Two men look at the tree
There stands an old tree; cut it down, and you will find something at the roots.
His mother gave him a cake which was only mixed with water and baked in the ashes, and a bottle of sour beer. When he reached the forest, like the others, he met the little greyMan, who greeted him, and said, ‘Give me a bit of your cake and a drop of your wine. I am so hungry and thirsty.’
Simpleton answered, ‘I only have a cake baked in the ashes, and some sour beer; but, if you like such fare, we will sit down and eat it together.’
So they sat down; but when Simpleton pulled out his cake it was a sweet, nice cake, and his sour beer was turned into good wine. So they ate and drank, and the little Man said, ‘As you have such a good heart, and are willing to share your goods, I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree; cut it down, and you will find something at the roots.’
The crowd of people run along
So now there were seven people running behind Simpleton and his Goose.
So saying he disappeared.
Simpleton cut down the tree, and when it fell, lo, and behold! a Goose was sitting among the roots, and its feathers were of pure gold. He picked it up, and taking it with him, went to an inn, where he meant to stay the night. The landlord had three daughters, who saw the Goose, and were verycurious as to what kind of bird it could be, and wanted to get one of its golden feathers.
The eldest thought, ‘There will soon be some opportunity for me to pull out one of the feathers,’ and when Simpleton went outside, she took hold of its wing to pluck out a feather; but her hand stuck fast, and she could not get away.
Soon after, the second sister came up, meaning also to pluck out one of the golden feathers; but she had hardly touched her sister when she found herself held fast.
Lastly, the third one came, with the same intention, but the others screamed out, ‘Keep away! For goodness sake, keep away!’
But she, not knowing why she was to keep away, thought, ‘Why should I not be there, if they are there?’
So she ran up, but as soon as she touched her sisters she had to stay hanging on to them, and they all had to pass the night like this.
The larger crowd follows up and down hills
And so they followed up hill and down dale after Simpleton and his Goose.
In the morning, Simpleton took up the Goose under his arm, without noticing the three girls hanging on behind. They had to keep running behind, dodging his legs right and left.
In the middle of the fields they met the Parson, who, whenhe saw the procession, cried out: ‘For shame, you bold girls! Why do you run after the lad like that? Do you call that proper behaviour?’
Then he took hold of the hand of the youngest girl to pull her away; but no sooner had he touched her than he felt himself held fast, and he, too, had to run behind.
Soon after the Sexton came up, and, seeing his master the Parson treading on the heels of the three girls, cried out in amazement, ‘Hullo, your Reverence! Whither away so fast? Don’t forget that we have a christening!’
So saying, he plucked the Parson by the sleeve, and soon found that he could not get away.
As this party of five, one behind the other, tramped on, two Peasants came along the road, carrying their hoes. The Parson called them, and asked them to set the Sexton and himself free. But as soon as ever they touched the Sexton they were held fast, so now there were seven people running behind Simpleton and his Goose.
By-and-by they reached a town, where a King ruled whose only daughter was so solemn that nothing and nobody could make her laugh. So the King had proclaimed that whoever could make her laugh should marry her.
When Simpleton heard this he took his Goose, with all his following, before her, and when she saw these seven people running, one behind another, she burst into fits of laughter, and seemed as if she could never stop.
Thereupon Simpleton asked her in marriage. But the King did not like him for a son-in-law, and he made all sorts of conditions. First, he said Simpleton must bring him a man who could drink up a cellar full of wine.
Then Simpleton at once thought of the little grey Man who might be able to help him, and he went out to the forest to look for him. On the very spot where the tree that he had cut down had stood, he saw a man sitting with a very sad face. Simpleton asked him what was the matter, and he answered—
‘I am so thirsty, and I can’t quench my thirst. I hate cold water, and I have already emptied a cask of wine; but what is a drop like that on a burning stone?’
‘Well, there I can help you,’ said Simpleton. ‘Come with me, and you shall soon have enough to drink and to spare.’
He led him to the King’s cellar, and the Man set to upon the great casks, and he drank and drank till his sides ached, and by the end of the day the cellar was empty.
Then again Simpleton demanded his bride. But the King was annoyed that a wretched fellow called ‘Simpleton’ should have his daughter, and he made new conditions. He was now to find a man who could eat up a mountain of bread.
