Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Brothers Grimm

  Had he known that it was no warrior, but only a Tailor, who stood before him, it would have gone to his heart still more!

  So the wedding was celebrated with great splendour, though with little rejoicing, and out of a Tailor was made a King.

  Some little while afterwards the young Queen heard her husband talking in his sleep, and saying, “Boy, make me a waistcoat, and stitch up these trousers, or I will lay the yard measure over your ears!” Then she remarked of what condition her lord was, and complained in the morning to her father, and begged he would deliver her from her husband, who was nothing else than a tailor. The King comforted her by saying, “This night leave your chamber door open; my servants shall stand without, and when he is asleep they shall enter, bind him, and bear him away to a ship which shall carry him forth into the wide world.” The wife was contented with his proposal, but the King’s armour-bearer, who had overheard all, went to the young King and disclosed the whole plot. “I will shoot a bolt upon this affair,” said the brave Tailor. In the evening, at their usual time, they went to bed, and when his wife believed he slept she got up, opened the door, and laid herself down again. The Tailor, however, only feigned to be asleep, and began to exclaim in a loud voice, “Boy, make me this waistcoat and stitch up these trousers, or I will beat the yard-measure about your ears! Seven have I killed with one blow, two Giants have I slain, an unicorn have I led captive, and a wild boar have I caught; and shall I be afraid of those who stand without my chamber?” When these men heard these words spoken by the Tailor, a great fear overcame them, and they ran away as if the wild huntsmen were behind them; neither afterwards durst any man venture to oppose him. Thus became the Tailor a King, and so he remained the rest of his days.

  The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean

  In a certain village there dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered a dish of beans, which she wished to cook. So she made a fire upon the hearth, and, that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw. And, as she shook the beans up in the saucepan, one fell out unperceived, and came down upon the ground, near a straw; soon after a glowing coal burst out of the fire, and fell just by these two. Then the Straw began to say, “My dear friend, whence do you come?” The Coal replied, “By good luck I have sprung out of the fire, and if I had not jumped away by force, my death had been certain, and I should have been reduced to ashes.” The Bean continued, “I also have got away with a whole skin, but, had the old woman put me in the pot with the others, I should have been boiled to pieces, as my comrades are.” “Would a better fate have fallen to my share?” said the Straw; “for the old woman has suffocated in fire and smoke all my brothers; sixty has she put on at once, and deprived of life; happily, I slipped between her fingers.”

  “But what shall we do now?” asked the Coal.

  “I think,” answered the Bean, “since we have so luckily escaped death, we will join in partnership, and keep together like good companions: lest a new misfortune overtake us, let us wander forth, and travel into a strange country.”

  This proposition pleased the two others, and they set out together on their travels. Presently they came to a little stream, over which there was no bridge or path, and they did not know how they should get over. The Straw gave good advice, and said, “I will lay myself across, so that you may cross over upon me, as upon a bridge.” So the Straw stretched itself from one bank to the other, and the Coal, which was of a fiery nature tripped lightly upon the newly-built bridge. But when it came to the middle of it, and heard the water running along beneath, it was frightened, and stood still, no daring to go further. The Straw, however, beginning to burn, broke in two and fell into the stream, and the Coal slipping after, hissed as it reached the water, and gave up the ghost. The Bean, which had prudently remained upon the shore, was forced to laugh at this accident, and the joke being so good, it laughed so immoderately that it burst itself. Now, they would all have been done for alike if a tailor, who was out on his wanderings, had not just then, by great good luck, sat himself down near the stream. Having a commiserating heart, he took out needle and thread, and sewed the Bean together. The Bean thanked him exceedingly; but, as the tailor used black thread it has happened since that time that every Bean has a black seam.

  Cinderella4

  Once upon a time the wife of a certain rich man fell very ill, and as she felt her end drawing nigh she called her only daughter to her bedside, and said: “My dear child, be pious and good, and then the good God will always protect you, and I will look down upon you from heaven and think of you.” Soon afterwards she closed her eyes and died. Every day the maiden went to her mother’s grave and wept over it, and she continued to be good and pious; but when the winter came, the snow made a white covering over the grave, and in the springtime, when the sun had withdrawn this covering, the father took to himself another wife.

