Once on a time there was a man who had a meadow, which lay high up on
the hill-side, and in the meadow was a barn, which he had built to keep
his hay in. Now, I must tell you, there hadn’t been much in the barn
for the last year or two, for every St. John’s night, when the grass
stood greenest and deepest, the meadow was eaten down to the very
ground the next morning, just as if a whole drove of sheep had been
there feeding on it over night. This happened once, and it happened
twice; so at last the man grew weary of losing his crop of hay, and
said to his sons—for he had three of them, and the youngest was
nicknamed Boots, of course—that now one of them must just go and sleep
in the barn in the outlying field when St. John’s night came, for it
was too good a joke that his grass should be eaten, root and blade,
this year, as it had been the last two years. So whichever of them went
must keep a sharp look-out; that was what their father said.
Well, the eldest son was ready to go and watch the meadow; trust him
for looking after the grass! It shouldn’t be his fault if man or beast,
or the fiend himself, got a blade of grass. So, when evening came, he
set off to the barn, and lay down to sleep; but a little on in the
night came such a clatter, and such an earthquake, that walls and roof
shook, and groaned, and creaked; then up jumped the lad, and took to
his heels as fast as ever he could; nor dared he once look round till
he reached home; and as for the hay, why it was eaten up this year just
as it had been twice before.
The next St. John’s night, the man said again, it would never do to
lose all the grass in the outlying field year after year in this way,
so one of his sons must just trudge off to watch it, and watch it well
too. Well, the next oldest son was ready to try his luck, so he set
off, and lay down to sleep in the barn as his brother had done before
him; but as the night wore on, there came on a rumbling and quaking of
the earth, worse even than on the last St. John’s night, and when the
lad heard it, he got frightened, and took to his heels as though he
were running a race.
Next year the turn came to Boots; but when he made ready to go, the
other two began to laugh and to make game of him, saying,
“You’re just the man to watch the hay, that you are; you, who have done
nothing all your life but sit in the ashes and toast yourself by the
fire.”
But Boots did not care a pin for their chattering, and stumped away as
evening drew on, up the hill-side to the outlying field. There he went
inside the barn and lay down; but in about an hour’s time the barn
began to groan and creak, so that it was dreadful to hear.
“Well”, said Boots to himself, “if it isn’t worse than this, I can
stand it well enough.”
A little while after came another creak and an earthquake, so that the
litter in the barn flew about the lad’s ears.
“Oh!” said Boots to himself, “if it isn’t worse than this, I daresay I
can stand it out.”
But just then came a third rumbling, and a third earthquake, so that
the lad thought walls and roof were coming down on his head; but it
passed off, and all was still as death about him.
“It’ll come again, I’ll be bound”, thought Boots; but no, it didn’t
come again; still it was, and still it stayed; but after he had lain a
little while, he heard a noise as if a horse were standing just outside
the barn-door, and cropping the grass. He stole to the door, and peeped
through a chink, and there stood a horse feeding away. So big, and fat,
and grand a horse, Boots had never set eyes on; by his side on the
grass lay a saddle and bridle, and a full set of armour for a knight,
all of brass, so bright that the light gleamed from it.
“Ho, ho!” thought the lad; “it’s you, is it, that eats up our hay? I’ll
soon put a spoke in your wheel, just see if I don’t.”
So he lost no time, but took the steel out of his tinder-box, and threw
it over the horse; then it had no power to stir from the spot, and
became so tame that the lad could do what he liked with it. So he got
on its back, and rode off with it to a place which no one knew of, and
there he put up the horse. When he got home, his brothers laughed and
asked how he had fared?
“You didn’t lie long in the barn, even if you had the heart to go so
far as the field.”
“Well”, said Boots, “all I can say is, I lay in the barn till the sun
rose, and neither saw nor heard anything; I can’t think what there was
in the barn to make you both so afraid.”
“A pretty story”, said his brothers; “but we’ll soon see how you have
watched the meadow”; so they set off; but when they reached it, there
stood the grass as deep and thick as it had been over night.
