“Now,” said Hans, “more prudence than this is not necessary for my housekeeping; because you are such a clever Alice I will have you for my wife.” And, taking her hand, he led her home and celebrated the wedding directly.
After they had been married a little while, Hans said one morning, “Wife, I will go out to work and earn some money; do you go into the field and gather some corn wherewith to make bread.”
“Yes,” she answered, “I will do so, dear Hans.” And when he was gone, she cooked herself a nice mess of pottage, to take with her. As she came to the field, she said to herself, “What shall I do? Shall I cut first, or eat first? Ay, I will eat first!” Then she ate up the contents of her pot, and when it was finished, she thought to herself, “Now, shall I reap first or sleep first? Well, I think I will have a nap!” and so she laid herself down amongst the corn, and went to sleep. Meanwhile Hans returned home, but Alice did not come, and so he said, “Oh, what a prudent Alice I have; she is so industrious that she does not even come home to eat any thing.” By-and-by, however, evening came on, and still she did not return; so Hans went out to see how much she had reaped; but, behold, nothing at all, and there lay Alice fast asleep among the corn. So home he ran very fast, and brought a net with little bells hanging on it, which he threw over her head while she still slept on. When he had done this he went back again and shut to the house-door, and, seating himself on his stool, began working very industriously.
At last, when it was quite dark, the Clever Alice awoke, and as soon as she stood up the net fell all over her hair, and the bells jingled at every step she took. This quite frightened her, and she began to doubt whether she were really Clever Alice or no, and said to herself, “Am I she, or am I not?” This question she could not answer, and she stood still a long while considering. At last she thought she would go home and ask whether she were really herself—supposing they would be able to tell. When she came to the house-door it was shut; so she tapped at the window, and asked, “Hans, is Alice within?” “Yes,” he replied, “she is.” Now she was really terrified, and exclaiming, “Ah, heaven, then I am not Alice!” she ran up to another house; but as soon as the folks within heard the jingling of the bells they would not open their doors, and so nobody would receive her. Then she ran straight away from the village, and no one has ever seen her since.
The Table, the Ass, and the Stick
Along while ago there lived a Tailor who had three sons, but only a single Goat, which, as it had to furnish milk for all, was obliged to have good fodder every day, and to be led into the meadow for it. This the sons had to do by turns; and one morning the eldest took the Goat into the churchyard, where grew the finest herbs, which he let it eat, and then it frisked about undisturbed till the evening, when it was time to return; and then he asked, “Goat, are you satisfied?” The Goat replied—
“I am satisfied, quiet;
No more can I bite.”
“Then come home,” said the youth, and catching hold of the rope, he led it to the stall and made it fast. “Now,” said the old Tailor, “has the Goat had its proper food?” “Yes,” replied his son, “it has eaten all it can.” The father, however, would see for himself; and so, going into the stall, he stroked the goat and asked it whether it was satisfied. The Goat replied—
“Whereof should I be satisfied!
I only jumped about the graves,
And found not a single leaf.”
“What do I hear!” exclaimed the Tailor, and ran up to his son and said, “Oh, you bad boy! you said the Goat was satisfied, and then brought it away hungry;” and, taking the yard-measure down from the wall, he hunted his son out of the house in a rage.
The following morning was the second son’s turn, and he picked out a place in the garden-hedge, where some very fine herbs grew, which the Goat ate up entirely. When, in the evening, the wanted to return, he asked the Goat first whether it were satisfied, and it replied as before—
“I am satisfied, quite;
No more can I bite.”
“Then come home,” said the youth, and drove it to its stall, and tied it fast. Soon after the old Tailor asked, “Has the Goat had its usual food?” “Oh, yes!” answered his son; “it ate up all the leaves.” But the Tailor would see for himself, and so he went into the stall, and asked the Goat whether it had had enough.
“Whereof should I be satisfied!
I only jumped about the hedge,
And found not a single leaf.”
replied the animal.
“The wicked scamp!” exclaimed the Tailor, “to let such a capital animal starve!” and, running in doors, he drove his son out of the house with his yard-measure.
It was now the third son’s turn, and he, willing to make a good beginning, sought some bushes full of beautifully tender leaves, of which he let the Goat plentifully partake; and at evening time, when he wished to go home, he asked the Goat the same question as the others had done, and received the same answer—
“I am satisfied, quite;
No more can I bite.”
So then he led it home, and tied it up in its stall; and presently the old man came and asked whether the Goat had had its regular food, and the youth replied, “Yes.” But he would go and see for himself, and then the wicked beast told him, as it had done before—
“Whereof should I be satisfied?
I only jumped about the bush,
And found not a single leaf.”
“Oh, the scoundrel!” exclaimed the Tailor, in a rage “he is just as careless and forgetful as the others; he shall no longer eat of my bread!” and, rushing into the house he dealt his youngest son such tremendous blows with the yard-measure that the boy ran quite away.