Simpleton did not reflect long, but went straight to the forest, and there in the self-same place sat a man tightening a strap round his body, and making a very miserable face. He said: ‘I have eaten up a whole ovenful of rolls, but what is the good of that when any one is as hungry as I am. I am never satisfied. I have to tighten my belt every day if I am not to die of hunger.’
Simpleton was delighted, and said: ‘Get up and come with me. You shall have enough to eat.’
And he took him to the Court, where the King had caused all the flour in the kingdom to be brought together, and a huge mountain of bread to be baked. The Man from the forest sat down before it and began to eat, and at the end of the day the whole mountain had disappeared.
Now, for the third time, Simpleton asked for his bride. But again the King tried to find an excuse, and demanded a ship which could sail on land as well as at sea.
‘As soon as you sail up in it, you shall have my daughter,’ he said.
Simpleton went straight to the forest, and there sat the little grey Man to whom he had given his cake. The little Man said: ‘I have eaten and drunk for you, and now I will give you the ship, too. I do it all because you were merciful to me.’
Then he gave him the ship which could sail on land as well as at sea, and when the King saw it he could no longer withhold his daughter. The marriage was celebrated, and, at the King’s death, the Simpleton inherited the kingdom, and lived long and happily with his wife.
The king lets the princess go, and she runs towards the Simpleton
The King could no longer withhold his daughter.
THERE was once a King who was so ill that it was thought impossible his life could be saved. He had three sons, and they were all in great distress on his account, and they went into the castle gardens and wept at the thought that he must die. An old man came up to them and asked the cause of their grief. They told him that their father was dying, and nothing could save him. The old man said, ‘There is only one remedy which I know; it is the Water of Life. If he drinks of it, he will recover, but it is very difficult to find.’
The eldest son said, ‘I will soon find it’; and he went to the sick man to ask permission to go in search of the Water of Life, as that was the only thing to cure him.
‘No,’ said the King. ‘The danger is too great. I would rather die.’
But he persisted so long that at last the King gave his permission.
The Prince thought, ‘If I bring this water I shall be the favourite, and I shall inherit the kingdom.’
So he set off, and when he had ridden some distance he came upon a Dwarf standing in the road, who cried, ‘Whither away so fast?’
‘Stupid little fellow,’ said the Prince, proudly; ‘what business is it of yours?’ and rode on.
The little man was very angry, and made an evil vow.
Soon after, the Prince came to a gorge in the mountains, and the further he rode the narrower it became, till he could go no further. His horse could neither go forward nor turn round for him to dismount; so there he sat, jammed in.
The sick King waited a long time for him, but he never came back. Then the second son said, ‘Father, let me go and find the Water of Life,’ thinking, ‘if my brother is dead I shall have the kingdom.’
The King at first refused to let him go, but at last he gave his consent. So the Prince started on the same road as his brother, and met the same Dwarf, who stopped him and asked where he was going in such a hurry.
‘Little Snippet, what does it matter to you?’ he said, and rode away without looking back.
But the Dwarf cast a spell over him, and he, too, got into a narrow gorge like his brother, where he could neither go backwards nor forwards.
This is what happens to the haughty.
As the second son also stayed away, the youngest one offered to go and fetch the Water of Life, and at last the King was obliged to let him go.
When he met the Dwarf, and he asked him where he was hurrying to, he stopped and said, ‘I am searching for the Water of Life, because my father is dying.’
‘Do you know where it is to be found?’
‘No,’ said the Prince.
‘As you have spoken pleasantly to me, and not been haughty like your false brothers, I will help you and tell you how to find the Water of Life. It flows from a fountain in the courtyard of an enchanted castle; but you will never get in unless I give you an iron rod and two loaves of bread. With the rod strike three times on the iron gate of the castle, and it will spring open. Inside you will find two Lions with wide-open jaws, but if you throw a loaf to each they will be quiet. Then you must make haste to fetch the Water of Life before it strikes twelve, or the gates of the castle will close and you will be shut in.’
