NOTEBlack jugglery and deception are practiced upon the poor dairy-maid in “The Troll Wedding” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 50. From Hadeland, told by aSignekjarring, a kind of wise woman or herb doctress). Characteristic is the belief that troll magic and witchery may be nullified if a gun be fired over the place where it is supposed to be taking place. Then all reverts to its original form. Curious, also, is the belief that trolls like to turn into skeins of yarn when disturbed, and then roll swiftly away.
NOTE
Black jugglery and deception are practiced upon the poor dairy-maid in “The Troll Wedding” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 50. From Hadeland, told by aSignekjarring, a kind of wise woman or herb doctress). Characteristic is the belief that troll magic and witchery may be nullified if a gun be fired over the place where it is supposed to be taking place. Then all reverts to its original form. Curious, also, is the belief that trolls like to turn into skeins of yarn when disturbed, and then roll swiftly away.
Onceupon a time there was a big wedding at a certain farmstead, and a certain cottager was on his way to the wedding-feast. As he chanced to cross a field, he found a milk-strainer, such as are usually made of cows’ tails, and looking just like an old brown rag. He picked it up, for he thought it could be washed, and then he would give it to his wife for a dish-rag. But when he came to the house where they were celebrating the wedding, it seemed as though no one saw him. The bride and groom nodded to the rest of the guests, they spoke to them and poured for them; but he got neither greeting nor drink. Then the chief cook came and asked the other folk to sit down to the table; but he was not asked, nor did he get anything to eat. For he did not care to sit down of his own accord when no one had asked him. At last he grew angry and thought: “I might as well go home, for not a soul pays a bit of attention to me here.” When he reached home, he said: “Good evening, here I am back again.”
“For heaven’s sake, are you back again?” asked his wife.
“Yes, there was no one there who paid any attention to me, or even so much as looked at me,” said the man, “and when people show me so little consideration,it seems as though I have nothing to look for there.”
“But where are you? I can hear you, but I cannot see you!” cried his wife.
The man was invisible, for what he had found was ahuldrehat.
“What are you talking about? Can’t you see me? Have you lost your wits?” asked the man. “There is an old hair strainer for you. I found it outside on the ground,” said he, and he threw it on the bench. And then his wife saw him; but at the same moment the hat of thehuldresdisappeared, for he should only have loaned it, not given it away. Now the man saw how everything had come about, and went back to the wedding-feast. And this time he was received in right friendly fashion, and was asked to drink, and to seat himself at the table.
NOTEA favorite jewel among the treasures of the underground world plays the leading part of the tale: “The Hat of theHuldres” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 157; from the vicinity of Eidsvold, told by an old peasant woman). Often appearing in legend proper as the tarn-cap, it here finds a more humble place in everyday life, neither ennobled by legendary dignity, nor diversified by the rich incident of fairy-tale. The entertaining picture here afforded of its powers shows them all the more clearly.
NOTE
A favorite jewel among the treasures of the underground world plays the leading part of the tale: “The Hat of theHuldres” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 157; from the vicinity of Eidsvold, told by an old peasant woman). Often appearing in legend proper as the tarn-cap, it here finds a more humble place in everyday life, neither ennobled by legendary dignity, nor diversified by the rich incident of fairy-tale. The entertaining picture here afforded of its powers shows them all the more clearly.
Far, far from here, in a great forest, there once lived a poor couple. Heaven blessed them with a charming little daughter; but they were so poor they did not know how they were going to get her christened. So her father had to go forth to see whether he could not find a god-father to pay for the child’s christening. All day long he went from one to another; but no one wanted to be the god-father. Toward evening, as he was going home, he met a very lovely lady, who wore the most splendid clothes, and seemed most kind and friendly, and she offered to see that the child was christened, if she might be allowed to keep it afterward. The man replied that first he must ask his wife. But when he reached home and asked her she gave him a flat “no.” The following day the man set out again; but no one wanted to be the god-father if he had to pay for the christening himself, and no matter how hard the man begged, it was all of no avail. When he went home that evening, he again met the lovely lady, who looked so gentle, and she made him the same offer as before. The man again told his wife what had happened to him, and added that if he could not find a god-father for his child the following day, they would probably have to let the lady take her, since sheseemed to be so kind and friendly. The man then went out for the third time, and found no god-father that day. And so, when he once more met the friendly lady in the evening, he promised to let her have the child, if she would see that it was baptized. The following morning the lady came to the man’s hut, and with her two other men. She then took the child and went to church with it, and it was baptized. Then she took it with her, and the little girl remained with her for several years, and her foster-mother was always good and kind to her.
Now when the girl had grown old enough to make distinctions, and had acquired some sense, it chanced that her foster-mother once wished to take a journey. “You may go into any room you wish,” she said to the girl, “only you are not to go into these three rooms,” and then she set out on her journey. But the girl could not resist opening the door to the one room a little way—and swish! out flew a star. When her foster-mother came home, she was much grieved to find that the star had flown out, and was so annoyed with her foster-child that she threatened to send her away. But the girl pleaded and cried, until at last she was allowed to remain.
After a time the foster-mother wanted to take another journey, and she forbade the girl, above all, to go into the two rooms which, as yet, she had not entered. And the girl promised her that this time she would obey her. But when she had been alone for some time, and had had all sorts of thoughts as to what there might be in the second room, she couldno longer resist opening the second door a little way—and swish! out flew the moon. When the foster-mother returned, and saw the moon had slipped out, she again grieved greatly, and told the girl she could keep her no longer, and that now she must go. But when the girl again began to cry bitterly, and pleaded with such grace that it was impossible to deny her, she was once more allowed to remain.
After this the foster-mother wished to take another journey, and she told the girl, who was now more than half-grown, that she must take her request not to go, or even so much as peep into the third room, seriously to heart. But when the foster-mother had been away for some time, and the girl was all alone and bored, she could at last resist no longer. “O,” thought she, “how pleasant it would be to take a peep into that third room!” It is true, that at first she thought she would not do it, because of her foster-mother; yet when the thought returned to her, she could not hold back, after all; but decided that she should and must by all means take a peep. So she opened the door the least little bit—and swish! out flew the sun. When the foster-mother then returned, and saw that the sun had flown out, she grieved greatly, and told the girl that now she could positively stay with her no longer. The foster-daughter cried and pleaded even more touchingly than before; but all to no avail. “No, I must now punish you,” said the foster-mother. “But you shall have your choice of either becoming the most beautiful of all maidens, without the powerof speech, or the most homely, yet able to talk. But you must leave this place.” The girl said: “Then I would rather be the most beautiful of maidens without the power of speech”—and such she became, but from that time on she was dumb.
