the miller began to feel at ease. The boy grew up to be a youth and
was apprenticed to a huntsman. When he had learnt everything, and had
become an excellent huntsman, the lord of the village took him into his
service. In the village lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who
pleased the huntsman. When his master perceived that, he gave him a
little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and happily, and
loved each other with all their hearts.
One day, the huntsman was chasing a roe. And when the animal turned
aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued it and at last
shot it. He did not notice that he was now in the neighborhood of the
dangerous mill-pond, and went, after he had disembowelled the stag, to
the water, in order to wash his blood-stained hands.
Scarcely, however, had he dipped them in than the Nix ascended,
smilingly wound her dripping arms around him, and drew him quickly down
under the waves, which closed over him.
When it was evening, and the huntsman did not return home, his wife
grew alarmed. She went out to seek him, and as he had often told her
that he had to be on his guard against the snares of the Nix, and
dared not venture into the neighborhood of the mill-pond, she already
suspected what had happened. She hastened to the water, and when she
found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she could no longer have
any doubt of the misfortune.
Lamenting her sorrow, and wringing her hands, she called on her beloved
by name, but in vain. She hurried across to the other side of the
pond, and called him anew. She reviled the Nix with harsh words, but
no answer followed. The surface of the water remained calm, only the
crescent moon stared steadily back at her. The poor woman did not leave
the pond. With hasty steps, she paced round and round it, without
resting a moment, sometimes in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry,
sometimes softly sobbing. At last her strength came to an end, she sank
down to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep.
Presently a dream took possession of her. She was anxiously climbing
upward between great masses of rock. Thorns and briars caught her feet,
the rain beat in her face, and the wind tossed her long hair about.
When she had reached the summit, quite a different sight presented
itself to her. The sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped gently
downward, and on a green meadow, gay with flowers of every color, stood
a pretty cottage. She went up to it and opened the door. There sat an
Old Woman with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly.
At that very moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned,
and she at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream. She
laboriously climbed the mountain. Everything was exactly as she
had seen it in the night. The Old Woman received her kindly, and
pointed out a chair on which she might sit. “You must have met with a
misfortune,” she said, “since you have sought out my lonely cottage.”
With tears, the woman related what had befallen her.
“Be comforted,” said the Old Woman, “I will help you. Here is a Golden
Comb for you. Tarry till the full moon has risen, then go to the
mill-pond, seat yourself on the shore, and comb your long black hair
with this comb. When you have done, lay it down on the bank, and you
will see what will happen.”
The woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, passed
slowly. At last the shining disc appeared in the heavens, then she went
out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black hair with the
Golden Comb. When she had finished, she laid it down at the water’s
edge.
It was not long before there was a movement in the depths, a wave rose,
rolled to the shore, and bore the comb away with it.
In not more than the time necessary for the comb to sink to the bottom,
the surface of the water parted, and the head of the huntsman arose.
He did not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful glances. At
the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered the man’s
head. All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as before, and
nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it.
[Illustration: SHE COMBED HER LONG BLACK HAIR]
Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed
her the cottage of the Old Woman. Next morning, she again set out and
complained of her woes to the Wise Woman.
The Old Woman gave her a Golden Flute, and said, “Tarry till the full
moon comes again, then take this flute. Play a beautiful air on it, and
when you have finished, lay it on the sand. Then you will see what will
happen.”
The wife did as the old woman told her. No sooner was the flute lying
on the sand, than there was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed
up and bore the flute away with it.
Immediately afterward the water parted, and not only the head of
the man, but half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms
longingly toward her. But a second wave came up, covered him, and drew
him down again.
“Alas, what does it profit me?” said the unhappy woman, “that I should
see my beloved, only to lose him again?”
Despair filled her heart anew, but the dream led her a third time
to the house of the Old Woman. She sat out, and the Wise Woman gave
her a Golden Spinning-Wheel, consoled her and said, “All is not yet
fulfilled, tarry until the time of the full moon. Then take the
spinning-wheel, seat yourself on the shore, and spin the spool full.