The Prince thanked him, took the rod and the loaves, and set off. When he reached the castle all was just as the Dwarf had said. At the third knock the gate flew open, and whenhe had pacified the Lions with the loaves, he walked into the castle. In the great hall he found several enchanted Princes, and he took the rings from their fingers. He also took a sword and a loaf, which were lying by them. On passing into the next room he found a beautiful Maiden, who rejoiced at his coming. She embraced him, and said that he had saved her, and should have the whole of her kingdom; and if he would come back in a year she would marry him. She also told him where to find the fountain with the enchanted water; but, she said, he must make haste to get out of the castle before the clock struck twelve.
Then he went on, and came to a room where there was a beautiful bed freshly made, and as he was very tired he thought he would take a little rest; so he lay down and fell asleep. When he woke it was striking a quarter to twelve. He sprang up in a fright, and ran to the fountain, and took some of the water in a cup which was lying near, and then hurried away. The clock struck just as he reached the iron gate, and it banged so quickly that it took off a bit of his heel.
He was rejoiced at having got some of the Water of Life, and hastened on his homeward journey. He again passed the Dwarf, who said, when he saw the sword and the loaf, ‘Those things will be of much service to you. You will be able to strike down whole armies with the sword, and the loaf will never come to an end.’
The Prince did not want to go home without his brothers, and he said, ‘Good Dwarf, can you not tell me where my brothers are? They went in search of the Water of Life before I did, but they never came back.’
‘They are both stuck fast in a narrow mountain gorge. I cast a spell over them because of their pride.’
Then the Prince begged so hard that they might be released that at last the Dwarf yielded; but he warned him against them, and said, ‘Beware of them; they have bad hearts.’
Good Dwarf, can you not tell me where my brothers are?
He was delighted to see his brothers when they came back, and told them all that had happened to him; how he hadfound the Water of Life, and brought a goblet full with him. How he had released a beautiful Princess, who would wait a year for him and then marry him, and he would become a great Prince.
Then they rode away together, and came to a land where famine and war were raging. The King thought he would be utterly ruined, so great was the destitution.
The Prince went to him and gave him the loaf, and with it he fed and satisfied his whole kingdom. The Prince also gave him his sword, and he smote the whole army of his enemies with it, and then he was able to live in peace and quiet. Then the Prince took back his sword and his loaf, and the three brothers rode on. But they had to pass through two more countries where war and famine were raging, and each time the Prince gave his sword and his loaf to the King, and in this way he saved three kingdoms.
After that they took a ship and crossed the sea. During the passage the two elder brothers said to each other, ‘Our youngest brother found the Water of Life, and we did not, so our father will give him the kingdom which we ought to have, and he will take away our fortune from us.’
This thought made them very vindictive, and they made up their minds to get rid of him. They waited till he was asleep, and then they emptied the Water of Life from his goblet and took it themselves, and filled up his cup with salt sea water.
As soon as they got home the youngest Prince took his goblet to the King, so that he might drink of the water which was to make him well; but after drinking only a few drops of the sea water he became more ill than ever. As he was bewailing himself, his two elder sons came to him and accused the youngest of trying to poison him, and said that they had the real Water of Life, and gave him some. No sooner had he drunk it than he felt better, and he soon became as strong and well as he had been in his youth.
Then the two went to their youngest brother, and mocked him, saying, ‘It was you who found the Water of Life; youhad all the trouble, while we have the reward. You should have been wiser, and kept your eyes open; we stole it from you while you were asleep on the ship. When the end of the year comes, one of us will go and bring away the beautiful Princess. But don’t dare to betray us. Our father will certainly not believe you, and if you say a single word you will lose your life; your only chance is to keep silence.’
The old King was very angry with his youngest son, thinking that he had tried to take his life. So he had the Court assembled to give judgment upon him, and it was decided that he must be secretly got out of the way.
One day when the Prince was going out hunting, thinking no evil, the King’s Huntsman was ordered to go with him. Seeing the Huntsman look sad, the Prince said to him, ‘My good Huntsman, what is the matter with you?’
The Huntsman answered, ‘I can’t bear to tell you, and yet I must.’
The Prince said, ‘Say it out; whatever it is I will forgive you.’
‘Alas!’ said the Huntsman, ‘I am to shoot you dead; it is the King’s command.’