Now when the girl had left her foster-mother, and had wandered for a time, she came to a large, large wood, and no matter how far she went she could not reach its end. When evening came, she climbed into a high tree that stood over a spring, and sat down in its branches to sleep. Not far from it stood a king’s castle, and early the next morning a serving-maid came from it, to get water from the spring for the prince’s tea. And when the serving-maid saw the lovely face in the spring, she thought it was her own. At once she threw down her pail and ran back home holding her head high, and saying: “If I am as beautiful as all that, I am too good to carry water in a pail!” Then another was sent to fetch water, but the same thing happened with her; she, too, came back and said she was far too handsome and too good to go to the spring and fetch water for the prince. Then the prince went himself, for he wanted to see what it all meant. And when he came to the spring, he also saw the picture, and at once looked up into the tree. And so he saw the lovely maiden who was seated among its branches. He coaxed her down, took her back home with him, and nothing would do but that she must be his bride, because she was so beautiful. But his mother, who was still living, objected: “She cannot speak,” said she,“and, maybe, she belongs to the troll-folk.” But the prince would not be satisfied until he had won her. When, after a time, heaven bestowed a child upon the queen, the prince set a strong guard about her. But suddenly they all fell asleep, and her foster-mother came, cut the child’s little finger, rubbed some of the blood over the mouth and hands of the queen, and said: “Now you shall grieve just as I did when you let the star slip out!” And with that she disappeared with the child. When those whom the prince had set to keep guard opened their eyes again, they thought that the queen had devoured her child, and the old queen wanted to have her burned; but the prince loved her so very tenderly, that after much pleading he succeeded in having her saved from punishment, though only with the greatest difficulty.
“AND SO HE SAW THE LOVELY MAIDEN WHO WAS SEATED AMONG ITS BRANCHES.” —Page 59“AND SO HE SAW THE LOVELY MAIDEN WHO WAS SEATED AMONG ITS BRANCHES.”—Page 59
When heaven gave her a second child, a guard of twice as many men as had first stood watch was again set about her; yet everything happened as before, only that this time the foster-mother said to her: “Now you shall grieve as I did when you let the moon slip out!” The queen wept and pleaded—for when the foster-mother was there she could speak—but without avail. Now the old queen insisted that she be burned. But the prince once more succeeded in begging her free. When heaven gave her a third child, a three-fold guard was set about her. The foster-mother came while the guard slept, took the child, cut its little finger, and rubbed some of the blood on the queen’s mouth. “Now,” said she, “youshall grieve just as I did when you let the sun slip out!” And now the prince could in no way save her, she was to be and should be burned. But at the very moment when they were leading her to the stake, the foster-mother appeared with all three children; the two older ones she led by the hand, the youngest she carried on her arm. She stepped up to the young queen and said: “Here are your children, for now I give them back to you. I am the Virgin Mary, and the grief that you have felt is the same grief that I felt aforetimes, when you had let the star, the moon and the sun slip out. Now you have been punished for that which you did, and from now on the power of speech is restored to you!”
The happiness which then filled the prince and princess may be imagined, but cannot be described. They lived happily together ever after, and from that time forward even the prince’s mother was very fond of the young queen.
NOTE“The Child of Mary” (Asbjörnsen, and Moe, N.F.E., p. 34, No. 8, taken from the Bresemann translation [1847]), is a pious fairy-tale, which is also current in Germany; a good fairy often takes the place of the Virgin Mary.
NOTE
“The Child of Mary” (Asbjörnsen, and Moe, N.F.E., p. 34, No. 8, taken from the Bresemann translation [1847]), is a pious fairy-tale, which is also current in Germany; a good fairy often takes the place of the Virgin Mary.
Thecabin-boy had been traveling around all summer long with his captain; but when they began to prepare to set sail in the fall, he grew restless and did not want to go along. The captain liked him, for though he was no more than a boy, he was quite at home on deck, was a big, tall lad, and did not mind lending a hand when need arose; then, too, he did as much work as an able seaman, and was so full of fun that he kept the whole crew in good humor. And so the captain did not like to lose him. But the youth said out and out that he was not minded to take to the blue pond in the fall; though he was willing to stay on board till the ship was loaded and ready to sail. One Sunday, while the crew was ashore, and the captain had gone to a farm-holding near the forest, in order to bargain for small timber and log wood—presumably on his own account—for a deck load, the youth had been left to guard the ship. But you must know that he was a Sunday child, and had found a four-leaf clover; and that was the reason he had the second sight. He could see those who are invisible, but they could not see him.
And as he was sitting there in the forward cabin,he heard voices within the ship. He peered through a crack, and there were three coal-black crows sitting inside the deck-beams, and they were talking about their husbands. All three were tired of them, and were planning their death. One could see at once that they were witches, who had assumed another form.
“But is it certain that there is no one here who can overhear us?” said one of the crows. And by the way she spoke the cabin-boy knew her for the captain’s wife.
“No, you can see there’s not,” said the others, the wives of the first and second quartermasters. “There is not a soul aboard.”
“Well, then I do not mind saying that I know of a good way to get rid of them,” said the captain’s wife once more, and hopped closer to the two others. “We will turn ourselves into breakers, wash them into the sea, and sink the ship with every man on board.”
That pleased the others, and they sat there a long time discussing the day and the fairway. “But is it certain that no one can overhear us?” once more asked the captain’s wife.
“You know that such is the case,” said the two others.
“Well, there is a counter-spell for what we wish to do, and if it is used, it will go hard with us, for it will cost us nothing less than our lives!”
“What is the counter-spell, sister,” asked the wife of the one quartermaster.
“Is it certain that no one is listening to us? It seemed to me as though some one were smoking in the forward cabin.”
“But you know we looked in every corner. They just forgot to let the fire go out in the caboose, and that is why there’s smoke,” said the quartermaster’s wife, “so tell away.”
“If they buy three cords of birch-wood,” said the witch,—“but it must be full measure, and they must not bargain for it—and throw the first cord into the water, billet by billet, when the first breaker strikes, and the second cord, billet by billet, when the second breaker strikes, and the third cord, billet by billet, when the third breaker strikes, then it is all up with us!”
“Yes, that’s true, sister, then it is all up with us! Then it is all up with us!” said the wives of the quartermasters; “but there is no one who knows it,” they cried, and laughed loudly, and with that they flew out of the hatchway, screaming and croaking like ravens.