When you have done that, place the spinning-wheel near the water, and
you will see what will happen.”
The woman obeyed all she said exactly. As soon as the full moon showed
itself, she carried the Golden Spinning-Wheel to the shore, and spun
industriously until the flax came to an end, and the spool was quite
filled with the threads. No sooner was the wheel standing on the shore
than there was a more violent movement than before in the depths of
the pond, and a mighty wave rushed up, and bore the wheel away with it.
Immediately the head and the whole body of the man rose into the air,
in a water-spout. He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by
the hand and fled.
But they had scarcely gone a very little distance, when the whole pond
rose with a frightful roar, and streamed out over the open country. The
fugitives already saw death before their eyes, when the woman in her
terror implored the help of the Old Woman, and in an instant they were
transformed, she into a Toad, he into a Frog.
The flood which had overtaken them could not destroy them, but it tore
them apart and carried them far away.
When the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again, they
regained their human form, but neither knew where the other was. They
found themselves among strange people, who did not know their native
land. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. In order to
keep themselves alive, they were both obliged to tend sheep.
For many long years, they drove their flocks through field and forest
and were full of sorrow and longing. When spring had once more broken
forth on the earth, one day they both went out with their flocks, and
as chance would have it, they drew near each other. They met in a
valley, but did not recognize each other. Yet they rejoiced that they
were no longer so lonely. Henceforth they every day drove their flocks
to the same place. They did not speak much, but they felt comforted.
One evening when the full moon was shining in the sky, and the sheep
were already at rest, the shepherd pulled the flute out of his pocket,
and played on it a beautiful but sorrowful air. When he had finished,
he saw that the shepherdess was weeping bitterly.
“Why are you weeping?” he asked.
“Alas,” answered she, “thus shone the full moon when I played this air
on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved rose out of
the water.”
He looked at her, and it seemed as if a veil fell from his eyes, and
he recognized his dear wife. And when she looked at him, and the moon
shone in his face she knew him also. They embraced and kissed each
other, and no one need ask if they were happy.
[Illustration]
THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE WOOD
A poor woodcutter lived with his wife and three daughters in a little
hut on the edge of a lonely wood. One morning as he was about to go to
his work, he said to his wife, “Let my dinner be brought into the wood
to me by my eldest daughter, or I shall never get my work done. And in
order that she may not miss her way,” he added, “I will take a bag of
millet with me and strew the seeds on the path.”
When, therefore, the sun was just above the centre of the wood, the
girl set out on her way with a bowl of soup. But the field-sparrows,
and wood-sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked
up the millet long before, and the girl could not find the track. Then
trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and night
began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and
she began to be afraid.
Then in the distance she perceived a light which glimmered between the
trees. “There ought to be some people living there, who can take me in
for the night,” thought she, and went up to the light. It was not long
before she came to a house the windows of which were all lighted up.
She knocked, and a rough voice from the inside cried, “Come in.”
The girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of the
room. “Just come in,” cried the voice.
And when she opened the door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the
table, supporting his face with both hands, and his white beard fell
down over the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three
animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow.
The girl told her story to the Old Man, and begged for shelter for the
night. The man said:
“_Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?_”
“_Duks,_” answered the animals, and that must have meant, “We are
willing,” for the Old Man said, “Here you shall have shelter and food.
Go to the fire, and cook us our supper.”
The girl found in the kitchen abundance of everything and cooked a good
supper, but had no thought of the animals. She carried the full dishes
to the table, seated herself by the gray-haired man, ate and satisfied
her hunger.
When she had had enough, she said, “But now I am tired. Where is there
a bed in which I can lie down, and sleep?” The animals replied:
“_Thou hast eaten with him,
Thou hast drunk with him,
Thou hast had no thought for us,
So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night._”
Then said the Old Man, “Just go up-stairs, and you will find a room
with two beds. Shake them up, and put white linen on them, and then I,
too, will come and lie down to sleep.”