The Prince was horror-stricken, and said, ‘Dear Huntsman, do not kill me, give me my life. Let me have your dress, and you shall have my royal robes.’
The Huntsman said, ‘I will gladly do so; I could never have shot you.’ So they changed clothes, and the Huntsman went home, but the Prince wandered away into the forest.
After a time three wagon loads of gold and precious stones came to the King for his youngest son. They were sent by the Kings who had been saved by the Prince’s sword and his miraculous loaf, and who now wished to show their gratitude.
Then the old King thought, ‘What if my son really was innocent?’ and said to his people, ‘If only he were still alive! How sorry I am that I ordered him to be killed.’
‘He is still alive,’ said the Huntsman. ‘I could not findit in my heart to carry out your commands,’ and he told the King what had taken place.
A load fell from the King’s heart on hearing the good news, and he sent out a proclamation to all parts of his kingdom that his son was to come home, where he would be received with great favour.
In the meantime, the Princess had caused a road to be made of pure shining gold leading to her castle, and told her people that whoever came riding straight along it would be the true bridegroom, and they were to admit him. But any one who came either on one side of the road or the other would not be the right one, and he was not to be let in.
When the year had almost passed, the eldest Prince thought that he would hurry to the Princess, and by giving himself out as her deliverer would gain a wife and a kingdom as well. So he rode away, and when he saw the beautiful golden road he thought it would be a thousand pities to ride upon it; so he turned aside, and rode to the right of it. But when he reached the gate the people told him that he was not the true bridegroom, and he had to go away.
Soon after the second Prince came, and when he saw the golden road he thought it would be a thousand pities for his horse to tread upon it; so he turned aside, and rode up on the left of it. But when he reached the gate he was also told that he was not the true bridegroom, and, like his brother, was turned away.
When the year had quite come to an end, the third Prince came out of the wood to ride to his beloved, and through her to forget all his past sorrows. So on he went, thinking only of her, and wishing to be with her; and he never even saw the golden road. His horse cantered right along the middle of it, and when he reached the gate it was flung open and the Princess received him joyfully, and called him her Deliverer, and the Lord of her Kingdom. Their marriage was celebrated without delay, and with much rejoicing. When it was over, she told him that his father had called him back and forgivenhim. So he went to him and told him everything; how his brothers had deceived him, and how they had forced him to keep silence. The old King wanted to punish them, but they had taken a ship and sailed away over the sea, and they never came back as long as they lived.
A dwarf
THERE was once a cook called Grethel, who wore shoes with red rosettes; and when she went out in them, she turned and twisted about gaily, and thought, ‘How fine I am!’
After her walk she would take a draught of wine, in her light-heartedness; and as wine gives an appetite, she would then taste some of the dishes that she was cooking, saying to herself, ‘The cook is bound to know how the food tastes.’
It so happened that one day her master said to her, ‘Grethel, I have a guest coming to-night; roast me two fowls in your best style.’
‘It shall be done, sir!’ answered Grethel. So she killed the chickens, scalded and plucked them, and then put them on the spit; towards evening she put them down to the fire to roast. They got brown and crisp, but still the guest did not come. Then Grethel called to her Master, ‘If the guest does not come I must take the fowls from the fire; but it will be a thousand pities if they are not eaten soon while they are juicy.’
Her Master said, ‘I will go and hasten the guest myself.’
Hardly had her Master turned his back before Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on it on one side, and said to herself, ‘It’s thirsty work standing over the fire so long. Who knows when he will come. I’ll go down into the cellar in the meantime and take a drop of wine.’
She ran down and held a jug to the tap, then said, ‘Here’s to your health, Grethel,’ and took a good pull. ‘Drinking leads to drinking,’ she said, ‘and it’s not easy to give it up,’ and again she took a good pull. Then she went upstairs andput the fowls to the fire again, poured some butter over them, and turned the spit round with a will. It smelt so good that she thought, ‘There may be something wanting, I must have a taste.’ And she passed her finger over the fowls and put it in her mouth. ‘Ah, how good they are; it’s a sin and a shame that there’s nobody to eat them.’ She ran to the window to see if her Master was coming with the guest, but she saw nobody. Then she went back to the fowls again, and thought, ‘One wing is catching a little, better to eat it—and eat it I will.’ So she cut it off and ate it with much enjoyment. When it was finished, she thought, ‘The other must follow, or the Master will notice that something is wanting.’ When the wings were consumed she went back to the window again to look for her Master, but no one was in sight.