When it came time to sail, the cabin-boy would not go along for anything in the world; and all the captain’s coaxing, and all his promises were useless, nothing would tempt him to go. At last they asked him whether he were afraid, because fall was at hand, and said he would rather hide behind the stove, hanging to mother’s apron strings. No, said the youth, he was not afraid, and they could not say that they had ever seen him show a sign of so land-lubberly a thing as fear; and he was willing to proveit to them, for now he was going along with them, but he made it a condition that three cords of birch-wood were to be bought, full measure, and that on a certain day he was to have command, just as though he himself were the captain. The captain asked what sort of nonsense this might be, and whether he had ever heard of a cabin-boy’s being entrusted with the command of a ship. But the boy answered that was all one to him; if they did not care to buy the three cords of birch-wood, and obey him, as though he were captain, for the space of a single day—the captain and crew should know which day it was to be in advance—then he would set foot on the ship no more, and far less would he ever dirty his hands with pitch and tar on her again. The whole thing seemed strange to the captain, yet he finally gave in, because he wanted to have the boy along with him and, no doubt, he also thought that he would come to his senses again when they were once under way. The quartermaster was of the same opinion. “Just let him command all he likes, and if things go wrong with him, we’ll help him out,” said he. So the birch-wood was bought, full-measure and without haggling, and they set sail.
When the day came on which the cabin-boy was to take command, the weather was fair and quiet; but he drummed up the whole ship’s crew, and with the exception of a tiny bit of canvas, had all sails reefed. The captain and crew laughed at him, and said: “That shows the sort of a captain we have now. Don’t you want us to reef that last bit of sailthis very minute?” “Not yet,” answered the cabin-boy, “but before long.”
Suddenly a squall struck them, struck them so heavily that they thought they would capsize, and had they not reefed the sails they would undoubtedly have foundered when the first breaker roared down upon the ship.
The boy ordered them to throw the first cord of birch-wood overboard, billet by billet, one at a time and never two, and he did not let them touch the other two cords. Now they obeyed him to the letter, and did not laugh; but cast out the birch-wood billet by billet. When the last billet fell they heard a groaning, as though some one were wrestling with death, and then the squall had passed.
“Heaven be praised!” said the crew—and the captain added: “I am going to let the company know that you saved ship and cargo.”
“That’s all very well, but we are not through yet,” said the boy, “there is worse to come,” and he told them to reef every last rag, as well as what had been left of the topsails. The second squall hit them with even greater force than the first, and was so vicious and violent that the whole crew was frightened. While it was at its worst, the boy told them to throw overboard the second cord; and they threw it over billet by billet, and took care not to take any from the third cord. When the last billet fell, they again heard a deep groan, and then all was still. “Now there will be one more squall, and that willbe the worst,” said the boy, and sent every one to his station. There was not a hawser loose on the whole ship.
The last squall hit them with far more force than either of the preceding ones, the ship laid over on her side so that they thought she would not right herself again, and the breaker swept over the deck.
But the boy told them to throw the last cord of wood overboard, billet by billet, and no two billets at once. And when the last billet of wood fell, they heard a deep groaning, as though some one were dying hard, and when all was quiet once more, the whole sea was the color of blood, as far as eye could reach.
When they reached land, the captain and the quartermasters spoke of writing to their wives. “That is something you might just as well let be,” said the cabin-boy, “seeing that you no longer have any wives.”
“What silly talk is this, young know-it-all! We have no wives?” said the captain. “Or do you happen to have done away with them?” asked the quartermasters.
“No, all of us together did away with them,” answered the boy, and told them what he had heard and seen that Sunday afternoon when he was on watch on the ship; while the crew was ashore, and the captain was buying his deckload of wood.
And when they sailed home they learned that their wives had disappeared the day of the storm, and thatsince that time no one had seen or heard anything more of them.
NOTEA weird tale of the sea and of witches is that of “Storm Magic” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 248. From the vicinity of Christiania, told by a sailor, Rasmus Olsen). In the “Fritjof Legend” the hero has a similar adventure at sea with two witches, who call up a tremendous storm. It would be interesting to know the inner context of the cabin-boy’s counter magic, and why it is that the birch-wood, cast into the sea billet by billet, had the power to destroy the witches.
NOTE
A weird tale of the sea and of witches is that of “Storm Magic” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 248. From the vicinity of Christiania, told by a sailor, Rasmus Olsen). In the “Fritjof Legend” the hero has a similar adventure at sea with two witches, who call up a tremendous storm. It would be interesting to know the inner context of the cabin-boy’s counter magic, and why it is that the birch-wood, cast into the sea billet by billet, had the power to destroy the witches.
Onceupon a time there was a poor woman, who lived in a wretched hut far away from the village. She had but little to bite and less to burn, so she sent her little boy to the forest to gather wood. He skipped and leaped, and leaped and skipped, in order to keep warm, for it was a cold, gray autumn day, and whenever he had gathered a root or a branch to add to his bundle, he had to slap his arms against his shoulders, for the cold made his hands as red as the whortleberry bushes over which he walked. When he had filled his barrow, and was wandering homeward, he crossed a field of stubble. There he saw lying a jagged white stone. “O, you poor old stone, how white and pale you are! You must be freezing terribly!” said the boy; took off his jacket, and laid it over the stone. And when he came back home with his wood, his mother asked him how it was that he was going around in the autumn cold in his shirt-sleeves. He told her that he had seen a jagged old stone, quite white and pale with the frost, and that he had given it his jacket. “You fool,” said the woman, “do you think a stone can freeze? And even if it had chattered with frost, still, charity begins at home. Your clothes cost enough as it is, even when you don’t hang them onthe stones out in the field!”—and with that she drove the boy out again to fetch his jacket. When he came to the stone, the stone had turned around, and had raised itself from the ground on one side. “Yes, and I’m sure it is because you have the jacket, poor fellow!” said the boy. But when he looked more closely, there was a chest full of bright silver coins under the stone. “That must be stolen money,” thought the boy, “for no one lays money honestly earned under stones in the wood.” And he took the chest, and carried it down to the pond nearby, and threw in the whole pile of money. But a four-shilling piece was left swimming on the top of the water. “Well, this one is honest, for whatever is honest will float,” said the boy. And he took the four-shilling piece and the jacket home with him. He told his mother what had happened to him, that the stone had turned around, and that he had found a chest full of silver coins, and had thrown it into the pond because it was stolen money. “But a four-shilling piece floated, and that I took along, because it was honest,” said the boy. “You are a fool,” said the woman—for she was as angry as could be—“if nothing were honest save what floats on the water, there would be but little honesty left in the world. And if the money had been stolen ten times over, still you had found it, and charity begins at home. If you had kept the money, we might have passed the rest of our lives in peace and comfort. But you are a dunderhead and will stay a dunderhead, and I won’t be tormented and burdened with youany longer. Now you must get out and earn your own living.”