  This wife brought home with her two daughters, who were beautiful and fair in the face, but treacherous and wicked at heart. Then an unfortunate era began in the poor step-child’s life. “Shall the stupid goose sit in the parlour with us?” said the two daughters. “They who would eat bread must earn it: out with the kitchen-maid.” So they took off her fine clothes, and put upon her an old grey cloak, and gave her wooden shoes for her feet. “See how the once proud princess is decked out now,” said they, and they led her mockingly into the kitchen. Then she was obliged to work hard from morning to night, and to go out early to fetch water, to make the fire, and cook and scour. The sisters treated her besides with every possible insult, derided her, and shook the peas and beans into the ashes, so that she had to pick them out again. At night, when she was tired, she had no bed to lie on, but was forced to sit in the ashes on the hearth; and because she looked dirty through this, they named her CINDERELLA.

  One day it happened that the father wanted to go to the fair, so he asked his two daughters what he should bring them. “Some beautiful dresses,” said one; “Pearls and precious stones,” replied the other. “But you, Cinderella,” said he, “what will you have?” “The first bough, father, that knocks against your hat on your way homewards, break it off for me,” she replied. So he bought the fine dresses, and the pearls and precious stones for his two step-daughters; and on his return, as he rode through a green thicket, a hazel-bough touched his hat which he broke off and took with him. As soon as he got home, he gave his step-daughters what they had wished for, and to Cinderella he gave the hazel-branch. She thanked him very much, and going to her mother’s grave she planted the branch on it, and wept so long that her tears fell and watered it, so that it grew and became a beautiful tree. Thrice a day Cinderella went beneath it to weep and pray; and each time a little white Bird flew on the tree, and if she wished aloud, then the little bird threw down to her whatever she wished for.

  After a time it fell out that the King appointed a festival, which was to last three days, and to which all the beautiful maidens in the country were invited, from whom his son was to choose a bride. When the two step-daughters heard that they might also appear, they were very glad, and, calling Cinderella, they said, “Comb our hair, brush our shoes, and fasten our buckles, for we are going to the festival at the King’s palace.” Cinderella obeyed crying, because she wished to go with them to the dance so she asked her step-mother whether she would allow her.

  Cinderella

  “You, Cinderella,” said she; “you are covered with dust and dirt—will you go to the festival? You have no clothes or shoes, and how can you dance?” But, as she urged her request, the mother said at last, “I have now shaken into the ashes a tubful of beans; if you have picked up them again in two hours, you shall go.”

  Then the maiden left the room, and went out at the back door into the garden, and called out, “You tame pigeons, and doves, and all you birds of heaven, come and help me to gather the good into the tub, and the bad ones you may eat.” Presently in at the kitchen window came two white pigeons, and after them the doves, and soon all the birds under
heaven flew chirping in and down upon the ashes. Then they began pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good seeds into the tub; and scarcely an hour had passed when all was completed, and the birds flew away again. Then the maiden took the tub to the step-mother, rejoicing at the thought that she might now go to the festival; but the step-mother said, “No, Cinderella, you have no clothes, and cannot dance; you will only be laughed at.” As she began to cry, the step-mother said, “If you can pick up quite clean two tubs of beans which I throw amongst the ashes in one hour, you shall accompany them;” and she thought to herself, “She will never manage it.” As soon as the two tubs had been shot into the ashes, Cinderella went out at the back-door into the garden, and called out as before, “You tame pigeons, and doves, and all you birds under heaven, come and help me to gather the good ones into the tubs, and the bad ones you may eat.” Presently in at the kitchen-window came two white pigeons, and after them the doves, and soon all the birds under heaven flew chirping in and down upon the ashes. Then they began pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good seeds into the tubs; and scarcely had half an hour passed before all was picked up, and off they flew again. The maiden now took the tubs to the step-mother, rejoicing at the thought that she could go to the festival. But the mother said, “It does not help you a bit; you cannot go with us, for you have no clothes, and cannot dance; we should be ashamed of you.” Thereupon she turned her back upon the maiden, and hastened away with her two proud daughters.

  As there was no one at home, Cinderella went to her mother’s grave, under the hazel-tree, and said:

  “Rustle and shake yourself, dear tree,

  And silver and gold throw down to me.”