‘Who knows,’ she thought. ‘I dare say they won’t come at all; they must have dropped in somewhere else.’ Then she said to herself, ‘Now, Grethel, don’t be afraid, eat it all up: why should the good food be wasted? When it’s all gone you can rest; run and have another drink and then finish it up.’ So she went down to the cellar, took a good drink, and contentedly ate up the rest of the fowl. When it had all disappeared and still no Master came, Grethel looked at the other fowl and said, ‘Where one is gone the other must follow. What is good for one is right for the other. If I have a drink first I shall be none the worse.’ So she took another hearty pull at the jug, and then she sent the other fowl after the first one.
In the height of her enjoyment, her Master came back, and cried, ‘Hurry, Grethel, the guest is just coming.’
‘Very well, sir, I’ll soon have it ready,’ answered Grethel.
Her Master went to see if the table was properly laid, and took the big carving-knife with which he meant to cut up the fowls, to sharpen it. In the meantime the guest came and knocked politely at the door. Grethel ran to see who was there, and, seeing the guest, she put her finger to her lips and said, ‘Be quiet, and get away quickly; if my Master catchesyou it will be the worse for you. He certainly invited you to supper, but only with the intention of cutting off both your ears. You can hear him sharpening his knife now.’
Then he ran after him, still holding the carving-knife, and cried, 'Only one, only one!'
The guest heard the knife being sharpened, and hurried off down the steps as fast as he could.
Grethel ran with great agility to her Master, shrieking, ‘A fine guest you have invited, indeed!’
‘Why, what’s the matter, Grethel? What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘he has taken the two fowls that I had just put upon the dish, and run off with them.’
‘That’s a clever trick!’ said her Master, regretting his fine fowls. ‘If he had only left me one so that I had something to eat.’
He called out to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Then he ran after him, still holding the carving-knife, and cried, ‘Only one, only one!’—meaning that the guest should leave him one fowl; but the guest only thought that he meant he was to give him one ear, and he ran as if he was pursued by fire, and so took both his ears safely home.
THERE was once a Merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl. They were both small, and not old enough to run about. He had also two richly-laden ships at sea, and just as he was expecting to make a great deal of money by the merchandise, news came that they had both been lost. So now instead of being a rich man he was quite poor, and had nothing left but one field near the town.
To turn his thoughts from his misfortune, he went out into this field, and as he was walking up and down a little black Mannikin suddenly appeared before him, and asked why he was so sad. The Merchant said, ‘I would tell you at once, if you could help me.’
‘Who knows,’ answered the little Mannikin. ‘Perhaps I could help you.’
Then the Merchant told him that all his wealth had been lost in a wreck, and that now he had nothing left but this field.
‘Don’t worry yourself,’ said the Mannikin. ‘If you will promise to bring me in twelve years’ time the first thing which rubs against your legs when you go home, you shall have as much gold as you want.’
The Merchant thought, ‘What could it be but my dog?’ He never thought of his boy, but said Yes, and gave the Mannikin his bond signed and sealed, and went home.
When he reached the house his little son, delighted to hold on to the benches and totter towards his father, seized him by the leg to steady himself.
The Merchant was horror-stricken, for his vow came into his head, and now he knew what he had promised to give away. But as he still found no gold in his chests, he thought it mustonly have been a joke of the Mannikin’s. A month later he went up into the loft to gather together some old tin to sell it, and there he found a great heap of gold on the floor. So he was soon up in the world again, bought and sold, became a richer merchant than ever, and was altogether contented.
In the meantime the boy had grown up, and he was both clever and wise. But the nearer the end of the twelve years came, the more sorrowful the Merchant grew; you could even see his misery in his face. One day his son asked him what was the matter, but his father would not tell him. The boy, however, persisted so long that at last he told him that, without knowing what he was doing, he had promised to give him up at the end of twelve years to a little black Mannikin, in return for a quantity of gold. He had given his hand and seal on it, and the time was now near for him to go.
