Chapter IV: Front Matter (4)

The next day they went again into the fields, and the covetous wolf said to the fox: “Get me something to eat now, or I will devour you!”

The fox said he knew a country house where the cook was going that evening to make some pancakes, and thither they went. When they arrived, the fox sneaked and crept around round the house, until he at last discovered where the dish was standing, out of which he stole six pancakes, and took them to the wolf, saying, “There is something for you to eat!” and then ran away. The wolf dispatched these in a minute or two, and, wishing to taste some more, he went and seized the dish, but took it away so hurriedly that it broke in pieces. The noise of its fall brought out the woman, who, as soon as she saw the wolf, called her people, who, hastening up, beat him with such a good will that he ran home to the fox, howling, with two lame legs! “What a horrid place you have drawn me into now,” cried he; “the peasants have caught me, and dressed my skin finely!”

“Why, then, are you such a glutton?” said the fox.

When they went out again the third day, the wolf limping along with weariness, he said to the fox: “Get me something to eat now, or I will devour you!”

The fox said he knew a man who had just killed a pig, and salted the meat down in a cask in his cellar, and that they could get at it. The wolf replied that he would go with him on condition that he helped him if he could not escape. “Oh, of course I will, on mine own account!” said the fox, and showed him the tricks and ways by which they could get into the cellar. When they went in there was meat in abundance, and the wolf was enraptured at the sight. The fox, too, had a taste, but kept looking round while eating, and ran frequently to the hole by which they had entered, to see if his body would slip through it easily. Presently the wolf asked: “Why are you running about so, you fox, jumping in and out?” “I want to see if any one is coming,” replied the fox cunningly; “but mind you do not eat too much!”

The wolf said he would not leave till the cask was quite empty; and meanwhile the peasant, who had heard the noise made by the fox, entered the cellar. The fox, as soon as he saw him, made a spring, and was through the hole in a jiffy; and the wolf tried to follow his example, but he had eaten so much that his body was too big for the opening, and he stuck fast. Then came the peasant with a cudgel, and beat him sorely; but the fox leaped away into the forest, very glad to get rid of the old glutton.

_Discreet Hans_

Hans’ mother asked: “Whither are you going, Hans?” “To Grethel’s,” replied he. “Behave well, Hans.” “I will take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day,” said he. “Good day,” replied Grethel, “what treasure do you bring to-day?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel presented Hans with a needle. “Good-by,” said he. “Good-by, Hans.” Hans took the needle, stuck it in a load of hay, and walked home behind the wagon.

“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s.” “And what have you given her?” “Nothing; she has given me something.” “What has Grethel given you?” “A needle,” said Hans. “And where have you put it?” “In the load of hay.” “Then you have behaved stupidly, Hans; you should put needles on your coat-sleeve.” “To behave better, do nothing at all,” thought Hans.

“Whither are you going, Hans?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I will take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day,” said he. “Good day, Hans. What treasure do you bring?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel gave Hans a knife. “Good-by, Grethel.” “Good-by, Hans.” Hans took the knife, put it in his sleeve, and went home.

“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s.” “And what did you take to her?” “I took nothing; she has given to me.” “And what did she give you?” “A knife,” said Hans. “And where have you put it?” “In my sleeve.” “Then you have behaved foolishly again, Hans; you should put knives in your pocket.” “To behave better, do nothing at all,” thought Hans.

“Whither are you going, Hans?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I will take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day, Grethel.” “Good day, Hans. What treasure do you bring?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel gave Hans a young goat. “Good-by, Grethel.” “Good-by, Hans.” Hans took the goat, tied its legs, and put it in his pocket.

Just as he reached home it was suffocated. “Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s.” “And what did you take to her?” “I took nothing; she gave to me.” “And what did Grethel give you?” “A goat.” “Where did you put it, Hans?” “In my pocket.” “There you acted stupidly, Hans; you should have tied the goat with a rope.” “To behave better, do nothing,” thought Hans.

“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day,” said he. “Good day, Hans. What treasure do you bring?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel gave Hans a piece of bacon. “Good-by, Grethel.” “Good-by, Hans.” Hans took the bacon, tied it with a rope, and swung it to and fro so that the dogs came and ate it up. When he reached home he held the rope in his hand, but there was nothing on it.

“Good evening, mother,” said he. “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “What did you take there?” “I took nothing; she gave to me.” “And what did Grethel give you?” “A piece of bacon,” said Hans. “And where have you put it?” “I tied it with a rope, swung it about, and the dogs came and ate it up.” “There you acted stupidly, Hans; you should have carried the bacon on your head.” “To behave better, do nothing,” thought Hans.

