The Grimm Reader

by Maria Tatar

The princess asked the miller about his apprentice. The miller told her: “He’s so filthy that we can’t let him come into the mill. He has to stay in the place where the geese sleep.”

  The princess asked him to bring out the apprentice at once. And so they went to get him, and he had to hold his overalls together to keep from exposing himself. The princess’s servant unpacked splendid garments and began bathing and dressing Hans, who looked as handsome as a king as soon as he was fully clothed. Then the maiden asked to see the horses that the hired hands had brought back, the blind one and the lame one. She told her servant to bring in the seventh horse. When the miller saw it, he declared that he had never ever seen a horse like that in his land.

  “And that’s the one the apprentice brought back,” she said.

  “In that case, he gets the mill,” said the miller. But the princess said that she would give him the horse and that the miller could just keep the mill for himself. She took faithful Hans by the hand and got into the coach with him and drove off. First they drove to the little cottage that he had made with silver tools, and it had turned out to be a huge castle. Everything in it was made of silver and gold. Then the two married, and he was so rich, so very rich, that he had more than enough money for the rest of his life. So don’t let people tell you that a simpleton will never amount to anything in life.

  THE WOLF AND

  THE SEVEN LITTLE GOATS

  nce upon a time there was an old goat who was living with her seven little kids, all of whom she loved as dearly as mothers love their children. One day she decided to go into the woods to forage for food, and so she gathered the kids all around her and said: “Dear children, since I’m going off into the woods, you’ll have to watch out for the wolf. If he manages to get into the house, he’ll gobble you up, skin, hair, bones, and all. The old scoundrel often disguises himself, but you won’t have any trouble recognizing him, because he has a gruff voice and black feet.”

  The little goats said: “Mother dearest, you can be sure that we’ll be on our guard. You don’t need to worry about us.” The mother bleated and left for the woods, her mind at ease.

  Before long there was a knock at the door: “Open the door, my dear children. Mother’s back, and she’s brought something for each one of you.”

  The little goats heard the gruff voice and knew that it was the wolf. “Don’t think that we would be so stupid as to open the door for you,” they cried out. “You’re not our mother. She has a sweet, lovely voice, and your voice is rough and gruff. You must be the wolf.”

  The wolf went to the store and bought a big piece of chalk. He ate it up so that it would make his voice softer. Then he returned to the goats’ house, knocked at the door, and cried out: “Open the door, dear children. Mother’s back, and she’s brought something for each of you.” But the wolf had made the mistake of putting his black paw on the window ledge, and when the children saw it, they cried out: “Don’t think that we would be so stupid as to open the door for you. Our mother doesn’t have a black foot like that one. You must be the wolf.”

  The wolf ran off to the baker and said: “I’ve hurt my leg. Can you rub some dough on it?” After the baker had covered his paw with dough, he ran to the miller and said: “Sprinkle some white flour on my paw.” The miller thought: “I’ll bet that the wolf is planning to trick somebody,” and he refused to do it. But the wolf said: “If you don’t do it, I’ll gobble you up!” The miller was terrified, and he made the paw white. Well, yes, that’s just the way people are.

  The old scoundrel went to the house a third time, knocked at the door, and said: “Open the door, dear children. Mother’s back, and she’s brought something from the woods for each of you.”

  The little kids shouted: “Show us your paw so that we will know for sure that you are our dear mother.” The wolf put his paw on the window ledge, and when they saw that it was white, they believed they were hearing the truth and opened the door. But who should have come in the door but the wolf! They were horrified and tried to hide. One hid under the table, another in bed, a third in the oven, a fourth in the kitchen, a fifth in the cupboard, a sixth under the washbasin, and the seventh in the clock case. The wolf had no trouble finding them and made short work of them. He sent one after another down his gullet, gobbling them all up. But he never did find the little goat that was hiding in the clock case. When the wolf had satisfied his desires, he shuffled off into the woods, found a shady spot under a tree in the green meadow, and fell asleep.

  Not much later the mother goat returned home from the woods. What a sight met her eyes! The front door was wide open: table, chairs, benches—everything had been turned upside down. The wash basin had been smashed into pieces. Blankets and pillows had been thrown off the bed. She searched for her children but couldn’t find them anywhere. One by one she called their names, but there was no answer at all. Finally, when she got to the name of the youngest, a faint voice called out: “Dear Mother, I’m in the clock case.”

  The mother got him out of there, and the littlest kid told her about how the wolf had managed to get in and gobble up the other children. You can imagine how hard the mother wept when she learned the news. Still sobbing and wailing with grief, she went out into the woods, and the youngest kid went with her. When they came to the meadow, they found the wolf lying under a tree and snoring so loudly that the branches were trembling. The mother looked at him carefully from all angles and could see that something was turning and squirming in his full belly.

  “Good gracious,” she thought, “is it possible that my children could still be alive, even though he ate them up for his supper!” She sent the little kid home to fetch scissors, needle, and thread. Then she cut open the belly of the wolf, and as soon as she had made the first cut, one of the little goats stuck his head out. She kept cutting and all six jumped out, one after the other. They were all still alive and had not suffered any damage, because in his greed, the monster had swallowed them whole.

