“Don’t be afraid of me, my lad,” said the man. “I’m not going to hurt you, for I’m only a poor man who is begging for a penny in God’s name.”
“Mercy! The truth is,” said Little Freddie, “that I have only one penny left, and I’m going to town to buy some clothes with it. If only I had met you before —”
“Well, I have no penny at all, and a bigger body and fewer clothes, so it’s worse for me than for you,” said the poor man.
Then he would have to have the penny, said Little Freddie. There was no way out of that, for then each one had his and he had none.
“Now, since you have been so good-hearted and given away everything you owned,” said the poor man, “I will give you a wish for each penny.” It was the same poor man who had received all three pennies. He had just changed his appearance each time so that the boy could not recognize him again.
“Don’t be afraid of me, my lad.”
“I’ve always loved to hear the fiddle play, and to see people so merry and glad that they danced,” said the boy. “So — if I may wish for anything I like — I’ll wish for such a fiddle that everything alive must dance to it,” he said.
That he should get, but it was a poor wish, said the poor man. “You’ll have to wish something better for the other pennies.”
“I’ve always wanted to hunt and shoot,” said the boy, “so, if I may wish for what I’d like, then I’ll wish me such a musket that I hit whatever I aim at, be it ever so far away.”
He should get that, but it was a poor wish, said the poor man. “You’d better wish something better for the last penny.”
“I’ve always longed to be with people who were good and kindhearted,” said Little Freddie. “So if I may wish for whatever I’d like, I would want it so that no one could refuse me the first thing I asked for.”
“That wasn’t such a poor wish,” said the poor man, and then he strode away among the hills and was gone. And the boy lay down to sleep, and the next day he came down from the mountain with his fiddle and his musket.
First he went to the storekeeper and asked for clothes; and at one farm he asked for a horse, and at another he asked for a sleigh, and at one place he asked for a fur coat, and not a “No” did he hear, for no matter how stingy they were, they had to give him what he asked for. At last he travelled through the countryside like a real gentleman, with horse and sleigh.
When he had travelled for a while he met the sheriff for whom he had served.
“Good day, master,” said Little Freddie, stopping and lifting his cap.
“Good day,” said the sheriff. “Have I been your master?” he asked.
“Yes, don’t you remember that I served you for three years, for three pennies?” said Little Freddie.
“Good gracious! Then you’ve made good in no time!” said the sheriff. “But how has it happened that you have become such a fine gentleman?”
“Oh, that’s a long story,” said Little Freddie.
“And are you so bent on pleasure that you travel with a fiddle, too?” said the sheriff.
“Yes, I’ve always liked to make folk dance,” said the boy. “But the finest thing I have is this musket here,” he said, “for it brings down everything I aim at, no matter how far away it is. Do you see that magpie sitting in that spruce tree over there?” said Little Freddie. “What will you bet that I can’t hit it from where we are now standing?”
The sheriff was willing, if need be, to bet both horse and farm, and a hundred dalers besides, that he couldn’t; but as it was, he put up all the money he had with him, and he would fetch the bird when it fell, for he didn’t believe that it was possible to shoot so far with any musket. But as soon as the shot was fired, the magpie fell into a big bramble patch, and the sheriff strode all the way in to fetch it, and picked it up. At the same moment Little Freddie started playing his fiddle, and the Sheriff began to dance so the thorns tore at him; and the boy played and the Sheriff danced and cried and pleaded until the rags flew off him, and he had hardly a thread left on his back.
“Well, now I think you are just as ragged as I was when I left your service,” said the boy, “so now I will let you go.” But first the sheriff had to pay him what he had bet that the boy couldn’t hit the magpie.
When Little Freddie came to town, he went to an inn. He played on his fiddle, and everyone who came there started dancing, and he lived both merrily and well; he had no sorrows for no one could say “No” to what he asked for.
But one day, when the merrymaking was at its liveliest, the watch came to arrest the boy and drag him to the town hall; for the sheriff had complained about him, and said that he had both assaulted and robbed him, and nearly taken his life. And now he should be hanged, there was no way out.
But Little Freddie had a way out of everything, and that was the fiddle. He started to play, and the watch had to dance until they fell down gasping. Then they sent for soldiers and guards, but they fared no better. As soon as Little Freddie took to playing his fiddle, they had to dance as long as he was able to make a sound; but they were worn out long before that.
But finally they sneaked in on him and took him when he was asleep at night, and when they had him, he was sentenced to be hanged right away, and it was off to the gallows at once. A large crowd had come to witness this rare spectacle. And the sheriff was there, too, and he was so overjoyed because he would be repaid for the money and his torn skin, and see that they hanged the boy.
But it didn’t go quickly, for Little Freddie was a feeble walker, and he made himself even feebler; the fiddle and the musket he carried along, too, for nobody could get them away from him. And when he came to the gallows, and was going to climb, he rested on every rung of the ladder. On the topmost rung he sat down, and asked if they could refuse him one wish: that he might be allowed to do one thing. He would so like to play just one little tune on his fiddle before they hanged him.
