Then the Youth took the axe and split the anvil with one blow, catching in the Old Man's beard at the same time.
‘No,’ said he. ‘What can it be? My dead cousin was there, and an Old Man with a beard came and showed me a lot of gold. But what shuddering is, that no man can tell me.’
Then said the King: ‘You have broken the spell on the castle, and you shall marry my daughter.’
‘That is all very well,’ he said; ‘but still I don’t know what shuddering is.’
The gold was got out of the castle, and the marriage was celebrated, but, happy as the young King was, and much as he loved his wife, he was always saying: ‘Oh, if only I could learn to shudder, if only I could learn to shudder.’
At last his wife was vexed by it, and her waiting-woman said: ‘I can help you; he shall be taught the meaning of shuddering.’
And she went out to the brook which ran through the garden and got a pail full of cold water and little fishes.
At night, when the young King was asleep, his wife took the coverings off and poured the cold water over him, and all the little fishes flopped about him.
Then he woke up, and cried: ‘Oh, how I am shuddering, dear wife, how I am shuddering! Now I know what shuddering is!’
THERE was once a King who had a Daughter. She was more beautiful than words can tell, but at the same time so proud and haughty that no man who came to woo her was good enough for her. She turned away one after another, and even mocked them.
One day her father ordered a great feast to be given, and invited to it all the marriageable young men from far and near.
They were all placed in a row, according to their rank and position. First came Kings, then Princes, then Dukes, Earls, and Barons.
The Princess was led through the ranks, but she had some fault to find with all of them.
One was too stout. ‘That barrel!’ she said. The next was too tall. ‘Long and lean is no good!’ The third was too short. ‘Short and stout, can’t turn about!’ The fourth was too white. ‘Pale as death!’ The fifth was too red. ‘Turkey-cock!’ The sixth was not straight. ‘Oven-dried!’
So there was something against each of them. But she made specially merry over one good King, who stood quite at the head of the row, and whose chin was a little hooked.
‘Why!’ she cried, ‘he has a chin like the beak of a thrush.’
After that, he was always called ‘King Thrushbeard.’
When the old King saw that his Daughter only made fun of them, and despised all the suitors who were assembled, he was very angry, and swore that the first beggar who came to the door should be her husband.
A few days after, a wandering Musician began to sing at the window, hoping to receive charity.
When the King heard him, he said: ‘Let him be brought in.’
The Musician came in, dressed in dirty rags, and sang to the King and his Daughter, and when he had finished, he begged alms of them.
The King said: ‘Your song has pleased me so much, that I will give you my Daughter to be your wife.’
The Princess was horror-stricken. But the King said: ‘I have sworn an oath to give you to the first beggar who came; and I will keep my word.’
No entreaties were of any avail. A Parson was brought, and she had to marry the Musician there and then.
When the marriage was completed, the King said: ‘Now you are a beggar-woman, you can’t stay in my castle any longer. You must go away with your Husband.’
The Beggar took her by the hand and led her away, and she was obliged to go with him on foot.
When they came to a big wood, she asked:
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this forest so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard. It might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the hand of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this forest so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard. It might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the hand of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this forest so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard. It might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the hand of the King.’
After that they reached a great meadow, and she asked again:
‘Ah! who is the Lord of these meadows so fine?’‘They belong to King Thrushbeard, and would have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the love of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of these meadows so fine?’‘They belong to King Thrushbeard, and would have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the love of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of these meadows so fine?’‘They belong to King Thrushbeard, and would have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the love of the King.’
Then they passed through a large town, and again she asked:
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this city so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard, and it might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the heart of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this city so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard, and it might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the heart of the King.’
‘Ah! who is the Lord of this city so fine?’‘It belongs to King Thrushbeard, and it might have been thine,If his Queen you had been.’‘Ah! sad must I sing!I would I’d accepted the heart of the King.’
‘It doesn’t please me at all,’ said the Musician, ‘that you are always wishing for another husband. Am I not good enough for you?’
At last they came to a miserable little hovel, and she said:
‘Ah, heavens! what’s this house, so mean and small?This wretched little hut’s no house at all.’
‘Ah, heavens! what’s this house, so mean and small?This wretched little hut’s no house at all.’
‘Ah, heavens! what’s this house, so mean and small?This wretched little hut’s no house at all.’
The Musician answered: ‘This is my house, and yours; where we are to live together.’
The door was so low that she had to stoop to get in.
‘Where are the servants?’ asked the Princess.
