my egg-basket and I will carry you home, and then you will
see for yourself.  So that was settled, and the gossip put the
peasant into his egg-basket and carried him home.
When they got to the house, hurrah.  Everything was already
very merry there.  The woman had already had nearly everything
killed that was in the farmyard, and had made pancakes, and the
parson was there, and had brought his fiddle with him.  The
gossip knocked at the door, and woman asked who was there.  It
is I, gossip, said the egg-merchant, give me shelter this night.
I have not sold my eggs at the market, so now I have to carry
them home again, and they are so heavy that I shall never be able
to do it, for it is dark already.
Indeed, my friend, said the woman, you come at a very inconvenient
time for me, but as you are here it can't be helped.  Come in,
and take a seat there on the bench by the stove.  Then she
placed the gossip and the basket which he carried on his back on
the bench by the stove.  The parson and the woman, however, were
as merry as could be.  At length the parson said, listen, my
dear friend, you can sing beautifully.  Sing something to me.
Oh, said the woman,
I cannot sing now.  In my young days indeed I could sing well
enough, but that's all over now.
Come, said the parson once more, do sing some little song.
On that the woman began and sang,
          I've sent my husband away from me
          to the gockerli hill in italy.
Thereupon the parson sang,
          I wish 'twas a year before he came back,
          I'd never ask him for the laurel-leaf sack.
          Hallelujah.
Then the gossip who was in the background began to sing -
but I ought to tell you the peasant was called hildebrand -
so the gossip sang,
          what are you doing, my hildebrand dear,
          there on the bench by the stove so near.
          Hallelujah.
And then the peasant sang from his basket,
          all singing I ever shall hate from this day,
          and here in this basket no longer I'll stay.
          Hallelujah.
And he climbed out of the basket, and flogged the parson
out of the house.
There was once upon a time a poor peasant called crabb, who drove
with two oxen a load of wood to the town, and sold it to a doctor
for two talers.  When the money was being counted out to him, it
so happened that the doctor was sitting at table, and when the
peasant saw how well he ate and drank, his heart desired what he
saw, and he would willingly have been a doctor too.  So he
remained standing a while, and at length inquired if he too could
not be a doctor.  Oh, yes, said the doctor, that is soon managed.
What must I do, asked the peasant.  In the first place buy
yourself an abc book of the kind which has a cock on the
frontispiece.  In the second, turn your cart and your two oxen
into money, and get yourself some clothes, and whatsoever else
pertains to medicine.  Thirdly, have a sign painted for yourself
with the words, I am doctor knowall, and have that nailed up above
your house-door.  The peasant did everything that he had been
told to do.  When he had doctored people awhile, but not long, a
rich and great lord had some money stolen.  Then he was told about
doctor knowall who lived in such and such a village, and must know
what had become of the money.  So the lord had the horses
harnessed to his carriage, drove out to the village, and asked
crabb if he were doctor knowall.  Yes, he
was, he said.  Then he was to go with him and bring back the stolen
money.  Oh, yes, but grete, my wife, must go too.  The lord was
willing and let both of them have a seat in the carriage, and
they all drove away together.  When they came to the nobleman's
castle, the table was spread, and crabb was told to sit down and
eat.  Yes, but my wife, grete, too, said he, and he seated himself
with her at the table.  And when the first servant came with a
dish of delicate fare, the peasant nudged his wife, and said,
grete, that was the first.  Meaning that was the servant who
brought the first dish.  The servant, however, thought he
intended by that to say, that is the first thief, and as he
actually was so, he was terrified, and said to his comrade
outside, the doctor knows all, we shall fare ill, he said I was
the first.  The second did not want to go in at all, but was
forced.  So when he went in with his dish, the peasant nudged his
wife, and said, grete, that is the second.  This servant was
equally alarmed, and he got out as fast as he could.  The third
fared no better, for the peasant again said, grete, that is the
third.  The fourth had to carry in a dish that was covered, and the
lord told the doctor that he was to show his skill, and guess
what was beneath the cover.  Actually, there were crabs.  The
doctor looked at the dish, had no idea what to say, and cried,
ah, poor crabb.  When the lord heard that, he cried, there.  He
knows it, he must also know who had the money.
On this the servants looked terribly uneasy, and made a sign
to the doctor that they wished him to step outside for a moment.
When therefore he went out, all four of them confessed to him
that they had stolen the money, and said that they would
willingly restore it and give him a heavy sum into the bargain,
if he would not denounce them, for if he did they would be hanged.
They led him to the spot where the money was concealed.  With
this the doctor was satisfied, and returned to the hall, sat
down to the table, and said, my lord, now will I search in my book
where the gold is hidden.  The fifth servant, however, crept
into the stove to hear if the doctor knew still more.  But the
doctor sat still and opened his abc book, turned the pages
backwards and forwards, and looked for the cock.  As he could not
find it immediately he said, I know you are there, so you had
better come out.  Then the fellow in the stove thought that the
doctor meant him, and full of terror, sprang out, crying, that
man knows everything.  Then Dr. Knowall showed the lord where the
money was, but did not say who had stolen it, and received from
both sides much money in reward, and became a renowned man.
There was once a rich man, who had a servant who served him
diligently and honestly.  He was every morning the first out of
bed, and the last to go to rest at night, and whenever there was
a difficult job to be done, which nobody cared to undertake, he
was always the first to set himself to it.  Moreover, he never
complained, but was contented with everything and always merry.
When a year was ended, his master gave him no wages, for he said
to himself, that is the cleverest way, for I shall save something
and he will not go away, but stay quietly in my service.  The
servant said nothing, but did his work the second year as he had
done it the first, and when at the end of this, likewise, he
received no wages, he submitted and still stayed on.
When the third year also was past, the master considered, put his
hand in his pocket, but pulled nothing out.  Then at last the
servant said, master, for three years I have served you honestly,
be so good as to give me what I ought to have, for I wish to
leave, and look about me a little more in the world.
Yes, my good fellow, answered the old miser, you have served me
industriously, and therefore you shall be graciously rewarded.
And he put his hand into his pocket, but counted out only three
farthings, saying, there, you have a farthing for each year, that
is large and liberal pay, such as you would have received from
few masters.
The honest servant, who understood little about money, put his
fortune into his pocket, and thought, ah, now that I have my
purse full, why need I trouble and plague myself any longer with
hard work.  So on he went, up hill and down dale, and sang and
jumped to his heart's content.  Now it came to pass that as he
was going by a thicket a little man stepped out, and called to
him, whither away, merry brother.  I see you do not carry many
cares.  Why should I be sad, answered the servant, I have enough.
Three years, wages are jingling in my pocket.
How much is your treasure, the dwarf asked him.  How much.  Three
farthings sterling, all told.  Look here, said the dwarf, I am a
poor needy man, give me your three farthings, I can work no longer
but you are young, and can easily earn your bread.
And as the servant had a good heart, and felt pity for the little
man, he gave him the three farthings, saying, take them in the
name of heaven, I shall not be any the worse for it.
Then the little man said, as I see you have a good heart I grant
you three wishes, one for each farthing, they shall all be
fulfilled.  Aha, said the servant, you are one of those who can
work wonders.  Well, then, if it is to be so, I wish, first, for
a gun, which shall hit everything that I aim at, secondly, for a
fiddle, which when
I play on it, shall compel all who hear it to dance, thirdly, that
if I ask a favor of any one he shall not be able to refuse it.
All that shall you have, said the dwarf, and put his hand into the
bush, and just imagine, there lay a fiddle and gun, all ready,
just as if they had been ordered.  These he gave to the servant,
and then said to him, whatever you may ask at any time, no man in
the world shall be able to deny you.
Heart alive.  What more can one desire, said the servant, to
himself, and went merrily onwards.  Soon afterwards he met a Jew
with a long goat's beard, who was standing listening to the song
of a bird which was sitting up at the top of a tree.  Good
heavens, he was exclaiming, that such a small creature should have
such a fearfully loud voice.  If it were but mine.  If only
someone would sprinkle some salt upon its tail.  If that is all,
said the servant, the bird shall soon be down here.  And taking
aim he blew, and down fell the bird into the thorn-bushes.  Go,
you rogue, he said to the Jew, and fetch the bird out for
yourself.
Oh, said the Jew, leave out the rogue, my master, and I will do it
at once.  I will get the bird out for myself, now that you have
hit it.  Then he lay down on the ground, and began to crawl
into the thicket.
When he was fast among the thorns, the good servant's humor
so tempted him that he took up his fiddle and began to play.  In a
moment the Jew's legs began to move, and to jump into the air, and
the more the servant fiddled the better went the dance.  But the
thorns tore his shabby coat from him, combed his beard, and
pricked and plucked him all over the body.  Oh, dear, cried the
Jew, what do I want with your fiddling.  Leave the fiddle alone
master, I do not want to dance.
But the servant did not listen to him, and thought, you have
fleeced people often enough, now the thorn-bushes shall do the
same to you.  And he began to play over again, so that the Jew
had to jump higher than ever, and scraps of his coat were left
hanging on the thorns.  Oh, woe's me, cried the Jew, I will give
the gentleman whatsoever he asks if only he leaves off fiddling,
a whole purseful of gold.  If you are so liberal, said the servant,
I will stop my music, but this I must say to your credit, that
you dance to it so well that one must really admire it.  And
having taken the purse he went his way.
The Jew stood still and watched the servant quietly until he was
far off and out of sight, and then he screamed out with all his
might, you miserable musician, you beer-house fiddler.  Wait till
I catch you alone, I will hunt you till the soles of your shoes
fall off.  You ragamuffin, just put six farthings in your mouth,
that you may be worth three halfpence.  And went on abusing him as
fast as he could speak.  As soon as he had refreshed himself a
little in this way, and got his breath again, he ran into the town
to the justice.
My lord judge, he said, I have come to make a complaint, see how
a rascal has robbed and ill-treated me on the public highway.  A
stone on the ground might pity me, my clothes all torn, my body
pricked and scratched, my little all gone with my purse - good
ducats, each piece better than the last, for God's sake let the
man be thrown into prison.
Was it a soldier, said the judge, who cut you thus with his
sabre.  Nothing of the sort, said the Jew, it was no sword that he
had, but a gun hanging at his back, and a fiddle at his neck, the
wretch may easily be recognized.
So the judge sent his people out after the man, and they found the
good servant, who had been going quite slowly along, and they
found, too, the purse with the money upon him.  As soon as he
was taken before the judge he said, I did not touch the Jew, nor
take his money, he gave it to me of his own free will, that I
might leave off fiddling because he could not bear my music.
Heaven defend us, cried the Jew, his lies are as thick as flies
upon the wall.
But the judge also did not believe his tale, and said, this is
a bad defence, no Jew would do that.  And because he had committed
robbery on the public highway, he sentenced the good servant to be
hanged.  As he was being led away the Jew again screamed after
him, you vagabond.  You dog of a fiddler.  Now you are going to
receive your well-earned reward.  The servant walked quietly with
the hangman up the ladder, but upon the last step he turned round
and said to the judge, grant me just one request before I die.
Yes, if you do not ask your life, said the judge.
I do not ask for life, answered the servant, but as a last favor
let me play once more upon my fiddle.
The Jew raised a great cry of, murder.  Murder.  For goodness,
sake do not allow it.  Do not allow it.  But the judge said, why
should I not let him have this short pleasure.  It has been
granted to him, and he shall have it.  However, he could not have
refused on account of the gift which had been bestowed on the
servant.
Then the Jew cried, oh.  Woe's me.  Tie me, tie me fast.  While
the good servant took his fiddle from his neck, and made ready.
As he gave the first scrape, they all began to quiver and shake,
the judge, his clerk, and the hangman and his men, and the cord
fell out of the hand of the one who was going to tie the Jew
fast.  At the second scrape they all leaped up and began to
dance, the judge and the Jew being the best at jumping.  Soon all
who had gathered in the market-place out of curiosity were dancing
with them, old and young, fat and lean, one with another.  The
dogs, likewise, which had run there, got up on their hind legs
and capered about, and the longer he played, the higher sprang
the dancers, so that they knocked against each other's heads
and began to shriek terribly.
At length the judge cried, quite of breath, I will give you your
life if you will only stop fiddling.  The good servant thereupon
had compassion, took his fiddle and hung it round his neck again,
and stepped down the ladder.  Then he went up to the Jew, who was
lying upon the ground panting for breath, and said, you rascal,
now confess, whence you got the money, or I will take my fiddle
and begin to play again.  I stole it, I stole it, cried he, but
you have honestly earned it.  So the judge had the Jew taken
to the gallows and hanged as a thief.