“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day,” said he. “Good day, Hans. What treasure do you bring?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel gave Hans a calf. “Good-by,” said Hans. “Good-by.” Hans took the calf, set it on his head, and the calf scratched his face.

“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s.” “What did you take her?” “I took nothing; she gave to me.” “And what did Grethel give you?” “A calf,” said Hans. “And what did you do with it?” “I set it on my head, and it kicked my face.” “Then you acted stupidly, Hans; you should have led the calf home, and put it in the stall.” “To behave better, do nothing,” thought Hans.

“Whither away, Hans?” “To Grethel’s, mother.” “Behave well, Hans.” “I’ll take care; good-by, mother.” “Good-by, Hans.”

Hans came to Grethel. “Good day,” said he. “Good day, Hans. What treasure do you bring?” “I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?” Grethel said: “I will go with you, Hans.” Hans tied a rope round Grethel, led her home, put her in the stall, and made the rope fast; and then he went to his mother.

“Good evening, mother.” “Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?” “To Grethel’s.” “What did you take her?” “I took nothing.” “What did Grethel give you?” “She gave nothing; she came with me.” “And where have you left her, then?” “I tied her with a rope, put her in the stall, and threw in some grass.” “Then you acted stupidly, Hans; you should have looked at her with friendly eyes.” “To behave better, do nothing,” thought Hans; and then he went into the stall, and made sheep’s eyes at Grethel.

And after that Grethel became Hans’ wife.

_King Thrush-beard_

A certain king had a daughter who was beautiful above all belief, but withal so proud and haughty, that no suitor was good enough for her, and she not only turned back every one who came, but also made game of them all. Once the king proclaimed a great festival, and invited thereto from far and near all the marriageable young men. When they arrived they were all set in a row, according to their rank and standing: first the kings, then the princes, the dukes, the marquesses, the earls, and, last of all, the barons. Then the king’s daughter was led down the rows, but she found something to make game of it all. One was too fat. “The wine-tub!” said she. Another was too tall. “Long and lanky; has no grace,” she remarked. A third was too short and fat. “Too stout to have any wits,” said she. A fourth was too pale. “Like Death himself,” was her remark, and a fifth, who had a great deal of color, she called “a cockatoo.” The sixth was not straight enough, and him she called “a green log scorched in the oven!” And so she went on, nicknaming every one of the suitors, but she made particularly merry with a good young king whose chin had grown rather crooked. “Ha, ha!” laughed she, “he has a chin like a thrush’s beak”; and after that day he went by the name of Thrush-beard.

The old king, however, when he saw that his daughter did nothing but mock at and make sport of all the suitors who were collected, became very angry, and swore that she should take the first decent beggar for a husband who came to the gate.

A couple of days after this a player came beneath the windows to sing and earn some bounty if he could. As soon as the king saw him he ordered him to be called up, and presently he came into the room in all his dirty, ragged clothes, and sang before the king and princess, and when he had finished he begged for a slight recompense. The king said: “Thy song has pleased so much that I will give thee my daughter for a wife.”

The princess was terribly frightened, but the king said: “I have taken an oath, and mean to perform it, that I will give you to the first beggar.” All her remonstrances were in vain; the priest was called, and the princess was married in earnest to the player. When the ceremony was performed, the king said: “Now, it cannot be suffered that you should stop here with your husband, in my house; no! you must travel about the country with him.”

So the beggarman led her away, and she was forced to trudge along with him on foot. As they came to a large forest, she asked:

“To whom belongs this beautiful wood?”

The echo replied:

“King Thrush-beard the good!
Had you taken him, it had been thine.”

“Ah, silly,” said she,

“What a lot had been mine
Had I happily married King Thrush-beard!”

Next they came to a meadow, and she asked:

“To whom belongs this meadow so green?”

“To King Thrush-beard,” was again the reply.

Then they came to a great city, and she asked:

“To whom does this beautiful town belong?”

“To King Thrush-beard,” said one.

“Ah, what a simpleton was I that I did not marry him when I had the chance!” exclaimed the poor princess.

“Come,” broke in the player, “it does not please me, I can tell you, that you are always wishing for another husband; am I not good enough for you?”

By and by they came to a very small hut, and she said: “Ah, heavens, to whom can this miserable, wretched hovel belong?”

The player replied: “That is my house, where we shall live together.”

The princess was obliged to stoop to get in at the door, and when she was inside, she asked: “Where are the servants?” “What servants?” exclaimed her husband. “You must yourself do all that you want done. Now make a fire and put on some water, that you may cook my dinner, for I am quite tired.”

