The landlord began to cry for mercy, but the louder he cried, the more forcibly did the stick beat time on his back, until at last he fell exhausted to the ground.
Then the Turner said, “If you do not give up the table which feeds itself, and the golden ass, that dance shall commence again.”
“No, no!” cried the landlord, in a weak voice; “I will give them up with pleasure, but just let your horrible hobgoblin get back into his sack.”
“I will give you pardon, if you do right; but, take care what you are about,” replied the Turner; and he let him rest, and bade the stick return.
On the following morning the Turner, accordingly, went away with the table and the ass, on his road home to his father, who, as soon as he saw him, felt very glad, and asked what he had learned in foreign parts.
“Dear father,” replied he, “I have become a turner.”
“A difficult business that; but what have you brought back with you from your travels?”
“A precious stick,” replied the son; “a stick in this sack.”
“What!” exclaimed the old man, “a stick! Well, that is worth the trouble! Why, you can cut one from every tree!”
“But not such a stick as this; for if I say, ‘Stick, out of the sack,’ it instantly jumps out, and executes such a dance upon the back of any one who would injure me, that at last he is beaten to the ground, crying for mercy. Do you see, with this stick I have got back again the wonderful table and the golden ass of which the thievish landlord robbed my brothers? Now, let them both be summoned home, and invite all your acquaintances, and I will not only give them plenty to eat and drink, but pocketfuls of money.”
The old Tailor would scarcely believe him; but, nevertheless, he called in his friends. Then the young Turner placed a table-cloth in the middle of the room, and led on the ass, saying to his brother, “Now, speak to him.”
The Miller called out “Bricklebrit!” and in a moment the gold pieces dropped down on the floor in a pelting shower; and so it continued until they had all so much that they could carry no more. (I fancy my readers would have been very happy to have been there too!!)
After this the table was fetched in, and the Joiner said, “Table, cover thyself;” and it was at once filled with the choicest dishes. Then they began such a meal as the Tailor had never had before in his house; and the whole company remained till late at night merry and jovial.
The next day the Tailor forsook needle and thread, and put them all away, with his measures and goose, in a cupboard, and for ever after lived happily and contentedly with his three sons.
But now I must tell you what became of the Goat, whose fault it was that the three brothers were driven away. It was so ashamed of its bald head that it ran into a Fox’s hole and hid itself. When the Fox came home he saw a pair of great eyes looking at him in the darkness, which so frightened him that he ran back, and presently met a Bear, who, perceiving how terrified Reynard appeared, said to him, “What is the matter, Brother Fox, that you make such a face?”
“Ah!” he replied, “in my hole sits a horrible beast, who glared at me with most fiery eyes.”
“Oh! we will soon drive it out,” said the Bear; and, going up to the hole, he peeped in himself; but, as soon as he saw the fiery eyes, he also turned tail, and would have nothing to do with the terrible beast, and so took to flight. On his way a Bee met him, and soon saw he could not feel much through his thick coat; and so she said, “You are making a very rueful face, Mr. Bear; pray, where have you left your merry one?”
“Why,” answered Bruin, “a great horrible beast has laid himself down in Reynard’s house, and glares there with such fearful eyes, we cannot drive him out.”
“Well, Mr. Bear,” said the Bee, “I am sorry for you; I am a poor creature whom you never notice, but yet I believe I can help you.”
So saying, she flew into the Fox’s hole, and, settling on the clean-shaved head of the Goat, stung it so dreadfully that the poor animal sprang up and ran madly off; and nobody knows to this hour where it ran to.
Thumbling
Once upon a time there lived a poor peasant, who used to sit every evening by the hearth, poking the fire, while his wife spun. One night he said, “How sad it is that we have no children; every thing is so quiet here, while in other houses it is so noisy and merry.”
“Ah!” sighed his wife, “if we had but only one, and were he no bigger than my thumb, I should still be content, and love him with all my heart.” A little while after the wife fell ill; and after seven months a child was born, who, although he was perfectly formed in all his limbs, was not actually bigger than one’s thumb. So they said to one another that it had happened just as they wished; and they called the child “Thumbling.” Every day they gave him all the food he could eat; still he did not grow a bit, but remained exactly the height he was when first born; he looked about him, however, very knowingly, and showed himself to be a bold and clever fellow, who prospered in every thing he undertook.
One morning the peasant was making ready to go into the forest to fell wood, and said, “Now I wish I had some one who could follow me with the cart.”
“Oh! father,” exclaimed Thumbling, “I will bring the cart; don’t you trouble yourself; it shall be there at the right time.”
The father laughed at this speech, and said, “How shall that be? You are much too small to lead the horse by the bridle.”
“That matters not, father. If mother will harness the horse, I can sit in his ear, and tell him which way to take.”
“Well, we will try for once,” said the father; and so, when the hour came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed Thumbling in its ear, and told him how to guide it. Then he set out quite like a man, and the cart went on the right road to the forest; and just as it turned a corner, and Thumbling called out “Steady, steady,” two strange men met it; and one said to the other, “My goodness, what is this? Here comes a cart, and the driver keeps calling to the horse; but I can see no one.” “That cannot be all right,” said the other: “let us follow and see where the cart stops.”