The girl went up, and when she had shaken the beds and put clean sheets
on, she lay down in one of them without waiting any longer for the Old
Man.
After some time, however, the gray-haired man came, took his candle,
looked at the girl and shook his head. When he saw that she had fallen
into a sound sleep, he opened a trap-door, and let her down into the
cellar.
Late at night, the woodcutter came home, and reproached his wife for
leaving him to hunger all day. “It is not my fault,” she replied, “the
girl went out with your dinner, and must have lost herself, but she is
sure to come back to-morrow.”
The woodcutter, however, arose before dawn to go into the wood, and
requested that the second daughter should take him his dinner that day.
“I will take a bag with lentils,” said he; “the seeds are larger than
millet. The girl will see them better, and can’t lose her way.”
At dinner-time, therefore, the girl took out the food, but the lentils
had disappeared. The birds of the wood had picked them up as they had
done the day before, and had left none.
The girl wandered about in the wood until night, and then she too
reached the house of the Old Man, was told to go in, and begged for
food and a bed. The man with the white beard again asked the animals:
“_Pretty little Hen,_
_Pretty little Cock,_
_And pretty brindled Cow,_
_What say ye all now?_”
The animals again replied “_Duks_.” And everything happened just as it
had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank
with the Old Man, and did not concern herself about the animals, and
when she inquired about her bed, they answered:
“_Thou hast eaten with him,_
_Thou hast drunk with him,_
_Thou hast had, no thought for us,_
_So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night._”
When she was asleep the Old Man came, looked at her, shook his head,
and let her down into the cellar.
On the third morning, the woodcutter said to his wife, “Send our
youngest child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good and
obedient, and will stay in the right path, and not run about after
every wild bumblebee, as her sisters did.”
The mother did not want to do it, and said, “Am I to lose my dearest
child, as well?”
“Have no fear,” he replied, “the girl will not go astray; she is too
prudent and sensible. Besides, I will take some peas with me, and strew
them about. They are still larger than lentils, and will show her the
way.”
But when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the wood-pigeons
had already got all the peas in their crops, and she did not know which
way to turn. She was full of sorrow and never ceased to think how
hungry her father would be, and how her good mother would grieve, if
she did not return home.
At length, when it grew dark, she saw the light and came to the house
in the wood. She begged quite prettily to be allowed to spend the night
there. And the man with the white beard once more asked his animals:
“_Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?_”
“_Duks_,” said they. Then the girl went to the stove where the animals
were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked their smooth
feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled cow between her horns.
And when, in obedience to the Old Man’s orders, she had made ready some
good soup, and the bowl was placed upon the table, she said, “Am I to
eat as much as I want, and the good animals to have nothing? Outside is
food in plenty, I will look after them first.”
So she went and brought some barley and strewed it for the cock and
hen, and a whole armful of sweet-smelling hay for the cow. “I hope you
will like it, dear Animals,” said she, “and you shall have a refreshing
draught in case you are thirsty.”
Then she fetched in a bucketful of water, and the cock and hen jumped
on to the edge of it and dipped their beaks in. Then held up their
heads as the birds do when they drink, and the brindled cow also took a
hearty draught.
When the animals were fed, the girl seated herself at the table by the
Old Man, and ate what he had left. It was not long before the cock and
the hen began to thrust their heads beneath their wings, and the eyes
of the cow likewise began to blink. Then said the girl, “Ought we not
to go to bed?”
“_Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?_”
The animals answered “_Duks_.”
“_Thou hast eaten with us,
Thou hast drunk with us,
Thou hast had kind thought for all of us,
We wish thee good-night._”
Then the girl went up-stairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid clean
sheets on them. And when she had done it the Old Man came and lay down
on one of the beds, and his white beard reached down to his feet. The
girl lay down on the other, said her prayers, and fell asleep.
