Chapter VI: Front Matter (6)

Back they went to the king, but instead of handing over half his kingdom, as he had promised, his majesty told the little tailor that there was still another brave deed for him to do before he got the princess for his bride.

“Just name it, then; I’m more than ready,” was the man’s reply.

“You are to kill the famous unicorn that is running wild in the forest and doing so much damage. When this is done you shall have your reward at once.”

“No trouble at all, your majesty. I’ll get rid of him in a twinkling.”

He made the ten men wait for him at the entrance to the wood, as they had done the first time, and taking a stout rope and a saw he entered the forest alone.

Up came the unicorn, but just as it was about to rush at the man he darted behind a big tree.

The unicorn dashed with such force against the tree that its horn was caught quite fast and it was kept a prisoner.

Taking his rope, he tied it tightly round the animal, and, after sawing off the horn, back he went to the palace, leading the unicorn by his side.

But even then the king was not satisfied, and he made the little tailor catch a wild boar that had been seen wandering in the woods.

He took a party of huntsmen with him, but again he made them wait on the outskirts of the forest while he went on by himself.

The wild boar made a dash at the little tailor, but the man was too quick for it. He slipped into a little building close by, with the animal at his heels. Then, catching sight of a small window, he forced his way out into the forest again, and while the boar, who was too big and clumsy to follow, stood gazing at the spot where he had disappeared, the tailor ran round and closed the door, keeping the animal quite secure inside. Then he called the hunters, who shot the boar and carried the body back to the palace.

This time the king was obliged to keep his promise; so the little tailor became a prince, and a grand wedding they had, too.

When they had been married for about a couple of years, the princess once overheard her husband talking in his sleep.

“Boy, if you have put a patch on that waistcoat, take the Lord Mayor’s coat home at once, or I’ll box your ears,” he said.

“Oh, dear,” cried the princess, “to think that I’ve married a common tailor! Whatever can I do to get rid of him?”

So she told her father the story, and the king said she need not worry, for he would find a way out of the difficulty. She was to leave the door open that night, and while the tailor was sleeping, the king’s servants should steal into the room, bind the tailor, and take him away to be killed.

The princess promised to see that everything was in readiness, and she tripped about all day with a very light heart.

She little knew that one of the tailor’s servants had overheard their cruel plot, and carried the news straight to his master.

That night, when the princess thought her husband was sleeping fast, she crept to the door and opened it.

To her great terror, the tailor began to speak.

“Boy, take the Lord Mayor’s coat home, or I’ll box your ears. Haven’t I killed seven at one blow? Haven’t I slain two giants, a unicorn, and a wild boar? What do I care for the men who are standing outside my door at this moment?”

At these words off flew the men as though they had been shot from a gun, and no more attempts were ever made on his life. So the princess had to make the best of a bad job.

He lived on, and when the old king died he ascended the throne in his stead. So the brave little tailor became ruler over the whole kingdom; and his motto throughout his whole life was, “Seven at one blow.”

_The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership_

A cat having made the acquaintance of a mouse, told her so much of the great love and affection that he had for her, that the mouse at last consented to live in the same house with him, and to have their domestic affairs in common. “But we must provide for the winter,” said the cat, “or we shall be starved; you, little mouse, cannot go everywhere looking for food, or you will meet with an accident.”

This advice was followed, and a pot was brought with some grease in it. However, when they had got it, they could not imagine where it should be put; but at last, after a long consideration, the cat said: “I know no better place to put it than in the church, for there no one dares to steal anything; we will set it beneath the organ, and not touch it till we really want it.”

So the pot was put away in safety; but not long afterward the cat began to wish for it again, so he spoke to the mouse and said: “I have to tell you that I am asked by my aunt to stand godfather to a little son, white with brown marks, whom she has just brought into the world, and so I must go to the christening. Let me go out to-day, and do you stop at home and keep house.”

“Certainly,” answered the mouse; “pray, go; and if you eat anything nice, think of me; I would also willingly drink a little of the sweet red christening-wine.”

But, alas! it was all a story; for the cat had no aunt, and had not been asked to stand godfather to any one. He went straight to the church, crept up to the grease pot, and licked it till he had eaten off the top; then he took a walk on the roofs of the houses in the town, thinking over his situation, and now and then stretching himself in the sun and stroking his whiskers as often as he thought of his meal. When it was evening he went home again, and the mouse said: “So you have come at last; what a charming day you must have had!”

“Yes,” answered the cat; “it went off very well!”

“What have you named the kitten?” asked the mouse.

“_Top-off!_” said the cat very quickly.

“_Top-off!_” replied the mouse; “that is a curious and remarkable name; is it common in your family?”

“What does that matter?” said the cat; “it is not worse than Crumb-stealer, as your children are called.”