The princess, however, understood nothing about making fires or cooking, and the beggar had to set to work himself, and as soon as they had finished their scanty meal they went to bed. In the morning the husband woke up his wife very early, that she might set the house to rights, and for a couple of days they lived on in this way, and made an end of their store. Then the husband said: “Wife, we must not go on in this way any longer, stopping here, doing nothing; you must weave some baskets.” So he went out and cut some osiers and brought them home, but when his wife attempted to bend them the hard twigs wounded her hands and made them bleed. “I see that won’t suit,” said her husband; “you had better spin, perhaps that will do better.”

So she sat down to spin, but the harsh thread cut her tender fingers very badly, so that the blood flowed freely. “Do you see,” said the husband, “how you are spoiling your work? I made a bad bargain in taking you! Now I must try and make a business in pots and earthen vessels; you shall sit in the market and sell them.”

“Oh, if anybody out of my father’s dominions should come and see me in the market selling pots,” thought the princess to herself, “how they would laugh at me!”

However, all her excuses were in vain; she must either do that or die of hunger.

The first time all went well, for the people bought of the princess, because she was so pretty-looking, and not only gave her what she asked, but some even laid down their money and left the pots behind. On her earnings this day, they lived for some time as long as they lasted; and then the husband purchased a fresh stock of pots. With these she placed her stall at a corner of the market, offering them for sale. All at once a drunken hussar came plunging down the street on his horse, and rode right into the midst of her earthenware, and shattered it into a thousand pieces. The accident, as well it might, set her a-weeping, and in her trouble, not knowing what to do, she ran home crying: “Ah, what will become of me; what will my good man say?” When she had told her husband, he cried out: “Who ever would have thought of sitting at the corner of the market to sell earthenware? but well I see you are not accustomed to any ordinary work. There, leave off crying; I have been to the king’s palace, and asked if they were not in want of a kitchen-maid; and they have agreed to take you, and there you will live free of cost.”

Now the princess became a kitchen-maid, and was obliged to do as the cook bade her, and wash up the dirty things. Then she put a jar into each of her pockets, and in them she took home what was left of what fell to her share of the good things, and of these she and her husband made their meals. Not many days afterward it happened that the wedding of the king’s eldest son was to be celebrated, and the poor wife placed herself near the door of the saloon to look on. As the lamps were lit and guests more and more beautiful entered the room, and all dressed most sumptuously, she reflected on her fate with a saddened heart, and repented of the pride and haughtiness which had so humiliated and impoverished her. Every now and then the servants threw her out of the dishes morsels of rich delicacies which they carried in, whose fragrant smells increased her regrets, and these pieces she put into her pockets to carry home. Presently the king entered, clothed in silk and velvet, and having a golden chain round his neck. As soon as he saw the beautiful maiden standing at the door, he seized her by the hand and would dance with her, but she, terribly frightened, refused; for she saw it was King Thrush-beard, who had wooed her, and whom she had laughed at. Her struggles were of no avail; he drew her into the ball-room, and there tore off the band to which the pots were attached, so that they fell down and the soup ran over the floor, while the pieces of meat, etc., skipped about in all directions. When the fine folks saw this sight they burst into one universal shout of laughter and derision, and the poor girl was so ashamed that she wished herself a thousand fathoms below the earth. She ran out at the door and would have escaped; but on the steps she met a man, who took her back, and when she looked at him, lo! it was King Thrush-beard again. He spoke kindly to her, and said: “Be not afraid; I and the musician, who dwelt with you in the wretched hut, are one; for love of you I have acted thus; and the hussar who rode in among the pots was also myself. All this has taken place in order to humble your haughty disposition, and to punish you for your pride, which led you to mock me.”

At these words she wept bitterly, and said: “I am not worthy to be your wife, I have done you so great a wrong.” But he replied: “Those evil days are passed; we will now celebrate our marriage.”

Immediately after came the bridesmaids, and put on her the most magnificent dresses; and then her father and his whole court arrived, and wished her happiness on her wedding-day; and now commenced her true joy as queen of the country of King Thrush-beard.

_The Three Luck-Children_

There was once upon a time a father, who called his three sons to him, and gave the first a cock, the second a scythe, and the third a cat, and then addressed them thus: “I am very old, and my end draweth nigh, but I wish to show my care for you before I die. Money I have not, and what I now give you appears of little worth; but do not think that, for if each of you use his gift carefully, and seek some country where such a thing is not known, your fortunes will be made.”

Soon after, the father died, and the eldest son set out on his travels with his cock, but wherever he came, such a creature was already well known. In the towns he saw it from afar, sitting upon the church steeples, and turning itself round with the wind; and in the villages he heard more than one crow, and nobody troubled himself about another, so that it did not seem as if he would ever make his fortune by it. At last, however, it fell out that he arrived on an island where the people knew nothing about cocks, nor even how to divide their time. They knew, certainly, when it was evening and morning, but at night, if they did not sleep through it, they could not comprehend the time. “See,” said he to them, “what a proud creature it is, what a fine red crown it wears on its head, and it has spurs like a knight! Thrice during the night it will crow at certain hours, and the third time it calls you may know the sun will soon rise; but, if it crows by day, you may prepare then for a change of weather.”