So the boy had to go out into the wide world, and wandered about far and near looking for service. But wherever he went people found him too small or too weak, and said that they could make no use of him. At last he came to a merchant. There they kept him to work in the kitchen, and he had to fetch wood and water for the cook. When he had been there for some time, the merchant decided to journey to far countries, and asked all his servants what he should buy and bring back home for them. After all had told him what they wanted, came the turn of the little fellow who carried wood and water for the kitchen. He handed him his four-shilling piece. “Well, and what am I to buy for it?” asked the merchant. “It will not be a large purchase.” “Buy whatever it will bring, it is honest money, that I know,” said the boy. His master promised to do so, and sailed away.
Now when the merchant had discharged his cargo in foreign parts and had reloaded, and had bought what his servants had desired, he went back to his ship, and was about to shove off. Not until then did he remember that the scullion had given him a four-shilling piece, with which to buy him something. “Must I go up to the city again because of this four-shilling piece? One only has one’s troubles when one bothers with such truck,” thought the merchant. Then along came a woman with a bag on her back. “What have you in your bag, granny?”asked the merchant. “O, it is only a cat! I can feed her no longer, and so I want to throw her into the sea in order to get rid of her,” said the old woman. “The boy told me to buy whatever I could get for the four-shilling piece,” said the merchant to himself, and asked the woman whether he could have her cat for four shillings. The woman agreed without delay, and the bargain was closed.
Now when the merchant had sailed on for a while, a terrible storm broke loose, a thunderstorm without an equal, and he drifted and drifted, and did not know where or whither. At last he came to a land where he had never yet been, and went up into the city.
In the tavern which he entered the table was set, and at every place lay a switch, one for each guest. This seemed strange to the merchant, for he could not understand what was to be done with all the switches. Yet he sat down and thought: “I will watch carefully, and see just what the rest do with them, and then I can imitate them.” Yes, and when the food came on the table, then he knew why the switches were there: the place was alive with thousands of mice, and all who were sitting at the table had to work and fight and beat about them with their switches, and nothing could be heard but the slapping of the switches, one worse than the other. Sometimes people hit each other in the face, and then they had to take time to say, “Excuse me!”
“Eating is hard work in this country,” said the merchant. “How is it the folk here have no cats?”“Cats?” said the people: they did not know what they were. Then the merchant had the cat that he had bought for the scullion brought, and when the cat went over the table, the mice had to hurry into their holes, and not in the memory of man had the people been able to eat in such comfort. Then they begged and implored the merchant to sell them his cat. At last he said he would let them have her; but he wanted a hundred dollars for her, and this they paid, and thanked him kindly into the bargain.
Then the merchant sailed on, but no sooner had he reached the high seas than he saw the cat sitting at the top of the main-mast. And immediately after another storm and tempest arose, far worse than the first one, and he drifted and drifted, till he came to a land where he had never yet been. Again the merchant went to a tavern, and here, too, the table was covered with switches; but they were much larger and longer than at the place where he had first been. And they were much needed; for there were a good many more mice, and they were twice the size of those he had first seen.
Here he again sold his cat, and this time he received two hundred dollars for her, and that without any haggling. But when he had sailed off and was out at sea a way, there sat the cat up in the mast. And the storm at once began again, and finally he was again driven to a land in which he had never been. Again he turned in at a tavern, and there the table was also covered with switches; but every switch was a yard and a half long, and as thick asa small broom, and the people told him that they knew of nothing more disagreeable than to sit down to eat, for there were great, ugly rats by the thousand. Only with toil and trouble could one manage to shove a bite of something into one’s mouth once in a while, so hard was it to defend oneself against the rats. Then the cat was again brought from the ship, and now the people could eat in peace. They begged and pleaded that the merchant sell them his cat; and for a long time he refused; but at last he promised that they should have her for three hundred dollars. And they paid him, and thanked him, and blessed him into the bargain.
Now when the merchant was out at sea again, he considered how much the boy had gained with the four-shilling piece he had given him. “Well, he shall have some of the money,” said the merchant to himself, “but not all of it. For he has to thank me for the cat, which I bought for him, and charity begins at home.”
But while the merchant was thinking these thoughts, such a storm and tempest arose that all thought the ship would sink. Then the merchant realized that there was nothing left for him to do but to promise that the boy should have all the money. No sooner had he made his vow, than the weather turned fair, and he had a favoring wind for his journey home. And when he landed, he gave the youth the six hundred dollars and his daughter to boot. For now the scullion was as rich as the merchant himself and richer, and thereafter he livedin splendor and happiness. And he took in his mother and treated her kindly. “For I do not believe that charity begins at home,” said the youth.
NOTE“The Honest Four-Shilling Piece” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 306, No. 59) stands for the idealization of childish simplicity and honesty, which after much travail, and despite the ill-will of the “experienced,” comes into its deserved own.
NOTE
“The Honest Four-Shilling Piece” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 306, No. 59) stands for the idealization of childish simplicity and honesty, which after much travail, and despite the ill-will of the “experienced,” comes into its deserved own.
Onceupon a time there was a lad who was better off than all the others. He was never short of money, for he had a purse which was never empty. He never was short of food, for he had a table-cloth on which, as soon as he spread it, he found all he wanted to eat and drink. And, besides, he had a magic wishing cap. When he put it on he could wish himself wherever he wanted, and there he would be that very moment.
There was only one thing that he lacked: he had no wife, and he was gradually coming into the years when it would be necessary for him to make haste.
As he was walking sadly along one fine day, it occurred to him to wish himself where he would find the most beautiful princess in the world. No sooner had he thought of it than he was there. And it was a land which he had never yet seen, and a city in which he had never yet been. And the king had a daughter, so handsome that he had never yet beheld her like, and he wanted to have her on the spot. But she would have nothing to do with him, and was very haughty.
Finally he despaired altogether, and was so beside himself that he could no longer be where she was not. So he took his magic cap and wished himself into thecastle. He wanted to say good-by, so he said. And she laid her hand in his. “I wish we were far beyond the end of the world!” said the youth, and there they were. But the king’s daughter wept, and begged to be allowed to go home again. He could have all the gold and silver in the castle in return. “I have money enough for myself,” said the youth, and he shook his purse so that money just rolled about. He could sit down at the royal table and eat the finest food, and drink the finest wines, said she. “I have enough to eat and drink myself,” said the youth. “See, you can sit down at the table,” said he, and at once he spread his table-cloth. And there stood a table covered with the best one might wish; and the king himself ate no better.
