a sofa, and placing a table before him in such a manner that he could
not get out again; 'sit down, you have had a heavy load to carry; human
heads are not so light--not so light.'
'But, woman,' replied the little boy, 'you talk very strangely; I am,
indeed, tired, but they were cabbage heads I was carrying, and you
bought them of my mother.'
'Why, you know but little about that,' said the old woman laughing, as
she took the lid from the basket and brought out a human head, which
she held by the hair. The little boy was frightened out of his senses
at this; he could not comprehend how it came about; and thinking of his
mother, he said to himself, 'If any one were to hear of these human
heads, my mother would certainly be prosecuted.'
'I must give you some reward now, as you are so good,' muttered the
old woman; 'have patience for a minute, and I will prepare for you a
soup which you will remember all your life.' Having said this, she
whistled again, and immediately there came first some guinea-pigs
dressed like human beings; they had tied round them kitchen-aprons,
fastened by a belt, in which were stuck ladles and carving-knives;
after them came skipping in a number of squirrels that wore large, wide
Turkish trousers, walked upright, and had small caps of green velvet on
their heads. These seemed to be the scullions, for they climbed very
nimbly up the walls and brought down pans and dishes, eggs and butter,
herbs and flour, and carried it to the hearth. The old woman slided
continually to and fro upon her cocoa-nut slippers, and little Jacob
observed that she was bent on cooking something good for him. Now the
fire crackled and blazed up higher, there was a smoking and bubbling
in the saucepan, and a pleasant odour spread over the room, but the old
woman kept running up and down, the squirrels and guinea-pigs after
her, and as often as she passed the hearth she poked her long nose
into the pot. At length it began to boil and hiss, the steam rose from
the pot, and the scum flowed down into the fire. She then took off the
saucepan, and pouring some into a silver basin, gave it to Jacob.
'Now, my dear little son, now,' said she, 'eat this soup, and you will
have in your own person all that you admired so much in me. You shall
moreover become a clever cook, that you may be something at least, but
as for the herb, that you shall never find, because your mother did not
have it in her basket.'
The little boy did not exactly understand what she was saying, but was
the more attentive in eating his soup, which he relished uncommonly.
His mother had cooked various savoury soups, but never any like this.
The flavour of the fine herbs and spice ascended from it, and it was
at the same time very sweet, and very sharp and strong. While he was
sipping the last drops of the delicious soup the guinea-pigs lighted
some Arabian incense, which floated through the room in blue clouds,
which became thicker and thicker, and then descended. The smell of the
incense had a stupefying effect upon the boy; in vain he repeatedly
said to himself that he must return to his mother, for as often as he
endeavoured to rouse himself, as often did he relapse into slumber,
and, at length, actually fell into a profound sleep upon the old
woman's sofa.
Strange dreams came over him while he thus slept. It seemed as if the
old woman was taking off his clothes, and putting on him the skin of
a squirrel. Now he could make bounds and climb like a squirrel; he
associated with the other squirrels and guinea-pigs, who were all very
polite, decent people, and he did duty in waiting upon the old woman
in his turn like the rest. At first he had to perform the service of
a shoe-black, that is, he had to oil and polish the cocoa-nut shells
which his mistress wore instead of slippers. Having often blacked and
polished shoes at home, he performed his duty well and quickly. After
the lapse of about one year he dreamt again (according to the sequel
of his dream) that he was employed for more delicate work, that is, in
company with some other squirrels, he was set to catch the motes in a
sunbeam, and, when they had caught enough, to sift them through the
finest hair-sieve, as the old woman considered them the nicest food,
and not being able to masticate well for want of teeth, had her bread
prepared of such motes.
At the end of another year he was raised to the rank of one of the
servants who had to collect the water the old woman drank. But you
must not suppose that she had a cistern dug for that purpose, or a tub
placed in the yard to catch the rain-water; she had a much finer plan.
The squirrels, and Jacob with them, had to collect in their hazel-nut
shells the dew from roses, and this was the beverage of the old woman.
