[Illustration: HE SAID, “LITTLE TABLE SET THYSELF!”]
GRIMM’S FAIRY
TALES
EDITED BY
FRANCES JENKINS OLCOTT
[Illustration]
_Illustrated By
Rie Cramer_
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
1927
COPYRIGHT
1922 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
[Illustration]
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
Printed in the U. S. A.
FOREWORD
To our American boys and girls is offered this volume which is really
Grimm’s _Fairy Tales_, not an abridgment superficial and colorless, nor
an insipid retelling of the stories.
This edition is based on the Hunt version, with an introduction by
the folk-lorist, Andrew Lang. The Hunt version is considered a most
accurate English translation.
From the full collection, fifty-one stories suitable for children have
been selected. Among these are famous tales as well as many delightful
ones not usually included in children’s volumes.
Where the Hunt wording is too stilted, the text of the _Hausmärchen_
itself has been followed. The very long sentences have been subdivided.
While that quaint old-fashioned translation, illustrated with woodcuts
by Wehnert, has contributed its bit of folk phraseology. The Editor’s
desire is to restore to the children as large a collection as possible
of Grimm’s _Fairy Tales_ unmutilated in their literary perfection.
The illustrations are by the well-known Dutch artist, Mrs. Rie Cramer.
Some of Rie Cramer’s other fairy tale pictures published in England,
are said by admiring critics there, to be very charming, of exceptional
merit, and to have high artistic merit of their own.
Her illustrations for Grimm are particularly harmonious in color,
while their quaint charm grows on one more and more as one lives with
them. They are fanciful or humorous. They have the quality, rare in
fairy tales, of actually illustrating their text. This will mean added
pleasure to the children. Rie Cramer’s little black and white headings
are particularly pretty and graceful in outline.
The tales are presented here in their original form, with nothing left
out of child-heartedness, humor, poetic feeling, and delicate sentiment
and fancy. Indeed, it is all here--the poesy and purity which those
profound and child-loving scholars, the Brothers Grimm, retained in the
old folk-tales which, with so much pains, they gathered largely from
among the peasant-folk themselves.
And the Brothers explained, in their preface, that they had planned the
volume as an educational book as well as one for scholars; for which
reason they had eliminated everything which they feared might harm the
children. But since the Brothers issued their book, about a hundred
years ago, educational requirements of what is ethically best for
children have materially advanced. Therefore, in this book, a few other
parts unsuitable for children have been omitted.
So now this volume of Grimm’s _Fairy Tales_ is offered to our American
boys and girls; and may they have continued delight in the beautiful
old folk-fictions, which have come down to us from the fresh and
sparkling meadows and woods of ancient days.
Fathers and mothers, too, will enjoy reading the tales aloud and
sharing with the children the humor and the deep but simple ethical
truths so tenderly and poetically set forth therein.
Teachers and story-tellers, also, may find in this sincere version,
rich material for kindling the imagination and feeding the poetic fancy
of their pupils.
The Editor,
FRANCES JENKINS OLCOTT.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Editor’s acknowledgments are due to the following texts:
_Kinder und Hausmärchen_, following the last edition authorized by
William Grimm with the Grimm Introduction on the origin and educational
use of the tales.
_Household Stories_, illustrated by Wehnert, first published in London,
1853.
But most especially to _Household Tales_, with the Author’s notes,
translated by Margaret Hunt, introduction by Andrew Lang, Bohn Library.
For the use of the Hunt text the Editor gratefully acknowledges the
gracious permission of Messrs. Harcourt, Brace and Company, American
Publishers of the Bohn Library.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE FROG-KING; OR, IRON HENRY 13
THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS 19
RAPUNZEL 24
LITTLE BROTHER AND LITTLE SISTER 30
THE STAR-MONEY 39
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE 41
THE WHITE SNAKE 53
HAENSEL AND GRETHEL 59
THE SEVEN RAVENS 69
ASH-MAIDEN 73
THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER 83
THE THREE BROTHERS 86
LITTLE TABLE SET THYSELF, GOLD-ASS, AND CUDGEL OUT OF THE SACK 89
IRON JOHN 105
CLEVER ELSIE 117
THE BREMEN TOWN-MUSICIANS 122
THE SIX SWANS 127
THE POOR MILLER’S BOY AND THE CAT 134
LITTLE RED-CAP 140
KING THRUSHBEARD 145
THE GOLD-CHILDREN 151
LITTLE SNOW-WHITE 159
RUMPELSTILTSKIN 171
LITTLE BRIAR-ROSE 176
THE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD 181
THE GOLDEN BIRD 187
THE QUEEN BEE 197
BIRD-FOUND 200
THE GOLDEN GOOSE 204
MOTHER HOLLE 208
THE TWO TRAVELERS 213
JORINDA AND JORINGEL 228
HOW SIX MEN GOT ON IN THE WORLD 232
THE GOOSE-GIRL 240
THE SINGING, SOARING LARK 249
DOCTOR KNOWALL 257
THE BLUE LIGHT 260