After they had eaten, the king’s daughter said: “O, do look at the handsome apples up there on the tree! If you were really kind, you would fetch me down a couple of them!” The youth was not lazy, and climbed up. But he had forgotten his table-cloth and his purse, and these she took. And while he was shaking down the apples his cap fell off. She at once put it on and wished herself back in her own room, and there she was that minute.
“You might have known it,” said the youth to himself, and hurried down the tree. He began to cry and did not know what to do. And as he was sitting there, he sampled the apples which he had thrown down. No sooner had he tried one than he had a strange feeling in his head, and when he looked more closely, he had a pair of horns. “Well,now it can do me no more harm,” said he, and calmly went on eating the apples. But suddenly the horns had disappeared, and he was as before. “Good enough!” said the youth. And with that he put the apples in his pocket, and set out to search for the king’s daughter.
He went from city to city, and sailed from country to country; but it was a long journey, and lasted a year and a day, and even longer.
But one day he got there after all. It was a Sunday, and he found out that the king’s daughter was at church. Then he sat himself down with his apples before the church door, and pretended to be a peddler. “Apples of Damascus! Apples of Damascus!” he cried. And sure enough, the king’s daughter came, and told her maidens to go and see what desirable things the peddler from abroad might have to offer. Yes, he had apples of Damascus. “What do the apples give one?” asked the maiden. “Wisdom and beauty!” said the peddler, and the maiden bought.
When the king’s daughter had eaten of the apples, she had a pair of horns. And then there was such a wailing in the castle that it was pitiful to hear. And the castle was hung with black, and in the whole kingdom proclamation was made from all pulpits that whoever could help the king’s daughter should get her, and half the kingdom besides. Then Tom, Dick and Harry, and the best physicians in the country came along. But none of them could help the princess.
But one day a foreign doctor from afar came to court. He was not from their country, he said, and had made the journey purposely just to try his luck here. But he must see the king’s daughter alone, said he, and permission was granted him.
The king’s daughter recognized him, and grew red and pale in turn. “If I help you now, will you marry me?” asked the youth. Yes, indeed she would. Then he gave her one of the magic apples, and her horns were only half as large as before. “But I cannot do more until I have my cap, and my table-cloth, and my purse back again,” said he. So she went and brought him the things. Then he gave her still another magic apple, and now the horns were no more than tiny hornlets. “But now I cannot go on until you have sworn that you will be true to me,” said he. And she swore that she would. And after she had eaten the third apple, her forehead was quite smooth again, and she was even more beautiful than in days gone by.
Then there was great joy in the castle. They prepared for the wedding with baking and brewing, and invited people from East and West to come to it. And they ate and drank, and were merry and of good cheer, and if they have not stopped, they are merry and of good cheer to this very day!
NOTE“The Magic Apples” (Norske Eventyr og Sagn, optegnet av Sophus Bugge og Rikard Berge, Christiania, 1909, p. 61) is probably a somewhatoriginal version of one of the cycles of tales in which people acquire asses’ ears, long noses, humped backs and other adornments, through eating some enchanted fruit. The British Isles are believed to be the home-land of this tale, and it is thought to have emigrated to Scandinavia by way of France and Germany.
NOTE
“The Magic Apples” (Norske Eventyr og Sagn, optegnet av Sophus Bugge og Rikard Berge, Christiania, 1909, p. 61) is probably a somewhatoriginal version of one of the cycles of tales in which people acquire asses’ ears, long noses, humped backs and other adornments, through eating some enchanted fruit. The British Isles are believed to be the home-land of this tale, and it is thought to have emigrated to Scandinavia by way of France and Germany.
Onceupon a time there was a mill, in which it was impossible to grind flour, because such strange things kept happening there. But there was a poor woman who was in urgent need of a little meal one evening, and she asked whether they would not allow her to grind a little flour during the night. “For heaven’s sake,” said the mill-owner, “that is quite impossible! There are ghosts enough in the mill as it is.” But the woman said that she must grind a little; for she did not have a pinch of flour in the house with which to make mush, and there was nothing for her children to eat. So at last he allowed her to go to the mill at night and grind some flour. When she came, she lit a fire under a big tar-barrel that was standing there; got the mill going, sat down by the fire, and began to knit. After a time a girl came in and nodded to her. “Good evening!” said she to the woman. “Good evening!” said the woman; kept her seat, and went on knitting. But then the girl who had come in began to pull apart the fire on the hearth. The woman built it up again.
“What is your name?” asked the girl from underground.
“Self is my name,” said the woman.
That seemed a curious name to the girl, and sheonce more began to pull the fire apart. Then the woman grew angry and began to scold, and built it all up again. Thus they went on for a good while; but at last, while they were in the midst of their pulling apart and building up of the fire, the woman upset the tar-barrel on the girl from underground. Then the latter screamed and ran away, crying:
“Father, father! Self burned me!”
“Nonsense, if self did it, then self must suffer for it!” came the answer from below the hill.
NOTE“Self Did It” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 10. From the vicinity of Sandakar, told by a half-grown boy) belongs to the cycle of the Polyphemus fairy-tales, with a possible glimmer of the old belief that beings low in the mythological scale are most easily controlled by fire.
NOTE
“Self Did It” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 10. From the vicinity of Sandakar, told by a half-grown boy) belongs to the cycle of the Polyphemus fairy-tales, with a possible glimmer of the old belief that beings low in the mythological scale are most easily controlled by fire.
Onceupon a time there was a king who had several sons; I do not just know how many there were, but the youngest was not content at home, and insisted on going out into the world to seek his fortune. And in the end the king had to give him permission to do so. After he had wandered for a few days, he came to a giant’s castle, and took service with the giant. In the morning the giant wanted to go off to herd his goats, and when he started he told the king’s son he was to clean the stable in the meantime. “And when you are through with that, you need do nothing more for to-day, for you might as well know that you have come to a kind master,” said he. “But you must do what you are told to do conscientiously and, besides, you must not go into any of the rooms that lie behind the one in which you slept last night, else your life will pay the forfeit.”
“He surely is a kind master,” said the king’s son to himself, walked up and down the room, and whistled and sang; for, thought he, there would be plenty of time to clean the stable. “But it would be nice to take a look at the other room, there surely must be something in it that he is alarmed about,since I am not so much as to take a look,” thought he, and went into the first room. There hung a kettle, and it was boiling, but the king’s son could find no fire beneath it. “What can there be in it?” thought he, and dipped in a lock of his hair, and at once the hair grew just like copper. “That’s a fine soup, and whoever tastes it will burn his mouth,” said the youth, and went into the next room. There hung another kettle that bubbled and boiled; but there was no fire beneath it, either. “I must try this one, too,” said the king’s son, and again he dipped in a lock of his hair and it grew just like silver. “We have no such expensive soup at home,” said the king’s son, “but the main thing is, how does it taste?” and with that he went into the third room. And there hung still another kettle, a-boiling just like those in the two other rooms, and the king’s son wanted to try this one, too. He dipped in a lock of his hair, and it came out like pure gold, and fairly shimmered.