  Then the Bird threw down a dress of gold and silver, and silken slippers ornamented with silver. These Cinderella put on in great haste, and then she went to the ball. Her sisters and step-mother did not know her at all, and took her for some foreign princess, as she looked so beautiful in her golden dress; for of Cinderella they thought not but that she was sitting at home picking the beans out of the ashes. Presently the Prince came up to her, and, taking her by the hand, led her to the dance. He would not dance with any one else, and even would not let go her hand; so that when any one else asked her to dance, he said, “She is my partner.” They danced till evening, when she wished to go home; but the Prince said, “I will go with you, and see you safe,” for he wanted to see to whom the maiden belonged. She flew away from him, however, and sprang into the pigeon-house; so the Prince waited till the father came, whom he told that the strange maiden had run into the pigeon-house. Then the step mother thought, “Could it be Cinderella?” And they brought an axe wherewith the Prince might cut open the door, but no one was found within. And when they came into the house, there lay Cinderella in her dirty clothes among the ashes, and an oil-lamp was burning in the chimney; for she had jumped quickly out on the other side of the pigeon-house, and had run to the hazel-tree, where she had taken off her fine clothes, and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them again, and afterwards she had put on her little grey cloak, and seated herself among the ashes in the kitchen.

  The next day, when the festival was renewed, and her step mother and her sisters had set out again, Cinderella went to the hazel-tree and sang as before:—

  “Rustle and shake yourself, dear tree,

  And silver and gold throw down to me.”

  Then the Bird threw down a much more splendid dress than the former and when the maiden appeared at the ball every one was astonished at her beauty. The Prince, however, who had waited till she came, took her hand, and would dance with no one else; and if others came and asked, he replied as before, “She is my partner.” As soon as evening came she wished to depart, and the Prince followed her, wanting to see into whose house she went; but she sprang away from him, and ran into the garden behind the house. Therein stood a fine large tree, on which hung the most beautiful pears, and the boughs rustled as though a squirrel was among them; but the Prince could not see whence the noise proceeded. He waited, however, till the father came, and told him, “The strange maiden has escaped from me, and I think she has climbed up into this tree.” The father thought to himself, “Can it be Cinderella?” and taking an axe he chopped down the tree, but there was no one on it. When they went into the kitchen, there lay Cinderella among the ashes, as before, for she had sprung down on the other side of the tree, and having taken her beautiful clothes again to the Bird upon the hazel-tree, she had put on once more her old grey cloak.

  The third day, when her step-mother and her sisters had set out, Cinderella went again to her mother’s grave, and said:—

  “Rustle and shake yourself, dear tree,

  And silver and gold throw down to me.”

  Then the Bird threw down to her a dress which was more splendid and glittering than she had ever had before, and the slippers were all golden. When she arrived at the ball they knew not what to say for wonderment, and the Prince danced with her alone as at first, and replied to every one who asked her hand, “She is my partner.” As soon as evening came she wished to go, and as the Prince followed her she ran away so quickly that he could not overtake her. But he had contrived a stratagem, and spread the whole way with pitch, so that it happened as the maiden ran that her left slipper came off. The Prince took it up, and saw it was small and graceful, and quite golden; so the following morning he went with it to the father, and said, “My bride shall be no other than she whose foot this golden slipper fits.” The two sisters were glad of this, for they had beautiful feet, and the elder went with it to her chamber to try it on, while her mother stood by. She could not, however, get her great toe into it, and the shoe was much too small; but the mother, reaching a knife, said, “Cut off your toe, for if you are queen you need not go any longer on foot.” The maiden cut it off, and squeezed her foot into the shoe, and, concealing the pain she felt, went down to the Prince. Then he placed her as his bride upon his horse and rode off, and as they passed by the grave, there sat two little doves upon the hazel-tree singing,

  “Backwards peep, backwards peep,

  There’s blood upon the shoe;

  The shoe’s too small, and she behind

  Is not the bride for you.”

