“Farewell, Farewell!” cried the swallow with a heavy heart, and with that he flew away from the warm countries, far away back to the green wood. There he has a little nest above the window of a man who tells fairy stories. To him the swallow sings sweet songs of “Tweet-weet! Tweet-weet!” and it is from him that we have this story.
THE TRAVELLING COMPANION
Johannes sat quietly holding the hand of his dying father. Suddenly, the old man opened his eyes and said, “You have been a good son, Johannes. God will always help you.” With that he closed his eyes and died, leaving Johannes all alone in the world.
The sun shone gloriously on the day of his father’s funeral. Johannes thought, “I will try always to help people so that one day I will be able to join my father in heaven.” Next morning he set out into the world, but first he stopped beside his father’s grave to say a prayer and wish him goodbye.
That night, Johannes slept under the stars in a hayrick as comfortably as if he were a king in his bed. In the morning, he heard bells ringing and followed the villagers to church. He noticed that some of the graves in the churchyard were neglected so he tidied them up, hoping that other people might look after his father’s grave in the same way.
By the church door stood an old beggar, leaning on a crutch. Johannes gave him what little money he had and set out again on his journey. As night began to fall, a wild and violent storm blew up. On a nearby hilltop was a small, lonely church, and he went inside to shelter. He settled down in a corner and fell fast asleep. A noise woke him in the middle of the night. The storm was over and the moon shone through the windows, lighting up an open coffin in the middle of the church. Two men were lifting the body out of the coffin.
“What are you doing?” cried Johannes. “In God’s name, let him rest in peace.”
“He owed us money!” said the wicked men. “So we are going to throw him out to lie in the churchyard like a dog!”
“Take my money,” said Johannes. “I don’t need it. God will look after me.” And he gave the villains all the money he had and gently lifted the body back into the coffin.
Before dawn, Johannes set off again through a dense, black forest. He was not afraid, even when the moon lit up tiny elves dancing among the leaves and speckled spiders spinning gossamer webs in the hedges. The sun was rising when he heard a man’s voice call out, “Hello there, my friend. May I keep you company during your travels?”
“I should like that,” said Johannes, and the two walked on together.
At mid-morning they sat down under a tree to rest when an old woman carrying a bundle of sticks hobbled by. Suddenly she slipped and fell, breaking her leg. Johannes rushed to help her while his fellow traveller opened his knapsack and took out a box of ointment.
“This ointment will mend your leg and make it stronger than before,” he said to the old woman. “All I ask in return is three of your willow sticks.”
The old woman gladly agreed, and the stranger rubbed on the ointment, making her leg as good as new. Johannes and his fellow traveller went on their way and stopped at an inn for the night. Inside, a crowd was watching a puppet show. The show was just coming to the most exciting part when a bulldog suddenly jumped up and snatched one of the puppets in its jaws.
The fellow traveller rubbed onto the broken puppet the same ointment that had cured the broken leg. At once the puppet was mended and was even better than before. Now it moved and danced without strings.
In the middle of the night, people in the inn were woken by loud groans coming from the puppet theatre. All the other puppets were crying because they too wanted to be able to move by themselves!
“Please rub your ointment on all my puppets,” begged the puppet-master, and he offered the traveller all the money he had. As soon as the puppets were smeared with ointment they began to dance, which made everyone else want to dance too! Johannes’ fellow traveller would not take the puppet-master’s money, but in return he asked him for his sword. Early next morning, he set out with Johannes for the mountains. They climbed higher and higher, and Johannes was so entranced by the sight of the world around him that his eyes filled with tears and he said, “I have never seen such beauty! What a wonderful world we live in.”
As they stood gazing at the scene, they heard a swan singing its dying song in the air above. Then its voice grew faint and it dropped to the ground.
“ ‘I AM GOING OUT INTO THE WIDE WORLD TOO,’ SAID THE STRANGE MAN”
“Two beautiful white wings are worth money,” said the fellow traveller, and he cut off the dead swan’s wings with his sword.
The two men crossed the mountains and descended to a large city. They stopped at an inn where the landlord told them about the good king who ruled there and his wicked daughter. She was a witch and responsible for the death of hundreds of young men who had tried to win her hand in marriage by guessing her thoughts.
“What a wicked princess!” said Johannes. “She deserves to be beaten.”
Suddenly they heard cheering outside the inn. The princess was riding by on a snow-white horse. She wore a gold crown made of tiny stars and a cloak of butterfly wings, and was accompanied by twelve beautiful ladies dressed in white silk and carrying golden tulips. When people gazed on the princess’s dazzling beauty they forgot how bad she was, and as soon as he saw her Johannes fell in love with her.
“I will go to the palace and win her. I am sure I can guess what she is thinking,” he thought.
The king welcomed Johannes to the palace, but when he heard that he wanted to win his daughter he began to sob, “I beg you to think again,” he said. “You will end up like the others. Look.”
He led Johannes into a garden where a horrifying sight met his eyes. From every tree hung the skeletons of kings’ sons, and in the pots where flowers should have bloomed were piles of grinning skulls. But Johannes was not put off, and when he saw the princess again he thought she was lovelier than ever. She told him to return the next day so that the whole court could judge the guessing. If he succeeded, he would return twice more, but if he failed his head would be cut off.
