by Jacob Grimm
When Tom Thumb heard his Father’s voice, he called out: ‘Dear Father, I am here, inside the Wolf’s body.’
Full of joy, his Father cried, ‘Heaven be praised! our dear child is found again,’ and he bade his wife throw aside the scythe that it might not injure Tom.
Then he gathered himself together, and struck the Wolf a blow on the head, so that it fell down lifeless. Then with knives and shears they ripped up the body, and took their little boy out.
‘Ah,’ said his Father, ‘what trouble we have been in about you.’
‘Yes, Father, I have travelled about the world, and I am thankful to breathe fresh air again.’
‘Wherever have you been?’ they asked.
‘Down a mouse-hole, in a Cow’s stomach, and in a Wolf’s maw,’ he answered; ‘and now I shall stay with you.’
‘And we will never sell you again, for all the riches in the world,’ they said, kissing and fondling their dear child.
Then they gave him food and drink, and had new clothes made for him, as his own had been spoilt in his travels.
Rumpelstiltskin
There was once a Miller who was very poor, but lie had a beautiful daughter. Now, it fell out that he had occasion to speak with the King, and, in order to give himself an air of importance, he said: ‘I have a daughter who can spin gold out of straw.’
The King said to the Miller; ‘That is an art in which I am much, interested. If your daughter is as skilful, as you say she is, bring her to my castle to-morrow, and I will put her to the test.’
Accordingly, when the girl was brought to the castle, the King conducted her to a chamber which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and winder, and said, ‘Now, set to work, and if between to-night and to-morrow at dawn you have not spun this straw into gold you must die.’ Thereupon, he carefully locked the door of the chamber, and she remained alone.
There sat the unfortunate Miller’s daughter, and for the life of her did not know what to do. She had not the least idea how to spin, straw into gold, and she became more and more distressed, until at last she began to weep. Then all at once the door sprang open, and in stepped a little Mannikin, who said: ‘Good evening, Mistress Miller, what are you weeping so for?’
‘Alas!’ answered the Maiden, ‘I’ve got to spin gold out of straw, and don’t know how to do it.’
Then the Mannikin said, ‘What will you give me if I spin it for you?’
‘My necklace,’ said the Maid.
The little Man took the necklace, sat down before the spinning-wheel, and whir—whir—whir, in a trice the reel was full.
Then he fixed another reel, and whir—whir—whir, thrice round, and that too was full; and so it went on until morning, when all the straw was spun and all the reels were full of gold.
Immediately at sunrise the King came, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and much pleased, but his mind became only the more avaricious. So he had the Miller’s daughter taken to another chamber, larger than the former one, and full of straw, and he ordered her to spin it also in one night, as she valued her life.
The Maiden was at her wit’s end, and began to weep. Then again the door sprang open, and the little Mannikin appeared, and said, ‘What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?’
‘The ring off my finger,’ answered the Maiden.
Then all at once the door sprang open, and in stepped a little Mannikin.
The little man took the ring, began to whir again at the wheel, and had by morning spun all the straw into gold.
The King was delighted at sight of the masses of gold, but was not even yet satisfied. So he had the Miller’s daughter taken to a still larger chamber, full of straw, and said, ‘This must you to-night spin into gold, but if you succeed you shall become my Queen.’ ‘Even if she is only a Miller’s daughter,’ thought he, ‘I shan’t find a richer woman in the whole world.’
When the girl was alone the little Man came again, and. said for the third time, ‘What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time?’
‘I have nothing more that I can give,’ answered, the girl.
‘Well, promise me your first child if you become Queen.’
‘Who knows what may happen,’ thought the Miller’s daughter; but she did not see any other way of getting out of the difficulty, so she promised the little Man what he demanded, and in return he spun the straw into gold once more.
When the King came in the morning, and found everything as he had wished, he celebrated his marriage with her, and the Miller’s daughter became Queen.
About a year afterwards a beautiful child was born, but the Queen had forgotten all about the little Man. However, he suddenly entered her chamber, and said, ‘Now, give me what you promised.’
The Queen was terrified, and offered the little Man all the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her keep the child. Rut the Mannikin said, ‘No; I would rather have some living thing than all the treasures of the world.’ Then the Queen began, to moan, and weep to such an extent that the little Man felt sorry for her. ‘I will give you three days,’ said he, ‘and if within that time you discover my name you shall keep the child.’
Then during the night the Queen called to mind all the names that she had ever heard, and sent a messenger all over the country to inquire far and wide what other names there were. When the little Man came on the next day, she began, with Caspar, Melchoir, Balzer, and mentioned all the names which, she knew, one after the other; but at every one the little Man said: ‘No; that’s not my name.’
The second day she had inquiries made all round the neighbourhood for the names of people living there, and suggested to the little Man all the most unusual, and strange names.
Round the fire an indescribably ridiculous little man was leaping, hopping on one leg, and singing.
‘Perhaps your name is Cowribs, Spindleshanks, or Spiderlegs?’
But he answered every time, ‘No; that’s not my name.’
