eager to show off some of their new dresses they had never had on
before. Sunday at last arrived, and the two elder girls dressed up ever
so much more gorgeously than before. They put on their rings; tied on
many coloured bows; put on red shoes; and rouged their faces. They went
off in great hurry as soon as the bells began. The prince again was
present, and some of his friends with him. The two elder girls tried
their best to look charming: they screwed up their mouths to make them
look small; they piously bent their heads on one side, and kept on
adjusting their ribbons and bows. Whenever the prince, or any of his
friends looked at them they coyly cast down their eyes and played with
their nosegays. The little girl was again left at home; they gave her
three times as much dirty wheat to pick as on the first occasion, and
threatened her that if by the time they came home she did not get it
picked her father would give her a sound thrashing. The pigeons again
came to assist the pretty child, there were three times as many as at
first, and her wheat was again picked in a minute. The little girl
opened the third nut, and, dressed in the golden dress, went to church,
and sat down in her usual place. The congregation was more astounded
than ever; the women and girls jumped up from their seats. They did not
listen to the sermon, but kept staring at the fairy little girl, and
whispered to each other. The prince was determined that the girl must
become his wife, whatever happened; but the fairy-like girl again
slipped away, and the king's servant followed her, until he saw her run
into a house, whereupon he marked it by sticking a gold rose into the
gate-post. The little girl did not notice this. The elder girls came
running home. "If you lived for another thousand years you would not see
such a beauty as we saw to-day. We saw a pretty creature dressed in pure
gold; we don't think there is another in the whole world like her." "I
saw her," said the little girl, laughing; "I climbed on the mulberry
tree and followed her with my eyes from the street corner all the way to
church." "And how about the wheat; is it picked?" "The Lord has helped
me," said the good little child, "as He always will help orphans." The
mulberry tree was cut down the very same afternoon.
In the afternoon the girls did not bring home any more news from church;
they did not inquire any more whether the wheat had been cleaned,
because they noticed that their step-father was very angry with them for
their having shown so much envy against their sister. The poor father
led his little girl to the cottage of a widow who lived at the end of
the village, and who herself had no children. There she was kept for
several weeks on rather scanty food. The prince had not come to church
for several Sundays; but, after the lapse of three months, three weeks,
and three days, at three in the afternoon, three quarters, and three
minutes, he came on foot into the village, where he had seen the pretty
girl. He had only his servant with him. They examined every gate-post,
and at last found the golden rose which the servant had stuck there.
They entered the cottage, wherein they found an old woman seated reading
her prayers. "Is there a girl in this cot?" inquired the prince. "Yes,
your highness," replied the old woman, "there are two, and either of
them is well worthy of a prince's love." "Call them, my old mother, call
them both; my heart will then recognise its choice."
"Here they are my lord and prince," said the mother with a joyful face,
having in about half an hour got her two daughters dressed up as well as
she could. "The choice of my heart is not among them;" said the prince,
sadly, "have you no more daughters, good woman? call also the third if
you value my happiness." "The Lord has not given me any more, these two
are quite enough, you cannot find any prettier or better in the whole
village." "Haven't you got a husband and hasn't he got a daughter?"
asked the prince, in great sorrow. "My husband is dead," said the old
hag, "it is three years since he was put into his grave." "Let us go on
then, my lord and prince," said the servant, "and we shall find her if
it please the Lord." As they passed through the gate the servant took
the golden rose from the crack in the gate-post and threw it to the
winds. The golden rose thereupon quietly floated in the air above the
heads of the prince and his servant. The fortune-seekers followed the
rose, mumbling prayers, till at the end of the village it dropped on the
ground in front of the gate of the last cot. "Let's go in here, my lord
and prince, as our prayer has brought us here." "If the Lord call us,
let us enter, my faithful servant," replied the prince. A cock crowed
just as they stepped across the threshold, and a very poor old woman
greeted the guests. "Have you a daughter, my old mother?" inquired the
prince graciously. "No, my lord; I never had one," said the old woman
sadly. "If not, don't you keep an orphan? The Lord will preserve the
good mother who takes care of the orphan, as well as the orphan." "Yes,
my lord, but she has no dress fit to appear in, and she is not a bit
worthy of your looking at her; she is naughty and does not like work,
and for this reason her step-mother has cast her off. Her father
supplies in secret her daily food." "The Lord will provide for him who
is in need," said the prince. "Call her; never mind how ugly she is, or
how badly she is clad. I like to make orphans happy." After much
pressing the wretch of an old woman at last produced the little girl,
who looked very poor, but was very cleanly dressed; her face was as soft
as dew. The prince recognised at the first glance the beautiful figure
and the charming features.