The good people were well pleased, and the whole night they laid awake and listened to the cock, which crowed loudly and clearly at two, four, and six o’clock. The next day they asked if the creature were not for sale, and how much he asked, and he replied: “As much gold as an ass can bear.” “A ridiculously small sum,” said they, “for such a marvelous creature!” and gave him readily what he asked.

When he returned home with his money, his brothers were astonished, and the second said he would also go out and see what luck his scythe would bring him. But at first it did not seem likely that fortune would favor him, for all the countrymen he met carried equally good scythes upon their shoulders. At last, however, he also came to an island whose people were ignorant of the use of scythes; for when a field of corn was ripe, they planted great cannons and shot it down! In this way, it was no uncommon thing that many of them shot quite over it; others hit the ears instead of the stalks, and shot them quite away, so that a great quantity was always ruined, and the most doleful lamentations ensued. But our hero, when he arrived, mowed away so silently and quickly, that the people held their breath and noses with wonder, and willingly gave him what he desired, which was a horse laden with as much gold as it could carry.

On his return the third brother set out with his cat to try his luck, and it happened to him exactly as it had done to the others; so long as he kept on the old roads he met with no place which did not already boast its cat; indeed, so many were there that the new-born kittens were usually drowned. At last he voyaged to an island where, luckily for him, cats were unknown animals; and yet, the mice were so numerous that they danced upon the tables and chairs, whether the master of the house were at home or not. These people complained continually of the plague, and the king himself knew not how to deliver them from it; for in every corner the mice were swarming, and destroyed what they could not carry away in their teeth. The cat, however, on its arrival, commenced a grand hunt; and so soon cleared a couple of rooms of the troublesome visitors, that the people begged the king to buy it for the use of his kingdom. The king gave willingly the price that was asked for the wonderful animal, and the third brother returned home with a still larger treasure, in the shape of a mule laden with gold.

Meanwhile the cat was having capital sport in the royal palace with the mice, and bit so many that the dead were not to be numbered. At last she became very thirsty with the hot work, and stopped, and, raising her head, cried: “Miau, miau!” At the unusual sound, the king, together with all his courtiers, were much frightened, and in terror they ran out of the castle. There the king held a council what it were best to do, and at length it was resolved to send a herald to the cat, to demand that she should quit the castle, or force would be used to make her. “For,” said the councilors, “we would rather be plagued by the mice, to which we are accustomed, than surrender ourselves a prey to this beast.” A page was accordingly sent to the cat to ask whether she would quit the castle in peace; but the cat, whose thirst had all the while been increasing, replied nothing but “Miau, miau!” The page understood her to say, “No, no!” and brought the king word accordingly. The councilors agreed then that she should feel their power, and cannons were brought out and fired, so that the castle was presently in flames. When the fire reached the room where the cat was, she sprang out of the window, but the besiegers ceased not until the whole was leveled with the ground.

_The Three Sluggards_

A certain king had three sons, all of whom he loved so much that he did not know which he should name to be king after him. When the day of his death approached, he called them to his bedside, and thus spoke to them: “Dear children, I have something on my mind that I wish to tell you; whichever of you is the laziest, he shall be king when I am dead.”

“Then, father, the kingdom belongs to me,” said the eldest son; “for I am so lazy, that if I lie down to sleep, and tears come into my eyes, so that I cannot close them, I yet go to sleep without wiping them away!”

“The kingdom belongs to me,” cried the second son; “for I am so lazy that when I sit by the fire to warm myself, I allow my boots to scorch before I will draw away my feet!”

But the third son said: “The kingdom is mine, father, for I am so lazy that, were I about to be hanged, and even had I the rope round my neck, and any one should give me a sharp sword to cut it with, I should suffer myself to be swung off before I took the trouble to cut the rope!”

As soon as the father heard this, he said to his youngest son: “You have shown yourself the laziest of all, and you shall be king.”

_The Fisherman and his Wife_

There was once a fisherman who lived with his wife in a miserable little hovel close to the sea. He went to fish every day, and he fished and fished, and at last one day, when he was sitting looking deep down into the shining water, he felt something on his line. When he hauled it up there was a great flounder on the end of the line. The flounder said to him: “Look here, fisherman, don’t you kill me; I am no common flounder, I am an enchanted prince! What good will it do you to kill me? I sha’n’t be good to eat; put me back into the water, and leave me to swim about.”