She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise in the
house that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and splitting in
every corner. The doors sprang open, and beat against the walls. The
beams groaned as if they were being torn out of their joints. It seemed
as if the staircase were falling down. And at length there was a crash
as if the entire roof had fallen in.
As, however, all grew quiet once more, and the girl was not hurt, she
stayed quietly lying where she was, and fell asleep again. But when she
woke up in the morning with the brilliancy of the sunshine, what did
her eyes behold?
She was lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with
royal splendor. On the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of
green silk. The bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet, and on
a chair close by, was a pair of shoes embroidered with pearls.
The girl believed that she was in a dream, but three richly clad
attendants came in, and asked what orders she would like to give?
“If you will go,” she replied, “I will get up at once and make ready
some soup for the Old Man, and then I will feed the pretty little hen,
and the cock, and the beautiful brindled cow.”
She thought the Old Man was up already, and looked round at his bed.
He, however, was not lying in it, but a stranger.
And while she was looking at him, and becoming aware that he was young
and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, “I am a King’s Son,
and was enchanted by a wicked Witch, and made to live in this wood, as
an old gray-haired man. No one was allowed to be with me but my three
attendants in the form of a cock, a hen, and a brindled cow. The spell
was not to be broken until a girl came to us, whose heart was so good
that she showed herself full of love, not only toward mankind, but
toward animals--and that you have done, and by you, at midnight, we
were set free, and the old house in the wood was changed back again
into my royal palace.”
And when they had arisen, the King’s Son ordered the three attendants
to set out and fetch the father and mother of the girl to the marriage
feast.
“But where are my two sisters?” inquired the girl.
“I have locked them in the cellar, and to-morrow they shall be led into
the wood, and shall live as servants to a charcoal-burner, until they
have grown kinder, and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.”
[Illustration]
MAID MALEEN
There was once a King who had a son who asked in marriage the daughter
of a mighty King. She was called Maid Maleen, and was very beautiful.
As her father wished to give her to another, the Prince was rejected.
But since they both loved each other with all their hearts, they would
not give each other up, and Maid Maleen said to her father, “I can and
will take no other for my husband.”
Then the King flew into a passion, and ordered a dark tower to be
built, into which no ray of sunlight or moonlight should enter. When
it was finished, he said, “Therein shall you be imprisoned for seven
years, and then I will come and see if your perverse spirit is broken.”
Meat and drink for the seven years were carried into the tower; and
then she and her waiting-woman were led into it and walled up, and
thus cut off from the sky and from the earth. There they sat in the
darkness, and knew not when day or night began. The King’s Son often
went round and round the tower, and called their names, but no sound
from without pierced through the thick walls. What else could they do
but lament and complain?
Meanwhile, the time passed, and by the small amount of food and drink
left they knew that the seven years were coming to an end. They thought
the moment of their deliverance was come. But no stroke of the hammer
was heard, no stone fell out of the wall, and it seemed to Maid Maleen
that her father had forgotten her. As they had food for only a short
time longer, and saw a miserable death awaiting them, Maid Maleen said,
“We must try our last chance, and see if we can break through the wall.”
She took the bread-knife, and picked and bored at the mortar of a
stone, and when she was tired, the waiting-maid took her turn. With
great labor they succeeded in getting out one stone, then a second, and
third. And when three days were over, the first ray of light fell on
their darkness, and at last the opening was so large that they could
look out.
The sky was blue, and a fresh breeze played on their faces; but how
melancholy everything looked all around! Her father’s castle lay
in ruins, the town and the villages were, so far as could be seen,
destroyed by fire, the fields far and wide laid to waste, and no human
being was visible.
When the opening in the wall was large enough for them to slip through,
the waiting-maid sprang down first, and then Maid Maleen followed. But
where were they to go? The enemy had ravaged the whole kingdom, driven
away the King, and slain all the inhabitants. They wandered forth to
seek another country, but nowhere did they find a shelter, or a human
being to give them a mouthful of bread. Their need was so great that
they were forced to appease their hunger with nettle-plants.