THE SPINDLE, THE SHUTTLE, AND THE NEEDLE 267
THE THREE LUCK-CHILDREN 272
THE DONKEY CABBAGES 276
CLEVER HANS 285
THE IRON STOVE 291
SWEET PORRIDGE 299
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED 301
THE HEDGE-KING 310
ONE-EYE, TWO-EYES, AND THREE-EYES 314
THE GOOSE-GIRL AT THE WELL 325
THE SHOES THAT WERE DANCED TO PIECES 338
THE NIX OF THE MILL-POND 344
THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE WOOD 352
MAID MALEEN 360
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
He Said, “Little Table Set Thyself!” _Frontispiece_
The Little Kids Cried, “First Show Us Your Paws” 20
The King Said, “Will You Be My Dear Wife?” 35
“Yes,” Said She, “Now I Am Emperor” 48
There Lay the Gold Ring in the Shell 57
Each Star Sat on Its Own Little Chair 71
The Elves Began to Stitch, Sew, and Hammer 84
The King’s Daughter Pulled Off His Hat, and His Golden Hair
Rolled Down 111
The Princess Went Out and Gathered Star-Flowers 130
“Well,” She Laughed, “He Has a Chin Like a Thrush’s Beak” 146
The Maiden Said, “I Will Be True to You, Your Life Long” 155
“Perhaps,” Said She, “Your Name is Rumpelstiltskin?” 174
In the Moonlight He Saw a Bird Whose Feathers Were Shining
with Gold 188
A Heavy Shower of Gold-Rain Fell 210
The Eldest Got the Merry Tailor for a Husband 227
The Head Answered, “Alas! Young Queen How Ill You Fare” 244
The First Servant Came With a Dish of Delicate Fare 258
When the Corn Was Ripe, They Shot It Down 273
Then the King’s Daughter Came to a Little House and Peeped
in Through the Window 294
“Don’t Be Impatient,” Said Snow-White, “I Will Help You” 306
When the Gray Mask Fell Off, the Golden Hair Broke Forth
Like Sunbeams 333
The Full Moon Came: She Combed Her Long Black Hair With
the Golden Comb 348
The Prince Took Her by the Hand and Led Her to Church 363
[Illustration]
GRIMM’S FAIRY TALES
THE FROG-KING; OR, IRON HENRY
In old times, when wishing was having, there lived a King whose
daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that
the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it
shone in her face.
Close by the King’s castle lay a great dark forest, and under an old
lime-tree in the forest, was a fountain. When the day was very warm,
the King’s Child went out into the forest and sat down by the side of
the cool fountain, and when she was dull she took a golden ball, and
threw it up in the air and caught it. And this ball was her favorite
plaything.
Now, it so happened one day, the King’s Daughter’s golden ball did not
fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it, but on to
the ground, and rolled straight into the water. The King’s Daughter
followed it with her eyes; but it vanished, and the well was deep, so
deep that the bottom could not be seen. On this she began to cry, and
cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted.
And as she thus lamented, some one said to her, “What ails you, King’s
Daughter? You weep so that even a stone would show pity.”
She looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw
a Frog stretching its thick, ugly head from the water. “Ah! old
water-splasher, is it you?” said she; “I am weeping for my golden ball,
which has fallen into the fountain.”
“Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered the Frog, “I can help you. But
what will you give me if I bring your plaything up again?”
“Whatever you will have, dear Frog,” said she--“my clothes, my pearls
and jewels, and even the golden crown which I am wearing.”
The Frog answered, “I do not care for your clothes, your pearls and
jewels, or your golden crown, but if you will love me and let me be
your companion and playfellow, and sit by you at your little table, and
eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of your little cup, and
sleep in your little bed--if you will promise me this, I will go down
below, and bring your golden ball up again.”
“Oh, yes,” said she, “I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring
my ball back again.” She, however, thought, “How the silly Frog does
talk! He lives in the water with the other frogs and croaks, and can be
no companion to any human being!”
But the Frog, when he had received this promise, put his head into the
water and sank down. In a short time he came swimming up again with
the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s Daughter
was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and picked it up,
and ran away with it.
“Wait, wait,” said the Frog. “Take me with you. I can’t run as you
can.” But what did it avail him to scream his _croak, croak,_ after
her, as loudly as he could? She did not listen to it, but ran home and
soon forgot the poor Frog, who was forced to go back into his fountain
again.
The next day, when she had seated herself at table with the King
and all the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate,
something came creeping _splish splash, splish splash,_ up the marble
staircase. When it got to the top, it knocked at the door, and cried:
“_King’s Daughter, youngest.
Open the door!_”
She ran to see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat
the Frog in front of it. Then she slammed the door in great haste, sat
down to dinner again, and was quite frightened.