Then his son said, ‘O father, don’t be frightened, it will be all right. The little black Mannikin has no power over me.’
When the time came, the son asked a blessing of the Priest, and he and his father went to the field together; and the son made a circle within which they took their places.
When the little black Mannikin appeared, he said to the father, ‘Have you brought what you promised me?’
The man was silent, but his son said, ‘What do you want?’
The Mannikin said, ‘My business is with your father, and not with you.’
The son answered, ‘You deceived and cheated my father. Give me back his bond.’
‘Oh no!’ said the little man; ‘I won’t give up my rights.’
They talked to each other for a long time, and at last they decided that, as the son no longer belonged to his father, and declined to belong to his foe, he should get into a boat on a flowing stream, and his father should push it off himself, thus giving him up to the stream.
So the youth took leave of his father, got into the boat, andhis father pushed it off. Then, thinking that his son was lost to him for ever, he went home and sorrowed for him. The little boat, however, did not sink, it drifted quietly down the stream, and the youth sat in it in perfect safety. It drifted for a long time, till at last it stuck fast on an unknown shore. The youth landed, and seeing a beautiful castle near, walked towards it. As he passed under the doorway, however, a spell fell upon him. He went through all the rooms, but found them empty, till he came to the very last one, where a Serpent lay coiling and uncoiling itself. The Serpent was really an enchanted maiden, who was delighted when she saw the youth, and said, ‘Have you come at last, my preserver? I have been waiting twelve years for you. This whole kingdom is bewitched, and you must break the spell.’
‘How am I to do that?’ he asked.
She said, ‘To-night, twelve black men hung with chains will appear, and they will ask what you are doing here. But do not speak a word, whatever they do or say to you. They will torment you, strike, and pinch you, but don’t say a word. At twelve o’clock they will have to go away. On the second night twelve more will come, and on the third twenty-four. These will cut off your head. But at twelve o’clock their power goes, and if you have borne it, and not spoken a word, I shall be saved. Then I will come to you, and bring a little flask containing the Water of Life, with which I will sprinkle you, and you will be brought to life again, as sound and well as ever you were.’
Then he said, ‘I will gladly save you!’
Everything happened just as she had said. The black men could not force a word out of him; and on the third night the Serpent became a beautiful Princess, who brought the Water of Life as she had promised, and restored the youth to life. Then she fell on his neck and kissed him, and there were great rejoicings all over the castle.
Their marriage was celebrated, and he became King of the Golden Mountain.
The Son made a circle, and his Father and he took their places within it, and the little black Mannikin appeared.
They lived happily together, and in course of time a beautiful boy was born to them.
When eight years had passed, the King’s heart grew tender within him as he thought of his father, and he wanted to go home to see him. But the Queen did not want him to go. She said, ‘I know it will be to my misfortune.’ However, he gave her no peace till she agreed to let him go. On his departure she gave him a wishing-ring, and said, ‘Take this ring, and put it on your finger, and you will at once be at the place where you wish to be. Only, you must promise never to use it to wish me away from here to be with you at your father’s.’
He made the promise, and put the ring on his finger; he then wished himself before the town where his father lived, and at the same moment found himself at the gate. But the sentry would not let him in because his clothes, though of rich material, were of such strange cut. So he went up a mountain, where a Shepherd lived, and, exchanging clothing with him, put on his old smock, and passed into the town unnoticed.
When he reached his father he began making himself known; but his father, never thinking that it was his son, said that it was true he had once had a son, but he had long been dead. But, he added, seeing that he was a poor Shepherd, he would give him a plate of food.
The supposed Shepherd said to his parents, ‘I am indeed your son. Is there no mark on my body by which you may know me?’
His mother said, ‘Yes, our son has a strawberry mark under his right arm.’
He pushed up his shirt sleeve, and there was the strawberry mark; so they no longer doubted that he was their son. He told them that he was the King of the Golden Mountain, his wife was a Princess, and they had a little son seven years old.
‘That can’t be true,’ said his father. ‘You are a fine sort of King to come home in a tattered Shepherd’s smock.’