Not long afterward the cat felt the same longing as before, and said to the mouse: “You must oblige me by taking care of the house once more by yourself; I am again asked to stand godfather, and, since the youngster has a white ring round his neck, I cannot get off the invitation.” So the good little mouse consented, and the cat crept away behind the wall to the church again, and ate half the contents of the grease-pot. “Nothing tastes better than what one eats by one’s self,” said he, quite contented with his day’s work; and when he came home the mouse asked how this child was named.

“_Half-out_,” answered the cat.

“_Half-out!_ What do you mean? I never heard such a name before in my life; I will wager anything it is not in the calendar,” but the cat replied nothing.

Pussy’s mouth soon began to water again at the recollection of the feasting. “All good things come in threes,” said he to the mouse. “I am again required to be godfather; this child is quite black, and has little white claws, but not a single white hair on his body; such a thing only happens once in two years, so pray excuse me this time.”

“_Top-off! Half-out!_” answered the mouse; “those are such curious names, they make me a bit suspicious.”

“Ah!” replied the cat, “there you sit in your gray coat and long tail, thinking nonsense. That comes of never going out.”

The mouse busied herself during the cat’s absence in putting the house in order, but meanwhile greedy puss licked the grease-pot clean out. “When it is all done one will rest in peace,” thought he to himself, and as soon as night came he went home fat and tired. The mouse, however, again asked what name the third child had received. “It will not please you any better,” answered the cat, “for he is called _All-out_.”

“_All-out!_” exclaimed the mouse; “well, that is certainly the most curious name by far. I have never yet seen it in print. _All-out!_ What can that mean?” and, shaking her head, she rolled herself up and went to sleep.

After that nobody else asked the cat to stand godfather; but the winter had arrived, and nothing more was to be picked up out of doors; so the mouse bethought herself of their store of provision, and said, “Come, friend cat, we will go to our grease-pot which we laid by; it will taste well now.”

“Yes, indeed,” replied the cat; “it will taste as well as if you stroked your tongue against the window.”

So they set out on their journey, and when they arrived at the church the pot stood in its old place—but it was empty! “Ah,” said the mouse, “I see what has happened; now I know you are indeed a faithful friend. You have eaten the whole as you stood godfather; first _Top-off_, then _Half-out_, then——”

“Will you be quiet?” cried the cat. “Not a word, or I’ll eat you.” But the poor mouse had “_All-out_” at her tongue’s end, and had scarcely uttered it when the cat made a spring, seized her in his mouth, and swallowed her.

This happens every day in the world.

_Old Sultan_

A certain peasant had a trusty dog called Sultan, who had grown quite old in his service, and had lost all his teeth, so that he could not hold anything fast. One day the peasant stood with his wife at the house door and said: “This morning I shall shoot old Sultan, for he is no longer of any use.” His wife, however, compassionating the poor animal, replied: “Well, since he has served us so long and so faithfully, I think we may very well afford him food for the rest of his life.” “Eh, what?” replied her husband; “you are not very clever; he has not a tooth in his head, and never a thief is afraid of him, so he must trot off. If he has served us, he has also received his dinner every day.”

The poor dog, lying stretched out in the sun not far from his master, heard all he said, and was much troubled at learning that the morrow would be his last day. He had one good friend, the wolf in the forest, to whom he slipped at evening, and complained of the sad fate which awaited him. “Be of good courage, my father,” said the wolf; “I will help you out of your trouble. I have just thought of something. Early to-morrow morning your master goes haymaking with his wife, and they will take with them their child, because no one will be left in the house, and while they are at work they will put him behind the hedge in the shade, and set you by to watch him. I will then spring out of the wood and steal away the child, and you must run after me hotly as if you were pursuing me. I will let it fall, and you shall take it back to its parents, who will then believe you have saved it, and they will be too thankful to do you any injury; and so you will come into great favor, and they will never let you want again.”

This plan pleased the dog, and it was carried out exactly as proposed. The father cried out when he saw the wolf running off with the child, but as old Sultan brought it back he was highly pleased, and stroked him, and said: “Not a hair of your head shall be touched; you shall eat your meals in comfort to the end of your days.” He then told his wife to go home and cook old Sultan some bread and broth, which would not need biting, and also to bring the pillow out of his bed, that he might give it to him for a resting-place. Henceforth old Sultan had as much as he could wish for himself; and soon afterward the wolf visited him and congratulated him on his prosperous circumstances. “But, my father,” said he slyly, “you will close your eyes if I by accident steal away a fat sheep from your master.” “Reckon not on that,” replied the dog; “my master believes me faithful; I dare not give you what you ask.” The wolf, however, thought he was not in earnest, and by night came slinking into the yard to fetch away the sheep. But the peasant, to whom the dog had communicated the design of the wolf, caught him and gave him a sound thrashing with the flail. The wolf was obliged to scamper off, but he cried out to the dog: “Wait a bit, you rascal, you shall pay for this!”

