There was a princess who was as pretty as a picture, and she was so
proud of that that she would not so much as look at a body; all the
same, there was no lack of lads who came a-wooing, and who would have
liked nothing so much as to have had her for a sweetheart because she
was so good-looking. But, no, she would have nothing to do with any of
them; this one was too young and that one was too old; this one was too
lean and that one was too fat; this one was too little and that one was
too big; this one was too dark and that one was too fair. So there was
never a white sheep in the whole flock, as one might say.
Now there was one came who was a king in his own country, and a fine one
at that. The only blemish about him was a mole on his chin; apart from
that he was as fresh as milk and rose leaves.
But when the princess saw him she burst out laughing; “Who would choose
a specked apple from the basket?” said she; and that was all the cake
the prince bought at that shop, for off he was packed.
But he was not for giving up, not he; he went and dressed himself up in
rags and tatters; then back he came again, and not a soul knew him.
Rap! tap! rap!—he knocked at the door, and did they want a stout lad
about the place?
Well, yes; they were wanting a gooseherd, and if he liked the place he
might have it.
Oh, that fitted his wants like a silk stocking, and the next day he
drove the geese up on the hill back of the king’s house, so that they
might eat grass where it was fresh and green. By and by he took a golden
ball out of his pocket and began tossing it up and catching it, and as
he played with it the sun shone on it so that it dazzled one’s eyes to
look at it.
The princess sat at her window, and it was not long before she saw it, I
can tell you. Dear, dear, but it was a pretty one, the golden ball. The
princess would like to have such a plaything, that she would; so she
sent one of the maids out to ask whether the gooseherd had a mind to
sell it.
Oh, yes, it was for sale, and cheap at that; the princess should have it
for the kerchief which she wore about her neck.
Prut! but the lad was a saucy one; that was what the princess said. But,
after all, a kerchief was only a kerchief; fetch the gooseherd over and
she would give it to him, for she wanted the pretty golden ball for her
own, and she would have it if it were to be had.
But, no; the gooseherd would not come at the princess’s bidding. If she
wanted to buy the golden ball she must come up on the hill and pay him,
for he was not going to leave his flock of geese, and have them waddling
into the garden perhaps; that is what the gooseherd said. So the upshot
of the matter was that the princess went out with her women, and gave
the lad the kerchief up on the hill behind the hedge, and brought back
the golden ball with her for her own.
As for the gooseherd he just tied the kerchief around his arm so that
everybody might see it; and all the folks said, “Hi! that is the
princess’s kerchief.”
The next day, when he drove his flock of geese up on the hill, he took a
silver looking-glass and a golden comb out of his pocket and began to
comb his hair, and you should have seen how the one and the other
glistened in the sun.
It took the princess no longer to see the comb and the looking-glass
than it had the golden ball, and then she must and would have them. So
she sent one to find whether the lad was of a mind to sell them, for she
thought that she had never seen anything so pretty in all of her life
before.
[Illustration: The Royal gooseherd playeth with the golden ball.]
“Yes,” said he, “I will sell them, but the princess must come up on the
hill back of the hedge and give me the necklace she wears about her
neck.”
The princess made a sour enough face at this, but, as the gooseherd
would take nothing more nor less than what he had said, she and her
maids had to tuck up their dresses and go up on the hill; there she paid
him his price, and brought home the silver looking-glass and the golden
comb.
The lad clasped the necklace about his throat, and, dear, dear, how all
the folks did goggle and stare. “See,” said they, “the princess has been
giving the gooseherd the necklace from about her own throat.”
The third day it was a new thing the gooseherd had, for he brought out a
musical box with figures on it, dressed up, and looking for all the
world like real little men and women. He turned the handle, and when the
music played it was sweeter than drops of honey. And all the while the
little men and women bowed to one another and went through with a dance,
for all the world as though they knew what they were about, and were
doing it with their own wits.
Good gracious! how the princess did wonder at the pretty musical box!
She must and would have it at any price; but this time it was
five-and-twenty kisses that the lad was wanting for his musical box, and
he would take nothing more nor less than just that much for it.
Moreover, she would have to come up on the hillside and give them to
him, for he could not leave his geese even for five-and-twenty kisses.
But you should have seen what a stew the princess was in at this!
Five-and-twenty kisses, indeed! And did the fellow think that it was for
the likes of her to be kissing a poor gooseherd? He might keep his
musical box if that was the price he asked for it; that was what she
said.
As for the lad, he just played the music and played the music, and the
more the princess heard and saw the more she wanted it. “After all,”
said she, at last, “a kiss is only a kiss, and I will be none the poorer
for giving one or two of them; I’ll just let him have them, since he
will take nothing else.” So off she marched, with all of her maidens, to
pay the gooseherd his price, though it was a sour face she made of it,
and that is the truth.
Now, somebody had been buzzing in the king’s ear, and had told him that
the gooseherd over yonder was wearing the princess’s kerchief and her
golden necklace, and folks said she had given them to him of her own
free will.
[Illustration: The King peeps over the hedge and sees what is going on
upon the other side.]
“What!” says the king, “is that so? her kerchief! golden necklace! we
will have to look into this business.” So off he marched, with his
little dog at his heels, to find out what he could about it. Up the hill
he went to where the gooseherd watched his flock; and when he came near
the hedge where the kissing was going on, he heard them
counting—“Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—” and he wondered what in
the world they were all about. So he just peeped over the bushes, and
there he saw the whole business.
