Mrs. Fox asked, “Does the gentleman wear red stockings, and has he a pointed mouth?” “No,” replied the Cat. “Then he will not do for me,” said Mrs. Fox, and shut the door.
After the Wolf had been turned away, there came a Dog, a Stag, a Hare, a Bear, a Lion, and all the beasts of the forest, one after another. But each one was deficient of the particular qualities which the old Fox had possessed, and the Cat was obliged therefore to turn away every suitor. At last came a young Fox; and when the question was asked whether he had red stockings and a pointed mouth, the cat replied, “Yes,” and she was bid to call him up and prepare for the wedding. Then they threw the old Fox out of the window, and the Cat caught and ate as many mice as she could, in celebration of the happy event.
And after the marriage they had a grand ball, and, as I have never heard to the contrary, perhaps they are dancing still.
The Little Elves
FIRST STORY.
There was once a Shoemaker, who, from no fault of his own, had become so poor that at last he had nothing left, but just sufficient leather for one pair of shoes. In the evening he cut out the leather, intending to make it up in the morning; and, as he had a good conscience, he lay quietly down to sleep, first commending himself to God. In the morning he said his prayers, and then sat down to work; but behold the pair of shoes was already made, and there they stood upon his board. The poor man was amazed, and knew not what to say; but he took the shoes into his hand to look at them more closely, and they were so neatly worked that not a stitch was done wrong; just as if they had been done for a prize. Presently a customer came in; and because the shoes pleased him very much, he paid down more than was usual; and so much that the Shoemaker was able to buy with it leather for two pairs. By the evening he had got his leather shaped out; and when he arose the next morning he prepared to work with fresh spirit; but there was no need,—for the shoes stood all perfect on his board. He did not want either for customers; for two came who paid him so liberally for the shoes, that he bought with the money material for four pairs more. These also, when he awoke, he found all ready-made, and so it continued; what he cut out overnight was, in the morning, turned into the neatest shoes possible. This went on until he had regained his former appearance, and was even becoming a prosperous man.
One evening—not long before Christmas—as he had cut out the usual quantity, he said to his wife, before going to bed, “What say you to stopping up this night, to see who it is that helps us so kindly?” His wife was satisfied, and fastened up a light; and then they hid themselves in the corner of the room, where hung some clothes which concealed them. As soon as it was midnight in came two little manikins, who squatted down on the board; and, taking up the prepared work, set to with their little fingers, stitching, and sewing, and hammering so swiftly and lightly, that the Shoemaker could not take his eyes off them for astonishment. They did not cease until all was brought to an end, and the shoes stood ready on the table; and then they sprang quickly away.
The following morning the wife said, “The little men have made us rich, and we must show our gratitude to them; for although they run about, they must be cold, for they have nothing on their bodies. I will make a little shirt, coat, waistcoat, trousers, and stockings for each, and do you make a pair of shoes for each.”
The husband assented; and one evening, when all was ready, they laid presents, instead of the usual work, on the board, and hid themselves to see the result.
At midnight in came the Elves, jumping about, and soon prepared to work; but when they saw no leather, but the natty little clothes,—they at first were astonished, but soon showed their rapturous glee. They drew on their coats, and, smoothing them down, sang,— and so they went on hopping and jumping over the stools and chairs, and at last out at the door. After that evening they did not come again; but the Shoemaker prospered in all he undertook, and lived happily to the end of his days.
“Smart and natty boys are we;
Shoemakers we’ll no longer be;”
SECOND STORY.
Once upon a time there was a poor servant girl, who was both industrious and cleanly, for every day she dusted the house and shook out the sweepings on a great heap before the door. One morning, just as she was going to throw them away, she saw a letter lying among them, and, as she could not read, she put her broom by in a corner, and took it to her master. It contained an invitation from the Elves, asking the girl to stand godmother to one of their children. The girl did not know what to do, but at last, after much consideration, she consented, for the little men will not easily take a refusal. So there came three Elves, who conducted her to a hollow mountain where they lived. Every thing was very small of course, but all more neat and elegant than I can tell you. The mother lay in a bed of ebony studded with pearls, and the coverings were all wrought with gold; the cradle was made of ivory, and the bath was of gold. The girl stood godmother, and afterwards wished to return home, but the little Elves pressed her earnestly to stay three days longer. So she remained, passing the time in pleasure and play, for the Elves behaved very kindly to her. At the end of the time she prepared to return home, but first they filled her pockets full of gold, and then led her out of the hill. As soon as she reached the house, she took the broom, which still stood in the corner, and went on with her sweeping; and presently out of the house came some strange people, who asked her who she was, and what she was doing there. Then she found out that it was not three days, as she had supposed, but seven years that she had passed with the little Elves in the hill, and that her former master had died in her absence.
THIRD STORY.