The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge the dog, that they might settle their affair in the forest. Old Sultan, however, could find no other second than a cat, who had only three legs, and, as they went out together, the poor cat limped along, holding her tail high in the air from pain. The wolf and his second were already on the spot selected, but as they saw their opponent coming they thought he was bringing a great sabre with him, because they saw in front the erect tail of the cat; and, whenever the poor animal hopped on its three legs, they thought nothing else than that he was going to take up a great stone to throw at them. Both of them, thereupon, became very nervous, and the boar crept into a heap of dead leaves, and the wolf climbed up a tree. As soon as the dog and cat arrived on the spot they wondered what had become of their adversary. The wild boar, however, had not quite concealed himself, for the tips of his ears were sticking out; and, while the cat was considering them attentively, the boar twitched one of them, and the cat took it for a mouse, and, making a spring, gave it a good bite. At this the boar shook himself with a great cry, and ran away, calling out, “There sits the guilty one, up in the tree!” The dog and the cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was ashamed at himself for being so fearful, and, begging the dog’s pardon, entered into treaty with him.

_The Nail_

A tradesman had once transacted a good day’s business at a fair, disposed of all his goods, and filled his purse with gold and silver. He prepared afterward to return, in order to reach home by the evening, so he strapped his portmanteau, with the money in it, upon his horse’s back, and rode off. At noon he baited in a small town, and as he was about to set out again, the stable-boy who brought his horse said to him: “Sir, a nail is wanting in the shoe on the left hind foot of your animal.”

“Let it be wanting,” replied the tradesman; “I am in a hurry and the iron will doubtless hold the six hours I have yet to travel.”

Late in the afternoon he had to dismount again, and feed his horse, and at this place also the boy came and told him that a nail was wanting in one of the shoes, and asked him whether he should take the horse to a farrier. “No, no, let it be!” replied the master; “it will last out the couple of hours that I have now to travel; I am in haste.” So saying he rode off; but his horse soon began to limp, and from limping it came to stumbling, and presently the beast fell down and broke its leg. Thereupon the tradesman had to leave his unfortunate horse lying on the road, to unbuckle the portmanteau, and to walk home with it upon his shoulder, where he arrived at last late at night.

“And all this misfortune,” said he to himself, “is owing to the want of a nail. More haste, the less speed!”

_The Fox and the Horse_

There was once a farmer who had a horse which served him faithfully till he was too old to work any longer, and then his master would not give him anything to eat, but said: “I cannot really find any use for you now, but still I mean you well, and so, if you will show yourself strong enough to bring home a lion, I will requite you; but now you must make yourself scarce in this stable!” So saying, the farmer drove the poor horse out; and he went with drooping head toward the forest to shelter himself there from the weather. In among the trees he met a fox, who asked him why he looked so careworn and walked so downcast.

“Alas!” said the horse, “avarice and fidelity dwell not in the same house together; my master has forgotten all the services which I have rendered him for so many years, and, because I am unable now to work any longer, he will not give me any fodder, but has driven me out of the stable.”

“Without any hope?” inquired the fox.

“The hope is slight enough,” replied the horse; “he said that if I could manage to bring him back a lion he would receive me; but he knows well I cannot do that.”

“Then I will help you,” replied the fox; “now lie down and stretch yourself out, and do not stir, so that you may appear dead.”

The horse, accordingly, did as he was bid, and the fox went to the lion, whose den was not very far off, and said to him, “Near here lies a dead horse; come with me and you may make a capital meal.” The lion accompanied the fox, and when they came to the horse the fox said: “Hist! listen to what I am about to say; you can have this beast at your convenience; I will bind it to you by the tail, and you shall then drag it away to your den, and devour it at your leisure.” This advice pleased the lion, and, in order that the fox might knot the horse’s tail fast to him, he stood with his back toward it, quite still. The fox, however, cunningly tied the lion’s legs together with the hairs of the horse’s tail, and pulled and knotted all so carefully that no strength could have divided it. As soon as his work was finished the fox tapped the horse on the shoulder, and cried, “Drag, my friend, drag!” The horse jumped up at once and drew the lion away with him. The beast soon began to roar, so that all the birds in the forest flew away in terror, but the horse let him roar while he quietly dragged him to his master’s door. Now, when the farmer saw this proof of the fidelity of his horse, he thought better of his former resolution, and said to the faithful animal: “You shall remain with me now, and live at your ease.” And so the good horse had good meals and good treatment till he died.