On the third day the messenger came back, and said: ‘I haven’t been able to find any new names, but as I came round the corner of a wood on a lofty mountain, where the Fox says good-night to the Hare, I saw a little house, and in front of the house a fire was burning; and around the fire an indescribably ridiculous little man was leaping, hopping on one leg, and. singing:
“ To-day I bake; to-morrow I brew my beer;
The next day I will bring the Queen’s child here.
Ah! lucky ‘tis that not a soul doth know
That Rumpelstiltskin is my name, ho! ho!”’
Then you can imagine how delighted, the Queen was when she heard the name, and when presently afterwards the little Han came in and asked, ‘Now, your Majesty, what is my name?’ at first she asked:
‘Is your name Tom?’
‘No.’
‘Is it Dick?’
‘No.’
‘Is it, by chance, Rumpelstiltskin?’
‘The devil told you that! The devil told you that!’ shrieked the little Man; and in his rage stamped his right foot into the ground so deep that he sank up to his waist.
Then, in his passion, he seized his left leg with both hands, and tore himself asunder in the middle.
The Twelve Huntsmen
There was once a Prince, who was betrothed to a Maiden, the daughter of a King, whom he loved very much. One day when they were together, and very happy, a messenger came from the Prince’s father, who was lying ill, to summon him home as he wished to see him before he died. He said to his beloved, ‘I must go away, and leave you now; but I give you this ring as a keepsake. When I am King, I will come and fetch you away.’
Then he rode off, and when he got home he found his father on his death-bed. His father said, ‘My dear son, I wanted to see you once more before I die. Promise to marry the bride I have chosen for you,’ and he named a certain Princess.
His son was very sad, and without reflecting promised to do what his father wished, and thereupon the Ki
ng closed his eyes and died.
Now, when the Prince had been proclaimed King, and the period of mourning was past, the time came when he had to keep his promise to his father. He made his offer to the Princess, and it was accepted. His betrothed heard of this, and grieved so much over his faithlessness that she very nearly died. The King her father asked, ‘Dear child, why are you so sad? You shall have whatever you desire.’
She thought for a moment, then said, ‘Dear father, I want eleven, maidens all exactly like me in face, figure, and height.’
The King said, ‘If it is possible, your wish shall be fulfilled.’
Then he caused a search to be made all over his kingdom, till the eleven maidens were found, all exactly like his daughter. The Princess ordered twelve huntsmen’s dresses to be made, which she commanded the maidens to wear, putting on the twelfth herself. Then she took leave of her father, and rode away with the maidens to the court of her former bridegroom whom she loved so dearly. She asked him if he wanted any Huntsmen, and whether he would take them all into his service. The King did not recognise her, but, as they ‘were all so handsome, he said Yes, he would engage them. So they all entered the King’s service.
Now, the King had a Lion which was a wonderful creature, for he knew all secret and hidden things. He said to the King one evening, ‘You fancy you have twelve Huntsmen there, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said the King.
‘You are mistaken,’ said the Lion. ‘They are twelve maidens.’
The King answered, ‘That can’t be true! How can you prove it?’
‘Oh, have some peas strewn in your ante-room to-morrow, and you will soon see. Men have a firm tread, and when they walk on. peas they don’t move; but maidens trip and trot and slide, and make the peas roll about.’
The King was pleased with the Lion’s advice, and ordered the peas to be strewn on the floor.
There was, however, a servant of the King who favoured the Huntsmen, and when he heard that they were to be put to this test, he went and told them all about it, and said, ‘The Lion is going to prove to the King that you are maidens.’
The Princess thanked him, and said afterwards to her maidens, ‘Do your utmost to tread firmly on the peas.’
Next morning, when the King ordered them to be called, they walked into the ante-chamber with so firm, a tread that not a pea moved. When they had gone away, the King said to the Lion, ‘You lied; they walked just like men.’
But the lion answered, ‘They had been warned of the test, and were prepared for it. Just let twelve spinning-wheels be brought into the ante-chamber, and they will be delighted at the sight, as no man would be.’
This plan also pleased the King, and he ordered the spinning wheels. But again the kind servant warned the Huntsmen of the plan. When they were alone, the Princess said to her maidens, ‘Control yourselves, and don’t so much as look at the spinning-wheels.’
When the King next morning sent for the Huntsmen, they walked through the ante-chamber without even glancing at the spinning-wheels.
Then the King said to the Lion, ‘You lied to me. They are men; they never looked at the spinning-wheels.’
The Lion answered, ‘They knew that they were on their trial, and restrained themselves.’
But the King would not believe him any more.
The twelve Huntsmen always went with the King on his hunting expeditions, and the longer he had them, the better he liked them. Now, it happened one day when they were out hunting, that the news came of the royal bride’s approach.
When the true bride heard it, the shock was so great that her heart nearly stopped, and she fell down in a dead faint. The King, thinking something had happened to his favourite Huntsman, ran to help him, and pulled off his glove. Then he saw the ring which he had given to his first betrothed, and when he looked her in the face he recognised her. He was so moved that he kissed her, and when she opened her eyes he said, ‘Thou art mine, and I am thine, and nobody in the world shall separate us.’