A countryman was once going out to plough with a pair of oxen.
When he got to the field, both the animals, horns began to grow,
and went on growing, and when he wanted to go home they were so
big that the oxen could not get through the gateway.  By good
luck a butcher came by just then, and he delivered them over to
him, and made the bargain in this way, that he should bring the
butcher a peck of rape-seed, and then the butcher was to count him
out a brabant taler for every seed.  I call that well sold.  The
peasant now went home, and carried the peck of rape-seed to him on
his back.  On the way, however, he lost one seed out of the bag.
The butcher paid him justly as agreed on, and if the peasant had
not lost the seed, he would have had one taler more.  By the time
he returned, the seed had grown into a tree which reached up to
the sky.  Then thought the peasant, as you have the chance,
you must just see what the angels are doing up there above.  So
he climbed up, and saw that the angels above were threshing oats,
and he looked on.  While he was thus watching them, he observed
that the tree on which he was standing, was beginning to totter.
He peeped down, and saw that someone was just going to cut it
down.  If I were to fall down from hence
it would be a bad thing, thought he, and in his extremity he did
not know how to save himself better than by taking the chaff of the
oats which lay there in heaps, and twisting a rope of it.  He
likewise snatched a hoe and a flail which were lying about in
heaven, and let himself down by the rope.  But he came down on
the earth exactly in the middle of a deep, deep hole.  So it was
a real stroke of luck that he had brought the hoe, for he hoed
himself a flight of steps with it, and mounted up, and took the
flail with him as a token of his truth, so that no one could have
any doubt of his story.
Three army surgeons who thought they knew their art perfectly
were traveling about the world, and they came to an inn where
they wanted to pass the night.  The host asked whence they came,
and whither they were going.  We are roaming about the world and
practising our art.  Show me just once what you can do, said
the host.  Then the first said he would cut off his hand, and put
it on again early next morning.  The second said he would tear
out his heart, and replace it next morning.  The third said he would
gouge out his eyes and heal them again next morning.  If you can
do that, said the innkeeper, you have learnt everything.  They,
however, had a salve, with which they rubbed themselves, which
joined parts together, and they constantly carried with them the
little bottle in which it was.  Then they cut the hand, heart
and eyes from their bodies as they had said they would, and laid
them all together on a plate, and gave it to the innkeeper.
The innkeeper gave it to a servant-girl who was to set it in the
cupboard, and take good care of it.  Secretly, however, the girl
had a lover, who was a soldier.  When therefore the innkeeper,
the three army surgeons, and everyone else in the house were asleep,
the soldier came and wanted something to eat.  The girl opened
the cupboard and brought him some food, and in her love forgot
to shut the cupboard-door again.  She seated herself at the table
by her lover, and they chatted away together.  While she sat so
contentedly there, thinking of no ill luck, the cat came creeping
in, found the cupboard open, took the hand and heart and eyes of
the three army surgeons, and ran off with them.  When the soldier
had done eating, and the girl was taking away the things and
going to shut the cupboard, she saw that the plate which the
innkeeper had given her to take care of, was empty.  Then she
said in a fright to her lover, ah, miserable girl, what shall I
do.  The hand is gone, the heart and the eyes are gone too, what
will become of me in the morning.  Be easy, said he, I will
help you out of your trouble.  There is a thief hanging outside
on the gallows, I will cut off his hand.  Which hand was it.
The right one.  Then the girl gave him a sharp knife, and he went
and cut the poor sinner's right hand off, and brought it to her.
After this he caught the cat and gouged its eyes out, and now
nothing but the heart was missing.  Have you not been slaughtering,
and are not the dead pigs in the cellar, said he.  Yes, said the
girl.  That's fine, said the soldier, and he went down and fetched
a pig's heart.  The girl placed all together on the plate, and
put it in the cupboard, and when after this her lover took leave
of her, she went quietly to bed.
In the morning when the three army surgeons got up, they told
the girl she was to bring them the plate on which the
hand, heart, and eyes were lying.  Then she brought it out of
the cupboard, and the first fixed the thief's hand on and smeared
it with his salve, and it promptly grew to his arm.  The second
took the cat's eyes and put them in his own head.  The third
fixed the pig's heart firm in the place where his own had been,
and the innkeeper stood by, admired their skill, and said he
had never yet seen such a thing as
that done, and would sing their praises and recommend them to
everyone.  Then they paid their bill, and traveled further.
As they were on their way, the one with the pig's heart did not
stay with them at all, but wherever there was a corner he ran
to it, and rooted about in it with his nose as pigs do.  The
others wanted to hold him back by the tail of his coat, but that
did no good.  He tore himself loose, and ran wherever the dirt was
deepest.  The second also behaved very strangely.  He rubbed
his eyes, and said to the others, comrades, what has happened.
These are not my eyes.  I don't see at all.  Will one of you lead
me, so that I do not fall.  Then with difficulty they traveled on
till evening, when they reached another inn.  They went into the
bar together, and there at a table in the corner sat a rich man
counting money.  The one with the thief's hand walked round
about him, made a few jerky movements with his arm, and at
last when the stranger turned away, snatched at the pile of money,
and took a handful from it.  One of them saw this, and
said, comrade, what are you about.  You must not steal, shame
on you.  Eh, said he, but what can I do.  My hand twitches, and
I am forced to snatch things whether I will or not.
After this, they lay down to sleep, and while they were lying
there it was so dark that no one could see his own hand.  All
at once the one with the cat's eyes awoke, aroused the others,
and said, brothers, just look up, do you see the white mice
running about there.  The two sat up, but could see nothing.  Then
said he, things are not right with us, we have not got back
again what is ours.  We must return to the innkeeper, he has
deceived us.  So they went back the next morning, and told the
host they had not received what was their own, that the first
had a thief's hand, the second cat's eyes, and the third a
pig's heart.  The innkeeper said that the girl must be to blame
for that, and was going to call her, but when she had seen the
three coming, she had run out by the backdoor, and not come back.
Then the three said he must give them a great deal of money, or
they would set the red cock on his roof. - The symbol of a red
cock for fire is of remote antiquity. - He gave them what he
had, and whatever he could raise, and the three went away
with it.  It was enough for the rest of their lives, but they
would rather have had their own rightful organs.
Seven swabians were once together.  The first was master
schulz, the second, jackli, the third, marli, the fourth,
jergli, the fifth, michal, the sixth, Hans, the seventh,
veitli.  All seven had made up their minds to travel
about the world to seek adventures and perform great
deeds.  But in order that they might go in safety and with
arms in their hands, they thought it would be advisable
that they should have one solitary, but very strong,
and very long spear made for them.  This spear all seven of
them took in their hands at once.  In front walked the
boldest and bravest,
and that was master schulz.  All the others followed in a
row, and veitli was the last.  Then it came to pass one
day in the hay month, when they had walked a long distance,
and still had a long way to go before they reached the
village where they were to pass the night, that as they
were in a meadow in the twilight a great beetle or hornet
flew by them from behind a bush, and hummed in a menacing
manner.  Master schulz was so terrified that he all but dropped
the spear, and a cold sweat broke out over his whole body.
Hark, hark, cried he to his comrades, good heavens.  I hear a
drum.  Jackli, who was behind him holding the spear, and into
whose nose some smell had risen, said, something is most
certainly going on, for I smell the powder and the match.  At
these words master schulz began to take to flight, and in a
trice jumped
over a hedge, but as he just happened to jump on to the teeth of
a rake which had been left lying there after the hay-making, the
handle of it struck against his face and gave him a tremendous
blow.  O dear.  O dear, screamed master schulz.  Take me
prisoner, I surrender, I surrender.  The other six all leapt
over, one on the top of the other, crying, if you surrender, I
surrender too.  If you surrender, I surrender too.  At length,
as no enemy was there to bind and take them away, they saw that
they had been mistaken, and in order that the story might not
be known, and they be treated as fools and ridiculed, they
all swore to each other to hold their peace about it until one
of them should speak of it by mistake.
Then they journeyed onwards.  The second danger which they
survived cannot be compared with the first.  Some days afterwards,
their path led them through a fallow-field where a hare was sitting
sleeping in the sun.  Her ears were standing straight up, and her
great glassy eyes were wide open.  All of them were alarmed at
the sight of the horrible wild beast, and they consulted together
as to what it would be the least dangerous to do.  For if they
were to run away, they knew that the monster would pursue and
swallow them whole.  So they said, we must go through a great
and dangerous struggle.  Boldly ventured, is half won, and all
seven grasped the spear, master schulz in front, and veitli
behind.  Master schulz was always trying to keep the spear
back, but veitli had become quite brave while behind, and wanted
to dash forward and cried,
          strike home, in every swabian's name,
          or else I wish you may be lame.
But Hans knew how to meet this, and said,
          thunder and lightning, it's fine to prate,
          but for dragon-hunting you are always late.
Michal cried,
          nothing is missing, not even a hair,
          be sure the devil himself is there.
Then it was jergli's turn, and he said,
          if it be not he, it's at least his mother,
          or else the devil's own step-brother.
And now marli had a bright thought, and said to veitli,
          advance, veitli, advance, advance,
          and I behind will hold the lance.
Veitli, however, did not obey, and jackli said,
          tis schulz's place the first to be,
          no one deserves that honor but he.
Then master schulz plucked up his courage, and said, gravely,
          then let us boldly advance to the fight,
          thus we shall show our valor and might.
Hereupon they all together set on the dragon.  Master
schulz crossed himself and prayed for God's assistance, but
as all this was of no avail, and he was getting nearer and nearer
to the enemy, he screamed, oho, oho, ho, ho, ho, in the greatest
anguish.  This awakened the hare, which in great alarm darted
swiftly away.  When master schulz saw her thus flying from the
field of battle, he cried in his joy,
          quick, veitli, quick, look there, look there,
          the monster's nothing but a hare.
But the swabian allies went in search of further adventures, and
came to the moselle, a mossy, quiet, deep river, over which there are
few bridges, and which in many places people have to cross in
boats.  As the seven swabians did not know this, they called
to a man who was working on the opposite side of the river, to
know how people contrived to get across.  The distance and their
way of speaking made the man unable to understand what they
wanted, and he said, what, what, in the way people speak in
the neighborhood of treves.  Master schulz thought he was saying,
wade, wade through the water, and as he was the first, began
to set out and
went into the moselle.  It was not long before he sank in the
mud and the deep waves which drove against him, but his hat was
blown on the opposite shore by the wind, and a frog sat down
beside it, and croaked, wat, wat, wat.  The other six on the
opposite side heard that, and said, oho, comrades, master
schulz is calling us.  If he can wade across, why cannot we.
So they all jumped into the water together in a great hurry, and
were drowned, and thus one frog took the lives of all six of
them, and not one of the swabian allies ever reached home again.
There were once three apprentices, who had agreed to keep always
together while traveling, and always to work in the same
town.  At one time, however, their masters had no more work
to give them, so that at last they were in rags, and had nothing
to live on.  Then one of them said, what shall we do.  We cannot
stay here any longer, we will travel once more, and if we do
not find any work in the town we go to, we will arrange with
the innkeeper there, that we are to write and tell him where we
are staying, so that we can always have news of each other, and
then we will separate.  And that seemed best to the others also.
They went forth, and met on the way a richly-dressed man who
asked who they were.  We are apprentices looking for work.  Up to
this time we have kept together, but if we cannot find anything
to do we are going to separate.  There is no need for that, said
the man, if you will do what I tell you, you shall not want for
gold or for work.  Nay, you shall become great lords, and drive
in your carriages.  One of them said, if our souls and salvation
be not endangered, we will certainly do it.  They will not,
replied the man,
I have no claim on you.  One of the others, however, had looked
at his feet, and when he saw a horse's foot and a man's foot,
he did not want to have anything to do with him.  Then the
devil said, be easy, I have no designs on you, but on another
soul, which is half my own already, and whose measure shall
but run full.  As they were now secure, they consented, and the
devil told them what he wanted.  The first was to answer,
all three of us, to every question.  The second was to say,
for money, and the third, and quite right too.  They were always
to say this, one after the other, but they were not to say one
word more, and if they disobeyed this order, all their money would
disappear at once, but so long as they observed it, their pockets
would always be full.  As a beginning, he at once gave them as
much as they could carry, and told them to go to such and such
an inn when they got to the town.  They went to it, and the
innkeeper came to meet them, and asked if they wished for
anything to eat.  The first replied, all three of us.  Yes,
said the host, that is what I mean.  The second said, for money.