The old Tailor was now left alone with his Goat, and the following morning he went to the stall, and fondled the animal, saying, “Come, my dear little creature; I will lead you myself into the meadow;” and, taking the rope he brought it to some green lettuces, and let it feed to its heart’s content. When evening arrived he asked it, as his sons had done before whether it were satisfied, and it replied—
“I am satisfied, quite;
No more can I bite.”
So he led it home, and tied it up in its stall; but, before he left it, he turned round and asked once more, “Are you quite satisfied?” The malicious brute answered in the same manner as before—
“Whereof should I be satisfied
I only jumped about the green,
And found not a single leaf.”
As soon as the Tailor heard this he was thunderstruck, and perceived directly that he had driven away his three sons without cause. “Stop a bit, you ungrateful beast!” he exclaimed. “To drive you away will be too little; I will mark you so that you shall no more dare to show yourself among honourable tailors.” So saying, he sprang up with great speed, and, fetching a razor, shaved the Goat’s head as bare as the palm of his hand; and, because the yard-measure was too honourable for such service, he laid hold of a whip, and gave the animal such hearty cuts with it, that it ran off as fast as possible.
When the old man sat down again in his house he fell into great grief, and would have been only too happy to have had his three sons back; but no one knew whither they had wandered.
The eldest, however, had gone apprentice to a joiner,g with whom he worked industriously and cheerfully; and when his time was out, his master presented him with a table, which had certainly a very ordinary appearance, and was made of common wood; but it had one excellent quality:—If its owner placed it before him, and said, “Table, cover thyself,” the good table was at once covered with a fine cloth, and plates, and knives and forks, and dishes of roast and baked meat took their places on it, and a great glass filled with red wine, which gladdened one’s heart. Our young fellow thought, “Herewith you have enough for your lifetime,” and went, full of glee, about the world, never troubling himself whether the inn were good or bad, or whether it contained any thing or nothing. Whenever he pleased he went
to no inn at all, but in the field, or wood, or any meadow, in fact, just where he liked to take the table off his back, and set it before him, saying, “Table, cover thyself,” he had all he could desire to eat and drink.
At last it came into his head that he would return to his father, whose anger, he thought, would be abated by time, and with whom he might live very comfortably with his excellent table. It fell out that, on his journey home, he one evening arrived at an inn which was full of people, who bade him welcome, and invited him to come in and eat with them, or he would get nothing at all. But our Joiner replied, “No; I will not take a couple of bites with you; you must rather be my guests.” At this the others laughed, and thought he was making game of them; but he placed his wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, “Table, cover thyself;” and in the twinkling of an eye it was set out with meats as good as any that the host could have furnished, and the smell of which mounted very savoury into the noses of the guests. “Be welcome, good friends,” said the Joiner; and the guests, when they saw he was in earnest, waited not to be asked twice, but, quickly seating themselves, set to valiantly with their knives. What made them most wonder, however, was that when any dish became empty, another full one instantly took its place; and the landlord, who stood in a corner looking on, thought to himself, “You could make good use of such a cook as that in your trade;” but he said nothing. Meanwhile the Joiner and his companions sat making merry till late at night; but at last they went to bed, and the Joiner too, who placed his wishing-table against the wall before going to sleep. The landlord, however, could not get to sleep, for his thoughts troubled him, and, suddenly remembering that there stood in his lumber-room an old table which was useless, he went and fetched it, and put it in the place of the wishing-table. The next morning the Joiner counted out his lodging-money, and placed the table on his back, ignorant that it had been changed, and went his way. At noon-day he reached his father’s house, and was received with great joy.
“Now, my dear son,” said the old man, “what have you learned?”
“I have become a joiner, father.”
“A capital trade, too. But what have you brought home with you from your travels?”
“The best thing I have brought,” said the youth, “is this table.”
The father looked at it on every side, and said, “You have made a very bad hand of that; it is an old, worthless table.”
“But,” interrupted his son, “it is one which covers itself; and when I place it before me and say, ‘Table, cover thyself,’ it is instantly filled with the most savoury meats and wine, which will make your heart sing. Just invite your friends and acquaintances, and you shall soon see how they will be refreshed and revived.”
As soon, then, as the company was arrived, he placed his table in the middle of the room, and called out to it to cover itself. But the table did not stir, and remained as empty as any other table which does not understand what is spoken; and the poor Joiner at once perceived that the table was changed, and he was ashamed to appear thus like an impostor before the guests, who laughed at him and were obliged to go home without eating or drinking. So the father took up his mending again, and stitched away as fast as ever, and the son was obliged to go and work for a master carpenter.