His son grew angry, and, without stopping to reflect, turned his ring round and wished his wife and son to appear.In a moment they both stood before him; but his wife did nothing but weep and lament, and said that he had broken his promise, and by so doing had made her very unhappy. He said, ‘I have acted incautiously, but from no bad motive,’ and he tried to soothe her.
She appeared to be calmed, but really she nourished evil intentions towards him in her heart.
Shortly after he took her outside the town to the field, and showed her the stream down which he had drifted in the little boat. Then he said, ‘I am tired; I want to rest a little.’
So she sat down, and he rested his head upon her lap, and soon fell fast asleep. As soon as he was asleep, she drew the ring from his finger, and drew herself gently away from him, leaving only her slipper behind. Last of all, taking her child in her arms, she wished herself back in her own kingdom. When he woke up, he found himself quite deserted; wife and child were gone, the ring had disappeared from his finger, and only her slipper remained as a token.
‘I can certainly never go home to my parents,’ he said. ‘They would say I was a sorcerer. I must go away and walk till I reach my own kingdom again.’
So he went away, and at last he came to a mountain, where three Giants were quarrelling about the division of their father’s property. When they saw him passing, they called him up, and said, ‘Little people have sharp wits,’ and asked him to divide their inheritance for them.
It consisted, first, of a sword, with which in one’s hand, if one said, ‘All heads off, mine alone remain,’ every head fell to the ground. Secondly, of a mantle which rendered any one putting it on invisible. Thirdly, of a pair of boots which transported the wearer to whatever place he wished.
He said, ‘Give me the three articles so that I may see if they are all in good condition.’
So they gave him the mantle, and he at once became invisible. He took his own shape again, and said, ‘The mantle is good; now give me the sword.’
But they said, ‘No, we can’t give you the sword. If you were to say, “All heads off, mine alone remain,” all our heads would fall, and yours would be the only one left.’
At last, however, they gave it to him, on condition that he was to try it on a tree. He did as they wished, and the sword went through the tree trunk as if it had been a straw. Then he wanted the boots, but they said, ‘No, we won’t give them away. If you were to put them on and wish yourself on the top of the mountain, we should be left standing here without anything.’
‘No,’ said he; ‘I won’t do that.’
So they gave him the boots too; but when he had all three he could think of nothing but his wife and child, and said to himself, ‘Oh, if only I were on the Golden Mountain again!’ and immediately he disappeared from the sight of the Giants, and there was an end of their inheritance.
When he approached his castle he heard sounds of music, fiddles and flutes, and shouts of joy. People told him that his wife was celebrating her marriage with another husband. He was filled with rage, and said, ‘The false creature! She deceived me, and deserted me when I was asleep.’
Then he put on his mantle, and went to the castle, invisible to all. When he went into the hall, where a great feast was spread with the richest foods and the costliest wines, the guests were joking and laughing while they ate and drank. The Queen sat on her throne in their midst in gorgeous clothing, with the crown on her head. He placed himself behind her, and no one saw him. Whenever the Queen put a piece of meat on her plate, he took it away and ate it, and when her glass was filled he took it away and drank it. Her plate and her glass were constantly refilled, but she never had anything, for it disappeared at once. At last she grew frightened, got up, and went to her room in tears, but he followed her there too. She said to herself, ‘Am I still in the power of the demon? Did my preserver never come?’
He struck her in the face, and said, ‘Did your preservernever come? He is with you now, deceiver that you are. Did I deserve such treatment at your hands?’ Then he made himself visible, and went into the hall, and cried, ‘The wedding is stopped, the real King has come.’
The Kings, Princes, and Nobles who were present laughed him to scorn. But he only said, ‘Will you go, or will you not?’ They tried to seize him, but he drew his sword and said,
‘All heads off, mine alone remain.’
Then all their heads fell to the ground, and he remained sole King and Lord of the Golden Mountain.
A fairy
Once upon a time a poor peasant, named Crabb, was taking a load of wood drawn by two oxen to the town for sale.
ONCE upon a time a poor Peasant, named Crabb, was taking a load of wood drawn by two oxen to the town for sale. He sold it to a Doctor for four thalers. When the money was being paid to him, it so happened that the Doctor was sitting at dinner. When the Peasant saw how daintily the Doctor was eating and drinking, he felt a great desire to become a Doctor too. He remained standing and looking on for a time, and then asked if he could not be a Doctor.