Of course, said the host.  The third said, and quite right too.
Certainly it is right, said the host.
Good meat and drink were now brought to them, and they were well
waited on.  After the dinner came the payment, and the innkeeper
gave the bill to the one who said, all three of us, the second
said, for money, and the third, and quite right too.  Indeed
it is right, said the host, all three pay, and without money I
can give nothing.  They, however, paid even more than he had
asked.  The lodgers, who were looking on, said, these people must
be mad.  Yes, indeed they are, said the host, they are not very
wise.  So they stayed some time in the inn, and said nothing else
but, all three of us, for money, and and quite right too.  But
they saw and knew all that was going on.  It so happened that a
great merchant came with a large sum of money, and said, sir
host, take care of my money for me, here are three crazy apprentices
who might steal it from me.  The host did as he was asked.  As
he was carrying the trunk into his room, he felt that it was
heavy with gold.  Thereupon he gave the three apprentices a
lodging below, but the merchant received a separate apartment
upstairs.  When it was midnight, and the host thought that all
were asleep, he came with his wife, and they had an axe and
struck the rich merchant dead.   And after they had murdered
him they went to bed again.  When it was day there was a great
outcry.  The merchant lay dead in bed bathed in blood.  All
the guests came running out, but the host said, the three
crazy apprentices have done this.  The lodgers confirmed it,
and said, it can have been no one else.  The innkeeper, however,
had them called, and said to them, have you killed the merchant.
All three of us, said the first.  For money, said the second.
And the third added, and quite right too.  There now, you hear,
said the host, they confess it themselves.  They were taken to
prison, therefore, and were to be tried.  When they saw that
things were going so seriously, they were after all afraid,
but at night the devil came and said, bear it just one day
longer, and do not spurn your luck, not one hair of your head
shall be hurt.
The next morning they were led to the bar, and the judge said,
are you the murderers.  All three of us.  Why did you kill the
merchant.  For money.  You wicked wretches, you have no
horror of your sins.  And quite right too.  They have confessed,
and are still stubborn, said the judge, lead them to death
instantly.  So they were taken out, and the host had to go with
them into the circle.  When they were taken hold of by the
executioner's men, and were just going to be led up to the
scaffold where the hangman was standing with naked sword,
a coach drawn by four chestnut horses came up suddenly, driving
so fast that fire flashed from the stones, and someone made
signs from the window with a
white handkerchief.  Then said the hangman, it is a pardon
coming, and pardon, pardon, was called from the carriage also.
Then the devil stepped out as a very noble gentleman,
beautifully dressed, and said, you three are innocent.  You
may now speak, make known what you have seen and heard.  Then
said the eldest, we did not kill the merchant, the murderer
is standing there in the circle, and he pointed to the innkeeper.
In proof of this, go into his cellar, where many others whom he
has killed are still hanging.  Then the judge sent the
executioner's men thither, and they found it was as the
apprentices said, and when they had informed the judge of this,
he caused the innkeeper to be led up, and his head was cut off.
Then said the devil to the three, now I have got the soul which
I wanted to have, and you are free, and have money for the
rest of your lives.
In a certain village there once lived a man and his wife, and
the wife was so lazy that she would never work at anything.
Whatever her husband gave her to spin, she did not get done,
and what she did spin she did not wind, but let it all remain
entangled in a heap.  If the man scolded her, she was always
ready with her tongue, and said, well, how should I wind it,
when I have no reel.  Just you go into the forest and get me
one.  If that is all, said the man, then I will go into the
forest, and get some wood for making reels.  Then the woman
was afraid that if he had the wood he would make her a reel
of it, and she would have to wind her yarn
off, and then begin to spin again.  She bethought herself a
little, and then a lucky idea occurred to her, and she
secretly followed the man into the forest, and when he had
climbed into a tree to choose and cut the wood, she crept
into the thicket below where he could not see her, and cried,
     he who cuts wood for reels shall die,
     and he who winds, shall perish.
The man listened, laid down his axe for a moment, and began
to consider what that could mean.  Well, he said at last,
what can that have been, my ears must have been singing, I
won't alarm myself for nothing.  So he once more seized the
axe, and began to hew.  Then again there came a cry from
below,
     he who cuts wood for reels shall die,
     and he who winds, shall perish.
He stopped, and felt afraid and alarmed, and pondered over
the circumstance.  But when a few moments had passed, he took
heart again, and a third time he stretched out his hand for
the axe, and began to cut.  But someone called out a third
time, and said loudly,
     he who cuts wood for reels shall die,
     and he who winds, shall perish.
That was enough for him, and all inclination had departed
from him, so he hastily descended the tree, and set out on
his way home.  The woman ran as fast as she could by byways
so as to get home
first.  So when he entered the parlor, she put on an
innocent look as if nothing had happened, and said, well,
have you brought a nice piece of wood for reels.  No, said he,
I see very well that winding won't do, and told her what had
happened to him in the forest, and from that time forth left
her in peace about it.  Neverthless after some time, the man
again began to complain of the disorder in the house.  Wife,
said he, it is really a shame that the spun yarn should lie
there all entangled.  I'll tell you what, said she, as we
still don't come by any reel, go you up into the loft, and I
will stand down below, and will throw the yarn up to you,
and you will throw it down to me, and so we shall get a
skein after all.  Yes, that will do, said the man.  So they
did that, and when it was done, he said, the yarn is in
skeins, now it must be boiled.  The woman was again
distressed, and said, yes, we will boil it to-morrow morning
early.  But she was secretly contriving another trick.
Early in the morning she got up, lighted a fire, and put the
kettle on, only instead of the yarn, she put in a lump of tow
and let it boil.  After that she went to the man who was
still lying in bed, and said to him, I must just go out, you
must get up and look after the yarn which is in the kettle on
the fire, but you must be at hand at once, mind that, for if
the cock should happen to crow, and you are not attending to
the yarn, it will become tow.  The man was willing and took
good care not to loiter.  He got up as quickly as he could,
and went into the kitchen.  But when he reached the kettle
and peeped in, he saw, to his horror, nothing but a lump of
tow.  Then the poor man was as still as a mouse, thinking
he had neglected it, and was to blame, and in future said
no more about yarn and spinning.  But you yourself must own
that she was an odious woman.
A peasant had a faithful horse which had grown old and could
do no more work, so his master would no longer give him
anything to eat and said, I can certainly make no more use
of you, but still I mean well by you, if you prove yourself
still strong enough to bring me a lion here, I will maintain
you, but now take yourself away out of my stable.  And with
that he chased him into the open country.  The horse was
sad, and went to the forest to seek a little protection there
from the weather.  Then the fox met him and said, why do you
hang your head so, and go about all alone.  Alas, replied the
horse, avarice and fidelity do not dwell together in one
house.  My master has forgotten what services I have
performed for him for so many years, and because I can no
longer plough well, he will give me no more food, and has
driven me out.  Without giving you a chance, asked the fox.
The chance was a bad one.  He said, if I were still strong
enough to bring him a lion, he would keep me, but he well
knows that I cannot do that.  The fox said, I will help you,
just lay yourself down, stretch yourself out as if you were
dead, and do not stir.  The horse did as the fox desired,
and the fox went to the lion, who had his den not far off,
and said, a dead horse is lying outside there, just come
with me, you can have a rich meal.  The lion went with
him, and when they
were both standing by the horse the fox said, after all, it
is not very convenient for you here - I tell you what - I
will fasten it to you by the tail, and then you can drag it
into your cave, and devour it in peace.
This advice pleased the lion, he lay down, and in order that
the fox might tie the horse fast to him, he kept quite quiet.
But the fox tied the lion's legs together with the horse's
tail, and twisted and fastened all so well and so strongly
that no strength could break it.  When he had finished his
work, he tapped the horse on the shoulder and said, pull,
white horse, pull.  Then up sprang the horse at once, and
drew the lion away with him.  The lion began to roar so
that all the birds in the forest flew out in terror, but
the horse let him roar, and drew him and dragged him over
the country to his master's door.  When the master saw the
lion, he was of a better mind, and said to the horse, you
shall stay with me and fare well, and he gave him plenty
to eat until he died.
The Lord God had created all animals, and had chosen out the wolf to
be his dog, but he had forgotten the goat.  Then the devil made
ready and began to create also, and created goats with fine long
tails.  Now when they went to pasture, they generally remained
caught in the hedges by their tails, whereupon the devil had to go
and disentangle them, with a great deal of trouble.  This enraged
him at last, and he went and bit off the tail of every goat, as may
be seen to this day by the stump.
Then he let them go to pasture alone, but it came to pass that the
Lord God perceived how at one time they gnawed away at a fruitful
tree, at another injured the noble vines, or destroyed other tender
plants.  This distressed him, so that in his goodness and mercy he
summoned his wolves, who soon tore in pieces the goats that went
there.  When the devil observed this, he went before the Lord and
said, your creatures have destroyed mine.  The Lord answered, why
did you create things to do harm.  The devil said, I was compelled
to do it, inasmuch as my thoughts run on evil.  What I
create can have no other nature, and you must pay me heavy damages.
I will pay you as soon as the oak leaves fall, come then, your money
will then be ready counted out.  When the oak-leaves had fallen, the
devil came and demanded what was due to him.  But the Lord said, in
the church of constantinople stands a tall oaktree which still has
all its leaves.  With raging and curses, the devil departed, and
went to seek the oak, wandered in the wilderness for six months
before he found it, and when he returned, all the oaks had in the
meantime covered themselves again with green leaves.  Then he had to
forfeit his indemnity, and in his rage he put out the eyes of all
the remaining goats, and put his own in instead.
This is why all goats have devil's eyes, and their tails bitten off,
and why he likes to assume their shape.
There was once a sorcerer who was standing in the midst of a
great crowd of people performing his wonders.  He had a cock
brought in, which lifted a heavy beam and carried it as if
it were light as a feather.  But a girl was present who had
just found a four-leaved clover, and had thus become so wise
that no deception could stand out against her, and she saw
that the beam was nothing but a straw.  So she cried, you
people, do you not see that it is a straw that the cock is
carrying, and no beam.  Immediately the enchantment vanished,
and the people saw what it was, and drove the magician away
in shame and disgrace.  He, however, full of inward anger,
said, I will soon revenge myself.
After some time the girl's wedding-day came, and she was
decked out, and went in a great procession over the fields to
the place where the church was.  All at once she came to a
stream which was very much swollen, and there was no bridge
and no plank to cross it.  Then the bride nimbly took her
clothes up, and wanted to wade through it.  And just as she
was thus standing in the water, a man, and it was the
sorcerer, cried mockingly close beside her, aha.  Where are
your eyes that you take that for water.  Then her eyes were
opened, and she saw that she was standing with her clothes
lifted up in the middle of a field that was blue with the
flowers of blue flax.  Then all the people saw it likewise,
and chased her away with ridicule and laughter.
There was once an old woman, but you have surely seen an old
woman go a-begging before now.  This woman begged likewise,
and when she got anything she said, may God reward you.  The
beggar-woman came to a door, and there by the fire a friendly
rogue of a boy was standing warming himself.  The boy said
kindly to the poor old woman as she was standing shivering
thus by the door, come, old mother, and warm yourself.  She
came in, but stood too near the fire, so that her old rags
began to burn, and she was not aware of it.  The boy stood
and saw that, but he ought to have put the flames out.  Is it
not true that he ought to have put them out.  And if he had
not any water, then he should have wept all the water in
his body out of his eyes, and that would have supplied two
pretty streams with which to extinguish them.
There was once on a time a maiden who was pretty, but idle
and negligent.  When she had to spin she was so out of
temper that if there was a little knot in the flax, she
at once pulled out a whole heap of it, and strewed it about
on the ground beside her.  Now she had a servant who was
industrious, and gathered together the bits of flax which
were thrown away, cleaned them, spun them fine, and had a
beautiful gown made out of them for herself.  A young man
had wooed the lazy girl, and the wedding was to take place.
On the eve of the wedding, the industrious one was dancing
merrily about in her pretty dress, and the bride said, ah,
how that girl does jump about, dressed in my hurds.
The bridegroom heard that, and asked the bride what she meant
by it.  Then she told him that the girl was wearing a dress
made of the flax which she had thrown away.  When the
bridegroom heard that, and saw how idle she was, and how
industrious the poor girl was, he gave her up and went to the
other, and chose her as his wife.