The little Elves once stole a child out of its cradle and put in its place a changelingj with a clumsy head and red eyes, who would neither eat nor drink. The mother in great trouble went to a neighbour to ask her advice, and she advised her to carry the changeling into the kitchen, set it on the hearth, and boil water in two egg-shells. If the changeling was made to laugh, then all was up with him. The woman did all the neighbour said, and as she set the egg-shells over the fire the creature sung out—and then it burst into a hoarse laugh. While he was laughing a number of little Elves entered, bringing the real child, whom they placed on the hearth, and then they took away the changeling with them.
“Though I am as old as the oldest tree,
Cooking in an egg-shell never did I see;”
The Robber Bridegroom
There was once a Miller who had a beautiful daughter, whom he much wished to see well married. Not long after there came a man who appeared very rich, and the Miller, not knowing any thing to his disadvantage, promised his daughter to him. The maiden, however, did not take a fancy to this suitor, nor could she love him as a bride should; and, moreover, she had no confidence in him, but as often as she looked at him, or thought about him, her heart sank within her. Once he said to her, “You are my bride, yet you never visit me.” The maiden answered, “I do not know where your house is.” “It is deep in the shades of the forest,” said the man. Then the maiden tried to excuse herself by saying she should not be able to find it; but the Bridegroom said, “Next Sunday you must come and visit me; I have already invited guests, and in order that you may find your way through the forest I will strew the path with ashes.”
When Sunday came, the maiden prepared to set out; but she felt very anxious and knew not why, and, in order that she might know her way back, she filled her pockets with beans and peas. These she threw to the right and left of the path of ashes, which she followed till it led her into the thickest part of the forest; there she came to a solitary house, which looked so gloomy and desolate that she felt quite miserable. She went in, but no one was there, and the most profound quiet reigned throughout. Suddenly a voice sang—
“Return, fair maid, return to your home:
’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.”
The maiden looked round, and perceived that it was a bird in a cage against the wall which sang the words. Once more it uttered them
—
“Return, fair maid, return to your home;
’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.”
Now the maiden went from one room to the other, through the whole house, but all were empty, and not a human being was to be seen anywhere. At last she went into the cellar, and there sat a withered old woman, shaking her head. “Can you tell me,” asked the maiden, “whether my bridegroom lives in this house?”
“Ah, poor girl,” said the old woman, “when are you to be married? You are in a murderer’s den. You think to be a bride, and to celebrate your wedding, but you will only wed with Death! See here, I have a great caldron filled with water, and if you fall into their power they will kill you without mercy, cook, and eat you, for they are cannibals. If I do not have compassion and save you, you are lost.”
So saying, the old woman led her behind a great cask, where no one could see her. “Be as still as a mouse,” said she, “and don’t move hand or foot, or all is lost. At night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape; I have long sought an opportunity.” She had scarcely finished speaking when the wicked band returned, dragging with them a poor girl, to whose shrieks and cries they paid no attention. They gave her some wine to drink, three glasses, one white, one red, and one yellow, and at the last she fell down in a swoon. Then they tore off her fine clothes, chopped her beautiful body into pieces, and sprinkled them with salt. Meanwhile the poor Bride behind the cask trembled and shuddered to see what a fate would have been hers. Presently one of the robbers remarked a gold ring on the finger of the murdered girl, and, as he could not draw it off easily, he took a hatchet and chopped off the finger. But the finger, with the force of the blow, flew up and fell behind the cask, right into the lap of the Bride; and the robber, taking a light, went to seek it, but could not find it. Then one of the others asked, “Have you looked behind the cask?”
“Oh! do come and eat,” cried the old woman in a fright: “come and eat, and leave your search till the morning: the finger will not run away.”
“The old woman is right,” said the robbers, and, desisting from their search, they sat down to their meal; and the old woman mixed with their drink a sleeping draught; so that presently they lay down to sleep on the floor and snored away. As soon as the Bride heard them, she came from behind the cask and stepped carefully over the sleepers, who lay side by side, fearing to awake any of them. Heaven helped her in her trouble, and she got over this difficulty well; and the old woman started up too and opened the door, and then they made as much haste as they could out of the murderer’s den. The wind had blown away the ashes, but the beans and peas the Bride had scattered in the morning had sprouted up, and now showed the path in the moonlight. All night long they walked on, and by sunrise they came to the mill, and the poor girl narrated her adventures to her father, the Miller.
Now, when the day came, that the wedding was to be celebrated, the Bridegroom appeared, and the Miller gathered together all his relations and friends. While they sat at table each kept telling some tale, but the Bride sat silent, listening. Presently the Bridegroom said, “Can you not tell us something, my heart; do not you know of anything to tell?”
