Retold by Joseph Jacobs

Once upon a time there was a Wood-cutter and his wife who had seven

children, all boys. The eldest was only ten years old. They were very

poor, and their seven children were a great burden, since not one of

them was able to earn his living.

What troubled them still more was the fact that the youngest was not

only very delicate, but silent, which they took for stupidity, but

which was really a mark of his good sense. He was very small, and when

he was born he was scarcely bigger than one’s thumb, which caused him

to be called little “Hop-o’-My-Thumb.” This poor child was the

scapegoat of the house, and was blamed for everything. He was, however,

sharper and wiser than all his brothers, and though he spoke little, he

listened a great deal.

At last there came a bad year, and so great a famine, that the poor

people resolved to rid themselves of their children. One evening, when

the children were all in bed, and the Wood-cutter with a sorrowful

heart, was sitting by the fire with his wife, he said to her: “You know

that we can no longer support our children. I cannot let them die of

hunger before my eyes, and I am resolved to take them to the wood

to-morrow, and lose them. It will be easy to do this, for, while they

amuse themselves tying my sticks, we have only to slip away without

their seeing us.”

“Ah!” cried his Wife, “would you then destroy your children?” In vain

did her husband set forth to her their great poverty: she would not

consent. She was poor, she said. But she was their mother. At last,

having considered what a grief it would be to her to have them die of

hunger before her eyes, she agreed to her husband’s plan, and went,

weeping, to bed.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb had listened to all that they had said, for having

heard them, from his bed, talking of family matters, he had risen

softly and slipped under his father’s stool, in order to hear without

being seen. He then went back to bed, but lay awake the rest of the

night, thinking what he should do. He rose early and went to a brook,

where he filled his pocket with little white pebbles, and then returned

to the house.

Soon after, they all set off, but Hop-o’-My-Thumb did not tell his

brothers anything of what he knew. They went into a forest, so thick

that they could not see each other at a distance of ten paces. The

Wood-cutter began to fell a tree, while the children gathered sticks to

make up into bundles. The father and mother, seeing them thus employed,

slipped away unnoticed, and then fled rapidly, by a little winding

path.

When the children found they were alone, they began to scream and cry

with all their strength. Hop-o’-My-Thumb let them cry, knowing well how

to get home; for, while walking, he had dropped along the path the

little white pebbles which he had in his pockets.

He therefore said to them, “Fear not, brothers, my father and mother

have left us here, but I will lead you to the house only follow me.”

They obeyed at once, and he led them home along the same path by which

they had come into the forest at first. They did not dare to go into

the house, but placed themselves near the door, in order to hear what

their father and mother were saying.

Now it had so happened that, just as the Woodcutter and his Wife

reached home, the lord of the village had sent them ten crowns, which

he had long owed them, and which they had never hoped to obtain. This

gave them new life, for the poor creatures were almost dead from

hunger.

The Wood-cutter immediately sent his Wife to the butcher’s, where, as

it was long since they had eaten anything, she bought three times as

much meat as was needed for the supper of two people.

When they were seated at table, the Wife said, “Alas! where now are our

poor children? They would make good cheer with what we have left. But

it is you who wished to lose them. I always said we should repent it.

What are they doing now in the forest? Alas! alas! perhaps the wolves

have already eaten them! You were most cruel thus to lose your

children.”

The Wood-cutter at last grew impatient, for she repeated more than

twenty times that they would repent what they had done, and that she

had told him so. He threatened to beat her if she was not silent. The

Wood-cutter did not do this because he was less sorry than his Wife,

but because her reproaches angered him. His Wife now shed tears, and

cried out, “Alas! where are my children, my poor children?”

She said this so loud that the children, who were at the door, heard

her, and all cried out together, “Here we are! here we are!”

She ran quickly to open the door, and said, as she embraced them, “How

overjoyed I am to see you again, my darling children! you must be very

tired and very hungry; and you, Peter, how muddy you are! come, let me

brush you.” Peter was her eldest son, whom she loved more than all the

others.

The children then sat down at the table, and ate with an appetite which

delighted their father and mother, to whom they described, all speaking

at once, how frightened they had been in the forest.

These good people were filled with joy to have their children with them

again, and this joy lasted as long as the ten crowns held out. But when

the money was spent, they fell back into their former misery, and

resolved to lose them once more; and in order not to fail again, they

determined to take them much further into the forest than the first

time.

They could not, however, speak of this so secretly but that they were

overheard by Hop-o’-My-Thumb, who laid his plans to escape as before.