In the time of schlauraffen I went forth and saw rome and the
lateran hanging by a small silken thread, and a man without feet who
outran a swift horse, and a keen sharp sword that cut through a
bridge.  I saw a young ass with a silver nose which pursued two
fleet hares, and a lime-tree that was very large, on which hot cakes
were growing.  I saw a lean old goat which carried about a hundred
cart-loads of fat on his body, and sixty loads of salt.  Have I not
told enough lies.  I saw a plough ploughing without horse or cow,
and a child of one year threw four millstones from ratisbon to
treves, and from treves to strasburg, and a hawk swam over the
rhine, which he had a perfect right to do.  I heard some fishes
begin to make such a disturbance with each other, that it resounded
as far as heaven, and sweet honey flowed like water from a deep
valley to the top of a high mountain, and these were strange things.
There were two crows which were mowing a meadow, and I saw two gnats
building a bridge, and two doves tore a wolf to pieces, two children
brought forth two kids, and two frogs threshed corn
together.  I saw two mice consecrating a bishop, and two cats
scratching out a bear's tongue.  Then a snail came running up and
killed two furious lions.  There stood a barber and shaved a woman's
beard off, and two sucking-children bade their mother hold her
tongue.  There I saw two greyhounds which brought a mill out of the
water, and a broken-down old horse was beside it, and said it was
right.  And four horses were standing in the yard threshing corn
with all their might, and two goats were heating the stove, and a
red cow shot the bread into the oven.  Then a hen crowed,
cock-a-doodle-doo.  The story is all told, cock-a-doodle-doo.
I will tell you something.  I saw two roasted fowls flying,
they flew quickly and had their breasts turned to heaven and
their backs to hell, and an anvil and a mill-stone swam across
the rhine prettily, slowly, and gently, and a frog sat on
the ice at whitsuntide and ate a ploughshare.  Three fellows
who wanted to catch a hare, went on crutches and stilts, one
of them was deaf, the second blind, the third dumb, and the
fourth could not stir a step.  Do you want to know how it was
done.  First, the blind man saw the hare running across the
field, the dumb one called to the lame one, and the lame one
seized it by the neck.
There were certain men who wished to sail on dry land, and
they set their sails in the wind, and sailed away over great
fields.  Then they sailed over a high mountain, and there
they were miserably drowned.  A crab was chasing a hare which
was running away at full speed, and high up on the roof lay
a cow which had climbed up there.  In that country the flies
are as big as the goats are here.  Open the window that the
lies may fly out.
Three women were transformed into flowers which grew in
the field, but one of them was allowed to be in her own home at
night.  Then once when day was drawing near, and she was forced to
go back to her companions in the field and become a flower again,
she said to her husband, if you will come this afternoon and
gather me, I shall be set free and henceforth stay with you.  And
he did so.  Now the question is, how did her husband know her, for
the flowers were exactly alike, and without any difference.
Answer - as she was at her home during the night and not in the
field, no dew fell on her as it did on the others, and by this
her husband knew her.
How fortunate is the master, and how well all goes in his
house, when he has a wise servant who listens to his orders
and does not obey them, but prefers following his own wisdom.  A
clever Hans of this kind was once sent out by his master to seek a
lost cow.  He stayed away a long time, and the master thought,
faithful Hans does not spare any pains over his work.  But when
he did not come back at all, the master was afraid lest some
misfortune had befallen him, and set out himself to look for
him.  He had to search a long time, but at last he caught sight
of the boy running up and down a large field.  Now, dear Hans,
said the master when he had got up to him, have you found the cow
which I sent you to
seek.  No, master, he answered, I have not found the cow, but
then I have not looked for it.  Then what have you looked for,
Hans.  Three blackbirds, answered the boy.  And where are they,
asked the master.  I see one of them, I hear the other, and I
am running after the third, answered the wise boy.
Take example by this, do not trouble yourselves about your
masters or their orders, but rather do what comes into your
head and pleases you, and then you will act just as wisely as
clever Hans.
Once upon a time a poor pious peasant died, and arrived before
the gate of heaven.  At the same time a very rich, rich lord
came there who also wanted to get into heaven.  Then saint
peter came with the key, and opened the door, and let the
great man in, but apparently did not see the peasant, and shut
the door again.  And now the peasant outside heard how the
great man was received in heaven with all kinds of rejoicing,
and how they were making music, and singing within.  At length
all became quiet again, and saint peter came and opened the gate
of heaven, and let the peasant in.  The peasant, however,
expected that they would make music and sing when he went in
also, but all remained quite quiet.  He was received with great
affection, it is true, and the angels came to meet him, but no
one sang.  Then the peasant asked saint peter how it was that
they did not sing for him as they had done when the rich man
went in, and said that it seemed to him that there in heaven
things were done with just as much partiality as on earth.  Then
said saint peter, by no means, you are just as dear to us as
anyone else, and will enjoy every heavenly delight that the
rich man enjoys, but poor fellows like you come to heaven every
day, but a rich man like this does not come more than once in a
hundred years.
Lean lisa was of a very different way of thinking from lazy
harry and fat trina, who never let anything disturb their
peace.  She slaved away from morning till evening, and
burdened her husband, long laurence, with so much work that
he had heavier weights to carry than an ass with three sacks.
But it was
all to no purpose, for they had nothing and came to nothing.
One night as she lay in bed, and could hardly move one limb for
weariness, she still did not allow her thoughts to go to sleep.
She thrust her elbow into her husband's side, and said, listen,
lenz, to what I have been thinking.  If I were to find one florin
and one was given to me, I would borrow another to put to them,
and you too should give me another, and then as soon as I had
got the four florins together, I would buy a young cow.  This
pleased the husband right well.  It is true, said he, that I do
not know where I am to get the florin which you want as a gift
from me.  But, if you can get the money together, and can buy a
cow with it, you will do well to carry out your project.  I shall
be glad, he added, if the cow has a calf, and then I shall often
get a drink of milk to refresh me.  The milk is not for you, said
the woman, we must let the calf suck that it may become big and
fat, and we may be able to sell it well.  Certainly, replied the
man, but still we will take a little milk.  That will do no harm.
Who has taught you to manage cows,
said the woman.  Whether it does harm or not, I will not allow it,
and even if you were to stand on your head for it, you should not
have a drop of the milk.  Do you think, because there is no
satisfying you, long laurence, that you are to eat up what I earn
with so much difficulty.  Wife, said the man, be quiet, or I will
give you a blow on your mouth.  What, cried she, you threaten me,
you glutton, you rascal, you lazy harry.  She was just laying
hold of his hair, but long laurence got up, seized both lean
lisa's withered arms in one hand, and with the other he pressed
down her head into the pillow, let her scold, and held her until
she fell asleep for very weariness.  Whether she continued to
wrangle when she awoke next morning, or whether she went out to
look for the florin which she wanted to find, that I know not.
There was once a tailor, who was a quarrelsome fellow, and
his wife, who was good, industrious, and pious, never could
please him.  Whatever she did, he was not satisfied, but
grumbled and scolded, and knocked her about and beat her.  As
the authorities at last heard of it, they had him summoned
and put in prison in order to make him better.  He was kept
for a while on bread and water, and then set free again.  He
was forced, however, to promise not to beat his wife any
more, but to live with her in peace, and share joy and
sorrow with her, as married people ought to do.  All went
on well for a time, but then he fell into his old ways and
was surly and quarrelsome.  And because he dared not beat her,
he would seize her by the hair and tear it out.  The woman
escaped from him, and sprang out into the yard, but he ran
after her with his yard-measure and scissors, and chased her
about, and threw the yard-measure and scissors at her, and
whatever else came his way.  When he hit her he laughed, and
when he missed her, he stormed and swore.  This went on so long
that the neighbors came to the wife's assistance.  The tailor
was again summoned before the magistrates, and reminded of his
promise.  Dear gentlemen, said he, I have kept my word, I have
not beaten her, but have shared joy and sorrow with her.  How
can that be, said the judge, as she continues to bring such
heavy complaints against you.  I have not beaten her, but just
because she looked so strange I wanted to comb her hair with
my hand.  She, however, got away from me, and left me quite
spitefully.  Then I hurried after her, and in order to bring
her back to her duty, I threw at her as a well-meant reminder
whatever came readily to hand.  I have shared joy and sorrow
with her also, for whenever I hit her I was full of joy and
she of sorrow, and if I missed her, then she was joyful, and I
sorry.  The judges were not satisfied with this answer, but
gave him the reward he deserved.
In olden times every sound still had its meaning and significance.
When the smith's hammer resounded, it cried, "Strike away, strike
away."  When the carpenter's plane grated, it said, "Here goes, here
goes."  If the mill wheel began to clack, it said, "Help, Lord God,
help, Lord God."  And if the miller was a cheat and set the mill
a-going, it spoke high german, and first asked slowly, "Who is
there?  Who is there?"  And then answered quickly, "The miller,
the miller."  And at last quite in a hurry, "He steals bravely,
He steals bravely, three pecks in a bushel."

At this time the birds also had their own language which every
one understood.  Now it only sounds like chirping, screeching, and
whistling, and sometimes like music without words.  It came into
the birds' mind, however, that they would no longer be without a
ruler, and would choose one of themselves to be their king.  One
alone among them, the green plover, was opposed to this.  He
had lived free and would die free, and anxiously flying hither
and thither, he cried, "Where shall I go?  Where shall I go?"  He
retired into a solitary and unfrequented marsh, and showed himself
no more among his fellows.

The birds now wished to discuss the matter, and on a fine may
morning they all gathered together from the woods and fields,
eagles and chaffinches, owls and crows, larks and sparrows, how
can I name them all.  Even the cuckoo came, and the hoopoe, his
clerk, who is so called because he is always heard a few days
before him, and a very small bird which as yet had no name,
mingled with the band.  The hen, which by some accident had
heard nothing of the whole matter, was astonished at the great
assemblage.  What, what, what is going to be done, she cackled.
But the cock calmed his beloved hen, and said, only a lot of
rich people, and told her what they had on hand.  It was
decided that the one who could fly the highest should be king.
A tree-frog which was sitting among the bushes, when he heard
that, cried a warning, no, no, no, no, because he thought that
many tears would be shed because of this.  But the crow said, caw,
caw, and that all would pass off peaceably.

It was now determined that on this fine morning they should at
once begin to ascend, so that hereafter no one should be able
to say, I could easily have flown much higher, but the evening
came on, and I could do no more.  On a given signal, therefore,
the whole troop rose up in the air.  The dust ascended from the
land, and there was tremendous fluttering and whirring and
beating of wings, and it looked as if a black cloud was rising
up.  The little birds were soon left behind.  They could go no
farther, and fell back to the ground.  The larger birds held
out longer, but none could equal the
eagle, who mounted so high that he could have plucked the eyes
out of the sun.  And when he saw that the others could not get
up to him, he thought, why should you fly still higher.  You are
the king, and began to let himself down again.  The birds beneath
him at once cried to him, you must be our king, no one has flown
so high as you.  Except me, screamed the little fellow without a
name, who had crept into the breast-feathers of the eagle.  And
as he was not at all tired, he rose up and mounted so high that
he reached heaven itself.  However, when he had gone as far as
this, he folded his wings together, and called down with clear
and penetrating voice, I am king.  I am king.
You, our king, cried the birds angrily.  You have managed it
by trick and cunning.  So they made another condition.  He
should be king who could go down lowest in the ground.  How
the goose did flap about with its broad breast when it was once
more on land.  How quickly the cock scratched a hole.  The
duck came off the worst of all, for she leapt into a ditch,
but sprained her legs, and waddled away to a neighboring pond,
crying, cheating, cheating.  The little bird without a name,
however, sought out a mouse-hole, slipped down into it, and
cried out of it with his small voice, I am king.  I am king.
You our king, cried the birds still more angrily.  Do you
think your cunning shall prevail.  They determined to keep him
a prisoner in the hole and starve him out.  The owl was placed
as sentinel in front of it, and was not to let the rascal out
if she had any value for her life.  When evening was come and all
the birds were feeling very tired after the exertion of so much
flying, they went to bed with their wives and children.
The owl alone remained standing by the mouse-hole, gazing
steadfastly into it with her great eyes.  Then she, too, grew
tired and thought to herself, you might certainly shut one eye,
you will still watch with the other, and the little villain
shall not come out of his hole.  So she shut one eye,
and with the other looked straight at the mouse-hole.  The
little fellow put his head out and peeped, and wanted to slip
away, but the owl came forward immediately, and he drew his head
back again.  Then the owl opened the one eye again, and shut the
other, intending to shut them in turn all through the
night.  But when she next shut the one eye, she forgot to open
the other, and as soon as both her eyes were shut she
fell asleep.  The little fellow soon observed that, and slipped
away.