The labour of these water-carriers was not a very light one, as she
used to drink a great deal. After another year he was employed in
in-door service, his duty being to clean the floors, and as they were
of glass and showed the least speck, it was not a very easy task. He
and his fellow-servants were obliged to brush the floors, and with
pieces of old cloth tied to their feet dexterously skated about the
rooms. In the fourth year he received an appointment in the kitchen,
which was so honourable an office that one could succeed to it only
after a long probation. Jacob here served from scullion upwards to the
post of first pastrycook, and acquired such an extraordinary skill and
experience in everything relating to the culinary art that often he
could not help wondering at himself; the most difficult things, pies
composed of two hundred different ingredients, soups prepared with all
the herbs of the globe,--all these, and many other things, he learned
to make quickly and efficiently.
Seven years had thus passed away in the service of the old woman when
one day, pulling off her shoes of cocoa-nut, and taking her basket and
crutch in hand in order to go out, she told him to pluck a chicken,
stuff it with herbs, and roast it nice and brown, during her absence.
He did this according to the rules of his art; twisted the chicken's
neck, scalded it in hot water, pulled out the feathers cleverly,
scraped its skin smooth and fine, and then drew it. Next he began
gathering the herbs with which he was to stuff the chicken. Now when he
came to the chamber where these herbs were kept he perceived a small
cupboard in the wall that he had never before noticed, and finding the
door of it half open, he had the curiosity to go near, in order to
see what it contained, when behold! there stood a great many little
baskets in it, from which proceeded a strong pleasant smell. He opened
one of these little baskets, and found in it a herb of a most singular
form and colour; its stalks and leaves were of a bluish green, and it
had a flower of burning red fringed with yellow at the top. He looked
thoughtfully at this flower, and smelled it, when it emitted the same
powerful odour as the soup which the old woman had cooked for him
when he first came there. But the smell was so strong that he began to
sneeze, was obliged to keep sneezing, and at last awoke, sneezing still.
He now found himself upon the old woman's sofa, and looked around him
with astonishment. 'Heavens!' he said to himself, 'how vividly one
may dream; I would almost have sworn that I was a wanton squirrel,--a
companion of guinea-pigs and other animals, but at the same time had
become a great cook. How my mother will laugh when I tell her all
this! But will she not also scold me for falling asleep in a strange
house instead of helping her in the market?' While engaged in these
thoughts he started up to run away; but his limbs were still quite
stiff with sleep, and particularly his neck, for he was unable to
move his head well to and fro. He could not help smiling at himself
and his drowsiness, for every moment, before he was aware, he ran
his nose against a cupboard or the wall, or turning suddenly round,
struck it against a door-post. The squirrels and guinea-pigs crowded
whining around him, as if anxious to accompany him, and he actually
invited them to do so when he was on the threshold, for they were nice
little creatures, but they glided quickly back into the house on their
nutshells, and he only heard them howling at a distance.
As it was a very remote part of the town to which the old woman had
brought him, he could hardly find his way through the narrow streets,
and as, moreover, there was a great crowd of people wherever he went,
he could only account for this by supposing there must be a dwarf
somewhere in the neighbourhood for show, for he heard everywhere cries
of, 'Only look at the ugly dwarf! Where does the dwarf come from? O!
what a long nose he has, and how his head sits between his shoulders,
and look at his brown ugly hands!' At any other time he would probably
have followed the cry, for he was very fond of seeing giants and
dwarfs, and any sort of curious, foreign costume, but now he was
obliged to hurry and get to his mother.
He felt quite weary when he arrived at the market. He found his mother
still sitting there, and she had a tolerable quantity of fruit in the
basket; he could not therefore have been sleeping long, but still it
appeared to him, even at a distance, as if she were very melancholy,
for she did not call to those coming past to buy, but supported her
head on one hand, and on coming closer he thought she looked paler than
usual. He hesitated as to what he should do; and at length mustering
up courage, crept gently behind her, and putting his hand familiarly
upon her arm, asked, 'Dear mother, what's the matter with you? are you
angry with me?'
The woman turned round, but started back with a shriek of terror,
saying, 'What do you want with me, you ugly dwarf? Begone, begone! I do
not like such jokes.'
'But mother, what is the matter with you?' asked Jacob, quite
terrified; 'surely you must be unwell; why will you turn your son away
from you?'