When Johannes told his fellow traveller that he was going to the palace the next day, the man shook his head and said, “Poor, dear Johannes. Tonight we must enjoy ourselves for I fear tomorrow I shall be crying.”
So they spent the evening talking and drinking wine until Johannes was so sleepy that he went to his bed. While he slept, the fellow traveller fixed the white swan’s wings to his shoulders and picked up the largest of the sticks given to him by the old woman. Then he opened the window and flew over the town to the palace. He hid under the princess’s window until it opened and she flew out on black wings and headed for a high mountain. The fellow traveller made himself invisible and flew after her, hitting her with his stick.
“It must be hailing,” said the princess as the blows stung her.
When she reached the mountain, a door opened in its side and she entered, followed by the invisible traveller. They walked down a long passage lit by glittering spiders and reached a hall, where red and blue flowers grew from the walls, glow-worms illuminated the ceiling and bats hung upside down, flapping their wings. A wrinkled old wizard sat on a glass throne supported by the skeletons of four horses beneath a canopy of deep-red cobwebs. He kissed the princess and she sat beside him while a strange orchestra began to play. Huge black grasshoppers chirped, an owl beat out a rhythm with its wings and goblins pranced around the room.
The princess told the evil wizard that another young man hoped to win her, and asked him what thought she should make him guess the next day.
“Choose something easy that he will never think of,” said the wizard.
“Think of one of your shoes. He will never guess that. Then you must have him beheaded and bring me his eyes.” The princess promised to do so and said goodbye. The invisible traveller flew close behind her all the way back to the palace, hitting her with the stick.
Next morning the fellow travelle
r told Johannes that he had dreamt about the princess’s shoe and that he felt sure this was the answer to the riddle.
“I will trust in God,” said Johannes, “but her shoe sounds as good a guess as any.”
The palace was crowded with people. The judges sat with their heads propped on cushions and the king sat wiping the tears from his eyes. When the princess appeared she seemed more beautiful than ever. She looked at Johannes and said, “What am I thinking of?”
“Your shoe,” replied Johannes straight away.
The princess turned as pale as chalk and the king leapt up joyfully.
That night, while Johannes slept, the fellow traveller again flew behind the princess to the mountain, this time beating her with two willow sticks. When the princess asked the wizard what to think of next he suggested her glove. In the morning, the fellow traveller again told Johannes he had had a dream, this time about the princess’s glove. When Johannes guessed correctly a second time the whole court jumped for joy, but the princess said nothing.
On the third night the fellow traveller took three willow sticks and his sword and flew towards the palace. A storm was blowing so hard that tiles from the roofs were flying everywhere, and the skeletons in the garden clanked their bones as they shook. The princess, looking deathly pale, flew from her window and headed for the mountain through the stormy skies, followed by the fellow traveller thrashing her with all three sticks.
Inside the mountain she told the evil wizard that Johannes had guessed right a second time.
“He will not do it a third time,” snarled the wizard, “unless he is a greater magician than I am.”
“LET HIM HAVE HIS HEAD CUT OFF”
He took the princess’s hands and they danced to the music of the strange orchestra. When it was time to return to the palace the wizard flew back with the princess. The invisible traveller stayed close behind, hitting them both with the sticks.
“What a violent hail-storm,” said the wizard. Then to the princess he whispered, “Think of my head.” The princess slipped in through her window. The wizard turned to fly back, but the fellow traveller grabbed his beard and cut off his head with the sword. Next day the fellow traveller handed a bundle to Johannes.
“Do not open this until the princess commands you to tell her what she is thinking of,” he said.
The court was more crowded than ever when Johannes appeared before the princess for the third time.
“What am I thinking of?” she asked him sternly. “Remember, your life is at stake!”
As everyone in the court held their breath, Johannes picked up the bundle. Slowly he unwrapped it, and out rolled the head of the evil wizard. The princess sat as still as a statue and did not say a word. At last she stood up and held her hand out to Johannes, saying, “We shall celebrate our wedding this evening.”
“At last,” cried the old king, “my dearest wish will be fulfilled.” The whole court shouted and cheered.
But the fellow traveller knew that the princess was still a witch, and the dead wizard’s spell over her had to be broken. He gave Johannes three swan’s feathers and a small bottle of magic drops and told him to mix them in a bath of water.
“When the princess is about to get into her bed, push her gently so that she falls into the bath. To break the spell and make her love you, you must dip her head under the water three times.”
Johannes did as he was told. The princess screamed when he pushed her under the water the first time and struggled back up to the surface in the shape of a black swan. Johannes pushed the swan back under the water a second time, whereupon she rose again to the surface. This time, the swan had become white with a black neckband. But Johannes pushed her into the water a third time and finally she was changed back into the beautiful princess. She was far lovelier than before and rose with tears in her eyes, thanking him for having broken the evil spell that bound her.