The cart went on safely deep into the forest, and straight to the place where the wood was cut. As soon as Thumbling saw his father, he called to him, “Here, father; here I am, you see, with the cart: just take me down.” The peasant caught the bridle of the horse with his left hand, and with his right took his little son out of its ear; and he sat himself down merrily on a straw. When the two strangers saw the little fellow, they knew not what to say for astonishment; and one of them took his companion aside, and said, “This little fellow might make our fortune if we could exhibit him in the towns. Let us buy him.” They went up to the peasant, and asked, “Will you sell your son? We will treat him well.” “No,” replied the man; “he is my heart’s delight, and not to be bought for all the money in the world!” But Thumbling, when he heard what was said, climbed up by his father’s shirt, and set himself on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Let me go now, and I will soon come back again.” So his father gave him to the two men for a fine piece of gold; and they asked him where he would sit. “Oh,” replied he, “put me on the rim of your hat; and then I can walk round and survey the country. I will not fall off.” They did as he wished; and when he had taken leave of his father, they set out. Just as it was getting dark he asked to be lifted down; and, after some demur, the man on whose hat he was took him off and placed him on the ground. In an instant Thumbling ran off, and crept into a mouse-hole, where they could not see him. “Good evening, masters,” said he, “you can go home without me;” and with a quiet laugh he crept into his hole still further. The two men poked their sticks into the hole, but all in vain; for Thumbling only went down further; and when it had grown quite dark they were obliged to return home full of vexation and with empty pockets.
As soon as Thumbling perceived that they were off, he crawled out of his hiding-place, and said, “How dangerous it is to walk in this field in the dark: one might soon break one�
�s head or legs;” and so saying he looked round, and by great good luck saw an empty snail-shell. “God be praised,” he exclaimed, “here I can sleep securely;” and in he went. Just as he was about to fall asleep he heard two men coming by, one of whom said to the other, “How shall we manage to get at the parson’s gold and silver?”
“That I can tell you,” interrupted Thumbling.
“What was that?” exclaimed the thief, frightened. “I heard some one speak.” They stood still and listened; and then Thumbling said, “Take me with you, and I will help you.”
“Where are you?” asked the thieves.
“Search on the ground, and mark where my voice comes from,” replied he. The thief looked about, and at last found him; and lifted him up in the air. “What, will you help us, you little wight?”i said they. “Do you see I can creep between the iron bars into the chamber of the parson, and reach out to you whatever you require.”
“Very well; we will see what you can do,” said the thief.
When they came to the house, Thumbling crept into the chamber, and cried out with all his might, “Will you have all that is here?” The thieves were terrified, and said, “Speak gently, or some one will awake.”
But Thumbling feigned not to understand, and exclaimed louder still, “Will you have all that is here?”
This awoke the cook, who slept in the room, and sitting up in her bed she listened. The thieves, however, had run back a little way, quite frightened; but, taking courage again, and thinking the little fellow wished to tease them, they came and whispered to him to make haste and hand them out something. At this, Thumbling cried out still more loudly, “I will give you it all, only put your hands in.” The listening maid heard this clearly, and, springing out of bed, hurried out at the door. The thieves ran off as if they were pursued by the wild huntsman, but the maid, as she could see nothing, went to strike a light. When she returned, Thumbling escaped without being seen into the barn, and the maid, after she had looked round and searched in every corner, without finding any thing, went to bed again, believing she had been dreaming with her eyes open. Meanwhile Thumbling had crept in amongst the hay, and found a beautiful place to sleep, where he intended to rest till daybreak, and then to go home to his parents.
Other things, however, was he to experience, for there is much tribulation and trouble going on in this world.
The maid got up at dawn of day to feed the cow. Her first walk was to the barn, where she took an armful of hay, and just the bundle where poor Thumbling lay asleep. He slept so soundly, however, that he was not conscious, and only awoke when he was in the cow’s mouth. “Ah, goodness!” exclaimed he, “however came I into this mill?” but soon he saw where he really was. Then he took care not to come between the teeth, but presently slipped quite down the cow’s throat. “There are no windows in this room,” said he to himself, “and no sunshine, and I brought no light with me.” Overhead his quarters seemed still worse, and, more than all, he felt his room growing narrower, as the cow swallowed more hay. So he began to call out in terror as loudly as he could, “Bring me no more food. I do not want any more food!” Just then the maid was milking the cow, and when she heard the voice without seeing any thing, and knew it was the same she had listened to in the night, she was so frightened that she slipped off her stool and overturned the milk. In great haste she ran to her master, saying, “Oh, Mr. Parson, the cow has been speaking.”