“Yes,” she replied, “I will tell you a dream of mine. I thought I went through a wood, and by-and-by I arrived at a house wherein there was not a human being, but on the wall there hung a bird in a cage, who sang— And it sang this twice.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then I went through all the rooms, and every one was empty and desolate, and at last I stepped down into the cellar, and there sat a very old woman, shaking her head from side to side. I asked her, ‘Does my bridegroom dwell in this house?’ and she replied, ‘Ah, dear child, you have fallen into a murderer’s den; thy lover does dwell here, but he will kill you, and then he’ll cook and eat you.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then I thought that the old woman hid me behind a great cask, and scarcely had she done so when the robbers came home, dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three glasses of wine, one red, one white, and one yellow; and at the third her heart snapped. They pulled off her fine clothes, chopped her beautiful body into pieces, and sprinkled them with salt.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then one of the robbers saw a gold ring on her finger, and because he could not draw it off he took up a hatchet and hewed at it, and the finger flew up, and fell behind the cask into my lap. And there is the finger with the ring!”
‘Return, fair maid, return to your home;
’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.’
With these words she threw it down before him, and showed it to all present.
The robber, who during her narration had become pale as death, now sprang up, and would have escaped; but the guests held him, and delivered him up to the judges.
And soon afterwards he and his whole band were condemned to death for their wicked deeds.
Herr Korbes
There once lived a Cock and a Hen, who agreed to set out on their travels together. The Cock therefore bought a smart carriage, which had four red wheels, and to which he harnessed four little Mice; and then the Hen got inside along with him, and they set off together. They had not gone far, when they met a Cat, who asked them where they were going. The Cock answered, “To Herr Korbes.” “Will you take me with you?” said the Cat. “Oh yes willingly; but get up behind, for you might fall out in front, and take care that you do not dirty my red wheels,” replied the Cock; and then he cried, “Now turn away little Wheels, and hurry on, little Mice, or we shall be too late to find Herr Korbes at home.”
On the road there afterwards came a Grindstone, a Pin, an Egg, a Duck, and, last of all, a Needle, and every one mounted into the carriage and went on with it. When they arrived at the house, Herr Korbes was not at home so the Mice drew the carriage into the barn, the Cock and Hen flew on to a perch, the Cat seated herself on the hearth, the Duck perched on a water-butt, the Egg wrapped itself up in the towel, the Pin hid itself in the cushion of a chair, the Needle jumped on to the bed and buried itself in the pillow, and the Grindstone placed itself just over the door. Soon afterwards Herr Korbes returned, and going to the hearth poked the fire; then the Cat threw the ashes in his face. He ran into the kitchen to wash himself, and the Duck spirted the water in his eyes; so he took up the towel to wipe them, and the Egg broke and ran about over his chin. All these mishaps made him feel tired, and he dropped into a chair to rest himself; but the Pin was there before him, and made him jump up in a rage and throw himself on the bed; where the Needle in the pillow pricked him so that he shouted with pain, and ran in a terrible wrath out of the room. Just as he got to the door the Stone fell down on his head, and knocked him down on the spot.
So we conclude that this Herr Korbes must have been a very bad man.
The Godfather
Acertain poor man had so many children, that he had already asked all the world and his wife to stand godfathers and godmothers to them; and when yet another child was born, he knew not where to find any one to ask. In great perplexity he went to sleep, and dreamed that he should go out of his door and ask the first person he met to be godfather. As soon as he awoke the next morning he resolved to follow out his dream; so he went out and asked the first person he met. This was a man who gave him a little glass of water, saying, “This is a miraculous water, with which you can restore the sick to health; only you must observe where the disease lies. If it is near the head, give the patient some of the water and he will become well again; but if it is near the feet, all your labour will be in vain, the sick person must die.”
The man was now able to say at any time whether such an one would recover, and through this ability he became famous and earned much money. Once he was summoned to the child of the King, and as soon as he entered he saw the disease was situated near the head, and so he healed it with the water. This happened a second time also, but at the third time the malady affected the feet, and he knew at once the child would die.
Not long after this event the man determined to visit the Godfather, and
tell him all his adventures with the water. But when he came to the house, behold most wonderful doings were going on within! On the first stair were a dustpan and a broom quarrelling and beating one another, and he asked them where the master lived. The broom replied, “A stair higher.” On the second stair he saw a number of fingers lying, and he asked them where the master lived. One of the fingers replied, “A stair higher.” On the third stair lay a heap of bowls, who showed him up a stair higher yet, and on this fourth stair he found some fish frying themselves in a pan over the fire, who told him to go a stair higher yet. When he had mounted this fifth stair he came to a room and peeped through the keyhole of the door, and saw the Godfather there with a pair of long horns on. As soon as the poor man opened the door and went in, the Godfather got very quickly into a bed and covered himself up. Then the man said, “Ah, Mr. Godfather, what wonderful doings are these I see in your house? When I mounted the first stair there were a broom and a dustpan quarrelling and beating one another.”
“How very simple you are!” replied the Godfather: “they were my boy and maid talking to one another.”
“But on the second stair I saw some fingers lying.”
“Why, how absurd you are!” said the other; “those were roots of plants.”
“But on the third stair I found a heap of bowls,” said the man.
“Why, you silly fellow,” replied the Godfather; “those were cabbages!”
“But on the fourth stair I saw fish frying themselves in a pan;” and as the man spoke the fish came and served up themselves on a dish.
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 19