  You can imagine how happy they all were! They kept hugging their dear mother and jumped up and down like a tailor at his wedding. The mother stopped them and said: “Let’s go and find some stones. We have to fill the belly of this godless beast before he wakes up.” The seven little kids hauled as many stones as they could, as fast as they could, and put them into the wolf’s belly. Then their mother sewed him up so carefully that he didn’t notice a thing and never even stirred in his sleep.

  When the wolf had finished sleeping, he got back on his feet. The stones in his belly had made him really thirsty, and so he thought he would go over to the well to get a drink. When he got up and started moving forward, the stones in his belly hit against each other and rattled. He called out:

  “What’s that rumbling down below?

  Feels to me like vertigo.

  It must be all those little bones,

  But now they’re heavy, just like stones.”

  When he reached the well, he leaned over to get a drink and the hefty stones made him lose his balance so that he fell into the well and drowned. When the seven little kids saw what had happened, they went running over to the well and shouted: “The wolf is dead! The wolf is dead!” They were so happy that they called their mother, and they all danced for joy around the well.

  THE TWELVE BROTHERS

  nce upon a time a king and a queen lived peacefully with their twelve children, who were all boys. One day the king said to his wife: “If the thirteenth child you are about to bear turns out to be a girl, then the twelve boys will have to be put to death, so that her wealth can be great and so that she alone inherits the kingdom.” Twelve coffins were prepared and filled with wood shavings, with a little pillow for each boy to rest his head. The king put them all into a locked room and gave the key to the queen. He told her not to tell anyone about it.

  The mother of the boys was filled with sorrow, and she grieved all day long. Finally, the yo
ungest son, who was always around her and to whom she had given the name Benjamin (after the Bible) asked her: “Mother dear, why are you so sad?”

  “Dearest child,” she replied, “I’m not allowed to tell you.”

  The boy was so persistent that she finally went to the room, unlocked the door, and showed him the twelve coffins with wood shavings in them. Then she said: “My dearest Benjamin, your father had these coffins made for you and for your eleven brothers. If the child I bear is a girl, you are all going to be killed and buried in these coffins.”

  She wept with each word she spoke, but her son comforted her and said: “Don’t cry, Mother dear. We can take care of ourselves. We’ll run away.”

  She replied: “Take your eleven brothers out into the woods. One of you can climb to the very top of the tallest tree in the woods. Keep an eye out there from the castle tower. If I give birth to a baby boy, I’ll raise a white flag and you can come right back home again. If I give birth to a baby girl, I’ll raise a red flag and then you must flee as fast as your legs can carry you. May the good Lord protect you. I’ll get up every night and pray that you will have a fire to warm you in the winter and that you won’t suffer from the heat in the summer.”

  She gave the sons her blessing, and they went out into the woods. They took turns keeping watch from the top of the tallest oak tree they could find and kept an eye out for the signal from the tower. When eleven days had gone by and it was Benjamin’s turn, he saw that a flag had been raised. It was not a white flag but a flag red as blood, proclaiming that they were to die. When the brothers got the news, they grew angry and said: “Are we going to die just because of a girl! Let’s take an oath to avenge ourselves. If we run into a girl, her red blood will flow.”

  Then they went deeper into the forest, right to its very heart, where it was darkest, and there they found an enchanted hut that was completely empty. They said: “Let’s live here. Benjamin, you are the youngest and weakest. You can stay home and keep house while we go out and look for food.” They went into the woods and shot rabbits, deer, birds, and doves, whatever was good to eat. Then they brought the food back home for Benjamin, who had to prepare it in an appetizing way for them. They lived together in the little house for a stretch of ten years, and time was never heavy on their hands.

  The little girl to whom the queen gave birth grew up to become a child who was kind of heart and fair of face. She had a golden star on her forehead. Once, on a big washing day, she discovered twelve shirts and asked her mother: “These shirts are far too small for Father. Whose are they?”

  The queen replied with a heavy heart: “They belong to your twelve brothers.”

  The girl said: “I’ve never heard anything about those brothers. Where are they?”

  The queen replied: “God knows where they are. They are wandering about somewhere in the world.” She took the girl by the hand and unlocked the room so that she could show her the twelve coffins with the wood shavings and pillows. “These coffins,” she said, “were made for your brothers. But they managed to escape before you were born,” and then she told her everything that had happened. The girl said to her: “Dearest Mother, don’t cry. I’m going to go find my brothers.”

  She took the twelve shirts and headed straight for the forest, walking all day long until she reached the enchanted house at night. She walked right in and saw a young boy who asked her: “Where are you from and where are you going?” He was filled with wonder by her great beauty, by her majestic clothing, and by the star on her forehead.

  The girl replied: “I’m a princess, and I’m searching for my twelve brothers. I’m willing to go as far as the sky is blue to find them.”

  She showed him the twelve shirts that belonged to them. Benjamin realized that it was his sister and said: “I’m Benjamin, your youngest brother.” She began weeping for joy, and Benjamin did the same. They felt so much love for each other that they couldn’t stop kissing and hugging.