'I have told you already to be gone,' replied Hannah angrily; 'you will
not get any money from me by your juggleries, you ill-favoured monster.'
'Surely God has deprived her of the light of her intellect,' said the
dwarf, deeply grieved within himself; 'what shall I do to get her home?
Dear mother, pray do listen to reason; only look well at me, I am
indeed your son--your own Jacob.'
'Why this is carrying the joke too far,' she said to her neighbour;
'only look at that ugly dwarf; there he stands, and will no doubt drive
away all my customers; nay, he even dares to ridicule my misfortune,
telling me that he is my son, my own Jacob, the impudent fellow.'
At this her neighbours rose, and began abusing him (every one knows
that market women understand this), and reproaching him with making
light of poor Hannah's misfortune, who seven years ago had had her
beautiful boy kidnapped, and with one accord they threatened to fall
upon him and tear him to pieces, unless he took himself off immediately.
Poor Jacob did not know what to make of all this. Indeed it seemed to
him that he had that very morning, as usual, gone to market with his
mother, had helped her to lay out her fruit, and had afterwards gone
with the old woman to her house, eaten some soup, slept a little while,
and had now come back; and yet his mother and her neighbours talked of
seven years, calling him at the same time an ugly dwarf. What then was
the change that had come over him? Seeing, at length, that his mother
would no longer listen to anything he said, he felt the tears come in
his eyes, and went sorrowfully down the street towards the stall where
his father sat in the daytime mending shoes.
'I am curious to see,' he thought to himself, 'whether he, too, will
disown me? I will place myself in the doorway and talk to him.' And
having come there he did so and looked in.
The cobbler was so busily engaged at work that he did not see him; but
happening to cast a look towards the door, he dropped shoe, twine, and
awl on the ground, and cried with astonishment, 'For Heaven's sake,
what is that?'
'Good evening, master' said the little dwarf, stepping inside the
booth. 'How fare you?'
'Badly, badly, my little gentleman,' replied Jacob's father, to his
utter amazement; for he, too, did not seem to recognise him. 'I have to
do all the work myself, for I am alone and now getting old, and yet I
cannot afford to keep a journeyman.'
'But have you no son to assist you in your work?' inquired the dwarf
further.
'Indeed I had one, whose name was Jacob, and he now must be a handsome,
quick lad, twenty years old, who might effectually assist me. Ah! what
a pleasant life I should lead. Even when he was twelve years old he
showed himself quite handy and clever, and understood a great deal
of the business. He was a fine engaging little fellow; he would soon
have brought me plenty of custom, so that I should no longer have been
mending shoes and boots but making new ones. But so goes the world.'
'Where is your son, then?' asked Jacob in a tremulous voice.
'That God only knows,' replied his father. 'Seven years ago, yes! it is
just that now, he was stolen from us in the market-place.'
'Seven years ago, you say?' cried Jacob with astonishment.
'Yes, little gentleman, seven years ago; the circumstance is as fresh
in my memory as if it had happened to-day, how my poor wife came home
weeping and crying, saying that the child had not come back all day,
and that she had inquired and searched everywhere without finding
him. But I always said it would come to that; for Jacob was a pretty
child, no one could help saying so, therefore my poor wife was proud
of him and fond of hearing people praise him, and often sent him with
vegetables and such like to the houses of the gentlefolks. All this was
very well; he always received some present. But said I, mark me, the
town is large, and there are many bad people in it, so take care of
Jacob. But it happened as I said. Once there comes an ugly old woman
to the market, bargains for some fruits and vegetables, and at length
buys so much that she cannot carry it home herself. My wife, kind soul,
sends the lad with her, and--has never seen him again since that hour.'
'And that is now seven years ago?'
'Seven years this spring. We had him cried in the town, we went from
house to house inquiring; many had known and liked the pretty lad, and
searched with us, but all in vain. Neither did any one know the woman
who bought the vegetables; a very aged woman, however, ninety years
old, said, 'it might possibly have been the wicked fairy, Kräuterweis,
who once in fifty years comes to the town to buy various things?'