Well, the next St. John’s eve it was the same story over again; neither
of the elder brothers dared to go out to the outlying field to watch
the crop; but Boots, he had the heart to go, and everything happened
just as it had happened the year before. First a clatter and an
earthquake, then a greater clatter and another earthquake, and so on a
third time; only this year the earthquakes were far worse than the year
before. Then all at once everything was as still as death, and the lad
heard how something was cropping the grass outside the barn-door, so he
stole to the door, and peeped through a chink; and what do you think he
saw? why, another horse standing right up against the wall, and chewing
and champing with might and main. It was far finer and fatter than that
which came the year before, and it had a saddle on its back, and a
bridle on its neck, and a full suit of mail for a knight lay by its
side, all of silver, and as grand as you would wish to see.
“Ho ho!” said Boots to himself; “it’s you that gobbles up our hay, is
it? I’ll soon put a spoke in your wheel”; and with that he took the
steel out of his tinder-box, and threw it over the horse’s crest, which
stood as still as a lamb. Well, the lad rode this horse, too, to the
hiding-place where he kept the other one, and after that he went home.
“I suppose you’ll tell us”, said one of his brothers, “there’s a fine
crop this year too, up in the hayfield.”
“Well, so there is”, said Boots; and off ran the others to see, and
there stood the grass thick and deep, as it was the year before; but
they didn’t give Boots softer words for all that.
Now, when the third St. John’s eve came, the two elder still hadn’t the
heart to lie out in the barn and watch the grass, for they had got so
scared at heart the night they lay there before, that they couldn’t get
over the fright; but Boots, he dared to go; and, to make a long story
short, the very same thing happened this time as had happened twice
before. Three earthquakes came, one after the other, each worse than
the one which went before, and when the last came, the lad danced about
with the shock from one barn wall to the other; and after that, all at
once, it was still as death. Now when he had lain a little while, he
heard something tugging away at the grass outside the barn, so he stole
again to the door-chink, and peeped out, and there stood a horse close
outside—far, far bigger and fatter than the two he had taken before.
“Ho, ho!” said the lad to himself, “it’s you, is it, that comes here
eating up our hay? I’ll soon stop that—I’ll soon put a spoke in your
wheel.” So he caught up his steel and threw it over the horse’s neck,
and in a trice it stood as if it were nailed to the ground, and Boots
could do as he pleased with it. Then he rode off with it to the
hiding-place where he kept the other two, and then went home. When he
got home, his two brothers made game of him as they had done before,
saying, they could see he had watched the grass well, for he looked for
all the world as if he were walking in his sleep, and many other
spiteful things they said, but Boots gave no heed to them, only asking
them to go and see for themselves; and when they went, there stood the
grass as fine and deep this time as it had been twice before.
Now, you must know that the king of the country where Boots lived had a
daughter, whom he would only give to the man who could ride up over the
hill of glass, for there was a high, high hill, all of glass, as smooth
and slippery as ice, close by the king’s palace. Upon the tip top of
the hill the king’s daughter was to sit, with three golden apples in
her lap, and the man who could ride up and carry off the three golden
apples, was to have half the kingdom, and the Princess to wife. This
the king had stuck up on all the church-doors in his realm, and had
given it out in many other kingdoms besides. Now, this Princess was so
lovely, that all who set eyes on her, fell over head and ears in love
with her whether they would or no. So I needn’t tell you how all the
princes and knights who heard of her were eager to win her to wife, and
half the kingdom beside; and how they came riding from all parts of the
world on high prancing horses, and clad in the grandest clothes, for
there wasn’t one of them who hadn’t made up his mind that he, and he
alone, was to win the Princess.
So when the day of trial came, which the king had fixed, there was such
a crowd of princes and knights under the glass hill, that it made one’s
head whirl to look at them; and every one in the country who could even
crawl along was off to the hill, for they all were eager to see the man
who was to win the Princess. So the two elder brothers set off with the
rest; but as for Boots, they said outright he shouldn’t go with them,
for if they were seen with such a dirty, changeling, all begrimed with
smut from cleaning their shoes and sifting cinders in the dust-hole,
they said folk would make game of them.