From that day forth, the owl has never dared to show herself by
daylight, for if she does the other birds chase her and pluck her
feathers out.  She flies out only by night, but hates and
pursues mice because they make such ugly holes.  The little
bird, too, is very unwilling to let himself be seen,
because he is afraid it will cost him his life if he is caught.
He steals about in the hedges, and when he is quite safe, he
sometimes cries, I am king, and for this reason, the other
birds call him in mockery, king of the hedges.  No one, however,
was so happy as the lark at not having to obey the little
king.  As soon as the sun appears, she ascends high in the air
and cries, ah, how beautiful that is.  Beautiful that is.
Beautiful'beautiful.  Ah, how beautiful that is.
The fishes had for a long time been discontented because no
order prevailed in their kingdom.  None of them turned
aside for the others, but all swam to the right or the left
as they fancied, or darted between those who wanted to
stay together, or got into their way.  And a strong one gave
a weak one a blow with its tail, which drove it away, or else
swallowed it up without more ado.  How delightful it would be,
said they, if we had a king who enforced law and justice among us,
and they met together to choose for their ruler the one who could
cleave through the water most quickly, and give help to the
weak ones.
They placed themselves in rank and file by the shore, and the
pike gave the signal with his tail, on which they all started.
Like an arrow, the pike darted away, and with him the herring,
the gudgeon, the perch, the carp, and all the rest of them.
Even the sole swam with them, and hoped to win the race.
All at once, the cry was heard, the herring is first, the
herring is first.  Who is first, screamed angrily the flat envious
sole, who had been left far behind,  who is first.  The herring,
the herring, was the answer.  The naked herring, cried the
jealous creature, the naked herring.  Since that time the sole
has been punished by having been given a mouth on one side.
Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man
to an old cowherd.  Here, sir, where the grass is neither
too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use.  Why not,
asked the man.  Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow
there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern.  He was once
a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the
story.  The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where
flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable.
The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the
wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no
strength.  When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted
to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his
together again.  They were too high-spirited, and ran away from
him.  He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use.  They
took no notice of his calling.  The hoopoe, however, could not
even get his cows up on
their legs, so faint and weak had they become.  Up, up, up, screamed
he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand.
That is the way when one has no moderation.  And to this day,
though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries,
come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up.
Two or three hundred years ago, when people were far from being so
crafty and cunning as they are nowadays, an extraordinary event
took place in a little town.  By some mischance one of the great
owls, called horned owls, had come from the neighboring woods into
the barn of one of the townsfolk in the night-time, and when day
broke did not dare to venture forth again from her retreat, for
fear of the other birds, which raised a terrible outcry whenever
she appeared.  In the morning when the man-servant went into the
barn to fetch some straw, he was so mightily alarmed at the sight
of the owl sitting there in a corner, that he ran away and
announced to his master that a monster, the like of which he had
never set eyes on in his life, and which could devour a man
without the slightest difficulty, was sitting in the barn, rolling
its eyes about in its head.  I know your kind, said the master,
you have courage enough to chase a blackbird about the fields, but
when you see a hen lying dead, you have to get a stick before you
go near it.  I must go and see for myself what kind of a monster
it is, added the master, and went quite boldly into the granary
and looked round him.  When, however, he saw with his own eyes
the strange grim creature, he was no less terrified than the
servant had been.  With two bounds he sprang out, ran to his
neighbours, and begged them imploringly to lend him assistance
against an unknown and dangerous beast, or else the whole town
might be in danger if it
were to break loose out of the barn, where it was shut up.  A
great noise and clamor arose in all the streets, the townsmen
came armed with spears, hay-forks, scythes, and axes, as if they
were going out against an enemy.  Finally, the senators appeared
with the burgomaster at their head.  When they had drawn up in
the market-place, they marched to the barn, and surrounded it on
all sides.  Thereupon one of the most courageous of them stepped
forth and entered with his spear lowered, but came running out
immediately afterwards with a shriek and as pale as death, and
could not utter a single word.  Yet two others ventured in, but
they fared no better.  At last one stepped forth, a great strong
man who was famous for his warlike deeds, and said, you will not
drive away the monster by merely looking at him, we must be in
earnest here, but I see that you have all tuned into women, and
not one of you dares to encounter the animal.  He ordered them
to give him some armor, had a sword and spear brought, and armed
himself.  All praised his courage, though many feared for his
life.  The two barn-doors were opened, and they saw the owl, which
in the meantime had perched herself on the middle of a great
cross-beam.  He had a ladder brought, and when he raised it, and
made ready to climb up, they all cried out to him that he was to
bear himself bravely, and commended him to St. George, who slew
the dragon.  When he had just got to the top, and the owl
perceived that he had designs on her, and was also bewildered by
the crowd and the shouting, and knew not how to escape, she
rolled her eyes, ruffled her feathers, flapped her wings,
snapped her beak, and cried, tuwhit, tuwhoo, in a harsh voice.
Strike home.  Strike home.  Screamed the crowd outside to the
valiant hero.  Any one who was standing where I am standing,
answered he, would not cry, strike home.  He certainly did plant
his foot one rung higher on the ladder, but then he began to
tremble, and half-fainting, went back again.
And now there was no one left who dared to place himself in such
danger.  The monster, said they, has poisoned and mortally
wounded the very strongest man among us, by snapping at him and
just breathing on him.  Are we, too, to risk our lives.  They took
counsel as to what they ought to do to prevent the whole town from
being destroyed.  For a long time everything seemed to be of no
use, but at length the burgomaster found an expedient.  My
opinion, said he, is that we ought, out of the common purse, to
pay for this barn, and whatsoever corn, straw, or hay it contains,
and thus indemnify the owner, and then burn down the whole
building and the terrible beast with it.  Thus no one will have to
endanger his life.  This is no time for thinking of expense,
and stinginess would be ill applied.  All agreed with him.  So
they set fire to the barn at all four corners, and with it the
owl was miserably burnt.  Let any one who will not believe it,
go thither and inquire for himself.
In days gone by there was a land where the nights were always dark,
and the sky spread over it like a black cloth, for there the moon
never rose, and no star shone in the gloom.  At the creation of
the world, the light at night had been sufficient.  Three young
fellows once went out of this country on a traveling expedition,
and arrived in another kingdom, where, in the evening when the sun
had disappeared behind the mountains, a shining globe was placed
on an oak-tree, which shed a soft light far and wide.  By means
of this, everything could very well be seen and distinguished,
even though it was not so brilliant as the sun.  The travelers
stopped and
asked a countryman who was driving past with his cart, what kind
of a light that was.  That is the moon, answered he, our mayor
bought it for three talers, and fastened it to the oak-tree.  He
has to pour oil into it daily, and to keep it clean, so that it
may always burn clearly.  He receives a taler a week from us
for doing it.
When the countryman had driven away, one of them said, we could
make some use of this lamp, we have an oak-tree at home, which is
just as big as this, and we could hang it on that.  What a
pleasure it would be not to have to feel about at night in the
darkness.  I'll tell you what we'll do, said the second, we will
fetch a cart and horses and carry away the moon.  The people here
may buy themselves another.  I'm a good climber, said the third, I
will bring it down.  The fourth brought a cart and horses, and the
third climbed the tree, bored a hole in the moon, passed a rope
through it, and let it down.  When the shining ball lay in the
cart, they covered it over with a cloth, that no one might observe
the theft.  They conveyed it safely into their own country, and
placed it on a high oak.  Old and young rejoiced, when the new
lamp let its light shine over the whole land, and bed-rooms and
sitting-rooms were filled with it.  The dwarfs came forth from
their caves in the rocks, and the tiny elves in their little red
coats danced in rings on the meadows.
The four took care that the moon was provided with oil, cleaned
the wick, and received their weekly taler, but they became old
men, and when one of them grew ill, and saw that he was about to
die, he appointed that one quarter of the moon, should, as his
property, be laid in the grave with him.  When he died, the mayor
climbed up the tree, and cut off a quarter with the hedge-shears,
and this was placed in his coffin.  The light of the moon
decreased, but still not visibly.  When the second died, the
second quarter was buried with him, and the light diminished.  It
grew weaker still after the death of the third, who likewise took
his part of it away with him, and when the fourth was borne to his
grave, the old state of darkness recommenced, and whenever the
people went out at night without their lanterns they knocked
their heads together in collision.
When, however, the pieces of the moon had united themselves
together again in the world below, where darkness had always
prevailed, it came to pass that the dead became restless and awoke
from their sleep.  They were astonished when they were able to
see again, the moonlight was quite sufficient for them, for their
eyes had become so weak that they could not have borne the
brilliance of the sun.  They rose up and were merry, and fell
into their former ways of living.  Some of them went to the play
and to dance, others hastened to the public-houses, where they
asked for wine, got drunk, brawled, quarreled, and at last took
up cudgels, and belabored each other.  The noise became greater and
greater, and at last reached even to heaven.
St. Peter, who guards the gate of heaven, thought the lower world
had broken out in revolt and gathered together the heavenly hosts,
which were employed to drive back the evil one when he and his
associates storm the abode of the blessed.  As these, however,
did not come, he got on his horse and rode through the gate of
heaven, down into the world below.  There he reduced the dead to
subjection, bade them lie down in their graves again, took the
moon away with him, and hung it up in heaven.
When God created the world and was about to fix the length of
each creature's life, the ass came and asked, Lord, how long shall
I live.  Thirty years, replied God, does that content you.  Ah,
Lord, answered the ass, that is a long time.  Think of my painful
existence.  To carry heavy burdens from morning to night, to drag
sacks of corn to the mill that others may eat bread, to be
cheered and refreshed with nothing but blows and kicks.  Relieve
me of a portion of this long time.  Then God had pity on him and
relieved him of eighteen years.  The ass went away comforted, and
the dog appeared.  How long would you like to live, said God to
him, thirty years are too many for the ass, but you will be
satisfied with that.  Lord, answered the dog, is that thy will.
Consider how I shall have to run, my feet will never hold out so
long, and when I have once lost my voice for barking, and my teeth
for biting, what will be left for me to do but run from one
corner to another and growl.  God saw that he was right, and
released him from twelve years of life.  Then came the monkey.
You will certainly live thirty years willingly, said the Lord to
him, you have no need to work as the ass and the dog have to, and
will always enjoy yourself.  Ah, Lord, he answered, it may seem
as if that were the case, but it is quite different.  When it
rains millet-porridge I have no spoon.  I am always to play merry
pranks, and make faces which force people to laugh, and if they
give me an apple, and I bite into it, why, it is sour.  How often
sadness hides itself behind mirth.  I shall never be able to hold
out for thirty years.  God was gracious and took off ten.
At last man appeared, joyous, healthy and vigorous, and begged
God to appoint his time for him.  Thirty years shall you live,
said the Lord.  Is that enough for you.  What a short time, cried
man, when I have built my house and my fire burns on my own
hearth, when I have planted trees which blossom and bear fruit,
and am just intending to enjoy my life, I am to die.  O Lord,
lengthen my time.  I will add to it the ass's eighteen years, said
God.  That is not enough, replied the man.  You shall also have
the dog's twelve years.  Still too little.  Well, then, said God,
I will give you the monkey's ten years also, but more you shall
not have.  The man went away, but was not satisfied.
So man lives seventy years.  The first thirty are his human
years, which are soon gone, then is he healthy, merry, works with
pleasure, and is glad of his life.  Then follow the ass's
eighteen years, when one burden after another is laid on him, he
has to carry the corn which feeds others, and blows and kicks are
the reward of his faithful services.  Then comes the dog's twelve
years, when he lies in the corner, and growls and has no longer
any teeth to bite with, and when this time is over the monkey's
ten years form the end.  Then man is weak-headed and foolish,
does silly things, and becomes the jest of children.
In ancient times a giant was once traveling on a great highway,
when suddenly an unknown man sprang up before him, and said,
halt, not one step farther.  What.  Cried the giant, a creature
whom I can crush between my fingers, wants to block my way.  Who
are you that you dare to speak so boldly.  I am death, answered
the other.  No one resists me, and you also must obey my commands.