‘Servants indeed!’ answered the Beggar. ‘Whatever you want done, you must do for yourself. Light the fire, and put the kettle on to make my supper. I am very tired.’
But the Princess knew nothing about lighting fires or cooking, and to get it done at all, the Beggar had to do it himself.
When they had finished their humble fare, they went to bed. But in the morning the Man made her get up very early to do the housework.
They lived like this for a few days, till they had eaten up all their store of food.
Then the Man said: ‘Wife, this won’t do any longer; we can’t live here without working. You shall make baskets.’
So he went out and cut some osiers, and brought them home. She began to weave them, but the hard osiers bruised her tender hands.
‘I see that won’t do,’ said the Beggar. ‘You had better spin; perhaps you can manage that.’
So she sat down and tried to spin, but the harsh yarn soon cut her delicate fingers and made them bleed.
‘Now you see,’ said the Man, ‘what a good-for-nothing you are. I have made a bad bargain in you. But I will try to start a trade in earthenware. You must sit in the market and offer your goods for sale.’
The Beggar took her by the hand and led her away.
‘Alas!’ she thought, ‘if any of the people from my father’s kingdom come and see me sitting in the market-place, offeringgoods for sale, they will scoff at me.’ But it was no good. She had to obey, unless she meant to die of hunger.
All went well the first time. The people willingly bought her wares because she was so handsome, and they paid what she asked them—nay, some even gave her the money and left her the pots as well.
They lived on the gains as long as they lasted, and then the Man laid in a new stock of wares.
She took her seat in a corner of the market, set out her crockery about her, and began to cry her wares.
Suddenly, a drunken Hussar came galloping up, and rode right in among the pots, breaking them into thousands of bits.
She began to cry, and was so frightened that she did not know what to do. ‘Oh! what will become of me?’ she cried. ‘What will my Husband say to me?’ She ran home, and told him her misfortune.
‘Who would ever think of sitting at the corner of the market with crockery?’ he said. ‘Stop that crying. I see you are no manner of use for any decent kind of work. I have been to our King’s palace, and asked if they do not want a kitchen wench, and they have promised to try you. You will get your victuals free, at any rate.’
So the Princess became a kitchen wench, and had to wait upon the Cook and do all the dirty work. She fixed a pot into each of her pockets, and in them took home her share of the scraps and leavings, and upon these they lived.
It so happened that the marriage of the eldest Princess just then took place, and the poor Woman went upstairs and stood behind the door to peep at all the splendour.
When the rooms were lighted up, and she saw the guests streaming in, one more beautiful than the other, and the scene grew more and more brilliant, she thought, with a heavy heart, of her sad fate. She cursed the pride and haughtiness which had been the cause of her humiliation, and of her being brought to such depths.
Every now and then the Servants would throw her bits fromthe savoury dishes they were carrying away from the feast, and these she put into her pots to take home with her.
All at once the King’s son came in. He was dressed in silk and velvet, and he had a golden chain round his neck.
When he saw the beautiful Woman standing at the door, he seized her by the hand, and wanted to dance with her.
But she shrank and refused, because she saw that it was King Thrushbeard, who had been one of the suitors for her hand, and whom she had most scornfully driven away.
Her resistance was no use, and he dragged her into the hall. The string by which her pockets were suspended broke. Down fell the pots, and the soup and savoury morsels were spilt all over the floor.
When the guests saw it, they burst into shouts of mocking laughter.
She was so ashamed, that she would gladly have sunk into the earth. She rushed to the door, and tried to escape, but on the stairs a Man stopped her and brought her back.
When she looked at him, it was no other than King Thrushbeard again.
He spoke kindly to her, and said: ‘Do not be afraid. I and the Beggar-Man, who lived in the poor little hovel with you, are one and the same. For love of you I disguised myself; and I was also the Hussar who rode among your pots. All this I did to bend your proud spirit, and to punish you for the haughtiness with which you mocked me.’
She wept bitterly, and said: ‘I was very wicked, and I am not worthy to be your wife.’
But he said: ‘Be happy! Those evil days are over. Now we will celebrate our true wedding.’
The waiting-women came and put rich clothing upon her, and her Father, with all his Court, came and wished her joy on her marriage with King Thrushbeard.
Then, in truth, her happiness began. I wish we had been there to see it, you and I.
THERE was once a King whose castle was surrounded by a forest full of game. One day he sent a Huntsman out to shoot a deer, but he never came back.
‘Perhaps an accident has happened to him,’ said the King.