_The Giant and the Tailor_

A certain tailor, who was a large boaster but a very small performer, took it once into his head to go and look about him in the world. As soon as he could, he left his workshop, and traveled away over hills and valleys, now on this road, and now on that; but still onward. After he had gone some way, he perceived in the distance a steep mountain, and behind it a lofty tower, which rose from the midst of a wild, dense forest. “Good gracious!” cried the tailor, “what is this?” and driven by his curiosity, he went rapidly toward the place. But he opened his mouth and eyes wide enough when he got nearer; for the tower had legs, and sprang in a trice over the steep hill, and stood up, a mighty giant, before the tailor. “What are you about here, you puny fly-legs?” asked the giant in a voice which rumbled on all sides like thunder.

“I am trying to earn a piece of bread in this forest,” whispered the tailor.

“Well, then, it is time you entered my service,” said the giant fiercely.

“If it must be so, why not?” said the tailor humbly; “but what wage shall I have?” “What wage shall you have?” repeated the giant contemptuously; “listen and I will tell you: every year, three hundred and sixty-five days, and one besides, if it be leap-year. Is that right?”

“Quite,” said the tailor; but thought to himself: “One must cut according to his cloth; I will seek to make myself free very soon.”

“Go, little rascal, and fetch me a glass of water!” cried the giant.

“Why not the whole well, and its spring, too?” said the tailor, but fetched as he was bid. “What! the well and its spring, too?” bellowed the giant, who was rather cowardly and weak, and so began to be afraid, thinking to himself: “This fellow can do more than roast apples; he has a heap of courage. I must take care, or he will be too much of a servant for me!” So, when the tailor returned with the water, the giant sent him to fetch a couple of bundles of faggots from the forest, and bring them home. “Why not the whole forest at one stroke, every tree, young and old, knotty and smooth?” asked the tailor, and went away. “What! the whole forest, and the well, too, and its spring!” murmured the frightened giant in his beard; and he began to be still more afraid, and believed that the tailor was too great a man for him, and not fit for his servant. However, when the tailor returned with his load of faggots, the giant told him to shoot two or three wild boars for their supper. “Why not rather a thousand at one shot, and the rest afterward?” cried the boaster. “What, what!” gasped the cowardly giant, terribly frightened. “Oh, well! that is enough for to-day; you may go to sleep now!”

The poor giant, however, was so very much afraid of the little tailor that he could not close his eyes all the night, but tossed about thinking how to get rid of his servant, whom he regarded as an enchanter conspiring against his life. With time comes counsel. The following morning the giant and the dwarf went together to a marsh where a great many willow-trees were growing. When they got there the giant said: “Seat yourself on one of these willow rods, tailor; on my life I only wish to see if you are in a condition to bend it down.”

The boasting tailor climbed the tree, and perched himself on a bough, and then, holding his breath, he made himself heavy enough thereby, to bend the tree down. Soon, however, he had to take breath again, and immediately, having been unfortunate enough to come without his goose in his pocket, the bough flew up, and to the great joy of the giant, carried the tailor with it so high into the air that he went out of sight. And whether he has since fallen down again, or is yet flying about in the air, I am unable to tell you satisfactorily.

_The Spider and the Flea_

A spider and a Flea dwelt together in one house, and brewed their beer in an egg-shell. One day, when the Spider was stirring it up, she fell in and scalded herself. Thereupon the Flea began to scream. And then the door asked: “Why are you screaming, Flea?”

“Because little Spider has scalded herself in the beer-tub,” replied she.

Thereupon the door began to creak as if it were in pain; and a broom, which stood in the corner, asked, “What are you creaking for, door?”

“May I not creak?” it replied:

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps.”

So the broom began to sweep industriously, and presently a little cart came by, and asked the reason. “May I not sweep?” replied the broom:

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,”—

Thereupon the little cart said: “So will I run,” and began to run very fast, past a heap of ashes, which cried out: “Why do you run, little cart?”

“Because,” replied the cart:

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps.”

“Then,” said the ashes, “I will burn furiously.” Now, next the ashes there grew a tree, which asked: “Little heap, why do you burn?”

“Because,” was the reply:

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps;
The little cart runs on so fast,”—

Thereupon the tree cried, “I will shake myself!” and went on shaking till all its leaves fell off.

A little girl passing by with a water-pitcher saw it shaking, and asked: “Why do you shake yourself, little tree?”

“Why may I not?” said the tree:

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps;
The little cart runs on so fast,
And the ashes burn.”

Then the maiden said: “If so, I will break my pitcher”; and she threw it down and broke it.

At this the streamlet, from which she drew the water, asked: “Why do you break your pitcher, my little girl?”

“Why may I not?” she replied; for

“The little Spider’s scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps;
The little cart runs on so fast,
And the ashes burn;
The little tree shakes down its leaves—
Now it is my turn!”