The King saw plainly that her heart was beating violently, and said,
“My Child, what are you so afraid of? Is there a Giant outside who
wants to carry you away?”
“Ah, no,” replied she, “it is no Giant, but a disgusting Frog.”
“What does the Frog want with you?”
“Ah, dear Father, yesterday when I was in the forest sitting by the
fountain, playing, my golden ball fell into the water. And because I
cried so, the Frog brought it out again for me. And because he insisted
so on it, I promised him he should be my companion; but I never thought
he would be able to come out of the water! And now he is here, and
wants to come in.”
In the meantime, it knocked a second time, and cried:
“_King’s Daughter, youngest!
Open to me!
Don’t you remember yesterday,
And all that you to me did say,
Beside the cooling fountain’s spray?
King’s Daughter, youngest!
Open to me!_”
Then said the King, “That which you have promised you must perform. Go
and let him in.”
She went and opened the door, and the Frog hopped in and followed her,
step by step, to her chair. There he sat still and cried, “Lift me up
beside you.”
She delayed, until at last the King commanded her to do it. When the
Frog was once on the chair, he wanted to be on the table, and when he
was on the table, he said, “Now, push your little golden plate nearer
to me that we may eat together.”
She did this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly.
The Frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took,
choked her.
At length he said, “I have eaten and am satisfied. Now I am tired,
carry me into your little room and make your little silken bed ready;
and we will both lie down and go to sleep.”
The King’s Daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold Frog,
which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her
pretty, clean little bed.
But the King grew angry and said, “He who helped you when you were in
trouble, ought not afterward to be despised.”
So she took hold of the Frog with two fingers, carried him upstairs,
and put him in a corner. But when she was in bed, he crept to her and
said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as you; lift me up or I will
tell your father.”
Then she was terribly angry, and took him up and threw him with all her
might against the wall.
“Now, you will be quiet, odious Frog,” said she.
But when he fell down, he was no Frog but a King’s Son with beautiful
kind eyes!
He, by her father’s will, was now her dear companion and husband. Then
he told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked Witch, and how no
one could have delivered him from the fountain but herself, and that
to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom.
Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke them, a
coach came rolling up drawn by eight white horses, with white ostrich
feathers on their heads. They were harnessed with golden chains, and
behind stood the young King’s servant, Faithful Henry. Faithful Henry
had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a Frog, that he
had three iron bands laid round his heart, lest it should burst with
grief and sadness.
The coach was to conduct the young King into his kingdom. Faithful
Henry helped them both in, and placed himself behind again, and was
full of joy because of this deliverance. And when they had driven
a part of the way, the King’s Son heard a cracking behind him as if
something had broken. So he turned round and cried:
“_Henry, the coach does break!_”
“_No, no, my lord, you do mistake!
It is the band around my heart,
That felt such great and bitter smart,
When you were in the fountain strange,
When you into a Frog were changed!_”
Again and once again, while they were on their way, something cracked;
and each time the King’s Son thought the carriage was breaking. But
it was only the bands which were springing from the heart of Faithful
Henry because his master was set free and was happy.
[Illustration]
THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS
There was once on a time, an old Goat who had seven little Kids, and
loved them with all the love of a mother for her children.
One day, she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So
she called all seven to her and said, “Dear Children, I have to go
into the forest. Be on your guard against the Wolf. If he come in, he
will devour you all--skin, hair, and all. The wretch often disguises
himself; but you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black
feet.”
The Kids said, “Dear Mother, we will take good care of ourselves. You
may go away without any anxiety.”
Then the old one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.
It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door, and cried,
“Open the door, dear Children! Your mother is here, and has brought
something back with her for each of you.”
But the little Kids knew that it was the Wolf, by his rough voice. “We
will not open the door,” cried they; “you are not our mother. She has
a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough. You are the Wolf!”
Then the Wolf went away to a shopkeeper, and bought a great lump of
chalk, ate this and made his voice soft with it. Then he came back,
knocked at the door of the house, and cried, “Open the door, dear
Children! Your mother is here and has brought something back with her
for each of you.”
But the Wolf had laid his black paws against the window, and the
children saw them, and cried, “We will not open the door, our mother
has not black feet like you. You are the Wolf!”
Then the Wolf ran to a baker, and said, “I have hurt my feet, rub some
dough over them for me.”
And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and
said, “Strew some white meal over my feet for me.” The miller thought
to himself, “The Wolf wants to deceive some one,” and refused. But the
Wolf said, “If you will not do it, I will devour you.” Then the miller
was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Yes! so are men!
Now, the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at
it, and said, “Open the door for me, Children! Your dear little mother
has come home, and has brought every one of you something from the
forest with her.”
The little Kids cried, “First show us your paws that we may know if you
are our dear little mother.”
Then he put his paws in through the window. And when the Kids saw that
they were white, they believed all that he said, and opened the door.
But who should come in but _the Wolf_!