"I'm not sorry for the trouble I have taken," said the prince, and
embraced the pretty girl. He gave rich presents to the poor woman, and
took his long-sought-for sweetheart with him. On his way home the
servant reminded his master that it would not be the proper thing to
bring the prince's bride home in such a sorry plight. The prince found
his servant's remark correct. They had only to walk about three miles to
reach the frontier of land where the prince's father reigned. They came
to a round lake where they halted, and on its bank stood a large
weeping willow, so they made the girl sit among the branches and
advised her not to leave her place until they returned with the golden
dresses and the royal carriage. Thereupon they left. The little girl had
hidden the three walnuts in her bosom and in order to surprise her
bridegroom she put on her golden dress and thus dressed awaited his
return. No sooner had she finished her toilet than a whole troop of
gipsy women arrived under the tree on which she sat in her golden dress.
The gipsy women at once questioned her, why she sat there? whom she
expected? and where she was going! She, in her innocence, was not afraid
of them, and told them of her descent, narrated them her past
vicissitudes, her present good fortune, and also confided to them that
she was preparing a joke for her royal bridegroom, and showed her
walnuts and her glittering dresses in them. The prettiest of the gipsy
women climbed on the tree and commenced to flatter her. She asked her to
be allowed to see her walnuts, and in one moment, when the girl was off
her guard, pushed her from the tree down into the lake. To the great
amazement of the gipsies the girl transformed herself into a gold duck,
and flew to the centre of the lake, and, alighting on the water, began
to swim. Thereupon the gipsy women began to throw stones at her, which,
however, she evaded by diving under water. The women at last got tired
of throwing stones, and left the gold duck in the lake, and the gipsy
woman among the branches of the weeping willow. The prince arrived at
sunset at the tree where he had left his pretty _fiancée_. When lo! he
discovered the woman in the golden dress. He admired her golden raiment,
and begged her to tell him where she had got her golden dress. The gipsy
told him what the girl had related to her, and asked him his forgiveness
for not having mentioned it when she first saw him at the widow's cot,
and made the prince believe that she had kept silence about it solely
because she wished to find out whether he loved her in her poor dress.
The prince believed every word the gipsy said, and begged her to come
down and sit in his carriage, and to drive home with him to his royal
father's palace. As the prince assisted the gipsy woman down from the
willow, the tanned face of his _fiancée_ looked to him as something most
extraordinary. "You were not so sunburnt, my dear, when I left you; what
made your skin get so discoloured?" "My tender skin got discoloured from
the broiling rays of the sun," replied the wicked soul; "let me get into
the shade and in a few days I shall become pale again." The prince
believed it and bade her sit in his carriage. "I can't leave here until
you shoot that gold duck, I should like to have a bit of it at my
wedding feast," said the false one. The bridegroom and his servants
tried for a long time to hit the golden bird, they wasted a vast amount
of powder and shot; but still the golden duck was unhurt because it
always dived under the water.
The dusky woman looked very much disheartened when she took her seat in
the prince's coach, but he soon revived her spirits by sweet and kind
words, and in a short time they arrived at home. The old king did not at
all like the looks of his future daughter-in-law, but on his son
assuring him that in a few days she would regain her fairy-like beauty
his mind was set at ease. They lived together for several months and the
young wife was still sunburnt, and so the prince gradually got cool
towards her. The gipsy woman noticed this, and in order to revive the
spirits of her royal husband she announced it all over the town and in
the adjacent villages that there would be a great feather-picking, held
henceforth three times a week in the royal palace, and everybody rich
and poor was invited, the queen being glad to see anyone. The golden
duck had flown after the coach when the queen was driven home, and,
having regained her girl-form, entered service not far from the royal
mansion and worked diligently. She too went to the first feather-picking
meeting, and, not saying a word to anyone, sat at the end of the table
and made herself busy. "Well, my dear queen and wife," said the prince,
"tell the good work-people here the pretty story which happened to you
when your envious sisters would not let you go to church. Tell them also
who helped you to clean the wheat." The gipsy did not know anything
about these events; but still commenced to chatter away whatever came
into her head first. She told them, among other things, that she had
crept through the keyhole in the gate, and collected all the girls in
the neighbourhood, with whose help she finished her wheat-cleaning.