“Well,” said the fisherman, “you need not make so many words about it. I am quite ready to put back a flounder that can talk.” And so saying, he put back the flounder into the shining water, and it sank down to the bottom, leaving a streak of blood behind it.

Then the fisherman got up and went back to his wife in the hovel. “Husband,” she said, “hast thou caught nothing today?”

“No,” said the man; “all I caught was one flounder, and he said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go swim again.”

“Didst thou not wish for anything then?” asked the good wife.

“No,” said the man; “what was there to wish for?”

“Alas!” said his wife; “isn’t it bad enough always to live in this wretched hovel? Thou mightest at least have wished for a nice clean cottage. Go back and call him; tell him I want a pretty cottage; he will surely give us that!”

“Alas,” said the man, “what am I to go back there for?”

“Well,” said the woman, “it was thou who caught him and let him go again; for certain he will do that for thee. Be off now!”

The man was still not very willing to go, but he did not want to vex his wife, and at last he went back to the sea.

He found the sea no longer bright and shining, but dull and green. He stood by it and said:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever _I_ say.”

The flounder came swimming up, and said: “Well, what do you want?”

“Alas!” said the man; “I had to call you, for my wife said I ought to have wished for something, as I caught you. She doesn’t want to live in our miserable hovel any longer; she wants a pretty cottage.”

“Go home again, then,” said the flounder; “she has her wish fully.”

The man went home and found his wife no longer in the old hut, but a pretty little cottage stood in its place, and his wife was sitting on a bench by the door.

She took him by the hand, and said: “Come and look in here—isn’t this much better?”

They went inside and found a pretty sitting-room, and a bedroom with a bed in it, a kitchen, and a larder furnished with everything of the best in tin and brass, and every possible requisite. Outside there was a little yard with chickens and ducks, and a little garden full of vegetables and fruit.

“Look!” said the woman, “is not this nice?”

“Yes,” said the man; “and so let it remain. We can live here very happily.”

“We will see about that,” said the woman, and with that they ate something and went to bed.

Everything went well for a week or more, and then said the wife: “Listen, husband; this cottage is too cramped, and the garden is too small. The flounder might have given us a bigger house. I want to live in a big stone castle. Go to the flounder, and tell him to give us a castle.”

“Alas, wife!” said the man; “the cottage is good enough for us; what should we do with a castle?”

“Never mind,” said his wife; “do thou but go to the flounder, and he will manage it.”

“Nay, wife,” said the man; “the flounder gave us the cottage. I don’t want to go back; as likely as not he’ll be angry.”

“Go, all the same,” said the woman. “He can do it easily enough, and willingly into the bargain. Just go!”

The man’s heart was heavy, and he was very unwilling to go. He said to himself: “It’s not right.” But at last he went.

He found the sea was no longer green; it was still calm, but dark violet and gray. He stood by it and said:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”

“Now, what do you want?” said the flounder.

“Alas,” said the man, half scared, “my wife wants a big stone castle.”

“Go home again,” said the flounder; “she is standing at the door of it.”

Then the man went away, thinking he would find no house, but when he got back he found a great stone palace, and his wife standing at the top of the steps, waiting to go in.

She took him by the hand and said: “Come in with me.”

With that they went in and found a great hall paved with marble slabs, and numbers of servants in attendance, who opened the great doors for them. The walls were hung with beautiful tapestries, and the rooms were furnished with golden chairs and tables, while rich carpets covered the floors, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. The tables groaned under every kind of delicate food and the most costly wines. Outside the house there was a great courtyard, with stabling for horses, and cows, and many fine carriages. Beyond this there was a great garden filled with the loveliest flowers, and fine fruit trees. There was also a park, half a mile long, and in it were stags and hinds, and hares, and everything of the kind one could wish for.

“Now,” said the woman, “is not this worth having?”

“Oh, yes,” said the man; “and so let it remain. We will live in this beautiful palace and be content.”

“We will think about that,” said his wife, “and sleep upon it.”

With that they went to bed.

Next morning the wife woke up first; day was just dawning, and from her bed she could see the beautiful country around her. Her husband was still asleep, but she pushed him with her elbow, and said: “Husband, get up and peep out of the window. See here, now, could we not be king over all this land? Go to the flounder. We will be king.”

“Alas, wife,” said the man, “what should we be king for? I don’t want to be king.”

“Ah,” said his wife, “if thou wilt not be king, I will. Go to the flounder. I will be king.”

“Alas, wife,” said the man, “whatever dost thou want to be king for? I don’t like to tell him.”

“Why not?” said the woman. “Go thou must. I will be king.”

So the man went; but he was quite sad because his wife would be king.

“It is not right,” he said; “it is not right.”

When he reached the sea, he found it dark, gray, and rough, and evil-smelling. He stood there and said:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”

“Now, what does she want?” said the flounder.

