by Maria Tatar
“I’m coming from the mill,” he replied, “and I was hoping to take a letter to the queen. But since I’ve lost my way in the woods, I’d be grateful if I could stay here for the night.”
“You poor boy,” the woman said. “You’ve walked into a house where robbers are living. When they come home, they will kill you.”
“Let come what may,” the boy said. “I’m not afraid. Besides, I’m too tired to go any farther,” and he stretched out on a bench and fell asleep. Not much later the robbers returned and asked in an angry tone about the stranger lying on the bench.
“Ah,” said the old woman, “he’s just an innocent child who got lost in the woods. I felt sorry for him and took him in. He has been sent to deliver a letter to the queen.”
When the robbers opened the letter and read it, they discovered that the boy was to be murdered after delivering the letter. Even the hardhearted robbers felt sorry for him, and the leader tore the letter in two and composed a new one which said that the boy was to marry the princess on arrival. The boy slept undisturbed, and they let him stay on the bench until the next morning. When he woke up, they gave him the new letter and pointed him in the right direction. The queen received the letter, read it, and did exactly as it said. She ordered a splendid wedding feast, and the princess was married to the lucky lad. And because the fellow was handsome and charming, she lived with him in peace and happiness.
Some time later the king returned to his castle and saw that the prophecy had been fulfilled and that the lucky lad had married his daughter. “How could that have happened?” he exclaimed. “My letter sent very different instructions.” The queen handed him the letter and told him to see for himself what was in it. The king read the contents and realized that his letter had been exchanged for another. He asked the boy what had happened to the document entrusted to him and why he had arrived with a different one.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “Someone must have switched the letters while I was asleep in the woods.”
The king was enraged and said: “It’s not all going to fall in your lap like this. Whoever marries my daughter is going to have to go to hell and bring back three hairs from the devil’s head. If you do as I say, you can stay married to my daughter.” The king was hoping to get rid of him forever that way. But the lucky lad replied: “I will go and fetch the golden hairs. I’m not afraid of the devil.” And so he took his leave and set out on his journey.
The road took him to a big town, and the guards at the gates wanted to know everything about him, what trade he practiced and what he knew.
“I know everything,” the lucky lad replied.
“Then you can do us a big favor,” the guards said, “and tell us why the well that stands in the marketplace has dried up. It used to overflow with wine, and now we can’t even get water from it.”
“You’ll get your answer,” he replied. “Just wait until I come back.”
He went on his way and came to another town. The guard at the gates there also asked him what kind of trade he practiced and what he knew.
“I know everything,” he replied.
“Then you can do us a favor and tell us why the tree in our town, which used to bear golden apples, won’t even put out leaves now.”
“You’ll get your answer,” he replied. “Just wait until I come back.”
He kept walking and reached a deep river that he had to cross. The ferryman asked him what trade he practiced and what he knew.
“I know everything,” he replied.
“Then you can do me a favor,” the ferryman said, “and tell me why I have to keep rowing back and forth, and no one relieves me.”
“You’ll get your answer,” he replied. “Just wait until I come back.”
When he reached the other side of the river, he found the entrance to hell. It was dark and sooty. The devil wasn’t home, but his grandmother was sitting there in a great big easy chair.
“What do you want here?” she asked, and she didn’t look all that mean.
“I’m hoping to get three golden hairs from the devil’s head,” he replied. “Otherwise I won’t be allowed to stay married to my wife.”
“That’s asking a lot,” she said. “When the devil comes home and finds you here, there will be hell to pay. But I feel sorry for you, and I’m going to see if I can help you.”
With that, she turned him into an ant and said: “Crawl into the folds of my skirt. You’ll be safe there.”
“Yes,” he said, “that’s just fine. But I’d like to get some information about three things. First, why does a well that used to overflow with wine suddenly go dry and not even give water? Second, why does a tree that used to bear golden apples stop putting out even leaves? And third, why does a ferryman have to keep rowing back and forth without anyone coming to relieve him?”
“Those are tough questions,” she said. “But keep quiet and hold still. And more importantly, listen carefully to what the devil says when I pull the three golden hairs from his head.”
When night fell, the devil returned home. As soon as he walked in the door he noticed that there was something in the air. “I smell, I smell the flesh of a man,” he said. “Something’s not quite right here.” Then he looked in all the nooks and crannies, but he couldn’t find anything.
His old granny scolded him. “I just finished sweeping up,” she said. “Everything was in its place, and now you come along and mess it all up again. You’re always smelling human flesh! Have a seat and eat your supper.” When he had finished eating and drinking, he felt tired, put his head in his old granny’s lap, and told her to pick out the lice from his head. Before long he had fallen asleep and began wheezing and snoring. The old woman took hold of a golden hair, pulled it out, and put it next to her.
“Ouch!” screeched the devil. “What are you doing?”
