Each suitor for the hand of the princess was numbered as he arrived and
had to wait his turn. They waited as patiently as they could, standing
in line closely guarded to prevent the jealous rivals from getting into
a fight with one another.
A crowd of people had gathered in the throne room at the palace to look
on while the princess received her suitors, and as each suitor came in
all the fine phrases he had prepared passed out of his mind. Then the
princess would say: "It doesn't matter. Away with him!"
At last the brother who knew the dictionary by heart appeared, but he
did not know it any longer. The floor creaked, and the ceiling was made
of glass mirrors so that he saw himself standing on his head. At one of
the windows were three reporters and an editor, and each of them was
writing down what was said to publish it in the paper that was sold at
the street corners for a penny. All this was fearful. You couldn't blame
him for feeling nervous.
"It is very hot in here, isn't it?" was the only thing that the brother
who knew the dictionary could think of to say.
"Of course it is," the princess responded. "We are roasting young
chickens for dinner today."
The youth cleared his throat. "Ahem!" There he stood like an idiot. He
was not prepared for such remarks from the princess. How nice it would
be to make a witty response! But he could think of nothing appropriate,
and all he did was to clear his throat again. "Ahem!"
"It doesn't matter," the princess said. "Take him out." And out he had
to go.
Now the other brother entered. "How hot it is here!" he said.
The princess looked as if she thought him tiresome as she responded: "Of
course. We are roasting young chickens today."
"Where do you--um?" the youth stammered, and the reporters wrote down,
"Where do you--um?"
"It doesn't matter," the princess said. "Take him out."
After a while Blockhead Hans had his turn. He rode his goat right into
the room and exclaimed, "Dear me, how awfully hot it is here!"
The princess looked at him and his goat with more interest than she
showed in most of her suitors and said: "Of course! We are roasting
young chickens today."
"That's good," Blockhead Hans commented; "and will you let me roast a
crow with them?"
"Gladly," the princess responded; "but have you anything to roast it in?
I have neither pot nor saucepan to spare."
"That's all right," Blockhead Hans told her. "Here is a dish that will
serve my purpose." And he showed her the wooden shoe and laid the crow
in it.
The princess laughed and said, "If you are going to prepare a dinner you
ought at least to have some soup to go with your crow."
"Very true," he agreed, "and I have it in my pocket." Then he showed her
the mud he was carrying.
"I like you," the princess declared. "You can answer when you are spoken
to. You have something to say. So I will marry you. But do you know that
every word we speak is being recorded and will be in the paper tomorrow.
Over by the window not far from where we are you can see three reporters
and an old editor. None of them understands much and the editor doesn't
understand anything."
At these words the reporters giggled, and each dropped a blot of ink on
the floor.
"Ah! those are great people," Blockhead Hans remarked. "I will give the
editor something to write about."
Then he took a handful of mud from his pocket and threw it smack in the
great man's face.
"That was neatly done!" the princess said--"much better, in fact, than I
could have done it myself."
She and Blockhead Hans were married, and presently he became king and
wore a crown and sat on the throne. At any rate so the newspaper said,
but of course you can't believe all you see in the papers.