"That wasn't so, most gracious queen," said a girl, with a pretty voice,
who was very shabbily dressed but looked very clean; "it was from the
chimney stack, and from the top of the hoarding, and from among the
branches of the mulberry tree, from where the orphan girl did her
peeping. But the poor orphan girl only told an innocent fib. It was the
same girl with whom the prince fell in love, whom her half-sisters had
cast off, for whom the prince searched with his servant, whom he seated
in the willow tree, and whom you pushed into the lake, whom your husband
tried to shoot. That orphan girl is nobody else but myself." The prince
at once recognised his sweetheart. His wife thereupon fainted away. She
soon recovered however.
The king made an example of the gipsy woman for her wicked deed: he had
her quartered, and burnt, and then married the little orphan girl. He
had her stepmother cast into prison, and her two daughters' hair cut,
which he ordered to be burnt and cast to the winds: he also took the
orphan girl's father to his court, and married him to the widow at whose
cot he had found his wife. The poor little orphan girl's and her
father's wedding were celebrated together. There was plenty to eat and
drink, so that even the orphan children had rice to eat. Behind the door
there stood a sack in which the Danube and the Theiss were kept. I too
was among the dancing guests, and had a long spur made of straw on my
boot; somebody pushed me by accident, and my spur knocked a hole in the
sack in which the Danube and Theiss were kept; so the water all ran out
and engulphed me, and washed me ashore, not far from here. If you don't
believe my story, here I am!
THE WISHES.
There were 10,000 wagons rolling along the turnpike road, in each wagon
there were 10,000 casks, in each cask 10,000 bags, in each bag 10,000
poppy seeds, in each poppy seed 10,000 lightnings. May all these
thunderous lightnings strike him who won't listen to my tale, which I
have brought from beyond the Operencian Sea!
There was once, it doesn't matter where: there was once upon a time, a
poor man who had a pretty young wife; they were very fond of each other.
The only thing they had to complain of was their poverty, as neither of
them owned a farthing; it happened, therefore, sometimes, that they
quarrelled a little, and then they always cast it in each other's teeth
that they hadn't got anything to bless themselves with. But still they
loved each other.
One evening the woman came home much earlier than her husband and went
into the kitchen and lighted the fire, although she had nothing to cook.
"I think I can cook a little soup, at least, for my husband. It will be
ready by the time he comes home." But no sooner had she put the kettle
over the fire, and a few logs of wood on the fire in order to make the
water boil quicker, than her husband arrived home and took his seat by
the side of her on the little bench. They warmed themselves by the fire,
as it was late in the autumn and cold. In the neighbouring village, they
had commenced the vintage on that very day. "Do you know the news,
wife?" inquired he. "No, I don't. I've heard nothing; tell me what it
is." "As I was coming from the squire's maize-field, I saw in the dark,
in the distance, a black spot on the road. I couldn't make out what it
was, so I went nearer, and lo! do you know what it was?--A beautiful
little golden carriage, with a pretty little woman inside, and four fine
black dogs harnessed to it." "You're joking," interrupted the wife. "I'm
not, indeed, it's perfectly true. You know how muddy the roads about
here are; it happened that the dogs stuck fast with the carriage and
they couldn't move from the spot; the little woman didn't care to get
out into the mud, as she was afraid of soiling her golden dress. At
first, when I found out what it was, I had a good mind to run away, as I
took her for an evil spirit, but she called out after me and implored me
to help her out of the mud; she promised that no harm should come to me,
but on the contrary she would reward me. So I thought that it would be a
good thing for us if she could help us in our poverty; and with my
assistance the dogs dragged her carriage out of the mud. The woman asked
me whether I was married. I told her I was. And she asked me if I was
rich. I replied, not at all; I didn't think, I said, that there were two
people in our village who were poorer than we. That can be remedied,
replied she. I will fulfil three wishes that your wife may propose. And
she left as suddenly as if dragons had kidnapped her: she was a fairy."