“I had a bad dream and pulled your hair.”
“What was your dream about?” the devil asked.
“I dreamed that a well that once overflowed with wine had dried up, and now even water won’t flow from it. What could be the cause of that?”
“Ha, if they only knew!” the devil replied. “In the well, under a stone, a toad is sitting. If they just killed it, the wine would start to flow again.”
The old granny picked out a few more lice until he fell asleep and started snoring so loudly that the windows were rattling. Then she pulled out a second hair.
“Hey, what’s going on?” the devil yelled in a rage.
“Don’t be angry with me,” she said. “I did it in a dream.”
“What were you dreaming about this time?” he asked.
“I dreamed that in a certain kingdom there was a fruit tree that used to bear golden apples, but now it won’t even put forth leaves. What could be the cause of that?”
“Ha, if they only knew!” the devil replied. “A mouse is gnawing on its roots. If they just killed it, the tree would soon bear golden apples again. But if the mouse continues to gnaw much longer, the whole tree will wither away. But stop bothering me with your dreams. If you disturb my sleep just one more time, I’ll box your ears.”
The old granny spoke soothing words to him and continued picking out lice until he fell asleep and started snoring again. Then she grabbed a third golden hair and pulled it out. The devil shot into the air with a howl and was about to give her a drubbing, but she calmed him down and said: “What can you do when you have bad dreams?”
“What did you dream this time?” he asked, because he was really curious.
“I dreamed about a ferryman who was always complaining about having to row back and forth and how no one comes to relieve him. What could be the cause of that?”
“Ha, the fool!” the devil replied. “All he has to do is put the pole in the hand of someone who comes along and wants to be ro
wed across. Then that guy will have to do the ferrying and he will be free.”
Now that the old granny had pulled out three of his golden hairs and had answers for the three questions, she left the old dragon in peace, and he slept until daybreak.
Once the devil went on his way, the old woman took the ant out of the folds in her skirt and restored the lucky lad to his human shape. “Here are the three golden hairs,” she said. “I’m sure you heard the devil’s answers to your three questions.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied. “And I’ll remember every word.”
“Then that takes care of you,” she said. “Now you can go on your way.”
He thanked the old woman for helping him out of his predicament and left hell with a smile on his face, for everything had turned out so well for him. When he reached the river, the ferryman was waiting for the answer that had been promised him. “First row me over to the other side,” the lucky chap said, “and then I will tell you how you can get some relief from your work.” He reached the other side and gave him the devil’s advice: “When the next person comes to be rowed to the other side, put the pole in his hand.”
He went on and arrived in the town where the tree that would not bear fruit was standing. The guard was waiting for the answer to his question. He told him exactly what he had heard from the devil: “Kill the mouse that is gnawing on the roots and then the tree will bear golden apples again.” The guard thanked him and gave him, as a reward, two donkeys laden with gold, and they followed him.
Finally he reached the town where the well had dried up. He told the guard exactly what the devil had said: “In the well, under a stone, a toad is sitting. If you just find it and kill it, then wine will start to flow again.” The guard thanked him and gave him another pair of donkeys laden with gold.
Finally the lucky lad came back home to his wife, who was overjoyed to see him again and to hear about his success. As for the king, he brought back for him just what he had asked for: three golden hairs from the devil’s head. When he saw the four donkeys laden with gold, the king was delighted and said: “Now you have fulfilled all the conditions, and you can stay married to my daughter. But, tell me, dear son-in-law, where did you get all this gold? This is an immense treasure.”
“I traveled across a river,” he replied, “and I took it with me. It’s right on the banks of the river, where there’s usually sand.”
“Can I go get some for myself?” asked the king, for he was a greedy man.
“As much as you want,” he replied. “There’s a ferryman on the river who can row you across so that you can fill up the sacks you take with you.” The greedy king left as soon as he could, and when he reached the river, he beckoned the ferryman to take him to the other side. The ferryman came and told him to climb in, and when they got to the other side, he put the pole in his hand, jumped out, and ran off. The king had to row back and forth from then on as punishment for his sins.
“And is he still rowing?”
“Of course he is! Who would take that pole from him?”
THE MAGIC TABLE,
THE GOLD DONKEY,
AND THE CLUB
IN THE SACK
ong, long ago there lived a tailor who had three sons and just one goat. Since the goat had to supply all four of them with milk, they made sure to take her out every day to graze somewhere and to keep her well fed. The sons took turns at this task. One day the eldest son took the goat out to the churchyard, where the tastiest grass was growing, and he let her graze and frolic to her heart’s content. In the evening, when it was time to return home, he asked: “Little goat, have you had enough to eat?” The goat replied:
“I’m really stuffed,
Enough’s enough. Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Then let’s go back home,” the boy said. He took her by the rope, walked her back to her stall, and tied her up.
“Well,” said the old tailor. “Has the goat eaten her fill?”