“Alas,” said the man, “she wants to be king now.”

“Go back. She is king already,” said the flounder.

So the man went back, and when he reached the palace he found that it had grown much larger, and a great tower had been added, with handsome decorations. There was a sentry at the door, and numbers of soldiers were playing drums and trumpets. As soon as he got inside the house, he found everything was marble and gold; and the hangings were of velvet, with great golden tassels. The doors of the saloon were thrown wide open, and he saw the whole court assembled. His wife was sitting on a lofty throne of gold and diamonds; she wore a golden crown, and carried in one hand a scepter of pure gold. On each side of her stood her ladies in a long row, each one a head shorter than the next.

He stood before her, and said: “Alas, wife, art thou now king?”

“Yes,” she said; “now I am king.”

He stood looking at her for some time, and then he said: “Ah, wife, it is a fine thing for thee to be king; now we will not wish to be anything more.”

“Nay, husband,” she answered, quite uneasily, “I find the time hangs very heavy on my hands. I can’t bear it any longer. Go back to the flounder. King I am, but I must also be emperor.”

“Alas, wife,” said the man, “why dost thou now want to be emperor?”

“Husband,” she answered, “go to the flounder. Emperor I will be.”

“Alas, wife,” said the man, “emperor he can’t make thee, and I won’t ask him. There is only one emperor in the country; and emperor the flounder cannot make thee, that he can’t.”

“What?” said the woman. “I am king, and thou art but my husband. To him thou must go, and that right quickly. If he can make a king, he can also make an emperor. Emperor I will be, so quickly go.”

He had to go, but he was quite frightened. And as he went, he thought: “This won’t end well; emperor is too shameless. The flounder will make an end of the whole thing.”

With that he came to the sea, but now he found it quite black, and heaving up from below in great waves. It tossed to and fro, and a sharp wind blew over it, and the man trembled. So he stood there, and said:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”

“What does she want now?” said the flounder.

“Alas, flounder,” he said, “my wife wants to be emperor.”

“Go back,” said the flounder. “She is emperor.”

So the man went back, and when he got to the door, he found that the whole palace was made of polished marble, with alabaster figures and golden decorations. Soldiers marched up and down before the doors, blowing their trumpets and beating their drums. Inside the palace, counts, barons, and dukes walked about as attendants, and they opened to him the doors, which were of pure gold.

He went in, and saw his wife sitting on a huge throne made of solid gold. It was at least two miles high. She had on her head a great golden crown, set with diamonds, three yards high. In one hand she held the scepter, and in the other the ball of empire. On each side of her stood the gentlemen-at-arms in two rows, each one a little smaller than the other, from giants two miles high, down to the tiniest dwarf no bigger than my little finger. She was surrounded by princes and dukes.

Her husband stood still, and said: “Wife, art thou now emperor?”

“Yes,” said she; “now I am emperor.”

Then he looked at her for some time, and said: “Alas, wife, how much better off art thou for being emperor?”

“Husband,” she said, “what art thou standing there for? Now I am emperor, I mean to be pope! Go back to the flounder.”

“Alas, wife,” said the man, “what wilt thou not want? Pope thou canst not be. There is only one pope in Christendom. That’s more than the flounder can do.”

“Husband,” she said, “pope I will be; so go at once. I must be pope this very day.”

“No, wife,” he said, “I dare not tell him. It’s no good; it’s too monstrous altogether. The flounder cannot make thee pope.”

“Husband,” said the woman, “don’t talk nonsense. If he can make an emperor, he can make a pope. Go immediately. I am emperor, and thou art but my husband, and thou must obey.”

So he was frightened, and went; but he was quite dazed. He shivered and shook, and his knees trembled.

A great wind arose over the land, the clouds flew across the sky, and it grew as dark as night; the leaves fell from the trees, and the water foamed and dashed upon the shore. In the distance the ships were being tossed to and fro on the waves, and he heard them firing signals of distress. There was still a little patch of blue in the sky among the dark clouds, but toward the south they were red and heavy, as in a bad storm. In despair, he stood and said:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”

“Now, what does she want?” said the flounder.

“Alas,” said the man, “she wants to be pope.”

“Go back. Pope she is,” said the flounder.

So back he went, and he found a great church, surrounded with palaces. He pressed through the crowd, and inside he found thousands and thousands of lights, and his wife, entirely clad in gold, was sitting on a still higher throne, with three golden crowns upon her head, and she was surrounded with priestly state. On each side of her were two rows of candles, the biggest as thick as a tower, down to the tiniest little taper. Kings and emperors were on their knees before her, kissing her shoe.

“Wife,” said the man, looking at her, “art thou now pope?”

“Yes,” said she; “now I am pope.”