“Ah, then,” said the streamlet, “now must I begin to flow.” And it flowed and flowed along, in a great stream, which kept getting bigger and bigger, until at last it swallowed up the little girl, the little tree, the ashes, the cart, the broom, the door, the Flea, and, last of all, the Spider, all together.

_The Little Shepherd Boy_

Once upon a time there was a little shepherd boy who was famed far and wide for the wise answers which he gave to all questions. Now the king of the country heard of this lad, but he would not believe what was said about him, so the boy was ordered to come to court. When he arrived the king said to him: “If you can give me answers to each of the three questions which I will now put to you, I will bring you up as my own child, and you shall live here with me in my palace.”

“What are these three questions?” asked the boy.

“The first is, How many drops of water are there in the sea?”

“My lord king,” replied the shepherd boy, “let all the waters be stopped up on the earth, so that not one drop shall run into the sea before I count it, and then I will tell you how many drops there are in the sea!”

“The second question,” said the king, “is: How many stars are there in the sky?”

“Give me a large sheet of paper,” said the boy; and then he made in it with a pin so many minute holes that they were far too numerous to see or to count, and dazzled the eyes of whomsoever looked at them. This done, he said: “So many stars are there in the sky as there are holes in this paper; now count them.” But nobody was able. Thereupon the king said: “The third question is: How many seconds are there in eternity?”

“In Lower Pomerania is situate the adamantine mountain, one mile in height, one mile in breadth, and one mile deep; and thither comes a bird once in every thousand years which rubs its beak against the hill, and, when the whole shall be rubbed away, then will the first second of eternity be gone by.”

“You have answered the three questions like a sage,” said the king, “and from henceforward you shall live with me in my palace, and I will treat you as my own child.”

_The Seven Swabians_

There were once seven Swabians in company, the first of whom was named Schulz, the second Jacky, the third Marli, the fourth Jergli, the fifth Michael, the sixth Hans, and the seventh Veitli; and they all were traveling in search of adventures, and for the performance of mighty deeds. In order that they might not be without protection, they thought fit to carry along with them a very long and strong pole. Upon this they all seven held, and in front the boldest and most courageous man, who was Schulz, walked, while the others followed behind, and Veitli was last.

One day in July, after they had traveled some distance, and had nearly entered the village where they intended to pass the night, it happened that just as they came to a large meadow a hornet or dragon-fly flew out from behind a bush and hummed about the travelers in a warlike manner. Schulz was frightened and almost let go the pole, and the perspiration stood all over his body from terror. “Listen, listen!” he cried to his companions; “I hear a trumpeting!” Jacky, who was last but one in the row, and had got I know not what into his nose, exclaimed: “Something certainly is at hand, for I can smell brimstone and powder!” At these words Schulz sprang over a hedge, in a trice, in his haste to escape, and, happening to alight on the prongs of a rake which was left in the field by the haymakers, the handle sprang up and gave him an awkward blow on the forehead. “Oh! oh! oh! woe is me!” cried Schulz; “take me prisoner, I give myself up, I surrender!” The six others thereupon jumped over the hedge too, and cried likewise: “We surrender if you surrender! we surrender if you surrender!”

At length, when they found no enemy came to bind and take them away, they saw they were deceived, and in order that the tale might not be told of them among the villagers, and they get laughed at and mocked, they took an oath among themselves never to say anything about it unless any one of them should open his mouth unawares.

After this adventure they went farther, but the second danger they met with must not be compared with the first. For after several days had elapsed their road chanced to lead them through an unplowed field where a hare was lying prone in the sun, with his ears pricked up to catch every sound, and his large, glossy eyes wide open. The seven Swabians were terribly frightened at the sight of this frightful, ferocious animal, and they took counsel together what would be the least dangerous plan to adopt, for if they fled away it was to be feared that the monster would pursue them and cut them to pieces. So they resolved to stand and have a great battle; for, said they, “Bravely dared is half won!” All seven, therefore, grasped hold of their spear, Schulz being among the foremost and Veitli hindmost. But Schulz wanted to have the spear himself, whereupon Veitli flew into a passion and broke away.

Then the rest advanced together upon the dragon, but first Schulz crossed himself devoutly and invoked the assistance of Heaven. Then he marched on, but as he approached the enemy he felt very fearful and cried in great terror: “Han! hurlehau! han! hauhel!” This awoke the hare, who sprang away quite frightened, and when Schulz saw it flee, he jumped for joy and shouted:

“Zounds, friends, what fools we are!
The frightful beast is but a hare!”