“Oh, yes,” the son replied. “She’s so full that she doesn’t want another blade of grass.”
The boy’s father wanted to find out for himself and so he went to the goat’s stall, stroked the head of his beloved animal, and asked: “Little goat, are you really full?”
The goat replied:
“Enough to eat? Hardly a chance!
A graveyard’s just a place to dance.
I didn’t find a single leaf: Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Well, I never!” the tailor shouted, and he ran up the stairs to confront his son.
“You miserable liar! You tell me that the goat has eaten her fill when in fact you’ve let her starve!” And in his rage, he took a measuring stick from the wall and used it to chase his son out of the house.
The next day it was the second son’s turn to take the goat out. He found a spot for her along the garden hedge, where every kind of good grass was growing, and the goat ate every blade down to the ground. In the evening, when he wanted to get back home, he asked: “Little goat, are you full now?” The goat replied:
“I’m really stuffed,
Enough’s enough. Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Well then, let’s go back home,” the boy said, and he led her to the stall and tied her up.
“Did the goat get enough to eat?” the old tailor asked.
“Oh, she’s so full that she doesn’t want another blade of grass,” his son replied.
The tailor wanted to see for himself that she was full, and he went over to the stall and asked: “Little goat, are you really full?”
And the goat answered:
“Enough to eat? Hardly a chance!
A graveyard’s just a place to dance.
I didn’t find a single leaf: Mehhh, mehhh!”
“The godless wretch!” the tailor shouted. “Letting a good creature like that starve to death!” He ran up the stairs, and waving the stick, he chased the boy out the door.
Now it was the turn of the third son, who was anxious to do things the right way. He found some bushes with tender leaves and let the goat nibble on them. In the evening, when he wanted to go back home, he asked: “Little goat, are you full now?” The goat replied:
“I’m really stuffed,
Enough’s enough. Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Well, then, come back home,” the boy said, and he led her to the stall and tied her up.
“Well now,” the old tailor asked. “Did the goat get enough to eat?”
“Oh, yes, she’s so full that she doesn’t want another blade of grass,” the son replied.
The tailor didn’t trust him, and he went down the stairs and asked: “Little goat, are you full now?”
The malicious animal replied:
“Enough to eat? Hardly a chance!
A graveyard’s just a place to dance.
I didn’t find a single leaf: Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Oh, you pack of liars,” the tailor shouted. “One is more wicked and unreliable than the next! Well, you can’t make a fool of me any longer.” Beside himself with rage, he raced up the stairs and gave the boy such a tanning with his stick that he fled the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. The next morning he went down to the stall, caressed the animal, and said: “Come along, my dear little pet. I’ll take you out to graze.” He picked up her rope and brought her to some green hedges and some clumps of yarrow, along with everything else that goats like to eat.
“Now you can finally feast to your heart’s content,” he said to her, and he let her graze until sunset. Then he asked: “Well, little goat, are you full?” She replied:
“I’m really stuffed,
Enough’s enough. Mehhh, mehhh!”
“Then let’s go back home,” said the tailor, and he took her back to her stall and tied her up. As he was about to go, he turned
around and said: “Well, now you have finally eaten your fill!” But the goat treated him no better and replied:
“Enough to eat? Hardly a chance!
A graveyard’s just a place to dance.
I didn’t find a single leaf: Mehhh, mehhh!”
When the tailor heard those words, he was stunned, for he now realized that he had driven his sons away for no reason at all. “Just wait!” he shouted. “Throwing you out is too mild a punishment, you ungrateful wretch! I’m going to brand you so that you won’t dare show your face among honest tailors any more.”
He ran up the stairs as fast as he could, took out his razor, lathered the goat’s head, and shaved it until it was as smooth as the palm of his hand. And since the stick seemed too good for her, he picked up his whip and gave her such a thrashing that she leaped and ran off for dear life.
The tailor was now all alone in his house, and he began to feel deeply lonely. He longed to have his sons back again, but no one knew where they had gone.
The eldest son had apprenticed himself to a carpenter, and he had been eager to learn and had worked hard. When he finished his apprenticeship and was about to start his travels, the master carpenter gave him a little table made of ordinary wood. There was nothing special about its appearance, but it had one special quality. If you put it down and said: “Table, set yourself!” then instantly a clean tablecloth was spread out on the good little table and a plate with a knife and fork suddenly appeared. Every inch of the table was covered with platters of roast meat and stewed meat, and a big glass of red wine sparkled on the table, making your heart glow.
The young journeyman thought: “That will keep you going for the rest of your life!” and he went out into the world in high spirits and never stopped to ask whether an inn was good or bad or whether you could get food there or not. When he didn’t feel like stopping at an inn, he would take the little table off his back, set it up in a meadow, in a forest, or in a field, or wherever he wanted, and say: “Set yourself!” And then everything he could ever want was right there.