So there he stood gazing at her, and it was like looking at a shining sun.

“Alas, wife,” he said, “art thou better off for being pope?” At first she sat as stiff as a post, without stirring. Then he said: “Now, wife, be content with being pope; higher thou canst not go.”

“I will think about that,” said the woman, and with that they both went to bed. Still she was not content, and could not sleep for her inordinate desires. The man slept well and soundly, for he had walked about a great deal in the day; but his wife could think of nothing but what further grandeur she could demand. When the dawn reddened the sky, she raised herself up in bed and looked out of the window, and when she saw the sun rise she said:

“Ha! can I not cause the sun and the moon to rise? Husband!” she cried, digging her elbow into his side, “wake up and go to the flounder. I will be lord of the universe.”

Her husband, who was still more than half asleep, was so shocked that he fell out of bed. He thought he must have heard wrong. He rubbed his eyes and said:

“Alas, wife, what didst thou say?”

“Husband,” she said, “if I cannot be lord of the universe, and cause the sun and moon to set and rise, I shall not be able to bear it. I shall never have another happy moment.”

She looked at him so wildly that it caused a shudder to run through him.

“Alas, wife,” he said, falling on his knees before her, “the flounder can’t do that. Emperor and pope he can make, but that is indeed beyond him. I pray thee, control thyself and remain pope.”

Then she flew into a terrible rage. Her hair stood on end; she panted for breath, and screamed:

“I won’t bear it any longer; wilt thou go?”

Then he pulled on his trousers and tore away like a madman. Such a storm was raging that he could hardly keep his feet; houses and trees quivered and swayed, mountains trembled, and the rocks rolled into the sea. The sky was pitchy black; it thundered and lightened, and the sea ran in black waves, mountains high, crested with white foam. He shrieked out, but could hardly make himself heard:

“Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”

“Now, what does she want?” asked the flounder.

“Alas,” he said, “she wants to be Lord of the Universe.”

“Now she must go back to her old hovel,” said the flounder; “and there you will find her.”

And there they are to this very day!

_The Nose-tree_

Did you ever hear the story of the three poor soldiers who, after having fought hard in the wars, set out on their road home, begging their way as they went?

They had journeyed on a long time, sick at heart with their bad luck at thus being turned loose on the world in their old days, when one evening they reached a deep, gloomy wood, through which lay their road. Night came fast upon them, and they found that they must, however unwillingly, sleep in this wood; so, to make all safe as they could, it was agreed that two should lie down and sleep, while a third sat up and watched, lest wild beasts should break in and tear them to pieces. When he was tired he was to wake one of the others, and sleep in his turn; and so on with the third, so as to share the work fairly among them.

The two who were to rest first soon lay down and fell fast asleep; and the other made himself a good fire under the trees, and sat down by its side to keep watch. He had not sat long before, all of a sudden, up came a little dwarf in a red jacket. “Who is there?” said he. “A friend,” said the soldier. “What sort of a friend?” “An old, broken soldier,” said the other, “with his two comrades, who have nothing left to live on; come, sit down and warm yourself.” “Well, my worthy fellow,” said the little man, “I will do what I can for you; take this and show it to your comrades in the morning.” So he took out an old cloak and gave it to the soldier, telling him that whenever he put it over his shoulders anything that he wished for would be done for him. Then the little man made him a bow and walked away.

The second soldier’s turn to watch soon came, and the first laid him down to sleep; but the second man had not sat by himself long before up came the dwarf in the red jacket again. The soldier treated him in as friendly a way as his comrade had done, and the little man gave him a purse, which he told him would be always full of gold, let him draw as much as he would out of it.

Then the third soldier’s turn to watch came; and he also had little Red-jacket for his guest, who gave him a wonderful horn, that drew crowds around it whenever it was played, and made every one forget his business to come and dance to its beautiful music.

In the morning each told his story, and showed the gift he had got from the elf: and as they all liked one another very much, and were old friends, they agreed to travel together to see the world, and, for a while, only to make use of the wonderful purse. And thus they spent their time very joyously, till at last they began to be tired of this roving life, and thought they should like to have a home of their own. So the first soldier put his old cloak on and wished for a fine castle. In a moment it stood before their eyes: fine gardens and green lawns spread around it, and flocks of sheep and goats; herds of oxen were grazing about; and out of the gate came a grand coach with three dapple-gray horses, to meet them and bring them home.