Next day he sent out two more Huntsmen to look for him, but they did not return either. On the third day he sent for all his Huntsmen, and said to them, ‘Search the whole forest without ceasing, until you have found all three.’
But not a single man of all these, or one of the pack of hounds they took with them, ever came back. From this time forth no one would venture into the forest; so there it lay, wrapped in silence and solitude, with only an occasional eagle or hawk circling over it.
This continued for several years, and then one day a strange Huntsman sought an audience of the King, and offered to penetrate into the dangerous wood. The King, however, would not give him permission, and said, ‘It’s not safe, and I am afraid if you go in that you will never come out again, any more than all the others.’
The Huntsman answered, ‘Sire, I will take the risk upon myself. I do not know fear.’
So the Huntsman went into the wood with his Dog. Before long the Dog put up some game, and wanted to chase it; but hardly had he taken a few steps when he came to a deep pool, and could go no further. A naked arm appeared out of the water, seized him, and drew him down.
When the Huntsman saw this, he went back and fetched three men with pails to empty the pool. When they got to the bottom they found a Wild Man, whose body was as brown as rusty iron, and his hair hanging down over his face to hisknees. They bound him with cords, and carried him away to the castle. There was great excitement over the Wild Man, and the King had an iron cage made for him in the courtyard. He forbade any one to open the door of the cage on pain of death, and the Queen had to keep the key in her own charge.
After this, anybody could walk in the forest with safety.
The King had a little son eight years old, and one day he was playing in the courtyard. In his play his golden ball fell into the cage. The boy ran up, and said, ‘Give me back my ball.’
‘Not until you have opened the door,’ said the Wild Man.
‘No; I can’t do that,’ said the boy. ‘My father has forbidden it,’ and then he ran away.
Next day he came again, and asked for his ball. The Man said, ‘Open my door’; but he would not.
On the third day the King went out hunting, and the boy came again, and said, ‘Even if I would, I could not open the door. I have not got the key.’
Then the Wild Man said, ‘It is lying under your mother’s pillow. You can easily get it.’
The boy, who was very anxious to have his ball back, threw his scruples to the winds, and fetched the key. The door was very stiff, and he pinched his fingers in opening it. As soon as it was open the Wild Man came out, gave the boy his ball, and hurried away. The boy was now very frightened, and cried out, ‘O Wild Man, don’t go away, or I shall be beaten!’
The Wild Man turned back, picked up the boy, put him on his shoulder, and walked hurriedly off into the wood.
When the King came home he saw at once the cage was empty, and asked the Queen how it had come about. She knew nothing about it, and went to look for the key, which was of course gone. They called the boy, but there was no answer. The King sent people out into the fields to look for him, but all in vain; he was gone. The King easily guessed what had happened, and great grief fell on the royal household.
When the Wild Man got back into the depths of the darkforest he took the boy down off his shoulder, and said, ‘You will never see your father and mother again; but I will keep you here with me, because you had pity on me and set me free. If you do as you are told, you will be well treated. I have treasures and gold enough and to spare, more than anybody in the world.’
He made a bed of moss for the boy, on which he went to sleep. Next morning the Man led him to a spring, and said, ‘You see this golden well is bright and clear as crystal? You must sit by it, and take care that nothing falls into it, or it will be contaminated. I shall come every evening to see if you have obeyed my orders.’
The boy sat down on the edge of the spring to watch it; sometimes he would see a gold fish or a golden snake darting through it, and he guarded it well, so that nothing should fall into it. One day as he was sitting like this his finger pained him so much that involuntarily he dipped it into the water. He drew it out very quickly, but saw that it was gilded, and although he tried hard to clean it, it remained golden. In the evening Iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said, ‘What has happened to the well to-day?’
‘Nothing, nothing!’ he answered, keeping his finger behind his back, so that Iron Hans should not see it.
But he said, ‘You have dipped your finger into the water. It does not matter this time, but take care that nothing of the kind occurs again.’
Early next morning the boy took his seat by the spring again to watch. His finger still hurt very much, and he put his hand up above his head; but, unfortunately, in so doing he brushed a hair into the well. He quickly took it out, but it was already gilded. When Iron Hans came in the evening, he knew very well what had happened.
‘You have let a hair fall into the well,’ he said. ‘I will overlook it once more, but if it happens for the third time, the well will be polluted, and you can no longer stay with me.’