Although he got up early in order to go out and pick up some little

stones, he could not succeed in his purpose, for he found the door of

the house shut and double-bolted. He was wondering what he should do,

when, his mother having given them each a bit of bread for breakfast,

he thought that he might use his bread instead of pebbles by dropping

crumbs along the paths as they walked. He therefore slipped the bread

into his pocket.

Their father and mother led them this time into the thickest and

darkest part of the forest, and, as soon as they were there, ran away

and left them.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb was not much troubled, because he believed he could

easily find his way by means of the bread which he had scattered as he

passed along. What was his surprise when he could not find a single

crumb: the birds had come and eaten it all.

Now was their lot indeed wretched; the more they wandered about, the

deeper they buried themselves in the forest. Night came, and a great

wind arose which frightened them terribly. They thought they heard on

all sides the howling of hungry wolves coming to eat them up. They did

not dare to speak, or even turn their heads. Rain began to fall, which

wet them to the skin. They slipped at every step, and, if they fell,

got up so covered with mud that they could hardly move their hands.

Finally, Hop-o’-My-Thumb climbed to the top of a tree, to see if he

could not discover something. Having looked on all sides, he at last

saw a little gleam of light, like that from a candle, but it was very

far off, beyond the forest. He got down from the tree: but when he was

on the ground he no longer saw anything, which troubled him greatly.

However, having walked for some time with his brothers in the direction

where he had seen the light, he again saw it as they came out of the

wood. At last they reached the house where the candle was, though not

without many alarms, for they lost sight of it whenever they descended

unto a hollow place.

They knocked at the door, which was opened to them by a woman. She

asked them what they wanted. Hop-o’-My-Thumb replied that they were

poor children who had lost themselves in the forest, and who asked, for

charity’s sake, a place to sleep.

The woman, seeing how bitter they were, began to weep, and said to

them, “Alas! my poor children, whence do you come? Do you not know that

this is the house of an Ogre, who eats little children?”

“Alas, madam,” said Hop-o’-My-Thumb, who like his brothers was shaking

with fear, “what shall we do? The wolves of the forest will certainly

devour us to-night, if you will not give us shelter. This being the

case, we had rather be eaten by the Ogre, and he, perhaps, will take

pity on us, if you will beg him to do so.”

The Ogre’s wife, who thought she might be able to conceal them from her

husband till the next morning, let them come in, and placed them near a

good fire, where a whole sheep was roasting for the Ogre’s supper.

When they had begun to get warm, they heard three or four heavy knocks

at the door. It was the Ogre. His wife hastily hid the children under

the bed, and then opened the door.

The Ogre asked first if supper was ready, and the wine drawn; and then

sat down at the table. The mutton was nearly raw, but he liked it all

the better on that account.

He then began to sniff about, saying that he smelled fresh meat.

“It must be this calf which I have just been dressing that you smell,”

said the wife.

“I smell fresh meat, I tell you again,” said the Ogre, looking fiercely

at his wife; “and there is something more of which I do not know.”

Saying these words, he rose from the table and went straight to the

bed, where he found the poor children.

“Ah!” said he, “this, then, is the way you wish to deceive me, wicked

woman. I know not what prevents me from eating you, too. Here is game,

which comes to me very conveniently to treat three Ogres of my

acquaintance, who are coming to visit me about this time.”

He then drew the little boys from under the bed, one after another. The

poor children threw themselves on their knees begging for pardon. But

they had to do with the most cruel of all the Ogres, who, far from

having pity, devoured them already with his eyes, and said to his wife

that they would be delicious morsels fried, when she had made a good

sauce for them.

He took out a great knife, and, approaching the poor children, began to

sharpen it on a long stone, which he held in his left hand. He then

seized one of them, when his wife said to him, “Why do you begin at

this time of night? Shall you not have time to-morrow?”

“Be silent,” replied the Ogre; “they will be more tender if I kill them

now.”

“But you have already so much meat on hand,” replied his wife. “Here

are a calf, two sheep, and half a pig.”

“You are right,” said the Ogre; “give them a good supper, that they may

not grow thin, and put them to bed.”

The good woman was overcome with joy, and brought them their supper at

once; but they were too frightened to eat.

As for the Ogre, he set himself to drinking, delighted to have

something with which to regale his friends. He drank a dozen cups more

than usual, which went to his head, and obliged him to go early to bed.

Now this Ogre had seven daughters, who were still only children. These

little Ogresses all had beautiful complexions, for they ate fresh meat

like their father. They had little round gray eyes, crooked noses, and

great mouths filled with long teeth, very sharp and far apart. They

were not yet very wicked, but they promised well, for they already bit

little children whenever they got the chance. They had been put to bed

early, and were all seven in one bed, each having a golden crown on her

head.