“It would be both a sin and a shame to refuse him that,” they said. They couldn’t say “No” to what he asked for. But the sheriff begged, in heaven’s name, not to let him pluck on a string, or else it would be the end of them all. As for himself, they must tie him to the birch tree which stood there, should the boy start playing.
It didn’t take Little Freddie long to get the fiddle to sound, and everyone there started to dance, both those on two legs and those on four: both deacon and parson, and clerk and bailiff, and sheriff and hangman, and dogs and pigs. They danced and laughed and shrieked all at the same time; some danced until they lay stretched out as though dead; some danced until they fainted. They all fared pretty badly, but it went worst with the sheriff, for he stood tied to the birch, and danced and rubbed big patches of skin off his back. But no one thought of doing anything to Little Freddie, and he could go wherever he wished with his fiddle and musket. And he lived happily the rest of his days, for there was no one who could say “No” to the first thing he asked for.
They danced, and laughed, and shrieked all at the same time; some danced until they lay stretched out as though dead; some danced until they fainted.
SORIA MORIA CASTLE
There was once a couple who had a son, and his name was Halvor. From the time he was a small boy he would never do anything, but just sat raking in the ashes. His parents sent him away to learn many different trades, but Halvor would not stick to anything, for when he had been away a few days, he ran away from the trade, came home, and sat down in the hearth and poked in the ashes as before.
Now it happened one day that a skipper came and asked Halvor if he would like to come with him and go to sea, and see foreign parts. Yes, Halvor would like that, and it took him but a short time to get ready.
How long they sailed, I haven’t heard, but after a while a terrible storm struck the ship, and when it had abated and the sea was calm again, they didn’t know where they were; they had been driven up along a coast unknown to them all.
As it was so still that not even a feather was stirring, H
alvor asked the Skipper if he might go ashore and look around, for he would rather walk than lie and sleep.
“Do you think you can show yourself to people?” said the Skipper. “Why, you have no other clothes than the rags on your back.”
But Halvor insisted, and at last he was allowed to go; but he was to come back as soon as the wind came up. So Halvor went ashore, and it was a lovely land; everywhere he went there were great plains, with fields and meadows, but not a living soul did he see. Then the wind started blowing, but Halvor thought he had not seen enough yet, and he wanted to walk a little longer to see if he could find some people. After a while, he came to a wide road which was so level that one could have rolled an egg on it. On this road Halvor trudged along, and towards evening he saw a great castle in the distance, its windows ablaze with light. He had been walking the whole day, and as he had not had much to eat, he was now quite hungry. But the closer he came to the castle, the more frightened he became.
Inside the castle a fire was burning on the hearth, and Halvor went into the kitchen, which was finer than any kitchen he had ever seen before. The dishes there were of both gold and silver, but he did not see a living soul anywhere. After he had stood a while, and no one came, he went over and opened a door, and there sat a princess spinning.
“Oh dear me!” she cried. “What Christian soul dares come in here? You had better go again lest the Troll eat you up; for a Troll with three heads lives here!”
“I don’t mind if he has four more, I’d like to see that fellow,” said the boy. “And I won’t leave, because I have done no wrong. But you must give me something to eat, because I am frightfully hungry.”
When Halvor had eaten his fill, the princess told him to try to swing the big sword that hung on the wall. But no, he couldn’t swing it, he couldn’t even lift it once.
“Well,” said the princess, “then you must take a swallow from that bottle hanging beside it, for that is what the Troll does when he is going out to use the sword.”
Halvor took a swallow, and right away he could swing the sword as though it were nothing. Now, he thought, it didn’t matter when the Troll appeared.
All at once the Troll came bursting in; Halvor was behind the door.
“Ugh! Ugh! I smell the smell of Christian blood!” said the Troll, and stuck his head inside the door.
“Yes, and you’ll soon know why,” said Halvor and chopped off all the heads.
The princess was so happy, now that she had been saved, that she danced and sang, but then she came to think of her sisters, and so she said, “Oh, if only my sisters were saved too!”
“Where are they?” asked Halvor.
Well, she told him: one of them had been taken away by a Troll to a castle six leagues away, and the other was held by a Troll in a castle nine leagues beyond that one. “But first you must help me get rid of this body,” she said.
Well, Halvor was so strong, he had the place straightened up and clean in no time. Then he ate, and slept pleasantly and well, and the next morning he started off at dawn, but he knew no peace, and he ran and walked the whole day. When he caught sight of the castle, he became a little frightened again, for it was much finer than the first. But there was not a person to be seen here either; so Halvor went right into the kitchen, and he didn’t stop there but went straight on.
“Does any Christian dare come here?” cried the princess. “I don’t know how long I have been here, but in all that time I have never seen a Christian soul. You must leave at once, for a Troll with six heads lives here!”
“I wouldn’t go,” said Halvor, “even if he had six more!”
“He will take and gobble you alive,” said the princess.