  Then the Prince looked behind, and saw the blood flowing; so he turned his horse back, and took the false bride home again, saying she was not the right one. Then the other sister must needs fit on the shoe, so she went to her chamber and got her toes nicely into the shoe, but the heel was too large. The mother, reaching a knife, said, “Cut a piece off your heel, for when you become queen you need not go any longer on foot.” She cut a piece off her heel, squeezed her foot into the shoe, and, concealing the pain she felt, went down to the Prince. Then he put her upon his horse as his bride and rode off, and as they passed the hazel-tree there sat two little doves, who sang,

  “Backwards peep, backwards peep,

  There’s blood upon the shoe;

  The shoe’s too small, and she behind

  Is not the bride for you.”

  Then he looked behind, and saw the blood trickling from her shoe, and that the stocking was dyed quite red; so he turned his horse back, and took the false bride home again, saying, “Neither is this one the right maiden; have you no other daughter?” “No,” replied the father, “except a little Cinderella, daughter of my deceased wife, who cannot possibly be the bride.” The Prince asked that she might be fetched; but the step-mother said, “Oh no, she is much too dirty; I dare not let her be seen.” But the Prince would have his way; so Cinderella was called, and she, first washing her hands and face, went in and curtsied to the Prince, who gave her the golden shoe. Cinderella sat down on a stool, and, taking off her heavy wooden shoes, put on the slipper, which fitted her to a shade; and as she stood up, the Prince looked in her face, and, recognising the beautiful maiden with whom he had danced, exclaimed, “This is my rightful bride.” The step-mother and the two sisters were amazed and white with rage, but the Prince
took Cinderella upon his horse and rode away; and as they came up to the hazel-tree the two little white doves sang,

  “Backwards peep, backwards peep,

  There’s no blood on the shoe;

  It fits so nice, and she behind

  Is the true bride for you.”

  And as they finished they flew down and lighted upon Cinderella’s shoulders, and there they remained; and the wedding was celebrated with great festivities, and the two sisters were smitten with blindness as a punishment for their wickedness.

  The Riddle

  Once upon a time there was a King’s son, who had a mind to see the world; so he set forth, and took no one with him but a faithful servant. One day he came into a great forest, and when evening drew on he could find no shelter, and did not know where to pass the night. Just then he perceived a maiden who was going towards a little cottage, and as he approached he saw that she was young and beautiful, so he asked her whether he and his servant could find a welcome in the cottage for the night. “Yes, certainly,” replied the maiden in a sorrowful voice, “you can; but I advise you not to enter.” “Why not?” asked the Prince. The maiden sighed, and answered, “My step-mother practises wicked arts; she acts not hospitably to strangers.” He perceived now that he was come to a witch’s cottage; but because it was very dark, and he could go no further, he went in, for he was not at all afraid. The old woman was sitting in an arm-chair by the fire, and looked at the strangers out of her red eyes. “Good-evening,” she muttered, appearing very friendly; “sit yourselves down and rest.” Then she poked up the fire on which a little pot was boiling. The daughter warned them both to be cautious, and neither to eat or drink any thing, for the old woman brewed bad drinks; so they slept quietly till morning. As they made ready for their departure, and the Prince was already mounted on horseback, the old witch said, “Wait a bit, I will bring you a parting draught.” While she went for it the Prince rode away; but the servant, who had to buckle his saddle, was left alone when she came with the draught. “Take that to thy master,” she said, but at the same moment the glass cracked, and the poison spirted on the horse, and so strong was it that the poor animal fell backwards dead. The servant ran after his master, and told him what had occurred; but as he would not leave the saddle behind, he went back to fetch it. As he came to the dead horse he saw a crow perched upon it feeding himself. “Who knows whether we shall meet with anything better to-day?” said the servant, and killing the crow he took it with him. The whole day long they journeyed on in the forest, but could not get out of it; and at the approach of night, finding an inn, they entered it. The servant gave the crow to the host, that he might cook it for their supper; but they had fallen into a den of thieves, and in the gloom of night twelve ruffians came, intending to rob and murder the strangers. Before they began, however, they sat down to table, and the host and the witch joined them, and then they all partook of a dish of pottage,e in which the flesh of the crow was boiled. Scarcely had they eaten two morsels apiece when they all fell down dead; for the poison which had killed the horse was imparted to the flesh of the crow. There was now no one left in the house but the daughter of the host, who seemed to be honest, and had had no share in the wicked deeds. She opened all the doors to the Prince, and showed him the heaped-up treasure; but the Prince said she might keep it all, for he would have none of it, and so rode on further with his servant.