After they had recovered from their fright the seven Swabians sought new adventures, and by and by they arrived at the River Moselle, a smooth and deep water, over which there are not many bridges; so that one must cross in boats to the other side. The seven Swabians, however, were ignorant of this, and they therefore shouted to a man who was working on the other side of the river and asked him how they were to pass over. But the man did not understand what they said on account of the distance and his ignorance of their language, and so he asked in his dialect: “Wat? wat?” With this Schulz imagined the man said, “Wade, wade through the stream”; and, being foremost on the bank, he jumped into the river and began to walk across. Soon he got out of his depth and sank in the deep, driving current; but his hat was carried by the wind to the opposite shore. As it reached there a frog perched himself on it, and croaked: “Wat! wat! wat!” This noise the six other Swabians, who then reached the bank, heard, and they said to one another: “Listen! does not Schulz call us? Well, if he could wade across we can also.” With these words each one jumped into the river, but they also all sank; and so it happened that the frog caused the death of six Swabians, for nobody has heard of or seen them ever since.

_The Shreds_

Once upon a time there was a maiden who was very pretty, but lazy and careless. When she used to spin, she was so impatient that, if there chanced to be a little knot in the thread, she snapped off a long bit with it and threw the pieces down on the ground near her. Now she had a servant girl, who was industrious, and used to gather together the shreds of thread, clean them, and weave them, till she made herself a dress with them.

A certain young man had fallen in love with this lazy maiden; and their wedding-day was appointed. On the evening before, the industrious servant girl kept dancing about in her fine dress, till the bride exclaimed:

“Ah! how the girl does jump about,
Dressed in my shreds and leavings!”

When the bridegroom heard this, he asked the bride what she meant, and she told him that the maid had worked herself a dress with the shreds of thread which she had thrown away. As soon as the bridegroom heard this, and saw the difference between the laziness of his intended and the industry of her servant, he gave up the mistress and chose the maid for his wife.

_The Wolf and the Seven Kids_

There was once an old nanny-goat who had seven kids, and she was just as fond of them as a mother of her children. One day she was going into the woods to fetch some food for them, so she called them all up to her, and said:

“My dear children, I am going out into the woods. Beware of the wolf! If once he gets into the house, he will eat you up, skin, and hair, and all. The rascal often disguises himself, but you will know him by his rough voice and his black feet.”

The kids said: “Oh, we will be very careful, dear mother. You may be quite happy about us.”

Bleating tenderly, the old goat went off to her work. Before long, some one knocked at the door, and cried:

“Open the door, dear children! Your mother has come back and brought something for each of you.”

But the kids knew quite well by the voice that it was the wolf.

“We won’t open the door!” they cried. “You are not our mother. She has a soft, gentle voice; but yours is rough, and we are quite sure that you are the wolf.”

So he went away to a shop and bought a lump of chalk, which he ate, and it made his voice quite soft. He went back, knocked at the door again, and cried:

“Open the door, dear children. Your mother has come back and brought something for each of you.”

But the wolf had put one of his paws on the window-sill, where the kids saw it, and cried:

“We won’t open the door. Our mother has not got a black foot as you have; you are the wolf.”

Then the wolf ran to a baker and said: “I have bruised my foot; please put some dough on it.” And when the baker had put some dough on his foot, he ran to the miller and said: “Strew some flour on my foot.”

The miller thought, “The old wolf is going to take somebody in,” and refused.

But the wolf said: “If you don’t do it, I will eat you up.”

So the miller was frightened, and whitened the wolf’s paws. People are like that, you know.

Now the wretch went for the third time to the door, and knocked and said:

“Open the door, children. Your dear mother has come home, and has brought something for each of you out of the wood.”

The kids cried: “Show us your feet first, that we may be sure you are our mother.”

He put his paws on the window-sill, and when the kids saw that these were white, they believed all he said and opened the door.

Alas! it was the wolf who walked in. They were terrified, and tried to hide themselves. One ran under the table, the second jumped into bed, the third into the oven, the fourth ran into the kitchen, the fifth got into the cupboard, the sixth into the washtub, and the seventh hid in the tall clock-case. But the wolf found them all but one, and made short work of them. He swallowed one after the other, except the youngest one in the clock-case, whom he did not find. When he had satisfied his appetite, he took himself off, and lay down in a meadow outside, where he soon fell asleep.

Not long after the old nanny-goat came back from the woods. Oh, what a terrible sight met her eyes! The house door was wide open, table, chairs, and benches were overturned, the washing-bowl was smashed to atoms, the covers and pillows torn from the bed. She searched all over the house for her children, but nowhere were they to be found. She called them by name, one by one, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a tiny voice cried:

“I am here, dear mother, hidden in the clock-case.”

She brought him out, and he told her that the wolf had come and devoured all the others.

You may imagine how she wept over her children.

At last, in her grief, she went out, and the youngest kid ran by her side. When they went into the meadow, there lay the wolf under a tree, making the branches shake with his snores. They examined him from every side, and they could plainly see movements within his distended body.