"Well, she made a regular fool of you!"
"That remains to be seen; you must try and wish something, my dear
wife." Thereupon the woman without much thought said: "Well, I should
like to have some sausage, and we could cook it beautifully on this nice
fire." No sooner were the words uttered than a frying-pan came down the
chimney, and in it a sausage of such length that it was long enough to
fence in the whole garden. "This is grand" they both exclaimed together.
"But we must be a little more clever with our next two wishes; how well
we shall be off! I will at once buy two heifers and two horses, as well
as a sucking pig," said the husband. Whereupon he took his pipe from his
hatband, took out his tobacco-pouch, and filled his pipe; then he tried
to light it with a hot cinder, but was so awkward about it that he upset
the frying-pan with the sausage in it. "Good heavens! the sausage; what
on earth are you doing! I wish that sausage would grow on to your nose,"
exclaimed the frightened woman, and tried to snatch the same out of the
fire, but it was too late, as it was already dangling from her husband's
nose down to his toes. "My Lord Creator help me!" shouted the woman.
"You see, you fool, what you've done, there! now the second wish is
gone," said her husband, "what can we do with this thing?" "Can't we get
it off?" said the woman. "Take off the devil! Don't you see that it has
quite grown to my nose; you can't take it off." "Then we must cut it
off," said she, "as we can do nothing else." "I shan't permit it: how
could I allow my body to be cut about? not for all the treasures on
earth; but do you know what we can do, love? there is yet one wish left;
you'd better wish that the sausage go back to the pan, and so all will
be right." But the woman replied, "How about the heifers and the horses,
and how about the sucking pig; how shall we get those?" "Well, I can't
walk about with this ornament, and I'm sure you won't kiss me again with
this sausage dangling from my nose." And so they quarrelled for a long
time, till at last he succeeded in persuading his wife to wish that the
sausage go back to the pan. And thus all three wishes were fulfilled;
and yet they were as poor as ever.
They, however, made a hearty meal of the sausage; and as they came to
the conclusion that it was in consequence of their quarrelling that they
had no heifers, nor horses, nor sucking pig, they agreed to live
thenceforth in harmony together; and they quarrelled no more after this.
They got on much better in the world, and in time they acquired heifers,
horses, and a sucking pig into the bargain, because they were
industrious and thrifty.
THE TWO ORPHANS.
There was once, I know not where, even beyond the Operencian Land, a
village, and at the end of the village a little hovel. Within the
tumble-down walls of this hovel a poor old woman was lying on some
rotting straw, and two children were crying by her side. The elder was a
pretty girl. The younger was her brother, a small boy with auburn hair.
The old mother died. Her cold body was buried by the parish; but, as
none offered themselves to take charge of the two orphans, they left the
place. They went and went, over many a hill and dale, and had already
covered a long distance when Jack felt burning thirst. They found in the
road some turbid water in a rut, at the sight of which the thirsty
little fellow shouted for joy. "My dear sister, I will drink from this
rut." "Don't drink from it," said his thoughtful sister, "or you will
turn into a cart-wheel if you do." Jack sighed, and they went on their
way. They found some bears' tracks in which some stale rain-water was
putrifying. "My dear sister, I'm thirsty, allow me to drink of this
rain-water." "If you drink, my dear brother, you will become a bear."
The little fellow began to cry, but obeyed, and they went on. In the
road they found some footprints of a wolf. Jack again implored his
sister, with tears, and repeated his former request. "Don't drink, my
dear Jack, or else you will become a wolf." Jack, although his tongue
was parched with burning thirst, obeyed, and they continued their walk
quite exhausted. They found the footmarks of a roebuck in the road.
Water clear as crystal shone in them, that invited him to drink. Jack's
feet gave way under him when he reached the water, and, in spite of all
warning, he drank of it with avidity. His sister, seeing her fear
realised, began to cry. The beautiful auburn locks of her brother
suddenly turned to a soft grayish hair, and horns grew behind his ears.