But the giant refused, and began to struggle with death.  It was
a long, violent battle, in which at last the giant got
the upper hand, and struck death down with his fist, so that he
collapsed by a stone.  The giant went his way, and death lay there
conquered, and so weak that he could not get up again.  What will
be done now, said he, if I stay lying here in a corner.  No one
will die in the world, and it will get so full of people that they
won't have room to stand beside each other.  In the meantime a
young man came along the road, who was strong and healthy,
singing a song, and glancing around on every side.  When he saw
the half-fainting one, he went compassionately to him, raised him
up, poured a strengthening draught out of his flask for him, and
waited till he regained some strength.  Do you know, said the
stranger, whilst he was getting up, who I am, and who it is whom
you have helped on his legs again.  No, answered the youth, I do
not know you.  I am death, said he, I spare no one, and can make
no exception with you - but that you may see that I am grateful,
I promise you that I will not fall on you unexpectedly, but will
send my messengers to you before I come and take you away.  Well,
said the youth, it is something gained that I shall know when
you come, and at any rate be safe from you for so long.  Then he
went on his way, and was light-hearted, and enjoyed himself,
and lived
without thought.  But youth and health did not last long.  Soon
came sicknesses and sorrows, which tormented him by day, and took
away his rest by night.  Die, I shall not, said he to himself, for
death will send his messengers before that, but I do wish these
wretched days of sickness were over.  As soon as he felt
himself well again he began once more to live merrily.  Then one
day someone tapped him on the shoulder.  He looked round, and
death stood behind him, and said, follow me, the hour of your
departure from this world has come.  What, replied the man, will
you break your word.  Did you not promise me that you would send
your messengers to me before coming yourself.  I have seen none.
Silence, answered death.  Have I not sent one messenger to you
after another.  Did not fever come and smite you, and shake you,
and cast you down.  Has not dizziness bewildered your head.  Has
not gout twitched you in all your limbs.  Did not your ears sing.
Did not tooth-ache bite into your cheeks.  Was it not dark before
your eyes.  And besides all that, has not my own brother sleep
reminded you every night of me.  Did you not lie by night as if
you were already dead.  The man could make no answer, he yielded
to his fate, and went away with death.
Master pfriem was a short, thin, but lively man, who never
rested a moment.  His face, of which his turned-up nose was
the only prominent feature, was marked with smallpox and pale as
death.  His hair was gray and shaggy, his eyes small, but they
glanced perpetually about on all sides.  He saw everything,
criticized everything, knew everything best, and was always in
the right.  When he went into the streets, he moved his arms
about as if he were rowing, and once he struck the pail of a girl
so high in the air that he himself was wetted all over by the
water she was carrying.  Idiot.  Cried he to her, shaking
himself, could you not see that I was coming behind you.  By trade
he was a shoemaker, and when he worked he pulled his thread out
with such force that he drove his fist into everyone who did not
keep far enough off.  No apprentice stayed more than a month with
him, for he had always some fault to find with the very best work.
At one time it was that the stitches were not even, at another
that one shoe was too long, or one heel higher than the other,
or the leather not cut large enough.  Wait, said he to his
apprentice, I will soon show you how we make skins soft.  And
he brought a strap and gave him a couple of lashes across the
back.  He called them all sluggards.  He
himself did not turn much work out of his hands, for he never sat
still for a quarter of an hour.  If his wife got up very early in
the morning and lighted the fire, he jumped out of bed, and ran
barefooted into the kitchen, crying, will you burn my house down
for me.  That is a fire one could roast an ox by.  Does wood cost
nothing.  If the servants were standing by their wash-tubs and
laughing, and telling each other what they knew, he scolded them,
and said, there stand the geese cackling, and forgetting their
work, to gossip.  And why fresh soap.  Disgraceful extravagance
and shameful idleness into the bargain.  They want to save their
hands, and not rub the things properly.  And out he would run and
knock a pail full of soap and water over, so that the whole
kitchen was flooded.  Someone was building a new house, so he
hurrried to the window to look on.  There, they are using that
red sand-stone again that never dries, cried he.  No one will
ever be healthy in that house.  And just look how badly the
fellows are laying the stones.  Besides, the mortar is good for
nothing.  It ought to have gravel in it, not sand.  I shall live
to see that house tumble down on the people who are in it.
He sat down, put a couple of stitches in, and then jumped up
again, unfastened his leather-apron, and cried, I will just go
out, and appeal to those men's consciences.  He stumbled on the
carpenters.  What's this, cried he, you are not working by the
line.  Do you expect the beams to be straight - one wrong will
put all wrong.  He snatched an axe out of a carpenter's hand and
wanted to show him how he ought to cut, but as a cart loaded
with clay came by, he threw the axe away, and hastened to the
peasant who was walking by the side of it, you are not in your
right mind, said he, who yokes young horses to a heavily-laden
cart.  The poor beasts will die on the spot.  The peasant did
not give him an answer, and pfriem in a rage ran back into his
work-shop.  When he was setting himself to work again, the
apprentice reached him a shoe.  Well, what's that again, screamed
he, haven't I told you you ought not to cut shoes so broad.  Who
would buy a shoe like this, which is hardly anything else but a
sole.  I insist on my orders being followed exactly.  Master,
answered the apprentice, you may easily be quite right about the
shoe being a bad one, but it is the one which you yourself cut
out, and yourself set to work at.  When you jumped up a while
ago, you knocked it off the table, and I have only just picked it
up.  An angel from heaven, however, would never make you believe
that.
One night master pfriem dreamed he was dead, and on his way to
heaven.  When he got there, he knocked loudly at the door.  I
wonder, said he to himself, that they have no knocker on the door,
one knocks one's knuckles sore.  The apostle peter opened the door,
and wanted to see who demanded admission so noisily.  Ah, it's you
master pfriem, said he, well, I'll let you in, but I warn you
that you must give up that habit of yours, and find fault with
nothing you see in heaven, or you may fare ill.  You might have
spared your warning, answered pfriem.  I know already what is
seemly, and here, God be thanked, everything is perfect, and there
is nothing to blame as there is on earth.  So he went in, and
walked up and down the wide expanses of heaven.  He looked
around him, to the left and to the right, but sometimes shook his
head, or muttered something to himself.  Then he saw two angels
who were carrying away a beam.  It was the beam which someone had
had in his own eye whilst he was looking for the splinter in the
eye of another.  They did not carry the beam lengthways,
however, but obliquely.  Did anyone ever see such a piece of
stupidity, thought master pfriem.  But he said nothing, and seemed
satisfied with it.  It comes to the same thing after all,
whichever way they carry the beam, straight or athwart, if they
only get along with it, and truly I do not see them knock against
anything.  Soon after this he saw two angels who were drawing
water out of a well into a bucket, but at the same time he
observed that the bucket was full of holes, and that the water
was running out of it on every side.  They were watering the
earth with rain.  Hang it, he exclaimed, but happily recollected
himself, and thought, perhaps it is only a pastime.  If it is
an amusement, then it seems they can do useless things of this
kind, especially here in heaven, where people, as I have already
noticed, do nothing but idle about.  He went farther
and saw a cart which had stuck fast in a deep hole.  It's no
wonder, said he to the man who stood by, who would load so
unreasonably.  What have you there.  Good wishes, replied the man,
I could not get on the right way with it, but still I have pushed
it safely up here, and here they won't leave me stuck.  In fact
an angel did come and harness two horses to it.  That's quite
right, thought pfriem, but two horses won't get that cart out, it
must at least have four to it.  Another angel came and brought
two more horses, she did not harness them in front of it,
however, but behind.  That was too much for master pfriem, clumsy
creature, he burst out, what are you doing there.  Has anyone
ever since the world began seen a cart drawn in that way.  But
you, in your conceited arrogance, think that you know everything
best.  He was going to say more, but one of the inhabitants of
heaven seized him by the throat and pushed him forth with
irresistible strength.  Beneath the gateway master pfriem turned
his head round to take one more look at the cart, and saw that it
was being raised into the air by four winged horses.
At this moment master pfriem awoke.  Things are certainly
arranged in heaven otherwise than they are on earth, said he to
himself, and that excuses much, but who can see horses harnessed
both behind and before with patience.  To be sure they had wings
but who could know that.  It is, beside, great folly to fix a
pair of wings to a horse that has four legs to run with already.
But I must get up, or else they will make nothing but mistakes
in my house.  It is a lucky thing though, that I am not
really dead.
A tailor and a goldsmith were traveling together, and one evening
when the sun had sunk behind the mountains, they heard the sound
of distant music, which became more and more distinct.  It sounded
strange, but so pleasant that they forgot all their weariness
and stepped quickly onwards.  The moon had already arisen
when they reached a hill on which they saw a crowd of little men
and women, who had taken each other's hands, and were whirling
round in the dance with the greatest pleasure and delight.
They sang to it most charmingly, and that was the music which the
travelers had heard.  In the midst of them sat an old man who was
rather taller than the rest.  He wore a parti-colored coat, and his
hoary beard hung down over his breast.  The two remained standing
full of astonishment, and watched the dance.  The old man made
a sign that they should enter, and the little folks willingly opened
their circle.  The goldsmith, who had a hump, and like all
hunch-backs was daring enough, stepped in.  The tailor felt a little
afraid at first, and held back, but when he saw how merrily all
was going, he plucked up his courage, and followed.  The circle
closed again directly, and the little folks went on singing and
dancing with the wildest leaps.  The old man, however, took a
large knife which hung to his girdle, whetted it, and when it was
sufficiently sharpened, he looked round at the strangers.  They
were terrified, but they had not much time for reflection, for the
old man seized the goldsmith and with the greatest speed, shaved
the hair of his head clean off, and then the same thing happened to
the tailor.  But their fear left them when, after he had finished
his work, the old man clapped them both on the shoulder in a
friendly manner, as much as to say, they had behaved well to let
all that be done to them willingly, and without any struggle.  He
pointed with his finger to a heap of coals which lay at one side,
and signified to the travelers by his gestures that they were to
fill their pockets with them.  Both of them obeyed, although they
did not know of what use the coals would be to them, and
then they went on their way to seek a shelter for the night.
When they had got into the valley, the clock of the neighboring
monastery struck twelve, and the song ceased.  In a moment all had
vanished, and the hill lay in solitude in the moonlight.
The two travelers found an inn, and covered themselves up on their
straw-beds with their coats, but in their weariness forgot to take
the coals out of them before doing so.  A heavy weight on their
limbs awakened them earlier than usual.  They felt in the pockets,
and could not believe their eyes when they saw that they were not
filled with coals, but with pure gold.  Happily, too, the hair of
their heads and beards was there again as thick as ever.
They had now become rich folks, but the goldsmith, who, in
accordance with his greedy disposition, had filled his pockets
better, was twice as rich as the tailor.  A greedy man, even if he
has much,
still wishes to have more, so the goldsmith proposed to the tailor
that they should wait another day, and go out again in the evening
in order to bring back still greater treasures from the old man on
the hill.  The tailor refused, and said, I have enough and am
content.  Now I shall be a master, and marry my dear object -
for so he called his sweetheart - and I am a happy man.  But he
stayed another day to please him.  In the evening the goldsmith
hung a couple of bags over his shoulders that he might be able
to stow away a great deal, and took the road to the hill.  He
found, as on the night before, the little folks at their singing
and dancing, and the old man again shaved him clean, and made
signs to him to take some coal.  He was not slow about stuffing
as much into his bags as would go, went back quite delighted,
and covered himself over with his
coat.  Even if the gold does weigh heavily, said he, I will gladly
bear that, and at last he fell asleep with the sweet anticipation
of waking in the morning an enormously rich man.
When he opened his eyes, he got up in haste to examine his
pockets, but how amazed he was when he drew nothing out of them
but black coals, and that howsoever often he put his hands in
them.  The gold I got the night before is still there for me,
thought he, and went and brought it out, but how shocked he was when
he saw that it likewise had again turned into coal.  He smote his
forehead with his dusty black hand, and then he felt that his
whole head was bald and smooth, as was also the place where his
beard should have been.  But his misfortunes were not yet over.  He
now remarked for the first time that in addition to the
hump on his back, a second, just as large, had grown in front on
his breast.  Then he recognized the punishment of his
greediness, and began to weep aloud.  The good tailor, who was
awakened by this, comforted the unhappy fellow as well as he could,
and said, you have been my comrade in my traveling time.  You shall
stay with me and share in my wealth.  He kept his word, but the
poor goldsmith was obliged to carry the two humps as long as he
lived, and to cover his bald head with a cap.