The next morning, the crowds gathered round the new prince and his princess, cheering and congratulating them. Last of all came the fellow traveller, with his stick in his hand and his knapsack on his back. Johannes hugged him lovingly, begging him to stay with them, as he was the cause of all their happiness. But the traveller shook his head and said kindly, “My time is up now and my debt is paid. Do you remember the dead man whose body you saved from those villains? You gave them all your money so that he would be able to rest in peace. I am that dead man.” And without another word he vanished.
The wedding celebrations lasted a whole month and everyone in the kingdom rejoiced at the couple’s happiness. Johannes and the princess loved each other dearly and soon had two beautiful children. The old king gave his throne to Johannes, who ruled wisely and well over the kingdom for many years. Meanwhile the king spent many happy days playing with his beloved grandchildren.
THE EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES
There once lived an emperor who loved new clothes. He enjoyed dressing up so much that he would sometimes change ten times a day. Important people visiting him would often be told,
“The emperor is in his dressing-room.”
One day, a pair of tricksters arrived in the capital. They heard about the emperor and rubbed their hands. They went to see him and said they could weave marvellous cloth that had more wonderful colours and patterns than anyone had ever seen. Best of all, only clever people were able to see it. To stupid people it was invisible.
“My goodness,” thought the emperor. “Not only will I have magnificent new clothes, but I shall be able to tell at once which of my ministers is not clever enough for his job! I must have some of this astonishing cloth immediately!” So he paid the tricksters very large sums of money to begin work on their magical cloth.
The two men set up their weaving looms in the palace. They pretended to work very hard, although really they were doing nothing at all. After a while they asked for the very best silk that money could buy and the most splendid gold thread to be brought to them. They hid the silk and thread away in their bags and carried on pretending to work at the empty looms until late into the night.
After a few days the emperor could contain his excitement no longer.
“I must find out how the weavers are getting on,” he said. Then he thought to himself, “I’m sure I shall see the clothes perfectly, but perhaps I should be very careful. I will send one of my ministers first, just to be on the safe side.” So he sent his oldest and most important minister.
The minister went to the weavers’ room. He looked, and then he stared, but he saw nothing!
“Oh, my word!” he said to himself. “This is terrible. I can’t see anything there! Am I unfit for my job?” But of course he was careful not to say anything out loud.
The two tricksters invited the minister to admire the magnificent pattern and the beautiful colours of the cloth. “Have you ever seen anything so fine?” they asked him. The poor, bewildered minister gulped and replied.
“Er, no, no! It is certainly the finest I have ever seen. I shall tell the emperor at once how magnificent it is. But as the light is not very good, could you describe exactly the patterns and colours that you are making?” So the weavers told him in great detail exactly what they were pretending to make. The minister listened carefully and then repeated everything to the emperor.
“THE EMPEROR IS IN THE WARDROBE”
Soon the weavers demanded more silks and thread, and again they hid them in their bags before continuing to work at the empty looms. A few days later, the emperor sent another minister to see if the cloth was finished. Like the first minister, the puzzled man stared and stared but could see nothing at all.
“Isn’t this the most beautiful cloth you ever saw?” asked the tricksters, and they described the fabulous patterns which, of course, weren’t really there at all.
“I’m not stupid, of course I’m not,” thought the minister, “but I mustn’t let anyone realise that I cannot see the cloth.” So he agreed with the weavers that it was exquisite and hurried back to tell the e
mperor. Soon, everybody in the capital was talking about the wonderful new clothes being made for the emperor.
By now, the emperor thought it safe to see the cloth for himself. Accompanied by his ministers, he went to the weaving room. The two tricksters were still pretending to work without resting.
“If it please your majesty, come close and examine the ingenious pattern and the magnificent colours,” they said, pointing to the empty looms.
“Dear, dear!” thought the emperor. “I can’t see anything. This is most alarming. Can I be stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor?” So he said, “It is stupendous! The finest cloth we have ever seen. It has our most gracious approval.” And he nodded his head several times as he gazed at the empty looms. The ministers all looked, but not one of them could see a thing.
“Yes, very pretty, very pretty,” they all repeated, trying to look wise and serious. “You should wear the new clothes in the next procession,” they advised the emperor.
The day before the procession, the two tricksters sat up all night finishing the emperor’s new clothes. The townspeople could see them working in their candle-lit room. The weavers pretended to lift the cloth off the looms, cut it with large scissors and sew it with needles and thread. In the morning they announced that the clothes were finished.
“OH, HOW WELL THEY LOOK! HOW CAPITALLY THEY FIT!”
When the emperor entered the room, accompanied by his ministers, each trickster held out one arm as if he was holding something.
“Here are the trousers and the waistcoat,” said one.
“Here is the shirt and the coat,” said the other. “They are light as cobwebs. It will feel as if you are wearing nothing at all!”
Then the emperor took off all his clothes and the tricksters pretended to dress him while he turned and twirled in front of the mirror.
“What a perfect fit!” said everyone. “What vivid colours! What beautiful clothes they are!” The emperor’s servants pretended to pick up the long train and hold it in the air while the emperor stepped outside to lead the procession.
Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales: Twenty Tales Illustrated by Harry Clarke Page 4