“You are crazy,” he replied; but still he went himself into the stable to see what was the matter, and scarcely had he stepped in when Thumbling began to shout out again, “Bring me no more food, bring me no more food.” This terrified the parson himself, and he thought an evil spirit had entered into his cow, and so ordered her to be killed. As soon as that was done, and they were dividing the carcase, a fresh accident befell Thumbling, for a wolf, who was passing at the time, made a snatch at the cow, and tore away the part where he was stuck fast. However, he did not lose courage, but as soon as the wolf had swallowed him, he called out from inside, “Oh, Mr. Wolf, I know of a capital meal for you.” “Where is it to be found?” asked the wolf. “In the house by the meadow; you must creep though the gutter, and there you will find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, as many as you can eat,” replied Thumbling, describing exactly his father’s house.
The wolf did not wait to be told twice, but in the night crept in, and ate away in the larder, to his heart’s content. When he had finished, he tried to escape by the way he entered, but the hole was not large enough. Thereupon Thumbling, who had reckoned on this, began to make a tremendous noise inside the poor wolf, screaming and shouting as loud as he could. “Will you be quiet?” said the wolf; “you will awake the people.” “Eh, what!” cried the little man, “since you have satisfied yourself, it is my turn now to make merry;” and he set up a louder howling than before. At last his father and mother awoke, and came to the room and looked through the chinks of the door; and as soon as they perceived the ravages the wolf had committed, they ran and brought, the man, his axe, and the woman, the scythe. “Stop you behind,” said the man, as they entered the room; “if my blow does not kill him, you must give him a cut with your weapon, and chop off his head if you can.”
When Thumbling heard his father’s voice, he called out, “Father dear, I am here, in the wolf’s body!” “Heaven be praised,” said the man, full of joy, “our dear child is found again;” and he bade his wife take away the scythe, lest it should do any harm to his son. Then he raised his axe, and gave the wolf such a blow on its head that it fell dead, and, taking a knife, he cut it open and released the little fellow, his son. “Ah,” said his father, “what trouble we have had about you.” “Yes, father,” replied Thumbling, “I have been traveling a great deal about the world. Heaven be praised! I breathe fresh air again.”
“Where have you been, my son?” he inquired.
“Once I was in a mouse’s hole, once inside a cow, and lastly inside that wolf; and now I will stop here with you,” said Thumbling.
“Yes,” said the old people, “we will not sell you again for all the riches of the world;” and they embraced and kissed him with great affection. Then they gave him plenty to eat and drink, and had new clothes made for him, for his old ones were worn out with traveling.
The Wedding of Mrs. Fox
FIRST TALE.
There was once upon a time a Fox with nine tails, who thought his wife was not faithful to him, and determined to put it to the proof. So he stretched himself along under a bench, and, keeping his legs perfectly still, he appeared as if quite dead. Mrs. Fox, meanwhile, had ascended to her room, and shut herself in; and her maid, the young Cat, stood near the hearth cooking. As soon as it was known that Mr. Fox was dead, several suitors came to pay their respects to his widow. The maid, hearing some one knocking at the front door, went and looked out, and saw a young Fox, who asked,
“How do you do, Miss Kitten?
Is she asleep or awake?”
The maid replied,
“I neither sleep nor wake;
Would you know my business!
Beer and butter both I make;
Come and be my guest!”
“I am obliged, Miss Kitten,” said the young Fox; “but how is Mrs. Fox?”
The maid replied,
“She sits in her chamber,
Weeping so sore;
Her eyes red with crying—
Mr. Fox is no more.”
“Tell her then, my maiden, that a young Fox is here, who wishes to marry her,” said he. So the Cat went pit-pat, pit-a-pat up the stairs, and tapped gently at the door, saying, “Are you there, Madam Fox?” “Yes, my good little Cat,” was the reply. “There is a suitor below.” “What does he look like?” asked her mistress. “Has he nine as beautiful tails as my late husband?” “Oh no,” answered the maid, “he has only one.” “Then I will not have him,” said the mistress. The young Cat went down and sent away the suitor; and soon after there came a second knock at the door, fro
m another Fox with two tails, who wished to marry the widow; he fared, however, no better than the former one. Afterwards came six more, one after the other, each having one tail more than he who preceded him; but these were all turned away. At last there arrived a Fox with nine tails, like the deceased husband, and when the widow heard of it, she said, full of joy, to the Cat, “Now you may open all the windows and doors, and turn the old Fox out of the house.” But just as the wedding was about to be celebrated, the old Fox roused himself from his sleep beneath the bench, and drubbed the whole rabble, together with his wife, out of the house, and hunted them far away.
A SECOND ACCOUNT.
Narrates that when the old Fox appeared dead, the Wolf came as a suitor, and knocked at the door; and the Cat, who served as servant to the widow, got up to see who was there.
“Good day, Miss Cat; how does it happen that you are sitting all alone? What good are you about?”
The Cat answered, “I have been making some bread and milk. Will my lord be my guest?”
“Thanks, many thanks,” replied the Wolf, “is Madam Fox not at home?”
The Cat sung,
“She sits in her chamber,
Weeping so sore;
Her eyes red with crying—
Mr. Fox is no more.”
Then the Wolf said, “If she wishes for another husband, she had better come down to me.”
So the Cat ran up the stairs, her tail trailing behind, and when she got to the chamber door, she knocked five times, and asked, “Is Madam Fox at home? If so, and she wishes to have another husband, she must come down stairs.”
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 18