His legs and arms became the four legs of a roedeer, and the pretty
little creature rubbed gently against his sister, who stroked him with
her pretty hands. The little girl and her brother, the roebuck,
continued their journey till at last they reached the king's palace,
where the young monarch received them with smiles, and offered them a
tidy little room. The little girl lived with her brother here, and,
although she forbade him to speak before others, they would chat when
left alone, their conversation turning mainly upon their deceased good
mother, their journey, the handsome young king, and his frequent hunts.
After several weeks the pretty girl received a royal splendid dress and
was married to the young king.
The fame of their wedding travelled over seven countries. The loving
couple lived contentedly together; the queen was pretty and good, and
her husband was madly in love with her. The little deer kept continually
by his sister's side; they ate from the same plate, and drank out of the
same glass, and slept in the same room; but this happiness did not last
long. There lived in the king's country an old witch, with iron teeth,
who had a very ugly daughter, whose face was black, her eyes were
yellow, her nose was full of warts, her teeth like hoes, her voice
screeching, her waist crooked; and, besides all this, she was lame of
one foot. It was the old witch's determination to make this creature the
queen of the realm. As she was frustrated in her design she raved. In
her fury she tore up bits of rocks, and dried up whole forests. She
vowed death upon the poor orphan's head; and, in order to cheer up her
ugly daughter's long forlorn hope, she prophecied the queen's death, and
thus spoke: "Dear child, beloved Lucinda, would you like to be a queen?
if so, go secretly into the king's palace, and when the king is out
hunting, steal near the queen in her sleep, and cut off a large lock of
her hair, and bring it to me. Mind where you step, and keep an eye on
every movement of hers." Lucinda dressed herself in a cloak with grey
and red stripes, and at dead of night she reached the king's palace, and
without arousing suspicion stole into the queen's bedroom. She spread
her cloak on the floor, so that she might not awake the sleeping queen
with its rustling as she moved about, and at her mother's sign she
approached the queen's bed on tiptoe, and cut off a beautiful lock with
a rusty old knife: the little deer did not wake. In the morning, the
witch wrapt the beautiful auburn lock in the lungs of a toad, and
roasted it over the embers of some yew boughs which were cut on
Christmas night. After a while, with the ointment thus made, the old
witch rubbed Lucinda from head to foot, who became the next moment an
exact likeness of the young queen. Now the old witch began to ponder how
to do away with the young queen, and at last she hit upon a plan. There
lived at court a miserly gate-keeper, whom she bribed with gold, and
with his assistance, in the absence of the king, they broke into the
queen's bedroom at night, and dragged away by force the poor innocent
woman; the little deer woke at the noise, and followed the murderers at
a distance.
In a secluded corner of the courtyard there was an old disused
stone-well, and in this well lived a huge whale; they threw the pretty
queen to the bottom of this well, and in her now empty bed Lucinda was
placed, whose outer appearance was not in the slightest different from
that of the queen, so that when the king arrived at home he did not
notice the awful fraud. The little deer henceforward spent all his days
near the well, which circumstance did not escape the notice of the
quick-eyed old witch. So she instructed her daughter to persuade her
royal husband to have the deer killed, and in order to carry this out,
she planned the following scheme. Lucinda shammed deadly illness, her
mother having previously changed her red complexion to yellow; her
husband sat every day and night by her bedside, while the little deer
still spent all his time by the well. They could not find any medicine
which could give the patient relief, when Lucinda, as planned
beforehand, expressed a desire to have the deer's heart and liver cooked
for her. Her husband was horrified on hearing this unexpected wish, and
began to suspect his wife. He could not believe that she could wish to
have her dear little animal, which she idolized, killed; but Lucinda
would not give in, until at last the king, being very much concerned
about his wife's recovery, allowed himself to be persuaded, and gave
orders to one of his cooks to have the deer killed. The deer heard quite
well what Lucinda wished and what the orders were, but kept silence;
and, in order not to arouse suspicion, went back to its favourite place,
the well, where, in its deep grief, it thus spoke down into the whale's
dwelling:
My little sister, my little sister,
You dear little sister,
Come out of the well,
Out of the whale's stomach,
Because they are whetting the knife
For my gentle breast,
They are washing the basin
For my beautiful red blood.