“Very well”, said Boots, “it’s all one to me. I can go alone, and stand
or fall by myself.”
Now when the two brothers came to the hill of glass, the knights and
princes were all hard at it, riding their horses till they were all in
a foam; but it was no good, by my troth; for as soon as ever the horses
set foot on the hill, down they slipped, and there wasn’t one who could
get a yard or two up; and no wonder, for the hill was as smooth as a
sheet of glass, and as steep as a house-wall. But all were eager to
have the Princess and half the kingdom. So they rode and slipped, and
slipped and rode, and still it was the same story over again. At last
all their horses were so weary that they could scarce lift a leg, and
in such a sweat that the lather dripped from them, and so the knights
had to give up trying any more. So the king was just thinking that he
would proclaim a new trial for the next day, to see if they would have
better luck, when all at once a knight came riding up on so brave a
steed, that no one had ever seen the like of it in his born days, and
the knight had mail of brass, and the horse a brass bit in his mouth,
so bright that the sunbeams shone from it. Then all the others called
out to him he might just as well spare himself the trouble of riding at
the hill, for it would lead to no good; but he gave no heed to them,
and put his horse at the hill, and went up it like nothing for a good
way, about a third of the height; and when he had got so far, he turned
his horse round and rode down again. So lovely a knight the Princess
thought she had never yet seen; and while he was riding, she sat and
thought to herself: “Would to heaven he might only come up and down the
other side.”
And when she saw him turning back, she threw down one of the golden
apples after him, and it rolled down into his shoe. But when he got to
the bottom of the hill he rode off so fast that no one could tell what
had become of him. That evening all the knights and princes were to go
before the king, that he who had ridden so far up the hill might show
the apple which the princess had thrown, but there was no one who had
anything to show. One after the other they all came, but not a man of
them could show the apple.
At even the brothers of Boots came home too, and had such a long story
to tell about the riding up the hill.
“First of all”, they said, “there was not one of the whole lot who
could get so much as a stride up; but at last came one who had a suit
of brass mail, and a brass bridle and saddle, all so bright that the
sun shone from them a mile off. He was a chap to ride, just! He rode a
third of the way up the hill of glass, and he could easily have ridden
the whole way up, if he chose; but he turned round and rode down,
thinking, maybe, that was enough for once.”
“Oh! I should so like to have seen him, that I should”, said Boots, who
sat by the fireside, and stuck his feet into the cinders, as was his
wont.
“Oh!” said his brothers, “you would, would you? You; look fit to keep
company with such high lords, nasty beast that you are, sitting there
amongst the ashes.”
Next day the brothers were all for setting off again, and Boots begged
them this time, too, to let him go with them and see the riding; but
no, they wouldn’t have him at any price, he was too ugly and nasty,
they said.
“Well, well!” said Boots;” if I go at all, I must go by myself. I’m not
afraid.”
So when the brothers got to the hill of glass, all the princes and
knights began to ride again, and you may fancy they had taken care to
shoe their horses sharp; but it was no good—they rode and slipped, and
slipped and rode, just as they had done the day before, and there was
not one who could get so far as a yard up the hill. And when they had
worn out their horses, so that they could not stir a leg, they were all
forced to give it up as a bad job. So the king thought he might as well
proclaim that the riding should take place the day after for the last
time, just to give them one chance more; but all at once it came across
his mind that he might as well wait a little longer, to see if the
knight in brass mail would come this day too. Well! they saw nothing of
him; but all at once came one riding on a steed, far, far, braver and
finer than that on which the knight in brass had ridden, and he had
silver mail, and a silver saddle and bridle, all so bright that the
sun-beams gleamed and glanced from them far away. Then the others
shouted out to him again, saying, he might as well hold hard, and not
try to ride up the hill, for all his trouble would be thrown away; but
the knight paid no heed to them, and rode straight at the hill, and
right up it, till he had gone two-thirds of the way, and then he
wheeled his horse round and rode down again. To tell the truth, the
Princess liked him still better than the knight in brass, and she sat
and wished he might only be able to come right up to the top, and down
the other side; but when she saw him turning back, she threw the second
apple after him, and it rolled down and fell into his shoe. But, as
soon as ever he had come down from the hill of glass, he rode off so
fast that no one could see what became of him.