All this was very well for a time, but they found it would not do to stay at home always; so they got together all their rich clothes, and jewels, and money, and ordered their coach with three dapple-gray horses, and set out on a journey to see a neighboring king. Now this king had an only daughter, and as he saw the three soldiers traveling in such grand style, he took them for king’s sons, and so gave them a kind welcome. One day, as the second soldier was walking with the princess, she saw that he had the wonderful purse in his hand. Then she asked him what it was, and he was foolish enough to tell her—though, indeed, it did not much signify what he said, for she was a fairy, and knew all the wonderful things that the three soldiers had brought. Now this princess was very cunning and artful; so she set to work and made a purse, so like the soldier’s that no one would know the one from the other; and then she asked him to come and see her, and made him drink some wine that she had got ready for him, and which soon made him fall fast asleep. Then she felt in his pocket, and took away the wonderful purse, and left the one she had made in its place.

The next morning the soldiers set out home; and soon after they reached their castle, happening to want some money, they went to their purse for it, and found something indeed in it; but to their great sorrow, when they had emptied it, none came in the place of what they took. Then the cheat was soon found out; for the second soldier knew where he had been, and how he had told the story to the princess, and he guessed that she had played him a trick. “Alas!” cried he, “poor wretches that we are, what shall we do?” “Oh!” said the first soldier, “let no gray hairs grow for this mishap; I will soon get the purse back.” So he threw his cloak across his shoulders and wished himself in the princess’s chamber.

There he found her sitting alone, telling up her gold, that fell around her in a shower from the wonderful purse.

But the soldier stood looking at her too long; for she turned around, and the moment she saw him she started up and cried out with all her force, “Thieves! thieves!” so that the whole court came running in and tried to seize on him. The poor soldier now began to be dreadfully frightened in his turn, and thought it was high time to make the best of his way off; so, without thinking of the ready way of traveling that his cloak gave him, he ran to the window, opened it, and jumped out; and unluckily, in his haste, his cloak caught and was left hanging, to the great joy of the princess, who knew its worth.

The poor soldier made the best of his way home to his comrades on foot, and in a very downcast mood; but the third soldier told him to keep up his heart, and took his horn and blew a merry tune. At the first blast a countless host of foot-and-horse came rushing to their aid, and they set out to make war against their enemy. The king’s palace was at once besieged, and he was told that he must give up the purse and cloak, or that not one stone should be left upon another. So the king went into his daughter’s chamber and talked with her; but she said, “Let me try first if I cannot beat them one way or another.” So she thought of a cunning scheme to over-reach them; and dressing herself out as a poor girl, with a basket on her arm, she set out by night with her maid, and went into the enemy’s camp, as if she wanted to sell trinkets.

In the morning she began to ramble about, singing ballads so beautifully that all the tents were left empty, and the soldiers ran round in crowds, and thought of nothing but hearing her sing. Among the rest came the soldier to whom the horn belonged, and as soon as she saw him she winked to her maid, who slipped slyly through the crowd, and went into his tent where it hung and stole it away. This done, they both got safely back to the palace, the besieging army went away, the three wonderful gifts were all left in the hands of the princess, and the three soldiers were as penniless and forlorn as when little Red-jacket found them in the wood.

Poor fellows! they began to think what was now to be done. “Comrades,” at last said the second soldier, who had had the purse, “we had better part; we cannot live together, let each seek his bread as well as he can.” So he turned to the right, and the other two went to the left, for they said they would rather travel together. The second soldier strayed on till he came to a wood (which happened to be the same wood where they had met with so much good luck before), and he walked on a long time till evening began to fall, when he sat down tired beneath a tree and soon fell asleep.

Morning dawned, and he was greatly delighted, on opening his eyes, to see that the tree was laden with the most beautiful apples. He was hungry enough, so he soon plucked and ate first one, then a second, then a third apple. A strange feeling came over his nose; when he put the apple to his mouth something was in the way. He felt it—it was his nose, that grew and grew till it hung down to his breast. It did not stop there—still it grew and grew. “Heavens!” thought he, “when will it have done growing?” And well might he ask, for by this time it reached the ground as he sat on the grass—and thus it kept creeping on till he could not bear its weight or raise himself up; and it seemed as if it would never end, for already it stretched its enormous length all through the wood, over hill and dale.

Meantime his comrades were journeying on, till on a sudden one of them stumbled against something. “What can that be?” said the other. They looked, and could think of nothing that it was like but a nose. “We will follow it and find its owner, however,” said they. So they traced it up, till at last they found their poor comrade, lying stretched along under the apple-tree.

What was to be done? They tried to carry him, but in vain. They caught an ass that was passing, and raised him upon its back; but it was soon tired of carrying such a load. So they sat down in despair, when before long up came their old acquaintance, the dwarf with the red jacket. “Why, how now, friend,” said he, laughing: “well, I must find a cure for you, I see.” So he told them to gather a pear from another tree that grew close by, and the nose would come right again. No time was lost; and the nose, to the poor soldier’s joy, was soon brought to its proper size.