Thus spoke Jacob's father hastily, hammering at his shoes meanwhile,
and drawing out at great length the twine with both hands. Now by
degrees light broke on the little dwarf, and he saw what had happened
to him, viz., that he had not been dreaming, but had served as a
squirrel seven years with the evil fairy. Rage and sorrow filled his
heart almost to bursting.
The old witch had robbed him of seven years of his youth, and what had
he in exchange? What was it that he could polish slippers of cocoa-nut
shell? that he could clean rooms with glass floors? that he had learned
all the mysteries of cooking from the guinea-pigs? Thus he stood for
some time meditating on his fate, when at length his father asked him--
'Do you want to purchase anything, young gentleman? Perhaps a pair of
new slippers or, peradventure, a case for your nose?' he added, smiling.
'What do you mean about my nose?' asked Jacob; 'why should I want a
case for it?'
'Why,' replied the cobbler, 'every one according to his taste; but I
must tell you that if I had such a terrible nose I should have a case
made for it of rose-coloured morocco. Look here, I have a beautiful
piece that is just the thing; indeed we should at least want a yard for
it. It would then be well guarded, my little gentleman; whereas now
I am sure you will knock it against every door-post and carriage you
would wish to avoid.'
The dwarf was struck dumb with terror; he felt his nose; it was full
two hands long, and thick in proportion. So then the old hag had
likewise changed his person; and hence it was his mother did not know
him, and people called him an ill-favoured dwarf.
'Master,' said he, half crying to the cobbler, 'have you no
looking-glass at hand in which I might behold myself?'
'Young gentleman,' replied his father gravely, 'you have not exactly
been favoured as to appearance so as to make you vain, and you have
no cause to look often in the glass. You had better leave it off
altogether. It is with you a particularly ridiculous habit.'
'Oh! pray let me look in the glass,' cried the dwarf. 'I assure you it
is not from vanity.'
'Leave me in peace, I have none in my possession; my wife has a little
looking-glass, but I do not know where she has hid it. If you really
must look into one,--why then, over the way lives Urban, the barber,
who has a glass twice as big as your head; look in there, and now, good
morning.'
With these words his father pushed him gently out of the stall,
locked the door after him, and sat down again to his work. The little
dwarf, much cast down, went over the way to the barber, whom he well
remembered in former times.
'Good morning, Urban,' said he to him, 'I come to beg a favour of you;
be so kind as to let me look a moment in your looking-glass.'
'With pleasure,' cried the barber laughing; 'there it is,' and his
customers who were about to be shaved laughed heartily with him. 'You
are rather a pretty fellow, slim and genteel; you have a neck like a
swan, hands like a queen, and a turn-up nose, such as one seldom sees
excelled. A little vain you are of it, no doubt; but no matter, look at
yourself; people shall not say that envy prevented me from allowing you
to see yourself in my glass.'
Thus spoke the barber, and a yell of laughter resounded through the
room. In the meantime the dwarf had stepped to the glass and looked at
himself. The tears came in his eyes while saying to himself: 'Yes, dear
mother, thus you could not indeed recognise your Jacob; he did not look
like this in the days of your happiness, when you delighted to show him
off before the people?' His eyes had become little, like those of a
pig; his nose was immense, hanging over his mouth down to his chin; his
neck seemed to have been taken away altogether, for his head sat low
between his shoulders, and it was only with the greatest pain that he
could move it to the right or left; his body was still the same size as
it had been seven years ago, when he was twelve years old, so that he
had grown in width what others do in height between the ages of twelve
and twenty. His back and chest stood out like two short, well-filled
bags; and this thick-set body was supported by small thin legs, which
seemed hardly sufficient to support their burden; but so much the
larger were his arms, which hung down from his body, being of the size
of those of a full-grown man; his hands were coarse, and of a brownish
hue, his fingers long, like spiders' legs, and when he stretched them
to their full extent he could touch the ground without stooping. Such
was little Jacob's appearance, now that he had been turned into an ugly
dwarf. He remembered the morning on which the old woman had stopped
before his mother's baskets. All that he then had found fault with in
her--viz., her long nose and ugly fingers--all these she had given him,
only omitting her long, palsied neck.