On the third day the boy again sat by the well; but he tookgood care not to move a finger, however much it might hurt. The time seemed very long to him as he looked at his face reflected in the water. As he bent over further and further to look into his eyes, his long hair fell over his shoulder right into the water. He started up at once, but not before his whole head of hair had become golden, and glittered like the sun. You may imagine how frightened the poor boy was. He took his pocket-handkerchief and tied it over his head, so that Iron Hans should not see it. But he knew all about it before he came, and at once said, ‘Take that handkerchief off your head,’ and then all the golden hair tumbled out. All the poor boy’s excuses were no good. ‘You have not stood the test, and you can no longer stay here. You must go out into the world, and there you will learn the meaning of poverty. But as your heart is not bad, and as I wish you well, I will grant you one thing. When you are in great need, go to the forest and cry “Iron Hans,” and I will come and help you. My power is great, greater than you think, and I have gold and silver in abundance.’
So the King’s son left the forest, and wandered over trodden and untrodden paths till he reached a great city. He tried to get work, but he could not find any; besides, he knew no trade by which to make a living. At last he went to the castle and asked if they would employ him. The courtiers did not know what use they could make of him, but they were taken with his appearance, and said he might stay. At last the Cook took him into his service, and said he might carry wood and water for him, and sweep up the ashes.
One day, as there was no one else at hand, the Cook ordered him to carry the food up to the royal table. As he did not want his golden hair to be seen, he kept his cap on. Nothing of the sort had ever happened in the presence of the King before, and he said, ‘When you come into the royal presence, you must take your cap off.’
‘Alas, Sire,’ he said, ‘I cannot take it off, I have a bad wound on my head.’
Then the King ordered the Cook to be called, and asked howhe could take such a boy into his service, and ordered him to be sent away at once. But the Cook was sorry for him, and exchanged him with the Gardener’s boy.
Now the boy had to dig and hoe, plant and water, in every kind of weather. One day in the summer, when he was working alone in the garden, it was very hot, and he took off his cap for the fresh air to cool his head. When the sun shone on his hair it glittered so that the beams penetrated right into the Princess’s bedroom, and she sprang up to see what it was. She discovered the youth, and called to him, ‘Bring me a nosegay, young man.’
He hurriedly put on his cap, picked a lot of wild flowers, and tied them up. On his way up to the Princess, the Gardener met him, and said, ‘How can you take such poor flowers to the Princess? Quickly cut another bouquet, and mind they are the choicest and rarest flowers.’
‘Oh no,’ said the youth. ‘The wild flowers have a sweeter scent, and will please her better.’
The Princess tries to take the boy's cap
She immediately clutched at his cap to pull it off; but he held it on with both hands.
As soon as he went into the room the Princess said, ‘Take off your cap; it is not proper for you to wear it before me.’
He answered again, ‘I may not take it off, because I have a wound on my head.’
But she took hold of the cap, and pulled it off, and all hisgolden hair tumbled over his shoulders in a shower. It was quite a sight. He tried to get away, but she took hold of his arm, and gave him a handful of ducats. He took them, but he cared nothing for the gold, and gave it to the Gardener for his children to play with.
Next day the Princess again called him to bring her a bunch of wild flowers, and when he brought it she immediately clutched at his cap to pull it off; but he held it on with both hands. Again she gave him a handful of ducats, but he would not keep them, and gave them to the Gardener’s children. The third day the same thing happened, but she could not take off his cap, and he would not keep the gold.
Not long after this the kingdom was invaded. The King assembled his warriors. He did not know whether they would be able to conquer his enemies or not, as they were very powerful, and had a mighty army. Then the Gardener’s assistant said, ‘I have been brought up to fight; give me a horse, and I will go too.’
The boy rides the lame horse
He called three times, ‘Iron Hans,’ as loud as he could.
The others laughed and said, ‘When we are gone, find one for yourself. We will leave one behind in the stable for you.’
When they were gone, he went and got the horse out; it was lame in one leg, and hobbled along, humpety-hump, humpety-hump. Nevertheless, he mounted it and rode away to the dark forest. When he came to the edge of it, he called three times, ‘Iron Hans,’ as loud as he could, till the trees resounded with it.
The Wild Man appeared immediately, and said, ‘What do you want?’
‘I want a strong horse to go to the war.’
‘You shall have it, and more besides.’
The Wild Man went back into the wood, and before long a Groom came out, leading a fiery charger with snorting nostrils. Behind him followed a great body of warriors, all in armour, and their swords gleaming in the sun. The youth handed over his three-legged steed to the Groom, mounted the other, and rode away at the head of the troop.