“Ah, heavens!” thought the goat, “is it possible that my poor children, whom he ate for his supper, should be still alive?”

She sent the kid running to the house to fetch scissors, needles, and thread. Then she cut a hole in the monster’s side, and, hardly had she begun, when a kid popped out its head, and as soon as the hole was big enough, all six jumped out, one after the other, all alive, and without having suffered the least injury, for, in his greed, the monster had swallowed them whole. You may imagine the mother’s joy. She hugged them, and skipped about like a tailor on his wedding day. At last she said:

“Go and fetch some big stones, children, and we will fill up the greedy beast’s body while he is asleep.”

Then the seven kids brought a lot of stones, as fast as they could carry them, and stuffed the wolf with them till he could hold no more. The old mother quickly sewed him up, without his having noticed anything, or even moved.

At last, when the wolf had had his sleep out, and got upon his legs, he found he was very thirsty, and wished to go to the spring to drink. But as soon as he began to move, the stones began to tumble about in his body, and he cried out:

“What rattles, what rattles
Against my poor bones?
Surely not little goats,
But only big stones!”

And when he came to the brook he stooped down to drink, and the heavy stones made him lose his balance so that he fell, and sank beneath the water.

As soon as the seven little goats saw this, they came running up, singing aloud, “The wolf is dead! the wolf is dead!” and they danced for joy around their mother by the side of the brook.

_The Elves and the Shoemaker_

There was once a shoemaker who, through no fault of his own, had become so poor that at last he had only leather enough left for one pair of shoes. At evening he cut out the shoes which he intended to begin upon the next morning, and since he had a good conscience, he lay down quietly, said his prayers, and fell asleep.

In the morning when he had prayed, as usual, and was preparing to sit down to work, he found the pair of shoes standing finished on his table. He was amazed, and could not understand it in the least.

He took the shoes in his hand to examine them more closely. They were so neatly sewn that not a stitch was out of place, and were as good as the work of a master-hand.

Soon after a purchaser came in, and as he was much pleased with the shoes, he paid more than the ordinary price for them, so that the shoemaker was able to buy leather for two pairs with the money.

He cut them out in the evening, and next day, with fresh courage was about to go to work; but he had no need to, for when he got up, the shoes were finished, and buyers were not lacking. These gave him so much money that he was able to buy leather for four pairs of shoes.

Early next morning he found the four pairs finished, and so it went on; what he cut out at evening was finished in the morning, so that he was soon again in comfortable circumstances, and became a well-to-do man.

Now it happened one evening, not long before Christmas, when he had cut out shoes as usual, that he said to his wife: “How would it be if we were to sit up to-night to see who it is that lends us such a helping hand?”

The wife agreed, lighted a candle, and they hid themselves in the corner of the room behind the clothes which were hanging there.

At midnight came two little naked men, who sat down at the shoemaker’s table, took up the cut-out work, and began with their tiny fingers to stitch, sew, and hammer so neatly and quickly, that the shoemaker could not believe his eyes. They did not stop till everything was quite finished, and stood complete on the table; then they ran swiftly away.

The next day the wife said: “The little men have made us rich, and we ought to show our gratitude. They run about with nothing on, and must freeze with cold. Now I will make them little shirts, coats, waistcoats, and hose, and will even knit them stout stockings, and you shall make them each a pair of shoes.”

The husband agreed, and at evening, when they had everything ready, they laid out the presents on the table, and hid themselves to see how the little men would behave.

At midnight they came skipping in, and were about to set to work; but, instead of the leather ready cut out, they found the charming little clothes.

At first they were surprised, then excessively delighted. With the greatest speed they put on and smoothed down the pretty clothes, singing:

“Now we’re dressed so fine and neat,
Why cobble more for others’ feet?”

Then they hopped and danced about, and leaped over chairs and tables and out at the door. Henceforward, they came back no more, but the shoemaker fared well as long as he lived, and had good luck in all his undertakings.

_King Wren_

Once upon a time the cuckoo gave a big tea-party. It was a grand affair, I can tell you. Every bird of note was present, from the eagle down to the sparrow. All the finches were there, the larks, crows, and swallows; so how they managed to seat them all is more than I can tell.

Now, the cuckoo was a wise old bird, and she never took a step of this sort without a reason. You sometimes hear people say, “As silly as a cuckoo,” but you may take my word for it, it is only because they know nothing at all about her.

Well, a bright idea had occurred to the cuckoo, and it was just this: She thought it was high time the birds chose a king of their own. If they had a king, you see, they might in time be able to have a “Court Circular,” which would sound very grand. Besides, who knew but that in the future some of her own family might even marry royalty? Yes, it was a good idea, she thought, but the other birds would have to be consulted first.