Then the king’s son said: “Better and better! But if he cooks gold here, I wonder what he cooks inside, there?” And he wanted to see, so he went into the fourth room. Here there was no kettle to be seen; but a maiden sat on a bench who must have been a king’s daughter; yet whatever she might be, the king’s son had never seen any one so beautiful in all his days. “Now in heaven’s name, what are you doing here?” asked the maiden. “I hired myself out here yesterday,” said the king’s son. “May God be your aid, for it is a fine service you havechosen!” said she. “O, the master is very friendly,” said the king’s son. “He has given me no hard work to do to-day. When I have cleaned out the stable, I need do nothing more.” “Yes, but how are you going to manage it?” she went on. “If you do as the others have done, then for every shovelful you pitch out, ten fresh shovelfuls will fly in. But I’ll tell you how to go about it. You must turn around the shovel, and work with the handle, then everything will fly out by itself.”
This he would do, said the king’s son; and he sat there with her all day long, for they had soon agreed that they would marry, he and the king’s daughter, and in this way his first day in the giant’s service did not weary him at all. When evening came on, she told him that now he must clean out the stable before the giant came, and when he got there he thought he would try out her advice, and began to use the shovel as he had seen his father’s grooms use it. And sure enough, he had to stop quickly, for after he had worked a little while, he hardly had room in which to stand. Then he did as the king’s daughter had told him, turned the shovel around and used the handle. And in a wink the stable was as clean as though it had been scrubbed. When he had finished he went to the room that the giant had assigned him, and walked up and down, whistling and singing. Then the giant came home with his goats. “Have you cleaned out the stable?” he asked. “Yes, indeed, master, it is spick and span,” said the king’s son. “I’ll have to see that,” said the giant,and went into the stable; but it was just as the king’s son had said. “You surely have been talking to the Master Girl, for you could not have done that alone,” said the giant. “Master Girl? What is a Master Girl?” said the king’s son, and pretended to be very stupid. “I’d like to see her, too.” “You will see her in plenty of time,” said the giant.
The next morning the giant went off again with his goats. And he told the king’s son he was to fetch his horse from the pasture, and when he had done this, he might rest: “For you have come to a kind master,” said he. “But if you enter one of the rooms which I forbade you entering yesterday, I will tear off your head,” he said, and went away with his herd. “Indeed, you are a kind master,” said the king’s son, “but in spite of it I’d like to have another little talk with the Master Girl, for she is just as much mine as yours,” and with that he went in to her. She asked him what work he had to do that day. “O, it is not so bad to-day,” said the king’s son. “I am only to fetch his horse from the pasture.” “And how are you going to manage that?” asked the Master Girl. “Surely it is no great feat to fetch a horse from pasture,” said the king’s son, “and I have ridden swift horses before.” “Yet it is not an easy matter to ride this horse home,” said the Master Girl, “but I will tell you how to set about it: When you see the horse, he will come running up, breathing fire and flame, just as though he were a burning pine-torch. Then you must take the bit that is hanging here on the door, and throw it intohis mouth, for then he will grow so tame that you can do what you will with him.” He would take good note of it, said the king’s son, and he sat there with the Master Girl the whole day long, and they chatted and talked about this and that, but mainly about how delightful it would be, and what a pleasant time they could have, if they could only marry and get away from the giant. And the king’s son would have forgotten the pasture and the horse altogether, had not the Master Girl reminded him of them toward evening. He took the bit that hung in the corner, hurried out to the pasture, and the horse at once ran up, breathing fire and flame; but he seized the moment when he came running up to him with his jaws wide open, and threw the bit into his mouth. Then he stood still, as gentle as a young lamb, and he had no trouble bringing him to the stable. Then he went to his room again, and began to whistle and sing. In the evening the giant came home with his goats. “Did you fetch the horse?” he asked. “Yes, master,” said the king’s son. “It would make a fine saddle-horse, but I just took it straight to the stable.” “I’ll have to see that,” said the giant, and went into the stable. But there stood the horse, just as the king’s son had said. “You surely must have spoken to my Master Girl, for you could not have done that alone,” said the giant. “Yesterday the master chattered about the Master Girl, and to-day he is talking about her again. I wish master would show me the creature, for I surely would like to see her,” said the king’s son, and pretendedto be very simple and stupid. “You will get to see her in plenty of time,” said the giant.
On the third morning the giant went off again with his goats. “To-day you must go to the devil, and fetch me his tribute,” said he to the king’s son. “When you have done that, you may rest for the remainder of the time, for you have come to a kind master, and you might as well know it,” and with that he went off. “You may be a kind master,” said the king’s son; “yet you hand over some pretty mean jobs to me in spite of it, but I think I’ll look after your Master Girl a bit. You claim that she belongs to you, but perhaps, in spite of it, she may tell me what to do,” and with that he went in to her. And when the Master Girl asked him what the giant had given him to do that day, he told her he must go to the devil and fetch a tribute. “But how will you go about it?” asked the Master Girl. “You will have to tell me that,” said the king’s son, “for I have never been to the devil’s place, and even though I knew the way there, I still would not know how much to ask for.” “I will tell you what you must do,” said the Master Girl. “You must go to the rock behind the pasture, and take the club that is lying there, and strike the rock with it. Then one will come out whose eyes flash fire, and you must tell him your business. And if he asks how much you want, you must tell him as much as you can carry.” He would take good note of it, said the king’s son, and he sat there with the Master Girl all day long until evening, and he might be sittingthere yet, if the Master Girl had not reminded him that he must still go to the devil about the tribute before the giant came home. So he set out, and did exactly as the Master Girl had told him: he went to the rock, took the club and beat against it. Then one came out from whose eyes and nose the sparks flew. “What do you want?” he asked. “The giant has sent me to fetch his tribute,” said the king’s son. “How much do you want?” the other again inquired. “I never ask for more than I can carry,” was the reply of the king’s son. “It is lucky for you that you did not ask for a whole ton at once,” said the one on the hill. “But come in with me, and wait a while.” This the king’s son did, and saw a great deal of gold and silver lying in the hill like dead rock in an ore-pile. Then as much as he could carry was packed up, and with it he went his way. When the giant came home in the evening with his goats, the king’s son was running about the room, whistling and singing as on the two preceding evenings. “Did you go to the devil for the tribute?” asked the giant. “Yes, indeed, master,” said the king’s son. “Where did you put it?” asked the giant again. “I stood the sack of gold outside on the bench,” was the reply. “I must see that at once,” said the giant, and went over to the bench. But the sack was really standing there, and it was so full that the gold and silver rolled right out when the giant loosened the string. “You surely must have spoken to my Master Girl,” said the giant. “If that is the case I will tear your head off.”“With your Master Girl?” said the king’s son. “Yesterday master talked about that Master Girl, and to-day he is talking about her again, and the day before yesterday he talked about her, too! I only wish that I might get the chance to see her sometime!” said he. “Well, just wait until to-morrow,” said the giant, “and then I will lead you to her myself,” he said. “A thousand thanks, master,” said the king’s son, “but I think you are only joking!” The following day the giant took him to the Master Girl.