Then he sent a messenger to the other bride, and begged her to go home, as he already had a wife, and he who has an old dish does not need a new one. Their marriage was then celebrated, and the Lion was taken into favour again, as, after all, he had spoken the truth.
The Old Man and his Grandson
There was once a very old Man, so old that his eyes had become dim, and his limbs trembled.
When he sat at table his hands shook so that he could hardly hold his spoon, and sometimes he spilt soup on the tablecloth. This vexed his son and daughter-in-law, and they would no longer let him have a place at the table, but made him sit in a corner by the stove.
They gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and a very scanty portion too. He sat in his place looking at the others at table, and the tears came into his eyes.
One day his trembling hands could no longer hold the bowl; it fell to the ground and broke to atoms.
The young wife scolded him, but he said nothing; then she bought him a wooden bowl for a few coppers, and he had nothing else to eat from.
As they were sitting together one day, the little Grandson, who was four years old, collected a lot of bits of wood.
‘What are you doing there?’ asked his Father.
‘I am making a little trough,’ answered the Child, ‘for you and Mother to eat out of when I am big.’
Husband and wife looked at each other for a while till their tears began to fall. Then they led the old Grandfather up to the table to take his meal with them.
And they never again said anything to him when he spilt his food.
The Little Peasant
There was once a village In which there was only one poor Peasant; all the others were very well-to-do, so they called him the Little Peasant. He had not even got a single cow, far less money with which to buy one, though he and his Wife would have been so glad to possess one.
One day he said to his Wife, ‘Look here, I have a good idea: there is my Godfather, the joiner, he shall make us a wooden calf and paint it brown, so that it looks Eke a real one, and perhaps some day It will grow into a cow.’
This plan pleased his Wife, so his Godfather, the joiner, cut out and carved the calf and painted It properly, and made its head bent down to look as if it were eating.
Next morning, when the cows were driven out, the Little Peasant called the Cowherd in, and said: ‘Look here, I have a little calf, but it is very small and has to be carried.’
The Cowherd said; ‘All right,’ took it in his arms, carried it to the meadow and put it down in the grass.
The calf stood there all day and appeared to be eating, and the Cowherd said, ‘It will soon be able to walk by itself; see how it eats.’
In the evening, when he was going home, he said to the calf, ‘If you can stand there all day and eat your fill, you may just walk home on your own legs, I don’t mean to carry you!’
But the Little Peasant was standing by his door waiting for the calf, and when the Cowherd came through the village without it, he at once asked where It was.
The Cowherd said, ‘It is still standing there; it would not stop eating to come with us.’
The Little Peasant said. ‘But I must have my little calf back.’
So they went back together to the field, but some one had stolen the calf in the meantime, and it was gone.
The Cowherd said, ‘It must have run away.’
But the Little Peasant said, ‘Nothing of the kind,’ and he took the Cowherd up before the Bailiff, who condemned him, for his carelessness, to give the Little Peasant a cow, in place of the lost calf.
So at last the Little Peasant and his Wife had the long-wished-for cow; they were delighted, but they had no fodder and could not give it anything to eat, so very soon they had to kill it.
They salted the meat, and the man went to the town to sell the hide, intending to buy another calf with the money he got for it. On the way he came to a mill, on which a raven sat with a broken wing; he took it up o
ut of pity and wrapped it in the hide. Such a storm of wind and rain came on that he could go no further, so he went into the mill to ask for shelter.
Only the Miller’s Wife was at home, and she said to the Little Peasant, ‘You may lie down in the straw there.’ And she gave him some bread and cheese to eat.
The Little Peasant ate it, and then lay down with the hide by his side.
The Miller’s Wife thought, ‘He is tired, and won’t wake up.’
Soon after a Priest came in, and he was made very welcome by the woman, who said, ‘My husband is out, so we can have a feast.’
The Little Peasant was listening, and when he heard about the feast he was much annoyed, because bread and cheese had been considered good enough for him.
The Woman then laid the table, and brought out a roast joint, salad, cake and wine. They sat down, but just as they were beginning to eat, somebody knocked at the door.
The Woman said, ‘Good heavens, that is my Husband!’
She quickly hid the joint in the oven, the wine under the pillow, the salad on the bed, and the cake under the bed, and, last of all, she hid the Priest in the linen chest. Then she opened the door for her Husband, and said, ‘Thank heaven you are back: the world might be coming to an end with such a storm as there is!’
The Miller saw the Little Peasant lying on the straw, and said, ‘What is that fellow doing there?’
‘Oh!’ said his Wife, ‘the poor fellow came in the middle of the storm and asked for shelter, so I gave him some bread and cheese, and told him he might lie on the straw!’
‘He’s welcome as far as I’m concerned,’ said the Man; ‘but get me something to eat, Wife, I’m very hungry.’
His Wife said, ‘I have nothing but bread and cheese.’