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

by Brothers Grimm

The youngest brother, however, was not dead. The spring, by great good luck, was dry, and he fell upon soft moss without any injury; but he could not get out again. Even in this necessity the faithful Fox did not leave him, but soon came up, and scolded him for not following his advice. “Still I cannot forsake you,” said he; “I will again help you into daylight. Hold fast upon my tail, and I will draw you up to the top.” When this was done the Fox said, “You are not yet out of danger, for your brothers are not satisfied of your death, and have set watches all round the forest, who are to kill you if they should see you.”

  The youth thereupon changed clothes with a poor old man who was sitting near, and in that guise went to the King’s palace. Nobody knew him; but instantly the bird began to sing, the horse began to eat, and the beautiful maiden ceased weeping. Bewildered at this change, the King asked what it meant. “I know not,” replied the maiden; “but I who was sad am now gay, for I feel as if my true husband were returned.” Then she told him all that had happened; although the other brothers had threatened her with death if she disclosed anything. And the King summoned before him all the people who were in the castle, and among them came the poor youth, dressed as a beggar, in his rags; but the maiden knew him, and fell upon his neck. The wicked brothers were seized and tried; but the youngest married the Princess, and succeeded to the King’s inheritance.

  But what had happened to the poor Fox? Long after, the Prince went once again into the wood; the Fox met him, and said, “You have now everything that you can desire, but to my misfortune there is no end; although it lies in your power to release me.” And, with tears, he begged him to cut off his head and feet. At last he did so; and scarcely was it accomplished when the Fox became a man, who was no other than the brother of the Princess, delivered at length from the charm which bound him. From that day to this nothing was ever wanting to the happiness of the Hero of the Golden Bird.

  The Travels of Thumbling

  Acertain Tailor had a son who was so very diminutive in stature that he went by the nickname of Thumbling; but the little fellow had a great deal of courage in his soul, and one day he said to his father, “I must and will travel a little.” “You are very right, my son,” replied his father; “take a long darning-needle with you and stick a lump of sealing-wax on the end of it, and then you will have a sword to travel with.”

  Now, the tailor would eat once more with his son, and so he skipped into the kitchen to see what his wife had cooked for their last meal. It was just ready, however, and the dish stood upon the hearth, and he asked his wife what it was.

  “You can see for yourself,” replied she.

  Just then Thumbling jumped on the fender and peeped into the pot; but, happening to stretch his neck too far over the edge of it, the smoke of the hot meat carried him up the chimney. For a little distance he rode on the smoke in the air; but at last he sank down on the earth. The little tailor was now embarked in the wide world, and went and engaged with a master in his trade; but with him the eating was not good, so Thumbling said to the mistress, “If you do not give us better food, I shall leave you, and early to-morrow morning write on your door with chalk, ‘Too many potatoes, too little meat; adieu, my lord potato-king. ’ ” “What do you think you will do, grasshopper?” replied the mistress, and in a passion she snatched up a piece of cloth, and would have given him a thrashing; but the little fellow crept nimbly under a thimble, and peeped out beneath at the mistress, and made faces at her. So she took up the thimble and tried to catch him; but Thumbling skipped into the cloth, and as she threw it away to look for him he slipped into the crevice of the table. “He, he, he, old mistress!” laughed he, putting his head up; and when she would have hit him he dropped down into the drawer beneath. At last, however, she did catch him, and hunted him out of the house.

  The little tailor wandered about till he came to a great forest, where he met a band of robbers who were going to steal the King’s treasure. As soon as they saw the tailor, they thought to themselves, “Ah, such a little fellow as that can creep through the keyhole and serve us as pick-lock!” “Hilloa,” cried one, “you Goliath, will you go with us to the treasure-chamber? You can easily slip in, and hand us out the gold and silver.”

  Thumbling considered for a while, and at last consented and went with them to the palace. Then he looked all over the doors to see if there were any chinks, and presently discovered one which was just wide enough for him to get through. Just as he was about to creep in one of the watchmen at the door saw him, and said to the other, “What ugly spider is that crawling there? I will crush it.”

  “Oh, let the poor thing be,” said the other; “he has done nothing to you.” So Thumbling got luckily through the chink into the chamber, and, opening the window beneath which the robbers stood, threw out one by one the silverdollars. Just as the tailor was in the heat of his work, he heard the King coming to visit his treasure-chamber, and in a great hurry he hid himself. The King observed that many dollars were gone; but he could not imagine who could have stolen them, for the locks and bolts were all fast, and everything appeared quite safe. So he went away again, and said to the watchmen, “Have a care; there is some one at my gold.” Presently Thumbling began his work again, and the watchmen heard the gold moving, chinking, and falling down with a ring; so they sprang in and would have seized the thief. But the tailor, when he heard them coming, was still quicker, and ran into a corner and covered himself over with a dollar, so that nothing of him could be seen. Then he called to the watchmen, “Here I am!” and they went up to the place; but before they could search he was in another corner, crying, “Ha, ha! here I am!” The watchmen turned there, but he was off again in a third corner, crying, “He, he, he! here I am!” So it went on, Thumbling making fools of them each time; and they ran here and there so often about the chamber, that at last they were wearied out and went away. Then he threw the dollars out as before, and when he came to the last he gave it a tremendous jerk, and, jumping out after, flew down upon it to the ground. The robbers praised him very highly, saying, “You are a mighty hero; will you be our captain?” Thumbling refused, as he wished first to see the world. So they shared the booty among them; but the little tailor only took a farthing, because he could not carry any more.