A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing,
took it into his head to go abroad for a while, and look about
the world.  As soon as he could manage it, he left his
work-shop, and wandered on his way, over hill and dale,
sometimes hither, sometimes, thither, but ever on and on.  Once on
his way he perceived in the blue distance a steep hill, and behind
it a tower
reaching to the clouds, which rose up out of a wild dark forest.
Thunder and lightning, cried the tailor, what is that, and as he
was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went boldly towards it. But
how he did gaze and gape when he came near it, for the tower had
legs, and leapt in one bound over the steep hill, and was now
standing as an all-powerful giant before him.  What do you want here,
you tiny fly's leg, cried the giant, with a voice as if it were
thundering on every side.  The tailor whimpered, I want just to
look about and see if I can earn a bit of bread for myself, in
this forest.  If that is what you are after, said the giant,
you may have a place with me.  If it must be, why not.  What wages
shall I receive.  You shall hear what wages you shall have.  Every
year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when it is leap-year,
one more into the bargain.  Does that suit you.  All right,
replied the tailor, and thought, in his own mind, a man must cut
his coat according to his cloth.  I will try to get away as fast as
I can.
At this the giant said to him, go, little ragamuffin, and fetch
me a jug of water.  Had I not better bring the well itself
at once, and the spring too, asked the boaster, and went with the
pitcher to the water.  What, the well and the spring too, growled
the giant in his beard, for he was somewhat of a silly dolt, and
began
to be afraid.  That knave is not a fool, he has a mandrake in
his body.  Be on your guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for
you.  When the tailor had brought the water, the giant bade
him go into the forest, and cut a couple of blocks of
wood and bring them back.  Why not the whole forest, at once,
with one stroke.  The whole forest, young and old, with
all that is there, both gnarled and smooth, and the well and its
spring too, growled the credulous giant in his beard, and was still
more terrified.  The knave can do much more than bake apples, and
has a mandrake in his body.  Be on your guard, old Hans, this is
no serving-man for you.  When the tailor had brought the wood, the
giant commanded
him to shoot two or three wild boars for supper.  Why not
rather a thousand at one shot, and bring them all here, inquired
the insolent tailor.  What, cried the timid giant in great terror.
Let well alone to-night, and lie down to rest.
The giant was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an
eye all night long for thinking what would be the best way to
get rid of this accursed sorcerer of a servant.  Time
brings counsel.  Next morning the giant and the tailor went to a
marsh, round which stood a number of willow-trees.  Then said
the giant, listen, tailor, seat yourself on one of the
willow-branches.  I long of all things to see if you are big enough
to bend it down.  All at once the tailor was sitting on it, holding
his breath, and making himself heavy, so heavy that the bough
bent down.  When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it
hurled him - for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his
pocket - so high into the air that he never was seen again, and
this to the great delight of the giant.  If the tailor has not
fallen down again, he must still be hovering about in the air.
A merchant had done good business at the fair.  He had sold his
wares, and lined his money-bags with gold and silver.  Then he
wanted to travel homewards, and be in his own house before
nightfall.  So he packed his trunk with the money on his horse,
and rode away.
At noon he rested in a town, and when he wanted to go farther
the stable-boy brought out his horse and said, a nail is
wanting, sir, in the shoe of its near hind foot.  Let it be
wanting, answered the merchant.  The shoe will certainly stay on
for the six miles I have still to go.  I am in a hurry.
In the afternoon, when he once more alighted and had his horse
fed, the stable-boy went into the room to him and said, sir, a
shoe is missing from your horse's near hind foot.  Shall I take
him to the blacksmith.  Let it be wanting, answered the man.
The horse can very well hold out for the couple of miles which
remain.  I am in haste.
He rode forth, but before long the horse began to limp.  It had
not limped long before it began to stumble, and it had not
stumbled long before it fell down and broke its leg.  The
merchant was forced
to leave the horse where it was, and unbuckle the trunk, take it
on his back, and go home on foot.  And there he did not arrive
until quite late at night.  And that cursed nail, said he to
himself, has caused all this disaster.
The more haste the less speed.
This story, my dear young folks, seems to be false, but it really
is true, for my grandfather, from whom I have it, used always,
when relating it, to say, it must be true, my son, or else no
one could tell it to you.  The story is as follows.  One sunday
morning about harvest time, just as the buckwheat was in bloom,
the sun was shining brightly in heaven, the east wind was
blowing warmly over the stubble-fields, the larks were singing
in the air, the bees buzzing among the buckwheat, the people
in their sunday clothes were all going to church, and all creatures
were happy, and the hedgehog was happy too.
The hedgehog, however, was standing by his door with his arms
akimbo, enjoying the morning breezes, and slowly trilling a
little song to himself, which was neither better nor worse than
the songs which hedgehogs are in the habit of singing on a blessed
sunday morning.  Whilst he was thus singing half aloud to himself,
it suddenly occurred to him that, while his wife was washing and
drying the children, he might very well take a walk into the field,
and see how his turnips were getting on.  The turnips, in fact,
were close beside his house, and he and his family were accustomed
to eat them, for which reason he looked upon them as his own.
No sooner said than
done.  The hedgehog shut the house-door behind him, and took the
path to the field.  He had not gone very far from home, and
was just turning round the sloe-bush which stands there outside the
field, to go up into the turnip-field, when he observed the hare
who had gone out on business of the same kind, namely, to visit his
cabbages.  When the hedgehog caught sight of the hare, he bade him
a friendly good morning.  But the hare, who was in his own way a
distinguished gentleman, and frightfully haughty, did not return
the hedgehog's greeting, but said to him, assuming at the same
time a very contemptuous manner, how do you happen to be
running about here in the field so early in the morning.  I am
taking a walk, said the hedgehog.  A walk, said the hare, with
a smile.  It seems to me that you might use your legs for a better
purpose.  This answer made the hedgehog furiously angry, for he
can bear anything but a reference too his legs, just because they
are crooked by nature.  So now the hedgehog said to the hare, you
seem to imagine that you can do more with your legs than I with
mine.  That is just what I do think, said the hare.  That can
be put to the test, said the hedgehog.  I wager that if we run
a race, I will outstrip you.  That is ridiculous.  You with your
short legs, said the hare, but for my part I am willing, if you
have such a monstrous fancy for it.  What shall we wager.  A
golden louis-d'or and a bottle of brandy, said the hedgehog.  Done,
said the hare.  Shake hands on it, and then we may as well begin
at once.  Nay, said the hedgehog, there is no such great hurry.
I am still fasting, I will go home first, and have a little
breakfast.  In half-an-hour I will be back again at this
place.
Hereupon the hedgehog departed, for the hare was quite satisfied
with this.  On his way the hedgehog thought to himself, the hare
relies on his long legs, but I will contrive to get the better
of him.  He may be a great man, but he is a very silly fellow,
and he shall pay for what he has said.  So when the hedgehog
reached home, he said to his wife, wife, dress yourself quickly,
you must go out to the field with me.  What is going on, then,
said his wife.  I have made a wager with the hare, for a gold
louis-d'or and a bottle of
brandy.  I am to run a race with him, and you must be present.
Good heavens, husband, the wife now cried, are you not right in
your mind, have you completely lost your wits.  What can make
you want to run a race with the hare.  Hold your tongue, woman,
said the hedgehog, that is my affair.  Don't begin to discuss
things which are matters for men.  Be off, dress yourself, and
come with me.  What could the hedgehog's wife do.  She was forced
to obey him, whether she liked it or not.
So when they had set out on their way together, the hedgehog
said to his wife, now pay attention to what I am going to say.
Look you, I will make the long field our race-course.  The hare
shall run in one furrow, and when the hare arrives at the end
of the furrow on the other side of you, you must cry out to him,
I am here already.
Then they reached the field, and the hedgehog showed his wife
her place, and then walked up the field.  When he reached the
top, the hare was already there.  Shall we start, said the
hare.  Certainly, said the hedgehog.  Then both at once.  So
saying, each placed himself in his own furrow.  The hare counted,
once, twice, thrice, and away, and went off like a whirlwind
down the field.  The hedgehog, however, only ran about three
paces, and then he crouched down in the furrow, and stayed
quietly where he was.
When the hare therefore arrived at full speed at the lower end
of the field, the hedgehog's wife met him with the cry, I am
here already.  The hare was shocked and wondered not a little,
he thought no other than that it was the hedgehog himself who was
calling to him, for the hedgehog's wife looked just like her
husband.  The hare, however, thought to himself, that has not
been done fairly, and cried, it must be run again, let us have it
again.  And once more he went off like the wind in a storm, so
that he seemed to fly.  But the hedgehog's wife stayed quietly
in her place.  So when the hare reached the top of the field, the
hedgehog himself cried out to him, I am here already.  The
hare, however, quite beside himself
with anger, cried, it must be run again, we must have it again.
All right, answered the hedgehog, for my part we'll run as often
as you choose.  So the hare ran seventy-three times more, and
the hedgehog always held out against him, and every time the
hare reached either the top or the bottom, either the hedgehog
or his wife said, I am here already.
At the seventy-fourth time, however, the hare could no longer
reach the end.  In the middle of the field he fell to the
ground, blood streamed out of his mouth, and he lay dead on
the spot.  But the hedgehog took the louis-d'or which he had
won and the bottle of brandy, called his wife out of the furrow,
and both went home together in great delight, and if they are not
dead, they are living there still.
This is how it happened that the hedgehog made the hare run races
with him on the heath of buxtehude - buxtehude is a village near
hamburg - till he died, and since that time no hare has ever
had any fancy for running races with a buxtehude hedgehog.
The moral of this story is, firstly, that no one, however great
he may be, should permit himself to jest at any one beneath him,
even if he be only a hedgehog.  And, secondly, it teaches, that
when a man marries, he should take a wife in his own position,
who looks just as he himself looks.  So whosoever is a
hedgehog let him see to it that his wife is a hedgehog also,
and so forth.
There was once upon a time a far-sighted, crafty peasant whose
tricks were much talked about.  The best story, however, is
how he once got hold of the devil, and made a fool of him.
The peasant had one day been working in his field, and as
twilight had set in, was making ready for the journey home, when
he saw a heap of burning coals in the middle of his field,
and when,
full of astonishment, he went up to it, a little black devil
was sitting on the live coals.  Are you sitting upon a treasure,
said the peasant.  Yes, in truth, replied the devil, on a treasure
which contains more gold and silver than you have ever seen in
your life.  The treasure lies in my field and belongs to me, said
the peasant.  It is yours, answered the devil, if you will for
two years give me one half of everything your field produces.
Money I have enough, but I have a desire for the fruits of the
earth.  The peasant agreed to the bargain.  In order, however,
that no dispute may arise about the division, said he, everything
that is above ground shall belong to you, and what is under the
earth to me.  The devil was quite satisfied with that, but the
cunning peasant had sown turnips.
Now when the time for harvest came, the devil appeared and
wanted to take away his crop.  But he found nothing but the
yellow withered leaves, while the peasant, full of delight,
was digging up his turnips.  You have had the best of it for once,
said the devil, but the next time that won't do.  What grows
above ground shall be yours, and what is under it, mine.  I am
willing, replied the peasant.  But when the time came to sow, he
did not again sow turnips, but wheat.  The grain became ripe,
and the peasant went into the field and cut the full stalks
down to the ground.  When the devil came, he found nothing but
the stubble, and went away in a fury down into a cleft in the
rocks.  That is the way to cheat the devil, said the
peasant, and went and fetched away the treasure.
George one day said to his little chickens, come into the
parlor and enjoy yourselves, and pick up the bread-crumbs
on the table.  Your mistress has gone out to pay some visits.
Then the chickens said, no, no, we will not go.  If
the mistress gets to know it, she will beat us.  George said,
she will
know nothing about it.  So come.  After all, she never gives
you anything good.  Then the chickens again said, nay, nay, we
must let it alone.  We must not go.  But george let them have
no peace until at last they went, and got on the table, and ate
up the bread-crumbs with all their might.  But at that very moment
the mistress came, and seized the stick in great haste, and
beat them and treated them very harshly.  And when they were
outside the house, the chickens said to george, do, do, do, do,
do, you see.  Then george laughed and said, didn't, didn't, didn't,
I expect it.  So they just had to run away.
A rich farmer was one day standing in his yard inspecting his
fields and gardens.  The corn was growing up vigorously
and the fruit-trees were heavily laden with fruit.  The grain
of the year before still lay in such immense heaps in the loft that
the rafters could hardly bear it.  Then he went into the stable,
where were well-fed oxen, fat cows, and horses bright as
looking-glass.  At length he went back into his sitting-room, and
cast a glance at the iron chest in which his money lay.
