have suffered! I should never have got home again from the great wild
forest, if I had not come to an Iron Stove. But I have been forced to
give my word that I will go back to it, set it free, and marry it.”
Then the old King was so terrified that he all but fainted, for he had
only this one daughter. They, therefore, resolved they would send, in
her place, the miller’s daughter, who was very beautiful. They took her
there, gave her a knife, and said she was to scrape at the Iron Stove.
So she scraped at it for four-and-twenty hours, but could not bring off
the least morsel of it.
When day dawned, a voice in the stove said, “It seems to me it is day
outside.”
Then she answered, “It seems so to me too. I fancy I hear the noise of
my father’s mill.”
“So you are a miller’s daughter! Then go your way at once. Let the
King’s Daughter come here.”
She went away at once, and told the old King that the man outside there
would have none of her--he wanted the King’s Daughter.
They, however, still had a swineherd’s daughter, who was even prettier
than the miller’s daughter, and they determined to give her a piece
of gold to go to the Iron Stove, instead of the King’s Daughter. So
she was taken thither, and she also had to scrape for four-and-twenty
hours. She, likewise, made nothing of it.
When day broke, a voice inside the stove cried, “It seems to me it is
day outside!”
Then answered she, “So it seems to me. I fancy I hear my father’s horn
blowing.”
“Then you are a swineherd’s daughter! Go away at once. Tell the King’s
Daughter to come, and tell her all must be done as was promised. And
if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall be ruined, and
destroyed, and not one stone be left standing on another.”
When the King’s Daughter heard that, she began to weep. But now there
was nothing for it but to keep her promise. So she took leave of her
father, put a knife in her pocket, and went forth to the Iron Stove in
the forest.
When she got there, she began to scrape, and the iron gave way, and
when two hours were over, she had already scraped a small hole. Then
she peeped in, and saw a youth so handsome, and so brilliant with gold
and with precious jewels, that her very soul was delighted. Therefore,
she went on scraping, and made the hole so large that he was able to
get out.
Then said he, “You are mine, and I am yours. You are my Bride, and have
released me.”
He wanted to take her away with him to his kingdom, but she entreated
him to let her go once again to her father. The King’s Son allowed her
to do so, but she was not to say more to her father than three words,
and then she was to come back again.
So she went home, but she spoke more than three words, and instantly
the Iron Stove disappeared, and was taken far away over glass mountains
and piercing swords. But the King’s Son was set free, and no longer
shut up in it.
After this, she bade good-bye to her father, took some money with her,
but not much, and went back to the great forest, and looked for the
Iron Stove, but it was nowhere to be found. For nine days she sought
it. Then her hunger grew so great that she did not know what to do, for
she could no longer live.
When it was evening, she seated herself in a small tree, and made up
her mind to spend the night there, as she was afraid of wild beasts.
When midnight drew near, she saw in the distance a small light, and
thought, “Ah, there I may be saved!” She got down from the tree, and
went toward the light, and on the way she prayed. Then she came to a
little old house, and much grass had grown all about it, and a small
heap of wood lay in front of it.
She thought, “Ah, whither have I come!” and peeped in through the
window. But she saw nothing inside but Toads, big and little, except a
table covered with wine and roast meat, while the plates and glasses
were of silver. Then she took courage, and knocked at the door. The fat
Toad cried:
“_Little green Waiting-Maid,
Waiting-Maid with the limping leg,
Little Dog of the limping leg,
Hop hither and thither,
And quickly see who is without!_”
and a small Toad came along and opened the door to her.
[Illustration: THEN THE KING’S DAUGHTER CAME TO A LITTLE HOUSE]
When she entered, they all bade her welcome, and she was forced to
sit down. They asked, “Where have you come from, and whither are you
going?”
Then she related all that had befallen her, and how because she had
disobeyed the order which had been given her not to say more than three
words, the stove, and the King’s Son also, had disappeared, and now she
was seeking him over hill and dale until she found him. At that, the
old fat one said:
“_Little green Waiting-Maid,
Waiting-Maid with the limping leg,
Little Dog of the limping leg,
Hop hither and thither,
And bring me the great box._”
Then the little one went and brought the box. After this they gave her
meat and drink, and took her to a well-made bed, which felt like silk
and velvet. She laid herself therein, in God’s name, and slept.