  “Dear sister,” he said, “there’s still a problem. We vowed some time ago that we would kill any girl who crossed our threshold, because it was a girl that forced us to leave our home.”

  “I would gladly give my life if I could save my twelve brothers,” she said.

  “No, no,” he said, “you shall not die. Get down under this tub until our eleven brothers return. I’ll manage to win them over.”

  And so she hid as he told her. When night fell, the brothers returned from hunting, and their dinner was on the table. While they were eating, they asked: “Any news?” Benjamin responded by asking: “Haven’t you heard?”

  “No, we haven’t,” they replied.

  He continued: “You’ve been out in the woods, and I’ve stayed here at home, but I know more than you do.”

  “Well, tell us, tell us everything,” they cried out.

  He replied: “All right, as long as you promise not to kill the first girl who crosses our threshold.”

  “Yes, we promise,” they shouted. “We will spare her life. Just tell us what’s going on!”

  “Our sister is here,” and he lifted the tub, and out came the princess in her royal garments with the golden star on her forehead. She was unimaginably beautiful, delicate, and gracious. The boys were overjoyed, and they threw their arms around her, kissed her, and felt a deep love for her.

  The princess stayed at home with Benjamin and helped him around the house. The eleven boys went into the woods, caught game, deer, birds, and doves, so that they would have enough to eat, and Benjamin and his sister made sure that everything was cooked in a tasty way. The princess gathered firewood, found herbs to cook the vegetables with, and stirred the pots on the fire so that there was always food on the table when the brothers returned home. She kept everything in the house in good order and made the beds up with clean, white linens. The brothers were completely content, and they lived together in perfect harmony.

  One day Benjamin and his sister had prepared a fine meal, and everyone was sitting at the table, eating, drinking, and overjoyed to be together. Now there was a little garden near the enchanted house, and in it were twelve lilies which are commonly known as “students.” The princess wanted to do something nice for her brothers, and she picked the twelve flowers, hoping to give one to each of her brothers during dinner. But just as she was picking the flowers, the twelve brothers turned into twelve ravens and flew up over the trees, and the house vanished. The poor girl was left all alone in the wilderness. As she turned around, she caught sight of an old woman next to her who said: “Dear child, what have you done? Why didn’t you leave those twelve white flowers alone? They were your brothers, and now they’ve been turned into ravens forever.”

  The girl wept and said: “Isn’t there any way to disenchant them?”

  “Yes,” the old woman said. “There is one way to save them, but it’s so hard that you can’t possibly hope to free them that way. You would not be able to say a word for seven years, and you wouldn’t be able to smile at all. If you speak just one word, or if only a single hour is missing in the seven years, then everything will be in vain—in fact one word would kill your brothers.”

  The girl vowed to herself: “I know that I will be able to free my brothers,” and she went and found a hollow tree, seated herself in it, and began spinning. She neither spoke nor smiled.

  One day a king was hunting in the forest, and the big greyhound that he had taken with him ran over to the tree in which the girl was sitting and started jumping up, yelping and barking. The noise brought the king over, and he set eyes on the beautiful princess with the golden star on her forehead. He was so enchanted with her beauty that he called up to her to ask if she would be his wife. She did not say a word, but she did nod her head. He then went up the tree himself, climbed down with her, got on his horse with her, and rode home. The marriage of the two was celebrated with great joy and splendor. But the wif
e still did not say a word, nor did she laugh.

  The king and queen had been living happily for several years when the mother of the king, who was an evil woman, began to slander the young queen. She said to the king: “The girl you brought back home is nothing but a common little beggar. Who knows what kinds of godless tricks she plays in secret. Even if she’s mute and can’t speak, she ought to be able to laugh. A person who can’t laugh must have a bad conscience.”

  At first the king refused to believe her, but the old woman kept at him for so long and accused the queen of so many evil things that finally he was persuaded that she was evil. He had his wife sentenced to death.

  In the courtyard a huge fire was lit, and the queen was going to be burned at the stake. The king was at his window and watched with tears in his eyes, for he still loved her. Just after she had been bound to the stake and at the moment when flames began to lick at her clothes with their red tongues, the seven years came to an end. Suddenly there was a whirring sound in the air and twelve ravens came flying through the air and swooped down. When they touched the ground, they turned into her twelve brothers, whom she had disenchanted. They stomped on the fire, put out the flames, and released their sister. They all hugged and kissed. Now that she could finally open her mouth and speak, she told the king why she had taken a vow to remain silent and never to laugh. The king was overjoyed when he discovered that she was innocent, and the two lived together in harmony until their deaths.

  The wicked mother-in-law was brought before a judge and put into a barrel filled with boiling oil and poisonous snakes, and she died a painful death.

  LITTLE BROTHER

  AND LITTLE SISTER

  ittle Brother took Little Sister by the hand and said: “Since the day that our mother died, we haven’t had a moment of peace. Our stepmother beats us every day, and when we try to talk to her, she just gives us a swift kick and drives us off. All we get to eat are crusts of hard bread. Even the dog under the table is better off than we are. At least he gets an occasional tidbit. Our mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew what was happening. It’s time for us to leave home and seek our fortune out in the world.”