[Illustration: THE LITTLE KIDS CRIED, “FIRST SHOW US YOUR PAWS”]
They were terrified and wanted to hide themselves. One sprang under the
table, the second into the bed, the third into the stove, the fourth
into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the sixth under the
washing-bowl, and the seventh into the clock-case. But the Wolf found
them all and made no delay, but swallowed one after the other down his
throat. The youngest in the clock-case was the only one he did not find.
When the Wolf had satisfied his appetite, he took himself off, laid
himself down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began to
sleep.
Soon afterward, the old Goat came home again from the forest. Ah! what
a sight she saw there! The house-door stood wide open. The table,
chairs, and benches were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to
pieces, and the quilts and pillows were pulled off the bed.
She sought her children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called
them one after another by name, but no one answered. At last, when she
called the youngest, a soft voice cried, “Dear Mother, I am in the
clock-case.”
She took the Kid out, and it told her that the Wolf had come and had
eaten all the others. Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor
children!
At length, in her grief she went out, and the youngest Kid ran with
her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the Wolf by the tree and
he was snoring so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on
every side and saw that something was moving and struggling in his
stomach. “Ah!” said she, “is it possible that my poor children, whom he
has swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?”
Then the Kid had to run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and
thread, and the Goat cut open the monster’s stomach. Hardly had she
made one cut, than a little Kid thrust its head out, and when she had
cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were all still
alive, and had suffered no hurt whatever, for in his greediness the
monster had swallowed them whole.
What rejoicing there was! They embraced their dear mother, and jumped
like a tailor at his wedding. The mother, however, said, “Now go and
look for some big stones. We will fill the wicked beast’s stomach with
them, while he is asleep.”
Then the seven Kids dragged the stones thither with all speed, and put
as many of them into his stomach as they could get in. And the mother
sewed him up again in the greatest haste; so that he was not aware of
anything and never once stirred.
When the Wolf had had his sleep out, he got on his legs, and as the
stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to go to a well
to drink. But when he began to walk and to move about, the stones in
his stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then cried he:
“_What rumbles and tumbles
Against my poor bones?
I thought ’twas six Kids,
But it’s only big stones!_”
And when he got to the well and stooped over the water and was just
about to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in. There was no help
for it, but he had to drown miserably!
When the seven Kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried
aloud, “The Wolf is dead! The Wolf is dead!” and danced for joy round
about the well with their mother.
[Illustration]
RAPUNZEL
There was once a man and a woman, who had long in vain wished for a
child. At length, the woman hoped that God was about to grant her
desire.
These people had a little window at the back of their house from which
a splendid garden could be seen. It was full of the most beautiful
flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no
one dared to go into it because it belonged to a Witch, who had great
power and was dreaded by all the world.
One day, the woman was standing by this window and looking down
into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most
beautiful rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and green that she
longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some.
This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get
any of it, she quite pined away, and looked pale and miserable.
Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, “What ails you, dear Wife?”
“Ah,” she replied, “if I can’t get some of the rampion to eat, which is
in the garden behind our house, I shall die.”
The man, who loved her, thought, “Sooner than let your wife die, bring
her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost you what it will!”
In the twilight of evening, he clambered over the wall into the garden
of the Witch, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to
his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it with much
relish.
She, however, liked it so much--so very much--that the next day she
longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any
rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom
of evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had
clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the Witch
standing before him.
“How dare you,” said she with angry look, “descend into my garden and
steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it!”
“Ah,” answered he, “let mercy take the place of justice! I had to do it
out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt
such a longing for it that she would have died, if she had not got some
to eat.”
Then the Witch let her anger be softened, and said to him, “If the case
be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion
as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child
which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated,
and I will care for it like a mother.”
The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman at
last had a little daughter, the Witch appeared at once, gave the child
the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.
Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. When she
was twelve years old, the Witch shut her into a tower, which lay in
a forest, and had neither stairs nor door. But quite at the top was
a little window. When the Witch wanted to go in, she placed herself
beneath this, and cried:
“_Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down thy hair._”
Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she
heard the voice of the Witch, she unfastened her braided tresses and
wound them round one of the hooks of the window above. And then the
hair fell twenty ells down, and the Witch climbed up by it.
After a year or two, it came to pass that the King’s Son rode through
the forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so
charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in
her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound.
The King’s Son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of
the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had
so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest
and listened to it.
Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that a Witch came
there, and he heard how she cried:
“_Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down thy hair._”
Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the Witch climbed up
to her.
“If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will for once try my
fortune,” said he.
The next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried:
“_Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down thy hair._”
Immediately the hair fell down, and the King’s Son climbed up.
At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes
had never yet beheld, came to her. But the King’s Son began to talk
to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so
stirred, that it had let him have no rest, so he had been forced to see
her.
Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take
him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she
thought, “He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does;” and she said
yes, and laid her hand in his.
She said also, “I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know
how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you
come, and I will weave a ladder with it. When that is ready I will
descend, and you will take me on your horse.”