Meanwhile the second son had been living with a miller, and learning his trade, and as soon as his time was up, his master said to him, “Because you have served me so well, I present you with this ass, which has a wonderful gift, although it neither can draw a wagon nor carry a sack.” “For what, then, is it useful?” asked the youth. “It speaks gold,” replied the miller. “If you tie a pocket under his chin, and cry, ‘Bricklebrit,’ then the good beast will pour out gold coin like hail.” “That is a very fine thing,” thought the youth; and, thanking the master, he went off upon his journey. Now, whenever he needed money, he had only to say to his ass, “Bricklebrit,” and it rained down gold pieces, so that he had no other trouble than to pick them up again from the ground. Wherever he went the best only was good enough for him, and the dearer it was the better, for he had always a full purse. When he had looked about him for some time in the world, he thought he would go and visit his father, whose anger he supposed had abated, and moreover since he brought with him an ass of gold, he would no doubt receive him gladly. It so happened that he came to the very same inn where his brother’s table had been changed, and as he came up, leading his ass by the hand, the landlord would have taken it and tied it up, but our young master said to him, “You need not trouble yourself; I will lead my grey beast myself into the stable and tie him, for I must know where he stands.” The landlord wondered at this, and he thought that one who looked after his own beast would not spend much; but presently our friend, dipping into his pocket and taking out two pieces of gold, gave them to him, and bade him fetch the best he could. This made the landlord open his eyes, and he ran and fetched, in a great hurry, the best he could get. When he had finished his meal, the youth asked what further he was indebted, and the landlord, having no mind to spare him, said that a couple of gold pieces more was due. The youth felt in his pocket, but his money was just at an end; so he exclaimed, “Wait a bit, my landlord; I will go and fetch some gold,” and, taking the table-cloth with him, he went out. The landlord knew not what to think, but being covetous he slinked out after the youth, and, as he bolted the stable-door, the landlord peeped through a hole in the wall. The youth spread the cloth beneath the ass, and called out, “Brickle-brit,” and in a moment the beast began to speak out gold, as if rain were falling. “By the powers,” exclaimed the landlord, “ducats are soon coined so; that is not a bad sort of purse!” The youth now paid his bill and laid down to sleep, but in the middle of the night the landlord slipped into the stable, and led away the mint-master, and tied up a different ass in its place.
In the morning early, the youth drove away with his ass, thinking it was his own, and at noon-day he arrived at his father’s, who was very glad to see him return, and received him kindly. “What trade have you become?” asked the father. “A miller,” was the reply. “And what have you brought home with you from your wanderings?” “Nothing but an ass.” “Oh, there are plenty of that sort here now; it had far better been a goat,” said the old man. “Yes,” replied the son, “but this is no common animal, but one which, when I say ‘Bricklebrit,’ speaks gold right and left. Just call your friends here, and I will make them all rich in a twinkling.” “Well,” exclaimed the Tailor, “that would please me very well, and so I need not use my needle any more;” and running out he called together all his acquaintances. As soon as they were assembled, the young Miller bade them make a circle, and, spreading out a cloth, he brought the ass into the middle of the room. “Now, pay attention,” said he to them, and called out, “Bricklebrit;” but not a single gold piece fell, and it soon appeared that the ass did not understand, for it is not every one that can be so taught. The poor young man began to make a long face, when he saw that he had been deceived, and he was obliged to beg pardon of the guests, who were forced to return as poor as they came. So it happened that the old man had to take to his needle again, and the youth to bind himself with another master.
Meanwhile the third brother had gone to a turnerh to learn his trade; but he got on very slowly, as it was a very difficult art to acquire. And while he was there, his brothers sent him word how badly things had gone with them, and how the landlord had robbed them of their wishing-gifts on their return home. When the time came round that he had learnt every thing and wished to leave, his master presented him with a sack, saying, “In it there lies a stick.”
“I will take the sack readily, for it may do me good service,” replied the youth. “But what is the stick for it only makes the sack heavier to carry.”
“That I will tell you:—If any one does you an injury, you have only to say, ‘Stick, out of the sack!’ and instantly the stick will spring out, and dance about on the people’s backs in such style that they will not be abl
e to stir a finger for a week afterwards; and, moreover, it will not leave off till you say, ‘Stick, get back into the sack.’ ”
The youth thanked him, and hung the sack over his shoulders; and when any one came too near, and wished to meddle with him, he said, “Stick, come out of the sack,” and immediately it sprang out, and began laying about it; and when he called it back, it disappeared so quickly that no one could tell where it came from.
One evening he arrived at the inn where his brothers had been basely robbed, and, laying his knapsack on the table, he began to talk of all the wonderful things he had seen in the world. “Yes,” said he, “one may find, indeed, a table which supplies itself, and a golden ass, and suchlike things—all very good in their place, and I do not despise them; but they shrink into nothing beside the treasure which I carry with me in this sack.”
The landlord pricked up his ears, saying, “What on earth can it be?” but he thought to himself, “The sack is certainly full of precious stones, and I must manage to get hold of them; for all good things come in threes.”
As soon as it was bedtime our youth stretched himself upon a bench, and laid his sack down for a pillow; and, when he appeared to be in a deep sleep, the landlord crept softly to him, and began to pull very gently and cautiously at the sack, to see if he could manage to draw it away, and put another in its place. The young Turner, however, had been waiting for him to do this, and, just as the man gave a good pull, he exclaimed, “Stick, out of the sack with you!” Immediately out it jumped, and thumped about on the landlord’s back and ribs with a good will.
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 17