But that didn’t matter. Halvor would not leave, for he was not afraid of the Troll. But he said he would like some food and drink, for he was hungry after the journey.
So he got as much as he wanted, but once again the princess begged him to leave.
“No,” said Halvor, “I’m not going, for I have done no wrong, and I haven’t anything to be afraid of.”
From the time he was a small boy, he would never do anything, but just sat raking in the ashes.
“He won’t ask about that,” said the princess, “for he will seize you without law or right. But since you won’t go, try to swing the sword which the Troll uses to fight with.”
He could not swing the sword, but then the princess told him to take a drink from the bottle which hung beside it, and when he had done that he could swing it.
All at once the Troll came, and he was so huge and burly that he had to go sideways to get in through the door. When he had got his first head in, he shouted, “Ugh! Ugh! I smell the smell of Christian blood!”
But right away Halvor chopped off the first head, and then all the others. The princess was so happy that she didn’t know which leg to stand on, but then she remembered her sisters, and said that she wished they could be saved too.
Halvor thought it could be managed somehow, and he wanted to be on his way at once. But first he had to help the princess remove the body of the Troll, and the next morning he set out on the way.
It was far to the castle, and he walked and ran to get there in time, but late in the evening he saw it in the distance, and it was even finer than the other two. This time he was not a bit frightened, but went through the kitchen and right in. There sat a princess who was lovelier than any he had ever seen before.
Like her sisters, she told him that there had not been a Christian soul in the place as long as she had been there, and she warned him to leave at once if he wanted to save his life. The Troll would eat him alive — he had nine heads, she said.
“Even if he had nine more, in addition to those nine, and still nine more, I’m not going,” said Halvor.
The princess bade him so pitiably to go, but Halvor insisted on staying and said, “Let him come whenever he wants to!”
Then she gave him the Troll’s sword, and told him to take a drink from the bottle so he could swing it.
Just then the Troll came rushing in with a great din, and he was even bigger and bulkier than the other two, and he also had to crawl sideways to come through the door.
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Here I smell the blood of a Christian man!” roared the Troll.
At the same moment, Halvor cut off the first head, and then all the others; but the last one was the toughest of them all, and it was the hardest job Halvor had ever had getting that off, even though he felt strong enough.
Now all the princesses came together at the castle, and they were happier than they had ever been in all their lives; and they were fond of Halvor, and he was fond of them, and he could have the one he liked best. But of all three, the youngest was fondest of him.
As the days went on, Halvor began to be moody and restless, so the princesses asked what he was brooding over, and if he did not like to be with them. Yes, that he liked, for they had enough to live on, and he was well off in every way. But he was longing for his home, for his parents were still living and he wanted to see them again.
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Here I smell the blood of a Christian man!” roared the Troll.
The princesses told him that it could easily be arranged. “You may go, and you can come back here again, and no harm shall come to you either way if only you do as we now tell you.”
Halvor promised to do as they told him, so they dressed him like the finest prince, and put a ring on his finger of such a kind that with it he could wish himself both there and back again. But they warned him not to lose it, and not to mention their names, for then it would be the end of all their happiness, and he would never see them again.
“If only I were home and home were here,” said Halvor, and, just as he wished, it came true: he was standing outside his parents’ cottage, before he knew it. It was at twilight and when his parents saw this elegant stranger enter, they were quite bewildered, and started to bow and curtsy.
Halvor asked if he could spend the night ther
e.
“Oh, that would be impossible,” they said. “We have nothing to offer a fine fellow like you. But go up to the big farmhouse, it’s not far, you can see the chimney stack from here. There they have everything.”
Halvor did not want to do that, he would rather stay with them. But they insisted he go up to the farm, for there he could get both food and drink, while they had not even a chair to offer him.
“No,” said Halvor. “I won’t go up there before early tomorrow morning. Let me stay here tonight. Then I can sit by the hearth.”
The old people could not refuse him that, so Halvor sat by the hearth and started raking in the ashes, just as he had done when he lived at home.
They talked about many things, and finally Halvor asked if they had ever had any children.
Yes, they had a son, and his name was Halvor, but they didn’t know what had become of him, or whether he was dead or alive.
“Couldn’t it be me, then?” asked Halvor.
“Oh to be sure!” said the old woman getting up. “Halvor was so lazy, he would never do anything, and his clothes were always in rags and tatters, so he could never have become a fine fellow like you, Sir.”
After a while the old woman went over to the hearth to stir up the fire, and as the glow from the embers shone on Halvor’s face, she recognized him.
“Well, God bless us! Are you really Halvor?” she cried, and the old parents were quite wild with joy, so happy were they.
He had to tell them everything that had happened to him, and his mother was so fond of him that she wanted to take him up to the big farmhouse at once to show him off to the girls who had always been so proud and haughty.
She led the way, and Halvor went after her. When she got there, she told them that Halvor had returned home, and now they would see for themselves how fine he was. He looks like a prince, she said.
Norwegian Folktales Page 7