When morning came she arose, and the old Toad gave her three needles
out of the great box, which she was to take with her; they would be
needed by her, for she had to cross a high Glass Mountain, and go
over three piercing swords and a great lake. If she did all this, she
would get her lover back again. Then she gave her three things, which
she was to take the greatest care of, namely, three large needles, a
plough-wheel, and three nuts.
With these she traveled onwards, and when she came to the Glass
Mountain, which was so slippery, she stuck the three needles first
behind her feet and then before them, and so got over it. And when
she was over it, she hid them in a place which she marked carefully.
After this she came to the three piercing swords, and then she seated
herself on her plough-wheel, and rolled over them. At last she arrived
in front of a great lake, and when she had crossed it, she came to a
large and beautiful castle.
She went in and asked for a place. She knew, however, that the King’s
Son whom she had released from the Iron Stove in the great forest, was
in the castle. Then she was taken as a scullery-maid at low wages. But,
already the King’s Son had another maiden by his side, whom he wanted
to marry, for he thought that she had long been dead.
In the evening, when she had washed up and was done, she felt in her
pocket and found the three nuts which the old Toad had given her. She
cracked one with her teeth, and was going to eat the kernel, when, lo
and behold, there was a stately royal garment in it! But when the Bride
heard of this she came and asked for the dress, and wanted to buy it,
and said, “It is not a dress for a servant-girl.”
She said, no, she would not sell it, but if the Bride would grant her
one thing she should have it, and that was, leave to sleep one night
in her Bridegroom’s chamber. The Bride gave her permission because the
dress was so pretty, and she had never had one like it.
When it was evening, she said to her Bridegroom, “That silly girl will
sleep in your room.”
“If you are willing so am I,” said he.
She, however, gave him a glass of wine in which she had poured a
sleeping-draught. So the Bridegroom and the scullery-maid went to sleep
in the room, and he slept so soundly that she could not waken him.
She wept the whole night and cried, “I set you free when you were in an
Iron Stove in the wild forest. I sought you, and walked over a Glass
Mountain, and three sharp swords, and a great lake before I found you,
and yet you will not hear me!”
The servants sat by the chamber-door, and heard how she thus wept the
whole night through, and in the morning they told it to their lord.
And the next evening, when she had washed up, she opened the second
nut, and a far more beautiful dress was within it. When the Bride
beheld it, she wished to buy that also. But the girl would not take
money, and begged that she might once again sleep in the Bridegroom’s
chamber. The Bride, however, gave him a sleeping-drink, and he slept so
soundly that he could hear nothing.
But the scullery-maid wept the whole night long, and cried, “I set you
free when you were in an Iron Stove in the wild forest. I sought you,
and walked over a Glass Mountain, and over three sharp swords and a
great lake before I found you, and yet you will not hear me!”
The servants sat by the chamber-door and heard her weeping the whole
night through, and in the morning informed their lord of it.
And on the third evening, when she had washed up, she opened the third
nut, and within it was a still more beautiful dress which was stiff
with pure gold.
When the Bride saw that, she wanted to have it, but the maiden gave it
up only on condition that she might for the third time sleep in the
Bridegroom’s apartment. The King’s Son was, However, on his guard, and
threw the sleeping-draught away.
Now, therefore, when she began to weep and to cry, “Dearest Love, I set
you free when you were in the Iron Stove in the terrible wild forest,”
the King’s Son leapt up and said, “You are the true one, you are mine,
and I am yours.”
Thereupon, while it was still night, he got into a carriage with her,
and they took away the false Bride’s clothes so that she could not get
up. When they came to the great lake, they sailed across it, and when
they reached the three sharp-cutting swords they seated themselves on
the plough-wheel, and when they got to the Glass Mountain they thrust
the three needles in it. And so at length they reached the little old
house. But when they went inside that, it was a great castle, and the
Toads were all disenchanted, and were King’s children, and full of
happiness.