They agreed that until that time, he should come to her every evening,
for the old woman came by day. The Witch remarked nothing of this,
until once Rapunzel said to her, “Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens
that you are so much heavier for me to draw up, than the young King’s
Son--he is with me in a moment.”
“Ah! you wicked Child!” cried the Witch. “What do I hear you say!
I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have
deceived me!”
In her anger she clutched Rapunzel’s beautiful tresses, wrapped them
twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right,
and _snip, snap,_ they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the
ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a
desert, where she had to live in great grief and misery.
On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the Witch, in the
evening, fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off, to the hook
of the window; and when the King’s Son came and cried:
“_Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down thy hair,_”
she let the hair down.
The King’s Son ascended. He did not find his dearest Rapunzel above,
but the Witch, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks.
“Aha!” she cried mockingly, “you would fetch your dearest! But the
beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it,
and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you! You
will never see her more!”
The King’s Son was beside himself with grief and in his despair he
leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns
into which he fell, pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind
about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing
but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.
Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at length came to
the desert where Rapunzel lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice,
and it seemed so familiar to him that he went toward it. When he
approached, Rapunzel knew him, and fell on his neck and wept. Two of
her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see
with them as before.
He led her to his Kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they
lived for a long time, happy and contented.
[Illustration]
LITTLE BROTHER AND LITTLE SISTER
Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, “Since our
mother died, we have had no happiness; our stepmother beats us every
day, and if we come near her, she kicks us away with her foot. Our
meals are the hard crusts of bread that are left over. The little dog
under the table is better off, for she often throws it a nice bit.
May Heaven pity us! If our mother only knew! Come, we will go forth
together into the wide world.”
They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony places; and
when it rained the little sister said, “Heaven and our hearts are
weeping together.”
In the evening they came to a large forest, and they were so weary with
sorrow and hunger and the long walk, that they lay down in a hollow
tree and fell asleep.
The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high and shone down
hot into the tree. Then the little brother said, “Little Sister, I
am thirsty. If I knew of a little brook I would go and take a drink.
I think I hear one running.” The little brother got up and took the
little sister by the hand, and they set off to find the brook.
But the wicked stepmother was a Witch, and had seen how the two
children had gone away. She had crept after them, as Witches do creep,
and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest.
Now, when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the stones,
the little brother was going to drink out of it, but the little sister
heard how it said as it ran:
“_Who drinks of me, a Tiger be!
Who drinks of me, a Tiger be!_”
Then the little sister cried, “Pray, dear little Brother, do not drink,
or you will become a wild beast, and tear me to pieces.”
The little brother did not drink, although he was so thirsty, but said,
“I will wait for the next spring.”
When they came to the next brook, the little sister heard this say:
“_Who drinks of me, a wild Wolf be!
Who drinks of me, a wild Wolf be!_”
Then the little sister cried out, “Pray, dear little Brother, do not
drink, or you will become a Wolf, and devour me.”
The little brother did not drink, and said, “I will wait until we come
to the next spring, but then I must drink, say what you like; for my
thirst is too great.”
And when they came to the third brook, the little sister heard how it
said as it ran:
“_Who drinks of me, a Roebuck be!
Who drinks of me, a Roebuck be!_”
The little sister said, “Oh, I pray you, dear little Brother, do not
drink, or you will become a Roe, and run away from me.”
But the little brother had knelt by the brook, and had bent down and
drunk some of the water. And as soon as the first drops touched his
lips, he lay there a young Roe.
And now the little sister wept over her poor bewitched little brother,
and the little Roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at
last the girl said, “Be quiet, dear little Roe, I will never, never
leave you.”
Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the Roe’s neck, and
she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. With this she tied
the little animal and led it on; and she walked deeper and deeper into
the forest.
And when they had gone a very long way, they came to a little house.
The girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, “We can stay here
and live.”
Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the Roe.
Every morning she went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for
herself, and brought tender grass for the Roe, who ate out of her hand,
and was content and played round about her. In the evening, when the
little sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head
upon the Roe’s back: that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it.
And if only the little brother had had his human form, it would have
been a delightful life.
For some time, they were alone like this in the wilderness. But it
happened that the King of the country held a great hunt in the forest.
Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs, and the merry shouts
of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the Roe heard all, and was
only too anxious to be there.
“Oh,” said he to his little sister, “let me be off to the hunt, I
cannot bear it any longer;” and he begged so much that at last she
agreed.
“But,” said she to him, “come back to me in the evening. I must shut
my door for fear of the rough huntsmen, so knock and say, ‘My little
Sister, let me in!’ that I may know you. And if you do not say that, I
shall not open the door.”
Then the young Roe sprang away; so happy was he and so merry in the
open air.
The King and the huntsmen saw the pretty creature, and started after
him. But they could not catch him, and when they thought that they
surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and was gone.