Mercy on us! what a rage he was in! So; the princess would turn up her
nose at folks as good as herself, would she? And here she was kissing
the gooseherd back of the hedge. If he was the kind she liked she should
have him for good and all.
So the minister was called in, and the princess and the gooseherd were
married then and there, and that was the end of the business. Then off
they were packed to shift for themselves in the wide world, for they
were not to live at the king’s castle, and that was the long and the
short of it.
But the lad did nothing but grumble and growl, and seemed as sore over
his bargain as though he had been trying to trick a Jew. What did he
want with a lass for a wife who could neither brew nor bake nor boil
blue beans? That is what he said. All the same, they were hitched to the
same plough, and there was nothing for it but to pull together the best
they could. So off they packed, and the poor princess trudged after him
and carried his bundle.
So they went on until they came to a poor, mean little hut. There she
had to take off her fine clothes and put on rags and tatters; and that
was the way she came home.
“Well,” said the gooseherd one day, “it’s not the good end of the
bargain that I have had in marrying; all the same, one must make the
best one can of a crooked stick when there is none other to be cut in
the hedge. It is little or nothing you are fit for; but here is a basket
of eggs, and you shall take them to the market and sell them.”
So off the poor princess went to the great town, and stood in the corner
of the market with her eggs. By and by there came along a tipsy
countryman—tramp! tramp! tramp! As for the basket of eggs, he minded
them no more than so many green apples. Smash! and there they lay on the
ground, and were fit for nothing but to patch broken promises, as we say
in our town.
Then how the poor princess did wring her hands and cry and cry, for she
was afraid to go home to her husband, because of the hard words he would
be sure to fling at her. All the same, there was no other place for her
to go; so back she went.
[Illustration: The Princess taketh her eggs to the market.]
“There!” said he, “I always knew that you were good for nothing but to
look at, and now I am more sure of it than ever. The china pitcher was
never fit to send to the well, and it was a rainy day for me when I
married such a left-handed wife;” that was what the gooseherd said. All
the same, the princess should try again; this time she should take a
basket of apples to the market to sell; for whatever happened she could
not break them; so off she went again.
Well, by and by came a fellow driving swine, and there sat the princess
in the way; that was bad luck for her, for over tumbled the basket, and
the apples went rolling all about the street. When the drove had passed
there was not a single apple to be seen, for the pigs had eaten every
one of them. So there was nothing for the princess but to go home
crying, with her apron to her eyes.
“Yes, yes,” said the gooseherd, “it is as plain as reading and writing
and the nose on your face that you are just fit for nothing at all! All
the same, we’ll make one more try to mend the crack in your luck. The
king up in the castle yonder is married and is going to give a grand
feast. They are wanting a body in the kitchen to draw the water and chop
the wood; and you shall go and try your hand at that; and see, here is a
basket; you shall take it along and bring home the kitchen scrapings for
supper.”
So off went the princess to the castle kitchen, and there she drew the
water and chopped the wood for the cook. After her work was done she
begged so prettily for the kitchen scrapings that the cook filled her
basket full of the leavings from the pots and the pans, for they were
about having a grand dinner up-stairs and the king was going to bring
home his wife that day.
By and by it was time for her to be going home, so she picked up her
basket and off she went. Just outside stood two tall soldiers. “Halt!”
said they. And was she the lass who had been chopping the wood and
drawing the water for the cook that day? Yes? Then she must go along
with them, for she was wanted up-stairs. No; it did no good for her to
beg and to pray and to cry and to wring her hands, and it mattered
nothing if her good man was waiting for her at home. She had been sent
for, and she must go, willy-nilly. So she had only just time to fling
her apron over her basket of kitchen scrapings, and off they marched
her.
There sat the king on his golden throne, dressed all in splendid golden
robes, and with a golden crown glittering upon his head. But the poor
princess was so frightened that she neither looked at anything nor saw
anything, but only stood there trembling.
“What have you under your apron?” said the king. But to this the
princess could not answer a single word. Then somebody who stood near
snatched away her apron, and there was the basket full of kitchen
scrapings, and all the time the princess stood so heart-struck with
shame that she saw nothing but the cracks in the floor.
But the king stepped down from his golden throne, dressed all in his
golden robes, just as he was, and took the princess by the hand. “And do
you not know me?” said he; “look! I am the gooseherd.”
[Illustration: The Princess knoweth the Young King.]
And so he was! She could see it easily enough now, but that made her
more ashamed than ever.
And listen: the king had more to tell her yet. He was the tipsy
countryman and had knocked over her basket of eggs himself, and more
than that he was the swineherd who had driven his pigs over her basket
of apples so that they were spilled on the ground. But the princess only
bowed her head lower and lower, for her pride was broken.
“Come,” says the king, “you are my own sweetheart now;” and he kissed
her on the cheek and seated her beside himself, and if the princess
cried any more the king wiped away her tears with his own
pocket-handkerchief. As for the poor and rough clothes in which she was
dressed, he thought nothing of them, for they were nothing to him.
That is the end of this story, for everything ends aright in a story
worth the telling.
But if the princess was proud and haughty before, she never was again;
and that is the plain truth, fresh from the churn and no hairs in it,
and a lump of it is worth spreading your bread with, I can tell you.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]