“Now you must slaughter him, and cook him in the big kettle, you know which one I mean. And when the soup is ready, you can call me,” said the giant, and he lay down on the bench to sleep, and at once began to snore so that the hills shook. Then the Master Girl took a knife, and cut the youth’s little finger, and let three drops of blood fall on the bench. Then she took all the old rags, and old shoes and other rubbish she could find, and threw them all into the kettle. And then she took a chest of gold-dust, and a lick-stone, and a bottle of water that hung over the door, and a golden apple, and two golden hens, and left the giant’s castle together with the king’s son as quickly as possible. After a time they came to the sea, and they sailed across; though where they got the ship I do not exactly know.
Now when the giant had been sleeping quite a while, he began to stretch himself on his bench. “Is dinner ready yet?” he asked. “Just begun!” said the first drop of blood on the bench. Then the giantturned around, went to sleep again, and went on sleeping for quite some time. Then he again turned around a little. “Is dinner not ready yet?” he said, but did not open his eyes—nor had he done so the first time—for he was still half asleep. “It is half ready!” called out the second drop of blood, and then the giant thought it was the Master Girl. He turned around on the bench and took another nap. After he had slept a couple of hours longer, he once more began to move about and stretch: “Is dinner still not ready?” said he. “Ready!” answered the third drop of blood. The giant sat up and rubbed his eyes. But he could not see who had called him, and so he called out to the Master Girl. But no one answered him. “O, I suppose she has gone out for a little,” thought the giant, and he dipped his spoon in the kettle to try the dinner; but there was nothing but leather soles and rags and like rubbish cooked together, and he did not know whether it were mush or porridge. When he noticed this he began to see a light, and realize how matters had come to pass, and he grew so angry that he hardly knew what to do, and made after the king’s son and the Master Girl in flying haste. In a short time he came to the sea, and could not cross. “But I know how to help myself,” said he. “I will fetch my sea-sucker.” So the sea-sucker came, and lay down and took two or three swallows, and thus lowered the water so that the giant could see the king’s son and the Master Girl out on the ship. “Now you must throw the lick-stone overboard,” said the Master Girl, andthe king’s son did so. It turned into a tremendous large rock square across the sea, and the giant could not get over, and the sea-sucker could drink up no more of the sea. “I know quite well what I must do,” said the giant. “I must now fetch my hill-borer.” So the hill-borer came, and bored a hole through the rock, so the sea-sucker could get through and keep on sucking. But no sooner were they thus far than the Master Girl told the king’s son to pour a drop or so of the bottle overboard, and the sea grew so full that they had landed before the sea-sucker could so much as take a single swallow.
Now they wanted to go home to the father of the king’s son; but he would not hear of the Master Girl’s going afoot, since he did not think this fitting for either of them. “Wait here a little while, until I fetch the seven horses that stand in my father’s stable,” said the king’s son. “It is not far, and I will soon be back; for I will not have my bride come marching home afoot.” “No, do not do so, for when you get home to the castle you will forget me, I know that positively,” said the Master Girl. “How could I forget you?” said the king’s son. “We have passed through so many hardships together, and we love each other so dearly,” said he. He wanted to fetch the coach and seven horses at all costs, and she was to wait by the seashore. So at last the Master Girl had to give in.
“But when you get there, you must not take time to greet a single person. You must at once go to the stable, harness the horses, and drive back asswiftly as you can. They will all come to meet you, but you must act as though you did not see them, and must not take a single bite to eat. If you do not do that, you will make both of us unhappy,” said she. And he promised to do as she had said.
But when he got home to the castle, one of his brothers was just getting married, and the bride and all the guests were already there. They all crowded around him and asked him this, and asked him that, and wanted to lead him in. But he acted as though he saw none of them, led out the horses, and began to put them to the coach. And since they could by no manner of means induce him to come into the castle, they came out with food and drink, and offered him the best of all that had been prepared for the wedding feast.
But the king’s son would taste nothing, and only made haste in order to get away. Yet, finally, the bride’s sister rolled an apple over to him across the court-yard: “And if you will touch nothing else, then at least you might take a bite of the apple, for you must be hungry and thirsty after your long journey,” said she, and he took the apple and bit into it. But no sooner did he have the bit of apple in his mouth than he had forgotten the Master Girl, and that he was to fetch her. “I think I must be going mad! What am I doing with the horses and the coach?” he said, and he led back the horses into the stable, and went back to the castle, and wanted to marry the bride’s sister, the one who had thrown him the apple.
In the meantime the Master Girl sat by the seashore, and waited and waited; but no king’s son came. Then she went on, and after she had gone a while, she came to a little hut that lay all by itself in the forest, near the king’s castle. She went in and asked whether she might not stay there. Now the little hut belonged to an old woman, and she was an arrant and evil witch; at first she did not want to take in the Master Girl at all; but at last she agreed to do so for love of money. But the whole hut was as dark and dirty as a pig-sty; therefore the Master Girl said she would clean up a bit, so that things would look as they did in other, decent people’s houses. The old woman would have none of it, and was very disagreeable and angry; but the Master Girl paid no attention to her. She took the chest of gold dust, and threw a handful into the fire, so that a ray of gold shone over the whole hut, and it was gilded outside and in. But when the gold flamed up, the old woman was so terribly frightened that she ran out as though the evil one were after her, and from pure rage she forgot to duck at the threshold, and ran her head against the door-post. And that was the end of her.