When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, “My little
Sister, let me in.” Then the door was opened for him, and he jumped in,
and rested himself the whole night through upon his soft bed.
The next day, the hunt went on afresh, and when the Roe again heard the
bugle-horn, and the _ho! ho!_ of the huntsmen, he had no peace, but
said, “Sister, let me out, I must be off.”
His sister opened the door for him, and said, “But you must be here
again in the evening and say your password.”
When the King and his huntsmen again saw the young Roe with the golden
collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick and nimble for
them. This went on for the whole day, but by evening the huntsmen had
surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a little in the foot, so
that he limped and ran slowly. Then a hunter crept after him to the
cottage and heard how he said, “My little Sister, let me in,” and saw
that the door was opened for him, and was shut again at once.
The huntsman took notice of it all, and went to the King and told him
what he had seen and heard. Then the King said, “To-morrow we will hunt
once more.”
The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she saw that
her little Roe was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid herbs on
the wound, and said, “Go to your bed, dear Roe, that you may get well
again.”
But the wound was so slight that the Roe, next morning, did not feel it
any more. And when he again heard the sport outside, he said, “I cannot
bear it, I must be there. They shall not find it so easy to catch me!”
The little sister cried, and said, “This time they will kill you, and
here am I alone in the forest, and forsaken by all the world. I will
not let you out.”
“Then you will have me die of grief,” answered the Roe. “When I hear
the bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of my skin.”
Then the little sister could not do otherwise, but opened the door for
him with a heavy heart, and the Roe, full of health and joy, bounded
away into the forest.
When the King saw him, he said to his huntsman, “Now chase him all day
long till nightfall, but take care that no one does him any harm.”
As soon as the sun had set, the King said to the huntsmen, “Now come
and show me the cottage in the wood;” and when he was at the door,
he knocked and called out, “Dear little Sister, let me in.”
Then the door opened, and the King walked in, and there stood a maiden
more lovely than any he had ever seen. The maiden was frightened when
she saw, not her little Roe, but a man with a golden crown upon his
head. But the King looked kindly at her, stretched out his hand, and
said:
“Will you go with me to my palace and be my dear wife?”
[Illustration: THE KING SAID, “WILL YOU BE MY DEAR WIFE?”]
“Yes, indeed,” answered the maiden, “but the little Roe must go with
me. I cannot leave him.”
The King said, “He shall stay with you as long as you live, and shall
want nothing.”
Just then he came running in, and the little sister again tied him with
the cord of rushes, took it in her own hand, and went away with the
King from the cottage.
The King took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried her to his
palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp. She was now the
Queen, and they lived for a long time happily together. The Roe was
tended and cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden.
But the wicked Witch, because of whom the children had gone out into
the world, thought all the time that the little sister had been torn to
pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the little brother had
been shot for a Roe by the huntsmen. Now when she heard that they were
so happy, and so well off, envy and hatred rose in her heart and left
her no peace, and she thought of nothing but how she could bring them
again to misfortune.
Her own daughter, who was as ugly as night, and had only one eye,
grumbled at her and said, “A Queen! that ought to have been my luck.”
“Only be quiet,” answered the old woman, and comforted her by saying,
“when the time comes I shall be ready.”
As time went on, the Queen had a pretty little boy. It happened that
the King was out hunting; so the old Witch took the form of the
chambermaid, went into the room where the Queen lay, and said to her,
“Come, the bath is ready. It will do you good, and give you fresh
strength. Make haste before it gets cold.”
The daughter also was close by; so they carried the weak Queen into the
bathroom, and put her into the bath. Then they shut the door and ran
away. But in the bathroom they had made a fire of such deadly heat,
that the beautiful young Queen was soon suffocated.
When this was done, the old woman took her daughter, put a nightcap on
her head, and laid her in bed in place of the Queen. She gave her too
the shape and the look of the Queen, only she could not make good the
lost eye. But, in order that the King might not see it, she was to lie
on the side on which she had no eye.
In the evening, when he came home and heard that he had a son, he was
heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to see how she
was. But the old woman quickly called out, “For your life leave the
curtains closed. The Queen ought not to see the light yet, and must
have rest.”
The King went away, and did not find out that a false Queen was lying
in the bed.
But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the
nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw the door
open and the true Queen walk in. She took the child out of the cradle,
laid it on her arm and nursed it. Then she shook up its pillow, laid
the child down again, and covered it with the little quilt. And she did
not forget the Roe, but went into the corner where he lay, and stroked
his back. Then she went quite silently out of the door again.
The next morning, the nurse asked the guards whether any one had come
into the palace during the night, but they answered, “No, we have seen
no one.”
She came thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse always saw
her, but she did not dare to tell any one about it.
When some time had passed in this manner, the Queen began to speak in
the night, and said:
“_How fares my child, how fares my Roe?
Twice shall I come, then never moe!_”
The nurse did not answer, but when the Queen had gone again, went to
the King and told him all.