Whilst he was thus standing surveying his riches, all at once there
was a loud knock close by him.  The knock was not at the door of
his room, but at the door of his heart.  It opened, and he heard
a voice which said to him, have you done good to your family with
it.  Have you considered the necessities of the poor.  Have you
shared your bread with the hungry.  Have you been contented with
what you have, or did you always desire to have more.  The heart
was not slow in answering, I have been hard and pitiless, and have
never shown any kindness to my own family.  If a beggar came, I
turned away my eyes from him.  I have not troubled myself about
God, but have thought only of increasing my wealth.  If everything
which the sky covers had been mine own, I should still not have
had enough.
When he was aware of this answer he was greatly alarmed, his
knees began to tremble, and he was forced to sit down.
Then there was another knock, but the knock was at the door of
his room.  It was his neighbor, a poor man who had a number of
children whom he could no longer satisfy with food.  I know, thought
the poor man, that my neighbor is rich, but he is as hard as he is
rich.  I don't believe he will help me, but my children are
crying for bread, so I will venture it.  He said to the rich man,
you do not readily give away anything that is yours, but I stand
here like one who feels the water rising above his head.  My
children are starving, lend me four measures of corn.  The rich man
looked at him long, and then the first sunbeam of mercy began to
melt away a drop of the ice of greediness.  I will not lend you
four measures, he answered.  I will make you a present of eight,
but you must fulfil one condition.  What am I to do, said the poor
man.  When I am dead, you shall watch for three nights by my
grave.  The peasant was disturbed in his mind at this request, but
in the need in which he was, he would have consented to anything.
He accepted, therefore, and carried the corn home with him.
It seemed as if the rich man had foreseen what was about to happen,
for when three days were gone by, he suddenly dropped down dead.
No one knew exactly how it came to pass, but no one grieved for him.
When he was buried, the poor man remembered his promise.  He
would willingly have been released from it, but he thought,
after all, he acted kindly by me.  I have fed my hungry children
with his corn, and even if that were not the case, where I have
once given my promise I must keep it.  At nightfall he went into
the churchyard, and seated himself on the grave-mound.  Everything
was quiet, only the moon appeared above the grave, and frequently
an owl flew past and uttered her melancholy cry.  When the sun
rose, the poor man betook himself in safety to his home, and in the
same manner the second night passed quietly by.  On the evening
of the third day he felt a strange uneasiness, it seemed to him that
something was about to happen.  When he went out he saw, by the
churchyard-wall, a man whom he had never seen before.  He
was no longer young, had scars on his face, and his eyes looked
sharply and eagerly around.  He was entirely covered with an old
cloak, and nothing was visible but his great riding-boots.  What
are you looking for here, the peasant asked.  Are you not afraid
of the lonely churchyard.
I am looking for nothing, he answered, and I am afraid of
nothing.  I am like the youngster who went forth to learn how to
shudder, and had his labor for his pains, but got the king's
daughter to wife and great wealth with her, only I have remained
poor.  I am nothing but a paid-off soldier, and I mean to pass
the night here, because I have no other shelter.  If you are without
fear, said the peasant, stay with me, and help me to watch that
grave there.
To keep watch is a soldier's business, he replied, whatever we
fall in with here, whether it be good or bad, we will share it
between us.  The peasant agreed to this, and they seated themselves
on the grave together.
All was quiet until midnight, when suddenly a shrill whistling
was heard in the air, and the two watchers perceived the evil one
standing bodily before them.  Be off, you scoundrels, cried he to
them, the man who lies in that grave belongs to me.  I want to
take him, and if you don't go away I will wring your necks.  Sir
with the red feather, said the soldier, you are not my captain,
I have no need to obey you, and I have not yet learned what fear
is.  Go away, we shall stay sitting here.
The devil thought to himself, money is the best means with which
to lay hold of these two vagabonds.  So he began to play a
softer tune, and asked quite kindly, if they would not accept
a bag of money, and go home with it.  That is worth listening
to, answered the soldier, but one bag of gold won't serve us.  If
you will give as much as will go into one of my boots, we will quit
the field for you and go away.
I have not so much as that about me, said the devil, but I will
fetch it.  In the neighboring town lives a money-changer who is a
good friend of mine, and will readily advance it to me.  When the
devil had vanished the soldier took his left boot off, and said,
we will soon pull the charcoal-burner's nose for him, just give me
your knife, comrade.  He cut the sole off the boot, and put it
in the high grass near the grave on the edge of a hole that was
half over-grown.  That will do, said he.  Now the chimney-sweep
may come.
They both sat down and waited, and it was not long before the
devil returned with a small bag of gold in his hand.  Just pour
it in, said the soldier, raising up the boot a little, but that
won't be enough.
The black one shook out all that was in the bag.  The gold fell
through, and the boot remained empty.  Stupid devil, cried the
soldier, it won't do.  Didn't I say so at once.  Go back again, and
bring more.  The devil shook his head, went, and in an hour's
time came with a much larger bag under his arm.  Now pour it in,
cried the soldier, but I doubt the boot will be full.  The gold
clinked as it fell, but the boot remained empty.  The devil looked
in himself with his burning eyes, and convinced himself of the
truth.  You have shamefully big calves to your legs, cried he,
and made a wry face.  Did you think, replied the soldier, that I had
a cloven foot like  you.  Since when have you been so stingy.  See
that you get more gold together, or our bargain will come to
nothing.  The wicked one went off again.  This time he stayed
away longer, and when at length he appeared he was panting under
the weight of a sack which lay on his shoulders.  He emptied it into
the boot, which was just as far from being filled as before.  He
became furious, and was just going to tear the boot out of the
soldier's hands, but at that moment the first ray of the rising
sun broke forth from the sky, and the evil spirit fled away with
loud shrieks.  The poor soul was saved.
The peasant wished to divide the gold, but the soldier said,
give what falls to my lot to the poor, I will come with you to your
cottage, and together we will live in rest and peace on what
remains, as long as God is pleased to permit.
A soldier who is afraid of nothing, troubles himself about
nothing.  One of this kind had received his discharge, and
as he had learnt no trade and could earn nothing, he traveled
about and begged alms of kind people.  He had an old rain-coat
on his back, and a pair of riding-boots of buffalo-leather which
were still left to him.  One day he was walking he knew not where,
straight out into the open country, and at length came to a forest.
He did not know where he was, but saw sitting on the trunk of a
tree, which had been cut down, a man who was well dressed and
wore a green shooting-coat.  The soldier shook hands with him, sat
down on the grass by his side, and stretched out his legs.  I see
you have good boots on, which are well blacked, said he to the
huntsman, but if you had to travel about as I have, they would
not last long.  Look at mine, they are of buffalo-leather, and
have been worn for a long time, but in them I can go through thick
and thin.  After a while the soldier got up and said, I can stay
no longer, hunger drives me onwards, but, brother brightboots,
where does this road lead to.  I don't know that myself, answered
the huntsman, I have lost my way in the forest.  Then you are in the
same plight as I, said the soldier.  Birds of a feather flock
together, let us remain together, and seek our way.  The huntsman
smiled a little, and they walked on further and further, until
night fell.  We do not get out of the forest, said the soldier,
but there in the distance I see a light shining.  There we might
find something to eat.  They found a stone house, knocked at the
door, and an old woman opened it.  We are looking for quarters for
the night, said the soldier, and some lining for our stomachs, for
mine is as empty as
an old knapsack.  You cannot stay here, answered the old woman.
This is a robbers, house, and you would do wisely to get away
before they come home, or you will be lost.  It won't be so bad
as that, answered the soldier, I have not had a mouthful for two
days, and whether I am murdered here or die of hunger in the
forest is all the same to me.  I shall come in.  The huntsman
would not follow, but the soldier drew him in with him by the
sleeve.  Come, my dear brother, we shall not come to an end so
quickly as that.  The old woman had pity on them and said, creep
in here behind the stove, and if they leave anything, I will give
it to you on the sly when they are asleep.  Scarcely were they in
the corner before twelve robbers came bursting in, seated themselves
at the table which was already laid, and vehemently demanded some
food.  The old woman brought in some great dishes of roast meat,
and the robbers enjoyed that thoroughly.  When the soldier smelled
the food, he said to the huntsman, I cannot hold out any
longer, I shall seat myself at the table, and eat with them.  You
will bring us to destruction, said the huntsman, and held him back
by the arm.  But the soldier began to cough loudly.  When the
robbers heard that, they threw away their knives and forks, leapt
up, and discovered the two who were behind the stove.  Aha,
gentlemen, are you in the corner, cried they.  What are you doing
here.  Have you been sent as spies.  Wait a while, and you shall
learn how to
fly on a dry bough.  But do be civil, said the soldier, I am
hungry, give me something to eat, and then you can do what you
like with me.  The robbers were astonished, and the captain said,
I see that you have no fear.  Well, you shall have some food,
but after that you must die.  We shall see, said the soldier, and
seated himself at the table, and began to cut away valiantly at the
roast meat.  Brother brightboots, come and eat, cried he to the
huntsman.  You must be as hungry as I am, and cannot have better
roast meat at home, but the huntsman would not eat.  The robbers
looked at the soldier in astonishment, and said, the rascal uses
no ceremony.  After a while he said, I have had enough food, now
get me something good to drink.  The chief of the robbers was
in the mood to humor him in this also, and called to the old
woman, bring a bottle out of the cellar, and mind it be of the
best.  The soldier drew the cork out with a loud noise, and then
went with the bottle to the huntsman and said, watch this, brother,
and you shall see something that will surprise you.  I am now going
to drink the health of the whole clan.  Then he brandished the
bottle over the heads of the robbers, and cried, long life to
you all, but with your mouths open and your right hands lifted
up, and then he drank a hearty draught.  Scarcely were the
words said than they all sat motionless as if made of stone,
and their mouths were open and their right hands stretched up in
the air.  The huntsman said to the soldier, I see that you are
acquainted with tricks of another kind, but now come and let us
go home.  Oho, my dear brother, but that would be marching
away far too soon.  We have conquered the enemy, and must first
take the booty.  Those men there are sitting fast, and are opening
their mouths with astonishment, but they will not be allowed to
move until I permit them.  Come, eat and drink.  The old woman
had to bring another bottle of the best wine, and the soldier would
not stir until he had eaten enough to last for three days.  At
last when day came, he said, now it is time to strike our tents,
and in order that our march may be a short one, the old woman
shall show us the nearest way to the town.

When they had arrived there, he went to his old comrades, and
said, out in the forest I have found a nest full of gallows,
birds, come with me and we will take it.  The soldier led them,
and said to the huntsman, you must go back again with me to see
how they flutter when we seize them by the feet.  He placed
the men round about the robbers, and then he took the bottle,
drank a mouthful, brandished it above them, and cried, long life
to you all.  Instantly they all regained the power of movement,
but were thrown down and bound hand and foot with cords.
Then the soldier ordered them to be thrown into a cart as if
they had been so many sacks, and said, now drive them straight
to prison.  The huntsman, however, took one of the men aside
and gave him another commission as well.

Brother brightboots, said the soldier, we have safely routed
the enemy and been well fed, now we will quietly walk behind
them as if we were stragglers.  When they approached the town,
the soldier saw a crowd of people pouring through the gate of
the town who were raising loud cries of joy, and waving green
boughs in the air.  Then he saw that the entire body-guard was
coming up.  What can this mean, said he to the huntsman.

Don't you know, he replied, that the king has for a long time
been absent from his kingdom, and that today he is returning,
and every one is going to meet him.  But where is the king,
said the soldier.  I do not see him.  Here he is, answered
the huntsman, I am the king, and have announced my arrival.

Then he opened his hunting-coat, and his royal garments were
visible.  The soldier was alarmed, and fell on his knees and
begged him to forgive him for having in his ignorance treated
him as an equal, and spoken to him by such a name.  But the
king shook hands with him, and said, you are a brave soldier,
and have saved my life.  You shall never again be in want,
I will take care of you.  And if ever you would like to eat
a piece of roast meat, as good as that in the robber's house,
come to the royal kitchen.  But if you would drink a health,
you must first ask my permission.

In the winter time, when deep snow lay on the ground, a poor
boy was forced to go out on a sledge to fetch wood.  When he
had gathered it together, and packed it, he wished, as he was so
frozen with cold, not to go home at once, but to light a fire and
warm himself a little.  So he scraped away the snow, and as he
was thus clearing the ground, he found a tiny golden key.
Hereupon he thought that where the key was, the lock must be also,

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