‘Oh yes!’ said the Doctor; ‘that is easily managed.’
‘What must I do?’ asked the Peasant.
‘First buy an ABC book; you can get one with a cock as a frontispiece. Secondly, turn your wagon and oxen into money, and buy with it clothes and other things suitable for a Doctor. Thirdly, have a sign painted with the words, “I am Doctor Know-all,” and have it nailed over your door.’
The Peasant did everything that he was told to do.
Now when he had been doctoring for a while, not very long though, a rich nobleman had some money stolen from him. He was told about Doctor Know-all, who lived in such and such a village, who would be sure to know what had become of it. So the gentleman ordered his carriage and drove to the village.
He stopped at the Doctor’s house, and asked Crabb if he were Doctor Know-all.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Then you must go with me to get my stolen money back.’
‘Yes, certainly; but Grethe, my wife, must come too.’
The nobleman agreed, and gave both of them seats in his carriage, and they all drove off together.
When they reached the nobleman’s castle the dinner was ready, and Crabb was invited to sit down to table.
‘Yes; but Grethe, my wife, must dine too’; and he seated himself with her.
When the first Servant brought in a dish of choice food, the Peasant nudged his wife, and said: ‘Grethe, that was the first,’—meaning that the servant was handing the first dish. But the servant thought he meant, ‘That was the first thief.’ As he really was the thief, he became much alarmed, and said to his comrades outside—
‘That Doctor knows everything, we shan’t get out of this hole; he said I was the first.’
The second Servant did not want to go in at all, but he had to go, and when he offered his dish to the Peasant he nudged his wife, and said—‘Grethe, that is the second.’
This Servant also was frightened and hurried out.
The third one fared no better. The Peasant said again: ‘Grethe, that is the third.’
The fourth one brought in a covered dish, and the master told the Doctor that he must show his powers and guess what was under the cover. Now it was a dish of crabs.
The Peasant looked at the dish and did not know what to do, so he said: ‘Wretched Crabb that I am.’
When the Master heard him he cried: ‘There, he knows it! Then he knows where the money is too.’
Then the Servant grew terribly frightened, and signed to the Doctor to come outside.
When he went out, they all four confessed to him that they had stolen the money; they would gladly give it to him and a large sum in addition, if only he would not betray them to their Master, or their necks would be in peril. They also showed him where the money was hidden. Then the Doctor was satisfied, went back to the table, and said—
‘Now, Sir, I will look in my book to see where the money is hidden.’
The fifth, in the meantime, had crept into the stove to hearif the Doctor knew still more. But he sat there turning over the pages of his ABC book looking for the cock, and as he could not find it at once, he said: ‘I know you are there, and out you must come.’
The man in the stove thought it was meant for him, and sprang out in a fright, crying: ‘The man knows everything.’
Then Doctor Know-all showed the nobleman where the money was hidden, but he did not betray the servants; and he received much money from both sides as a reward, and became a very celebrated man.
THERE was once a Man who had seven sons, but never a daughter, however much he wished for one.
At last, however, he had a daughter.
His joy was great, but the child was small and delicate, and, on account of its weakness, it was to be christened at home.
The Father sent one of his sons in haste to the spring to fetch some water; the other six ran with him, and because each of them wanted to be the first to draw the water, between them the pitcher fell into the brook.
There they stood and didn’t know what to do, and not one of them ventured to go home.
As they did not come back, their Father became impatient, and said: ‘Perhaps the young rascals are playing about, and have forgotten it altogether.’
He became anxious lest his little girl should die unbaptized, and in hot vexation, he cried: ‘I wish the youngsters would all turn into Ravens!’
Scarcely were the words uttered, when he heard a whirring in the air above his head, and, looking upwards, he saw seven coal-black Ravens flying away.
The parents could not undo the spell, and were very sad about the loss of their seven sons, but they consoled themselves in some measure with their dear little daughter, who soon became strong, and every day more beautiful.
For a long time she was unaware that she had had any brothers, for her parents took care not to mention it.
However, one day by chance she heard some people saying about her: ‘Oh yes, the girl’s pretty enough; but you know she is really to blame for the misfortune to her seven brothers.’