When he approached the battle-field a great many of the King’s men had already fallen, and before long the rest must have given in. Then the youth, at the head of his iron troop, charged, and bore down the enemy like a mighty wind, smiting everything which came in their way. They tried to fly, but the youth fell upon them, and did not stop while one remained alive.
Instead of joining the King, he led his troop straight back to the wood and called Iron Hans again.
‘What do you want?’ asked the Wild Man.
‘Take back your charger and your troop, and give me back my three-legged steed.’
His request was granted, and he rode his three-legged steed home.
When the King returned to the castle his daughter met him and congratulated him on his victory.
‘It was not I who won it,’ he said; ‘but a strange Knight, who came to my assistance with his troop.’ His daughter asked who the strange Knight was, but the King did not know, and said, ‘He pursued the enemy, and I have not seen him since.’
She asked the Gardener about his assistant, but he laughed, and said, ‘He has just come home on his three-legged horse, and the others made fun of him, and said, “Here comes our hobbler back again,” and asked which hedge he had been sleeping under. He answered, “I did my best, and without me things would have gone badly.” Then they laughed at him more than ever.’
The King said to his daughter, ‘I will give a great feast lasting three days, and you shall throw a golden apple. Perhaps the unknown Knight will come among the others to try and catch it.’
When notice was given of the feast, the youth went to the wood and called Iron Hans.
‘What do you want?’ he asked.
‘I want to secure the King’s golden apple,’ he said.
‘It is as good as yours already,’ answered Iron Hans. ‘You shall have a tawny suit, and ride a proud chestnut.’
When the day arrived the youth took his place among the other Knights, but no one knew him. The Princess stepped forward and threw the apple among the Knights, and he was the only one who could catch it. As soon as he had it he rode away.
On the second day Iron Hans fitted him out as a White Knight, riding a gallant grey. Again he caught the apple; but he did not stay a minute, and, as before, hurried away.
The King now grew angry, and said, ‘This must not be; he must come before me and give me his name.’
He gave an order that if the Knight made off again he was to be pursued and brought back.
On the third day the youth received from Iron Hans a black outfit, and a fiery black charger.
Again he caught the apple; but as he was riding off with it the King’s people chased him, and one came so near that he wounded him in the leg. Still he escaped, but his horse galloped so fast that his helmet fell off, and they all saw that he had golden hair. So they rode back, and told the King what they had seen.
Next day the Princess asked the Gardener about his assistant.
‘He is working in the garden. The queer fellow went to the feast, and he only came back last night. He has shown my children three golden apples which he won.’
The King ordered him to be brought before him. When heappeared he still wore his cap. But the Princess went up to him and took it off; then all his golden hair fell over his shoulders, and it was so beautiful that they were all amazed by it.
‘Are you the Knight who came to the feast every day in a different colour, and who caught the three golden apples?’ asked the King.
‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘and here are the apples,’ bringing them out of his pocket, and giving them to the King. ‘If you want further proof, here is the wound in my leg given me by your people when they pursued me. But I am also the Knight who helped you to conquer the enemy.’
‘If you can do such deeds you are no Gardener’s boy. Tell me who is your father?’
‘My father is a powerful King, and I have plenty of gold—as much as ever I want.’
‘I see very well,’ said the King, ‘that we owe you many thanks. Can I do anything to please you?’
‘Yes,’ he answered; ‘indeed, you can. Give me your daughter to be my wife!’
The maiden laughed, and said, ‘He does not beat about the bush; but I saw long ago that he was no Gardener’s boy.’
Then she went up to him and kissed him.
His father and mother came to the wedding, and they were full of joy, for they had long given up all hope of ever seeing their dear son again. As they were all sitting at the wedding feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors flew open, and a proud King walked in at the head of a great following. He went up to the Bridegroom, embraced him, and said, ‘I am Iron Hans, who was bewitched and changed into a Wild Man; but you have broken the spell and set me free. All the treasure that I have is now your own.’
Printed in Great Britain byT. and A.Constable, Printers to His Majestyat the University Press, Edinburgh
Transcriber's NoteMinor punctuation errors have been repaired. Capitalisation and hyphen usage has been made consistent within individual stories.Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they did not fall in the middle of a paragraph. Omitted page numbers were the original location of illustrations.
Transcriber's Note
Minor punctuation errors have been repaired. Capitalisation and hyphen usage has been made consistent within individual stories.
Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they did not fall in the middle of a paragraph. Omitted page numbers were the original location of illustrations.