Then the wedding was celebrated, and the King’s Son and the Princess
remained in the castle, which was much larger than the castles of their
fathers. But, as the old King grieved at being left alone, they fetched
him away, and brought him to live with them. And they had two Kingdoms,
and lived together happily ever afterward.
_A Mouse did run,_
_The story’s done!_
[Illustration]
SWEET PORRIDGE
There was a poor, good little girl, who lived alone with her mother,
and they had nothing more to eat.
So the child went into the forest, and an Old Woman met her, who knew
of her sorrow, and gave her a Little Pot, which, when she said:
“_Boil, Little Pot, boil!_”
would cook good sweet Porridge. And when she said:
“_Stop, Little Pot, stop!_”
it ceased to cook.
The little girl took the Pot home to her mother. And now they were
freed from their poverty and hunger, and ate sweet Porridge as often as
they liked.
Once on a time, when the little girl had gone out, the mother said:
“_Boil, Little Pot, boil!_”
And it began to cook, and she ate till she was satisfied. Then she
wanted the Pot to stop cooking, but did not know the word.
So it went on cooking, and the Porridge rose over the edge. And still
it cooked on till the kitchen, and the whole house was full, and then
the next house, and then the whole street, just as if it wanted to
satisfy the hunger of the whole world. And there was the greatest
trouble, and no one knew how to stop it. At last, when only a single
house was left, the child came home and just said:
“_Stop, Little Pot, stop!_”
and it stopped cooking.
And whosoever wished to return to the town, had to eat his way back.
[Illustration]
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED
There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of
the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which
bore white and the other red roses. She had two children who were like
the two rose-trees. One was called Snow-White, and the other Rose-Red.
They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children
in the world were, only Snow-White was more quiet and gentle than
Rose-Red. Rose-Red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields
seeking flowers and catching butterflies. But Snow-White sat at home
with her mother, and helped her with the housework, or read to her when
there was nothing to do.
The two children were so fond of each other, that they always held each
other by the hand when they went out together. When Snow-White said,
“We will not leave each other,” Rose-Red answered, “Never so long as we
live.” And their mother would add, “What one has, she must share with
the other.”
They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries. Beasts
never did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little
hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by
their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still
upon the boughs, and sang whatever they knew.
No mishap overtook them. If they stayed too late in the forest, and
night came on, they laid themselves down near one another upon the
moss, and slept until morning. Their mother knew this, and had no worry
on their account.
One day, when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn had
roused them, they saw a beautiful Child in a shining white dress
sitting near their bed. He got up and looked quite kindly at them, but
said nothing and went away into the forest. And when they looked round,
they found that they had been sleeping quite close to a precipice, and
would certainly have fallen into it in the darkness, if they had gone
only a few paces farther. And their mother told them that it must have
been the Angel who watches over good children.
Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother’s little cottage so neat,
that it was a pleasure to look inside it. In the summer, Rose-Red took
care of the house, and every morning laid a wreath of flowers by her
mother’s bed before she awoke, in which was a rose from each tree. In
the winter, Snow-White lit the fire and hung the kettle on the hook.
The kettle was of copper and shone like gold, so brightly was it
polished.
In the evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother said, “Go,
Snow-White, and bolt the door,” and then they sat round the hearth, and
the mother took her spectacles and read aloud out of a large book. The
two girls listened as they sat and span. And close by them lay a lamb
upon the floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a white dove with its
head hidden beneath its wings.
One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together, some one
knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in. The mother said,
“Quick, Rose-Red, open the door, it must be a traveler who is seeking
shelter.”
Rose-Red went and pushed back the bolt, thinking that it was a poor
man, but it was not. It was a Bear that stretched his broad, black head
within the door.
Rose-Red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove
fluttered, and Snow-White hid herself behind her mother’s bed.
But the Bear began to speak and said, “Do not be afraid. I will do you
no harm! I am half-frozen, and only want to warm myself a little beside
you.”
“Poor Bear,” said the mother, “lie down by the fire. Only take care
that you do not burn your coat.” Then she cried, “Snow-White, Rose-Red,
come out, the Bear will do you no harm, he means well.”
So they both came out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came nearer, and
were not afraid of him.