So she gave a big tea-party, and fed them all up with the finest worms and dainties to be had, just to put them into a good temper.

Even the hungry sparrow finished eating at last—and you have no idea what his appetite was like!—and then the cuckoo broke the news gently that she thought they ought to have a king to manage their affairs for them.

Now this caused no end of commotion. And there they sat—fathers, mothers, uncles, and cousins, all talking away at the same time.

Just then the cock and hen passed by, taking a little airing.

You must know that they had heard nothing about the teaparty. They were just the cock and hen, and it did not matter much what they thought; so they did not get an invitation.

“Wat! wat!” cried the hen, when she heard the dreadful din. Of course the cock understood her language, and knew that she was asking what was going on.

“I’ll find out, my dear,” he answered, and he inquired from a fat, green frog.

“They want to choose a king over the birds,” he told the hen, a minute after.

“Stuff and nonsense!” clucked the hen; only it did not sound quite like that, because she spoke in her own language, you see.

Well, the end of it all was that everybody was in favor of a king, save the plover, and he cried: “I have been free all my life, and I’ll die free!” Then away he flew to a dismal swamp, and was seen no more.

So they agreed to meet again next morning, if it was fine. Their king was to be the bird who could fly higher than all the rest, and they wanted a fine day so that nobody could say afterward, “I could have flown much higher, only it was so windy,” or something of the sort.

The next day was perfect, so they all gathered together in a big meadow. When the cuckoo had counted “Three,” they all rose up with one accord into the air, making such a cloud of dust that for a moment you could not see a thing.

Higher and higher they flew, but one by one the little birds had to give up, and in the end the eagle was the only bird left flying, and he looked as though he had reached the sun itself.

But a tiny little bird had joined them unasked, and he had not even a name.

Nobody noticed him hide himself among the feathers in the eagle’s back; so when the cuckoo had counted three, up he went with the rest, although they did not know it.

Now, when the eagle saw that all the others had given up, he, too, began to descend. Then out flew the little bird without a name, and up he went, much higher still.

“I am king! I am king!” cried the eagle, when he reached the ground.

“Not at all,” replied the little bird without a name, “for I have flown higher still,” and then down he came.

“I am king! I am king!” he chirped, as soon as he got his breath again.

“You crafty little creature!” they shouted, with one voice. “We will have another test, and a fair one this time.”

So the bird who could fall deepest into the earth was to be their king, they said.

Well, the cock set to work and began to grub a hole in the ground, while the duck jumped down into a grave; but unluckily she sprained her foot, and she waddled off, saying: “Bad work! Bad work!”

But the little bird without a name crept right into a mouse-hole, and cried shrilly:

“I am king! I am king!”

“Then we will show you how we treat our royalty!” cried the angry birds. “We will keep you in the mouse-hole and starve you.”

So they set the owl to keep watch over the hole during the night, and if he let the bird go he was to be put to death on the spot. The others were all so tired and weary that they flew home and went to bed.

Now, when he had stared into the hole for two whole hours, the poor owl began to feel very sleepy. So he went to sleep with one eye and watched intently with the other, and all went well for a time. But as luck would have it, when he shut one eye, after a while, he forgot to open the other, and you may be sure the little bird without a name soon made his escape from his prison.

After that the poor owl never dared show his face again by day, for fear the birds should put him to death. He flies about all night long, and he is a great enemy of the little mice because they make such—to him—unfortunate holes.

As for that little bird without a name, he did not feel very safe either, so he always hid in the hedges, and when he felt pretty secure he would cry out: “I am king! I am king!”

In time the other birds grew to call him the “Hedge king,” just for scorn, and that means “Wren.” That is how he came by his name.

_Why the Bear has a Stumpy Tail_

One winter’s day the bear met the fox, who came slinking along with a string of fish he had stolen.

“Hi! stop a minute! Where did you get those from?” demanded the bear.

“Oh, my lord Bruin, I’ve been out fishing and caught them,” said the fox.

So the bear had a mind to learn to fish, too, and bade the fox tell him how he was to set about it.

“Oh, it is quite easy,” answered the fox, “and soon learned. You’ve only got to go upon the ice, and cut a hole and stick your tail down through it, and hold it there as long as you can. You’re not to mind if it smarts a little; that’s when the fish bite. The longer you hold it there, the more fish you’ll get; and then all at once out with it, with a cross pull sideways and a strong pull, too.”

Well, the bear did as the fox said, and though he felt very cold, and his tail smarted very much, he kept it a long, long time down in the hole, till at last it was frozen in, though of course he did not know that. Then he pulled it out with a strong pull, and it snapped short off, and that’s why Bruin goes about with a stumpy tail to this day!

_Three Ways to Build a House_