When, after long journeying, they came into another country, they tried
to get work everywhere. But wherever they knocked they were turned
away, and no one would have pity on them.
At last they arrived in a large city and went to the royal palace.
There also they were ordered to go away, but at last the cook said that
they might stay in the kitchen and be scullions.
The King’s Son in whose kingdom they were, was, however, the very man
who had been betrothed to Maid Maleen. His father had chosen another
Bride for him, whose face was as ugly as her heart was wicked. The
wedding was fixed, and the girl had already arrived. Because of her
great ugliness, however, she shut herself in her room, and allowed no
one to see her, and Maid Maleen had to take her her meals from the
kitchen.
When the day came for the Bride and the Bridegroom to go to church,
she was ashamed of her ugliness, and afraid that if she showed herself
in the streets, she would be mocked and laughed at by the people. Then
said she to Maid Maleen, “A great piece of luck has befallen you. I
have sprained my foot, and cannot walk through the streets. You shall
put on my wedding-clothes and take my place. A greater honor than that
you cannot have!”
Maid Maleen, however, refused it, and said, “I wish for no honor which
is not suitable for me.”
[Illustration: THE PRINCE TOOK HER BY THE HAND AND LED HER TO CHURCH]
It was in vain, too, that the Bride offered her gold. At last she
said angrily, “If you do not obey me, it shall cost you your life. I
have but to speak the word, and your head will lie at your feet.”
Then she was forced to obey, and put on the Bride’s magnificent clothes
and all her jewels. When she entered the royal hall, every one was
amazed at her great beauty, and the King said to his son, “This is the
Bride whom I have chosen for you, and whom you must lead to church.”
The Bridegroom was astonished, and thought, “She is like my Maid
Maleen, and I should believe that it was she herself, but she has long
been shut up in the tower or dead.”
He took her by the hand and led her to church. On the way was a
nettle-plant, and she said:
“_Nettle-plant, Nettle-plant,
Nettle-plant so small!
What are you doing here,
Alone by the wall?
I have the time known,
When unroasted, unboiled,
I ate thee alone!_”
“What are you saying?” asked the King’s Son.
“Nothing,” she replied, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
He was surprised that she knew about her, but kept silence. When they
came to the foot-plank into the churchyard, she said:
“_Foot-bridge, break not,
I am not the true Bride._”
“What are you saying there?” asked the King’s Son.
“Nothing,” she replied, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
When they came to the church-door, she said once more:
“_Church-door, break not,
I am not the true Bride._”
“What are you saying there?” asked he.
“Ah,” she answered, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
Then he took out a precious chain, put it round her neck, and fastened
the clasp. Thereupon they entered the church, and the priest joined
their hands together before the altar, and married them. He led her
home but she did not speak a single word the whole way.
When they got back to the royal palace, she hurried into the Bride’s
chamber, put off the magnificent clothes and the jewels, dressed
herself in her gray gown, and kept nothing but the jewel on her neck,
which she had received from the Bridegroom.
When the night came, and the Bride was to be led into the apartment of
the King’s Son, she let her veil fall over her face, that he might not
observe the deception.
As soon as every one had gone away, he said to her, “What did you say
to the nettle-plant which was growing by the wayside?”
“To which nettle-plant?” asked she; “I don’t talk to nettle-plants.”
“If you did not do it, then you are not the true Bride,” said he.
So she bethought herself, and said:
“_I must go my maid to see,
Who keeps my secret thoughts for me._”
She went out and sought Maid Maleen. “Girl, what have you been saying
to the nettle?”
“I said nothing but:
“_Nettle-plant, Nettle-plant,
Nettle-plant so small!
What are you doing here,
Alone by the wall?
I have the time known,
When unroasted, unboiled,
I ate thee alone!_”
The Bride ran back into the chamber, and said, “I know now what I said
to the nettle,” and she repeated the words which she had just heard.