The Bear said, “Here, Children, knock the snow out of my coat a
little;” so they brought the broom and swept the Bear’s hide clean.
And he stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and
comfortably.
It was not long before they grew quite at home, and played tricks with
their clumsy guest. They tugged at his hair with their hands, put their
feet upon his back and rolled him about, or they took a hazel-switch
and beat him, and, when he growled, they laughed. But the Bear took it
all in good part, only when they were too rough he called out, “Leave
me alive, Children:
“_Snowy-white, Rosy-red,_
_Will you beat your lover dead?_”
When it was bedtime, and the others went to sleep, the mother said to
the Bear, “You may lie there by the hearth, and then you will be safe
from the cold and the bad weather.”
As soon as day dawned the two children let him out, and he trotted
across the snow into the forest.
Henceforth the Bear came every evening at the same time, laid himself
down by the hearth, and let the children amuse themselves with him as
much as they liked. They got so used to him, that the doors were never
fastened until their black friend had arrived.
When spring was come and all outside was green, the Bear said one
morning to Snow-White, “Now I must go away, and cannot come back for
the whole summer.”
“Where are you going, then, dear Bear?” asked Snow-White.
“I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the wicked
Dwarfs. In the winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged
to stay below and cannot work their way through. But now, when the sun
has thawed and warmed the earth, they break through it, and come out to
pry and steal. And what once gets into their hands and in their caves,
does not easily see daylight again.”
Snow-White was very sorry for his going away. And as she unbolted the
door for him, and the Bear was hurrying out, he caught against the bolt
and a piece of his hairy coat was torn off. It seemed to Snow-White as
if she saw gold shining through it, but she was not sure about it. The
Bear ran away quickly, and was soon out of sight behind the trees.
A short time afterward, the mother sent her children into the forest
to get fire-wood. There they found a big tree which lay felled on the
ground, and close by the trunk something was jumping backward and
forward in the grass. But they could not make out what it was.
When they came nearer they saw a Dwarf with an old withered face and
a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of the beard was caught in a
crevice of the tree, and the little fellow was jumping backward and
forward like a dog tied to a rope, and did not know what to do.
He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried, “Why do you
stand there? Can you not come here and help me?”
“What are you about there, Little Man?” asked Rose-Red.
“You stupid, prying goose!” answered the Dwarf; “I was going to split
the tree to get a little wood for cooking. The little bit of food that
one of us wants gets burnt up directly with thick logs. We do not
swallow so much as you coarse, greedy folk. I had just driven the wedge
safely in, and everything was going as I wished; but the wretched wood
was too smooth and suddenly sprang asunder, and the tree closed so
quickly that I could not pull out my beautiful white beard. So now it
is tight in, and I cannot get away. And you silly, sleek, milk-faced
things laugh! Ugh! how odious you are!”
The children tried very hard, but they could not pull the beard out, it
was caught too fast.
“I will run and fetch some one,” said Rose-Red.
“You senseless goose!” snarled the Dwarf. “Why should you fetch
some one? You are already two too many for me. Can you not think of
something better?”
“Don’t be impatient,” said Snow-White, “I will help you,” and she
pulled her scissors out of her pocket, and cut off the end of the beard.
As soon as the Dwarf felt himself free, he grabbed a bag which lay
amongst the roots of the tree, and which was full of gold, and lifted
it up, grumbling to himself, “Rude people, to cut off a piece of my
fine beard! Bad luck to you!” and then he swung the bag upon his back,
and went off without even once looking at the children.
Some time after that Snow-White and Rose-Red went to catch a dish of
fish. As they came near the brook, they saw something like a large
grasshopper jumping toward the water, as if it were going to leap in.
They ran to it and found it was the Dwarf.
“Where are you going?” said Rose-Red; “you surely don’t want to go into
the water?”
[Illustration: “DON’T BE IMPATIENT,” SAID SNOW-WHITE, “I WILL HELP YOU”]
“I am not such a fool!” cried the Dwarf; “don’t you see that the
accursed fish wants to pull me in?” The Little Man had been sitting
there fishing, and unluckily the wind had twisted his beard with the
fishing-line. Just then a big fish bit, and the feeble creature had not
strength to pull it out. The fish kept the upper hand and was pulling
the Dwarf toward him. He held on to all the reeds and rushes, but it
was of little good, he was forced to follow the fish, and was in
great danger of being dragged into the water.