The following morning the bailiff came by. He was much surprised to see the little golden hut, glittering and sparkling there in the forest, and was still more surprised at the girl within the hut. He fell in love with her at once, and asked her whether she would not become the bailiff’s lady. “Yes, but have you plenty of money?” said the Master Girl.Yes, he had quite a little, said the bailiff. Then he went home to fetch his money, and came back again at evening dragging along an enormous sack of it, which he stood on a bench before the door. The Master Girl said that, seeing he had so much money, she would accept him. And then she asked him to rake the fire, which she said she had forgotten to do. But as soon as he had the poker in his hand, the Master Girl cried: “May God grant that you hold the poker, and the poker hold you, and that sparks and ashes fly around you until morning!” And there the bailiff stood the whole night through, and sparks and ashes flew about him, nor were the sparks the less hot for all his complaining and begging. And when morning came, and he could let go the poker, he did not stay long; but ran off as though the evil one were at his heels. And those who saw him stared and laughed, for he ran like a madman, and looked as though he had been thrashed and tanned. And all would have liked to have known where he had come from, but he said not a word, for he was ashamed.
On the following day the clerk passed by the Master Girl’s little house. He saw it glistening and shining in the woods, and went in to find out who lived there. When he saw the beautiful girl he fell even more deeply in love with her than the bailiff had, and lost no time in suing for her hand. The Master Girl asked him, as she had asked the bailiff, whether he had plenty of money. Money he had to spare, answered the clerk, and ran right home tofetch it. By evening he was back again with a great sack—it must have been as much again as the bailiff had brought—and stood it on the bench. And so she promised to take him. Then she asked him to shut the house-door, which she said she had forgotten to do. But when he had the door-knob in his hand, she cried: “May God grant that you hold the door-knob and that the door-knob hold you, and that you move back and forth with it all night long until morning!” And the clerk had to dance the whole night through, such a waltz as he had never tripped before, and he had no wish to repeat the experience. Sometimes he was ahead, and sometimes the door was, and so they went back and forth all night, from wall to post and post to wall, and he was nearly bruised to death. First he cursed, then he wailed and pleaded; but the door paid no attention to him, and flung open and shut until it dawned. When it at last released him, he hurried away as quickly as though he had stolen something, forgot his sackful of money, and his wish to marry, and was glad that the door did not come threshing along after him. All grinned and stared at the clerk, for he ran like a madman, and looked worse than if a ram had been butting him all night long.
On the third day the magistrate came by, and also saw the little golden house in the forest. And he, too, went in to see who lived in it. And when he saw the Master Girl, he fell so deeply in love with her that he sued for her hand as soon as he bade her good-day. But she told him just what she hadtold the others, that if he had plenty of money she would take him. He had money enough, said the magistrate, and he went straight home to fetch it. When he came back in the evening, he had a much bigger sack of money with him than the clerk had had, and he stood it on the bench. Then the Master Girl said she would take him. But first she asked him to go fetch the calf, which she had forgotten to bring to the stable. And when he had the calf by the tail she cried: “May God grant that you hold the calf’s tail, and the calf’s tail hold you, and that you fly about the world together until morning!” And with that the race began, over stick and stone, over hill and dale, and the more the magistrate cursed and yelled, the more madly the calf ran away. When it dawned there was hardly a whole bone in the magistrate’s body, and he was so happy to be able to let go the calf’s tail that he forgot his bag of money, and the whole occurrence. It is true that he went home more slowly than the bailiff and the clerk; but the slower he went the more time the people had to stare and grin at him, so ragged and badly beaten did he appear after his dance with the calf.
On the following day there was to be a wedding at the castle, and not only was the older prince to marry, but the one who had stayed with the giant as well, and he was to get the other bride’s sister.
But when they entered the coach and were about to drive to church, one of the axles broke. They took another, and then a third, but all of them broke,no matter what kind of wood they used. It took a great deal of time, and they did not move from the spot, and got all out of sorts. Then the bailiff said, for he had also been invited to the wedding at the castle, that a maiden lived out in the forest, and “if they could only get the loan of her poker, it would be sure to hold.” So they sent to the little house in the forest, and asked most politely whether the maiden would not loan them the poker of which the bailiff had spoken. And they got it, too, and then they had an axle that would not break.
But when they wanted to drive on, the bottom of the coach broke. They made a new bottom as well as they were able, but no matter how they put it together, nor what kind of wood they used, it kept on breaking again as soon as they had left the court-yard. And they were worse off than they had been with the axle. Then the clerk said—for if the bailiff was one of the company, you may be sure they had not forgotten to invite the clerk—“Out in the forest lives a maiden, and if you will get the loan of her house-door, I am sure it would not break.” So they sent to the little house in the forest, and asked most politely whether the maiden would not loan them the golden house-door, of which the clerk had told them. And they got it, too, and were about to drive on, when suddenly the horses could not draw the coach. There were six, so they put to eight, and then ten and twelve, but though they put as many as they liked to the coach and helped along with the whip, still the coach would not budge. The day wasalready far advanced, and they simply had to get to church, and actually began to despair. But then the magistrate said that out in the golden house in the forest lived a maiden, “and if one could only get the loan of her calf, it would be sure to pull the coach, and though it were as heavy as a bowlder.” They did not think it quite the thing to drive to church with a calf; but still there was nothing to do but to send to the maiden, and to ask her most politely, with a kind greeting from the king, if she would loan them the calf of which the magistrate had spoken. Nor did the Master Girl refuse them this time. And then, when they had put the calf to the coach, it moved from the spot quickly enough. It flew over stick and stone, hill and dale, so that the people inside could hardly catch their breath. First it was on the ground, and next it was in the air, and when they reached the church, it spun around it like a top, and they had the greatest difficulty in getting out and into the church. And going home they went still faster, and were nearly out of their wits by the time they reached the castle.
When they sat down to the table the king’s son—the same who had been at the giant’s—said it would be no more than right to invite the maiden, too, who had lent them the poker, and the door and the calf: “for if we had not had these things, we should not have moved from the spot.” This seemed right to the king, so he sent five of his most distinguished courtiers to the little golden house. They were to carry the king’s kindest greetings, and askthat the maiden come up to the castle and take dinner with them. “A kind greeting to the king, and if he is too good to come to me, then I am too good to go to him,” said the Master Girl. So the king had to go to her himself, and then she went along with him at once, and the king saw very well that she was more than she appeared to be, and gave her a place at the head of the table, next to the young bridegroom. After they had been at dinner for a while, the Master Girl produced the rooster and the hen and the golden apple—they were the three things she had taken along from the giant’s castle—and placed them on the table before her. At once the rooster and the hen began to fight for the golden apple. “Why, just see how the two fight for the golden apple!” said the king’s son. “Yes, that is how we had to fight the time we wanted to get out of the rock!” said the Master Girl. And then the king’s son recognized her, and was very happy. The witch who had rolled the apple over to him was duly punished, and then the wedding really began, and the bailiff, and the clerk and the magistrate held out to the very end, for all that their wings had been so thoroughly singed.