The King said, “Ah, heavens! what is this? To-morrow night I will watch
by the child.”
In the evening he went into the nursery, and at midnight the Queen
again appeared, and said:
“_How fares my child, how fares my Roe?
Once shall I come, then never moe!_”
And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she disappeared.
The King dared not speak to her, but on the next night he watched
again. Then she said:
“_How fares my child, How fares my Roe?
This time I come, then never moe!_”
At that the King could not restrain himself. He sprang toward her, and
said, “You can be none other than my dear wife.”
She answered, “Yes, I am your dear wife,” and at the same moment she
received life again, and by God’s grace became fresh, rosy, and full of
health.
Then she told the King the evil deed which the wicked Witch and her
daughter had been guilty of toward her. The King ordered both to be led
before the judge, and judgment was delivered against them. The daughter
was taken into the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild beasts,
but the Witch was cast into the fire and miserably burnt.
And as soon as she was burnt the Roe changed his shape, and received
his human form again. So the little sister and little brother lived
happily together all their lives.
[Illustration]
THE STAR-MONEY
There was once on a time, a little girl whose father and mother were
dead. She was so poor that she no longer had any little room to live
in, or bed to sleep in. At last, she had nothing else but the clothes
she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her hand which some
charitable soul had given her. She was, however, good and pious.
And as she was thus forsaken by all the world, she went forth into the
open country, trusting in the good God.
Then a poor man met her, who said, “Ah, give me something to eat, I am
so hungry!”
She reached him the whole of her piece of bread, and said, “May God
bless it to your use,” and went onward.
Then came a child who moaned and said, “My head is so cold, give me
something to cover it with.”
So she took off her hood and gave it to him.
And when she had walked a little farther, she met another child who had
no jacket and was frozen with cold. Then she gave it her own.
A little farther on one begged for a frock, and she gave away that also.
At length, she got into a forest and it had already become dark, and
there came yet another child, and asked for a little shirt. The good
little girl thought to herself, “It is a dark night and no one sees me.
I can very well give my little shirt away,” and took it off, and gave
away that also.
And she so stood, and had not one single thing left. Then suddenly some
Stars from heaven fell down, and they were nothing else but hard smooth
pieces of money! And although she had just given her little shirt away,
lo! she had a new one which was of the very finest linen.
Then she gathered together the money into this, and was rich all the
days of her life.
[Illustration]
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE
There was once on a time, a Fisherman who lived with his wife in a
miserable hovel close by the sea, and every day he went out fishing.
And once, as he was sitting with his rod, looking at the clear water,
his line suddenly went down, far down below, and when he drew it up
again, he brought out a large Flounder.
Then the Flounder said to him: “Hark, you Fisherman, I pray you, let me
live. I am no Flounder really, but an enchanted Prince. What good will
it do you to kill me? I should not be good to eat. Put me in the water
again, and let me go.”
“Come,” said the Fisherman, “there is no need for so many words about
it--a fish that can talk I should certainly let go, anyhow.”
With that he put him back again into the clear water, and the Flounder
went to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the
Fisherman got up and went home to his wife in the hovel.
“Husband,” said the woman, “have you caught nothing to-day?”
“No,” said the man, “I did catch a Flounder, who said he was an
enchanted Prince, so I let him go again.”
“Did you not wish for anything first?” said the woman.
“No,” said the man; “what should I wish for?”
“Ah,” said the woman, “it is surely hard to have to live always in
this dirty hovel. You might have wished for a small cottage for us. Go
back and call him. Tell him we want to have a small cottage. He will
certainly give us that.”
“Ah,” said the man, “why should I go there again?”
“Why,” said the woman, “you did catch him, and you let him go again. He
is sure to do it. Go at once.”
The man still did not quite like to go, but did not want to oppose his
wife, and went to the sea.
When he got there the sea was all green and yellow, and no longer
smooth. So he stood and said:
“_Flounder, Flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, Dame Ilsabil,
Wills not as I’d have her will._”
Then the Flounder came swimming to him and said, “Well, what does she
want, then?”
“Ah,” said the man, “I did catch you, and my wife says I really ought
to have wished for something. She does not like to live in a wretched
hovel any longer. She would like to have a cottage.”
“Go, then,” said the Flounder, “she has it already.”
When the man got home, his wife was no longer in the hovel. But instead
of it, there stood a small cottage, and she was sitting on a bench
before the door. Then she took him by the hand and said to him, “Just
come inside, look. Now isn’t this a great deal better?”
So they went in, and there was a small porch, and a pretty little
parlor and bedroom, and a kitchen and pantry, with the best of
furniture, and fitted up with the most beautiful things made of tin and
brass, whatsoever was wanted. And behind the cottage, there was a small
yard, with hens and ducks, and a little garden with flowers and fruit.
“Look,” said the wife, “is not that nice!”
“Yes,” said the husband, “and so we must always think it,--now we will
live quite contented.”