There was in the same room another bed of the same size. Here it was

that the Ogre’s wife put the seven little boys, after which she went

to bed in her own chamber.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb, who had remarked that the Ogre’s daughters had golden

crowns on their heads, was afraid that the Ogre might regret not having

killed him and his brothers that evening. So he rose about the middle

of the night, and, taking his nightcap and those of his brothers, he

went very softly and placed them on the heads of the Ogre’s seven

daughters, after having removed their golden crowns. He then put the

crowns on his brothers’ heads and on his own, so that the Ogre might

mistake them for his daughters, and his daughters for the boys whom he

wished to kill.

The plan succeeded as he had expected. The Ogre, having awakened about

midnight, was sorry that he had put off till next day what he might

have done that evening. He jumped quickly out of bed, and, taking his

great knife, “Let us see,” said he, “how our little friends are getting

on.”

He went on tiptoe to the room of his daughters, and approached the bed

where the little boys were all asleep, except Hop-o’-My-Thumb, who was

terribly frightened when he felt the Ogre’s hand touching his head, as

he had already touched his brothers’. But when the Ogre felt the golden

crowns, he said, “Indeed, I was near making a nice piece of work of it.

I see that I drank too much in the evening.”

He then went to the bed of his daughters, where he felt the boys’

little nightcaps. “Ah! here they are,” said he, “the fine fellows! I

must go boldly to work.” Saying these words, and without hesitating, he

cut the throats of his seven daughters. Very well pleased with his

expedition, he went back to bed. As soon as Hop-o’-My-Thumb heard the

Ogre snoring, he awakened his brothers, and told them to dress

themselves quickly and follow him. They went softly down unto the

garden, and leaped over the walls. They hurried away, and ran almost

all night, without knowing whither they went.

The Ogre, when he woke up, said to his wife, “Go upstairs and dress

those little fellows who were here last night.”

The Ogress was very much astonished at the kindness of her husband, not

suspecting for a moment the way in which he meant that she should dress

them. Believing that he simply wished her to put on their clothes, she

went upstairs, where she was amazed to see her seven daughters with

their throats cut. She was so overcome that she immediately fainted.

The Ogre, thinking his wife was too slow, went upstairs to assist her.

He was no less astonished than his wife when the frightful sight met

his eyes.

“Ah! what have I done here?” he cried; “but those little wretches shall

pay for this, and at once.”

He then threw a bucket of water into his wife’s face, and, having

revived her, said, “Give me quickly my seven-league boots, that I may

go after those boys and catch them.”

He then started out into the country at once, and, having rushed about

in all directions, came at last to the road where the poor children

were walking, and then not more than a hundred steps from their

father’s house. They saw the Ogre striding from mountain to mountain,

and crossing rivers as if they were little brooks.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb, who saw a hollow rock near the place where they were,

hid himself and his six brothers there, and watched carefully what

became of their enemy. The Ogre, who was very tired with his long and

fruitless journey, wished to rest himself, and sat down, by chance, on

the very rock where the little boys were hidden.

As he was overcome with fatigue, he soon fell asleep, and began to

snore so frightfully that the poor children were as much frightened as

when he held his knife ready to cut their throats. Hop-o’-My-Thumb was

less afraid, and told his brothers to run into the house while the Ogre

slept, and not to worry about him. They followed his counsel, and

quickly reached the house.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb then approached the Ogre, softly drew off his boots,

and put them on himself. The boots were very long and very large; but,

as they were fairy boots, they had the gift of becoming larger or

smaller, according to the size of the wearer’s leg. In fact, they

fitted Hop-o’-My-Thumb as if they had been made for him.

He then went straight to the Ogre’s house, where he found his wife

weeping over her daughters.

“Your husband,” said Hop-o’-My-Thumb, “is in great danger, for he has

been taken by a band of robbers, who will kill him if he does not give

them all his gold and silver. Just when they held their knives to his

throat he perceived me, and besought me to come and tell you of the

state in which he was, and to direct you to give me all that he has,

without retaining anything, since otherwise they would slay him without

mercy. As time passed, he wished that I should take his seven-league

boots, as you see, in order to make haste, and also that you might not

think me an impostor.”

The good woman, very much frightened, gave him all she had; for this

Ogre was a good husband, although he did eat little children.

Hop-o’-My-Thumb, being then loaded with all the Ogre’s treasures,

returned to his father’s house, where he was welcomed with great joy

and where they all lived happily ever after.

The Junior Classics, Volume 1: Fairy and wonder tales · 第 198 / 236 题