At even, when all were to go in before the king and the Princess, that
he who had the golden apple might show it, in they went, one after the
other, but there was no one who had any apple to show, and the two
brothers, as they had done on the former day, went home and told how
things had gone, and how all had ridden at the hill, and none got up.
“But, last of all”, they said, “came one in a silver suit, and his
horse had a silver saddle and a silver bridle. He was just a chap to
ride; and he got two-thirds up the hill, and then turned back. He was a
fine fellow, and no mistake; and the Princess threw the second gold
apple to him.”
“Oh!” said Boots, “I should so like to have seen him too, that I
should.”
“A pretty story”, they said. “Perhaps you think his coat of mail was as
bright as the ashes you are always poking about, and sifting, you nasty
dirty beast.”
The third day everything happened as it had happened the two days
before. Boots begged to go and see the sight, but the two wouldn’t hear
of his going with them. When they got to the hill there was no one who
could get so much as a yard up it; and now all waited for the knight in
silver mail, but they neither saw nor heard of him. At last came one
riding on a steed, so brave that no one had ever seen his match; and
the knight had a suit of golden mail, and a golden saddle and bridle,
so wondrous bright that the sunbeams gleamed from them a mile off. The
other knights and princes could not find time to call out to him not to
try his luck, for they were amazed to see how grand he was. So he rode
right at the hill, and tore up it like nothing, so that the Princess
hadn’t even time to wish that he might get up the whole way. As soon as
ever he reached the top, he took the third golden apple from the
Princess’ lap, and then turned his horse and rode down again. As soon
as he got down, he rode off at full speed, and was out of sight in no
time.
Now, when the brothers got home at even, you may fancy what long
stories they told, how the riding had gone off that day; and amongst
other things, they had a deal to say about the knight in golden mail.
“He just was a chap to ride!” they said; “so grand a knight isn’t to be
found in the wide world.”
“Oh!” said Boots, “I should so like to have seen him, that I should.”
“Ah! “said his brothers, “his mail shone a deal brighter than the
glowing coals which you are always poking and digging at; nasty dirty
beast that you are.”
Next day all the knights and princes were to pass before the king and
the Princess—it was too late to do so the night before, I suppose—that
he who had the gold apple might bring it forth; but one came after
another, first the princes, and then the knights, and still no one
could show the gold apple.
“Well”, said the king, “some one must have it, for it was something
that we all saw with our own eyes, how a man came and rode up and bore
it off.”
So he commanded that every one who was in the kingdom should come up to
the palace and see if they could show the apple. Well, they all came
one after another, but no one had the golden apple, and after a long
time the two brothers of Boots came. They were the last of all, so the
king asked them if there was no one else in the kingdom who hadn’t
come.
“Oh, yes”, said they; “we have a brother, but he never carried off the
golden apple. He hasn’t stirred out of the dusthole on any of the three
days.”
“Never mind that”, said the king; “he may as well come up to the palace
like the rest.”
So Boots had to go up to the palace.
“How, now”, said the king; “have you got the golden apple? Speak out!”
“Yes, I have”, said Boots; “here is the first, and here is the second,
and here is the third too”; and with that he pulled all three golden
apples out of his pocket, and at the same time threw off his sooty
rags, and stood before them in his gleaming golden mail.
“Yes!” said the king; “you shall have my daughter, and half my kingdom,
for you well deserve both her and it.”
So they got ready for the wedding, and Boots got the Princess to wife,
and there was great merry-making at the bridal-feast, you may fancy,
for they could all be merry though they couldn’t ride up the hill of
glass; and all I can say is, if they haven’t left off their
merry-making yet, why, they’re still at it.