“We will think about that,” said the wife.
With that they ate something and went to bed.
Everything went well for a week or a fortnight, and then the woman
said, “Hark you, Husband, this cottage is far too small for us, and the
garden and yard are little. The Flounder might just as well have given
us a larger house. I should like to live in a great stone castle. Go to
the Flounder, and tell him to give us a castle.”
“Ah, Wife,” said the man, “the cottage is quite good enough. Why should
we live in a castle?”
“What!” said the woman; “go at once, the Flounder can always do that.”
“No, Wife,” said the man, “the Flounder has just given us the cottage.
I do not like to go back so soon, it might make him angry.”
“Go,” said the woman, “he can do it quite easily, and will be glad to
do it. Just you go to him.”
The man’s heart grew heavy, and he did not wish to go. He said to
himself, “It is not right,” and yet he went.
And when he came to the sea, the water was quite purple and dark-blue,
and gray and thick, and no longer green and yellow, but it was still
quiet. And he stood there and said:
“_Flounder, Flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, Dame Ilsabil,
Wills not as I’d have her will._”
“Well, what does she want, now?” said the Flounder.
“Alas,” said the man, half scared, “she wants to live in a great stone
castle.”
“Go to it, then, she is standing before the door,” said the Flounder.
Then the man went home, and when he got there, he found a great stone
palace, and his wife was just standing on the steps going in. She took
him by the hand and said, “Come in.”
So he went with her, and in the castle was a great hall paved with
marble, and many servants, who flung wide the doors. The walls were all
bright with beautiful hangings, and in the rooms were chairs and tables
of pure gold. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and all the
rooms and bedrooms had carpets. Food and wine of the very best were
standing on all the tables, so that they nearly broke down beneath it.
Behind the house, too, there was a great courtyard, with stables
for horses and cows, and the very best of carriages. There was a
magnificent large garden, too, with the most beautiful flowers and
fruit-trees, and a park quite half a mile long, in which were stags,
deer, and hares, and everything that could be desired.
“Come,” said the woman, “isn’t that beautiful?”
“Yes, indeed,” said the man, “now let it be; and we will live in this
beautiful castle and be content.”
“We will consider about that,” said the woman, “and sleep upon it;”
thereupon they went to bed.
Next morning, the wife awoke first. It was just daybreak, and from her
bed she saw the beautiful country lying before her. Her husband was
still stretching himself, so she poked him in the side with her elbow,
and said, “Get up, Husband, and just peep out of the window. Look you,
couldn’t we be the King over all that land? Go to the Flounder, we will
be the King.”
“Ah, Wife,” said the man, “why should we be King? I do not want to be
King.”
“Well,” said the wife, “if you won’t be King, I will. Go to the
Flounder, for I will be King.”
“Ah, Wife,” said the man, “why do you want to be King? I do not like to
say that to him.”
“Why not?” said the woman; “go to him at once. I must be King!”
So the man went, and was quite unhappy because his wife wished to be
King. “It is not right; it is not right,” thought he. He did not wish
to go, but yet he went.
And when he came to the sea, it was quite dark-gray, and the water
heaved up from below, and smelt putrid. Then he went and stood by it,
and said:
“_Flounder, Flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, Dame Ilsabil,
Wills not as I’d have her will._”
“Well, what does she want, now?” said the Flounder.
“Alas,” said the man, “she wants to be King.”
“Go to her; she is King already.”
So the man went, and when he came to the palace, the castle had
become much larger, and had a great tower and magnificent ornaments.
The sentinel was standing before the door, and there were numbers of
soldiers with kettledrums and trumpets. And when he went inside the
house, everything was of real marble and gold, with velvet covers and
great golden tassels. Then the doors of the hall were opened, and there
was the Court in all its splendor, and his wife was sitting on a high
throne of gold and diamonds, with a great crown of gold on her head,
and a sceptre of pure gold and jewels in her hand. On both sides of
her, stood her maids-in-waiting in a row, each of them always one head
shorter than the last.
Then he went and stood before her, and said, “Ah, Wife, and now you are
King.”
“Yes,” said the woman, “now I am King.”
So he stood and looked at her, and when he had looked at her thus for
some time, he said, “And now that you are King, let all else be, we
will wish for nothing more.”
“Nay, Husband,” said the woman, quite anxiously, “I find time pass
very heavily, I can bear it no longer. Go to the Flounder--I am King,
but I must be Emperor, too.”
“Alas, Wife, why do you wish to be Emperor?”
“Husband,” said she, “go to the Flounder. I will be Emperor.”
“Alas, Wife,” said the man, “he cannot make you Emperor. I may not say
that to the fish. There is only one Emperor in the land. An Emperor,
the Flounder cannot make you! I assure you he cannot.”
“What!” said the woman, “I am the King, and you are nothing but my
husband. Will you go this moment? go at once! If he can make a King, he
can make an Emperor. I will be Emperor. Go instantly.”