'Well, my prince, have you looked enough at yourself now?' said the
barber, stepping up to him, and surveying him with a laugh. 'Truly,
if we wished to dream of such a figure, we could hardly see one so
comical. Nevertheless I will make you a proposition, my little man. My
shaving-room is tolerably well frequented, but yet not so much as I
could wish. That arises from my neighbour, the barber Schaum, having
discovered a giant, who attracts much custom to his house. Now, to
become a giant is no great thing, after all, but to be such a little
man as you is indeed a different thing. Enter my service, little man;
you shall have board and lodging, clothes, and everything; for this you
shall stand in my doorway in the morning, and invite people to come in;
you shall beat the lather, hand the towel to the customers, and you may
be sure that we shall both make it answer; I shall get more customers
through you than my neighbour by his giant, and you will get many
presents.'
The little man felt quite indignant at the proposal of serving as a
decoy to a barber. But was he not obliged to submit patiently to this
insulting offer? He therefore quietly told the barber he had no time
for such services, and went away.
Although the evil hag had thus stunted his growth, yet she had had
no power to affect his mind, as he felt full well; for he no longer
thought and felt as he did seven years since, and believed that he had
become wiser and more sensible in the interval. He did not mourn for
the loss of his beauty, nor for his ugly appearance, but only that he
was driven from his father's door like a dog. However, he resolved to
make another trial with his mother.
He went again to her in the market, and entreated her to listen to him
patiently. He reminded her of the day on which he had gone with the
old woman; he called to her mind all the particular incidents of his
childhood, told her then how he had served seven years as a squirrel
with the fairy, and how she had changed him because he had then
ridiculed her person.
The cobbler's wife did not know what to think of all this. All that
he related of his childhood agreed with her own recollections, but
when he talked of serving seven years as a squirrel she said, 'It is
impossible; there are no fairies;' and when she looked at him she felt
a horror at the ugly dwarf, and would not believe that he could be her
son. At length she thought it would be best to talk the matter over
with her husband; therefore she took up her baskets and bade him go
with her.
On arriving at the cobbler's stall she said: 'Look, this fellow
pretends to be our lost Jacob. He has told me all the circumstances;
how he was stolen from us seven years since, and how he was enchanted
by a fairy.'
'Indeed,' interrupted the cobbler in a rage, 'has he told you this?
wait, you rogue!--I have told him all this an hour ago, and then he
goes to make a fool of you. Enchanted you have been, my little chap,
have you? Wait a bit, I will soon disenchant you!' So saying, he took a
bundle of straps that he had just cut, jumped up towards the dwarf, and
beat him on his humped back and his long arms, making the little fellow
scream with pain and run away crying.
Now in that town, as in others, there were but few of those
compassionate souls who will support a poor unfortunate man who has a
ridiculous appearance. Hence it was that the unlucky dwarf remained
all day without food, and was obliged in the evening to choose for his
night's quarters the steps of a church, though they were hard and cold.
When on the following morning the first rays of the sun awoke him, he
began seriously to think how he should earn his livelihood, now that
his father and mother had repudiated him; he was too proud to serve as
a signboard to a barber; he would not hire himself as a merry-andrew
to be exhibited: what then should he do? It now occurred to him that
as a squirrel he had made considerable progress in the culinary art,
and thought he might justly expect to prove a match for any cook; he
therefore resolved to turn his art to advantage.
As soon, therefore, as the morning had dawned, and the streets became
animated, he entered a church and performed his devotions; then he
proceeded on his way. The duke (the sovereign of the country) was a
notorious _gourmand_, who kept a good table, and sought cooks in all
parts of the world. To his palace the dwarf went. When he arrived at
the outer gate the porter asked his errand, and began to crack his
jokes on him; when he asked for the chief cook they laughed and led
him through the inner courts, and wherever he went the servants stood
still, looked at him, laughed heartily, and followed him, so that in
a short time a great posse of menials of all descriptions crowded up
the steps of the palace. The grooms threw away their curry-combs, the
running footmen ran with all their might, the carpet-spreaders ceased
beating their carpets, all crowded and thronged around him, as though
the enemy were at the gates, and the shouts of 'A dwarf, a dwarf! have
you seen the dwarf?' filled the air.