The girls came just in time. They held him fast and tried to free his
beard from the line. But all in vain, beard and line were entangled
fast together. Nothing was left but to bring out the scissors and cut
the beard, whereby a small part of it was lost.
When the Dwarf saw that, he screamed out, “Is that civil, you
toadstool, to disfigure one’s face? Was it not enough to clip off the
end of my beard? Now you have cut off the best part of it. I cannot
let myself be seen by my people. I wish you had been made to run the
soles off your shoes!” Then he took out a sack of pearls which lay in
the rushes, and, without saying a word more, he dragged it away and
disappeared behind a stone.
It happened that soon afterward the mother sent the two children to the
town to buy needles and thread, and laces and ribbons. The road led
them across a heath upon which huge pieces of rock lay strewn about.
They now noticed a large bird hovering in the air, flying slowly round
and round above them. It sank lower and lower, and at last settled near
a rock not far off. Directly afterward they heard a loud, piteous cry.
They ran up and saw, with horror, that the eagle had seized their old
acquaintance the Dwarf, and was going to carry him off.
The children, full of pity, at once took tight hold of the Little Man,
and pulled against the eagle so long that at last he let his booty go.
As soon as the Dwarf had recovered from his first fright, he cried
with his shrill voice, “Could you not have done it more carefully! You
dragged at my brown coat, so that it is all torn and full of holes. You
helpless, clumsy creatures!” Then he took up a sack full of precious
stones, and slipped away again under the rock into his hole.
The girls, who by this time were used to his thanklessness, went on
their way and did their business in the town.
As they crossed the heath again on their way home they surprised the
Dwarf, who had emptied out his bag of precious stones in a clean spot,
and had not thought that any one would come there at such a late hour.
The evening sun shone upon the brilliant stones. They glittered and
sparkled with all colors so beautifully, that the children stood still
and looked at them.
“Why do you stand gaping there?” cried the Dwarf, and his ashen-gray
face became copper-red with rage. He was going on with his bad words,
when a loud growling was heard, and a black Bear came trotting toward
them out of the forest. The Dwarf sprang up in a fright, but he could
not get to his cave, for the Bear was already close.
Then in the fear of his heart he cried, “Dear Mr. Bear, spare me! I
will give you all my treasures! Look, the beautiful jewels lying there!
Grant me my life. What do you want with such a slender little fellow
as I? You would not feel me between your teeth. Come, take these two
wicked girls, they are tender morsels for you, fat as young quails. For
mercy’s sake eat them!”
The Bear took no heed of his words, but gave the wicked creature a
single blow with his paw, and he did not move again.
The girls had run away, but the Bear called to them, “Snow-White and
Rose-Red, do not be afraid. Wait, I will come with you.”
Then they knew his voice and waited. And when he came up to them,
suddenly his bear-skin fell off, and he stood there a handsome man,
clothed all in gold.
“I am a King’s Son,” he said, “and I was bewitched by that wicked
Dwarf, who had stolen my treasures. I have had to run about the forest
as a savage bear until I was freed by his death. Now he has got his
well-deserved punishment.”
Snow-White was married to him, and Rose-Red to his brother. They
divided between them the great treasure which the Dwarf had gathered
together in his cave. The old mother lived peacefully and happily with
her children for many years. She took the two rose-trees with her, and
they stood before her window, and every year bore the most beautiful
roses, white and red.
[Illustration]
THE HEDGE-KING
In former days, every sound had its meaning, the birds also had their
own language which every one understood. Now it only sounds like
chirping, screeching, and whistling, and to some, like music without
words.
It came into the birds’ mind, however, that they would no longer be
without a ruler, and would choose one of themselves to be King.
One alone amongst them, the green plover, was opposed to this. He had
lived free and would die free, and anxiously flying hither and thither,
he cried, “Where shall I go? where shall I go?” He retired into a
lonely and unfrequented marsh, and showed himself no more among his
fellows.