  After this deed he buckled his sword again round his body, and, bidding the robbers good day, set out further on his travels. He went to several masters seeking work; but none of them would have him, and at last he engaged himself as waiter at an inn. The maids, however, could not bear him, for he could see them without their seeing him, and he gave information to the master of what they took secretly from the larder, and how they helped themselves out of the cellar. So the servants determined among themselves to serve him out by playing him some trick. Not long afterwards one of them was mowing grass in the garden and saw Thumbling skipping about from daisy to daisy, so she mowed down in a great hurry the grass where he was, and tying it in a bundle together threw it slily into the cows’ stall. A great black cow instantly swallowed it up, and Thumbling too, without injuring him; but he was not at all pleased, for it was a very dark place, and no light to be seen at all! While the cow was being milked, Thumbling called out, “Holloa, when will that pail be full?” but the noise of the running milk prevented his being heard. By-and-by the master came into the stable, and said, “This cow must be killed to-morrow!” This speech made Thumbling tremble, and he shouted out in a shrill tone, “Let me out first, I say; let me out!”

  The master heard him, but could not tell where the voice came from, and he asked, “Where are you?”

  “In the dark,” replied Thumbling; but this the master could not understand, so he went away.

  The next morning the cow was killed. Happily Thumbling escaped without a wound from all the cutting and carving, and was sent away in the sausage-meat. As soon as the butcher began his work, he cried with all his might, “Don’t chop too deep! don’t chop too deep!” But the whirring of the cleaver again prevented his being
heard. Necessity is the mother of invention, and so Thumbling set his wits to work, and jumped so cleverly out between the cuts that he came off with a whole skin. He was not able to get away very far, but fell into the basin where the fragments were, and presently he was rolled up in a skin for a sausage. He found his quarters here very narrow, but afterwards, when he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked, the time appeared dreadfully long to him. At last, one day he was taken down, for a guest was to be entertained with a sausage. When the good wife cut the sausage in half, he took care not to stretch out his neck too far, lest it should be cut through. Then, seizing his opportunity, he made a jump, and sprang quite out.

  In this house, however, where things had gone so badly, the little tailor would not stop any longer; so he set out again on his travels. His liberty did not last very long. In the open fields he met a Fox, who snapped him up in a twinkling. “Ah, Mr. Fox,” called Thumbling, “I don’t want to stick here in your throat; let me out again.”

  “You are right,” replied the Fox, “you are no use there; but if you will promise me all the hens in your father’s farmyard I will let you off scot-free.”

  “With all my heart,” said Thumbling; “you shall have all the fowls, I promise you.”

  Then the Fox let him out, and carried him home; and as soon as the farmer saw his dear son again, he gave all the hens instantly to the Fox as his promised reward. Thereupon Thumbling pulled out the farthing which he had earned upon his wanderings, and said, “See, I have brought home with me a beautiful piece of gold.”

  “But why did they give the Fox the poor little hens to gobble up?”

  “Why, you simpleton, don’t you think your father would rather have his dear child than all the fowls in his farmyard!”

  The Feather Bird6

  Once upon a time there lived a Sorcerer, who used to take the form of a beggar, and go begging before the houses, and stealing little girls, and nobody knew where he took them. One day he appeared before the house of a man, who had three pretty daughters, as a poor, weak, old cripple, carrying a sack on his back to put all his alms in. He begged for something to eat, and when the eldest girl came out and offered him a piece of bread, he only touched her and she was compelled to jump into his sack. Then he hurried away with great strides, and carried her through a dark forest to his house, in which everything was very splendid. There he gave her what she wished, and told her, “All will be well with you, for you will have all your heart can desire.” This lasted two days, and he then said, “I must be off and leave you for a short time alone: these are the house-keeping keys, you can look over everything; but into one room which this little key unlocks, I forbid you to enter, on pain of death.” He gave her also an egg, saying, “Preserve this carefully for me, and always carry it about with you, for if it be lost a great misfortune will happen.”

  She took the key and the egg, and promised all he required; but as soon as he was gone her curiosity overmastered her, and after she had looked over the whole house, from attic to cellar, she unlocked the forbidden door and went in. She was terribly frightened when she entered the room, for in the middle there stood a large basin full of blood, and in it there were dead bodies chopped in pieces. Beside the basin was a block of wood, and on it a gleaming ax. In her terror the egg fell from her hand, and rolled into the basin; and although she fished it out again directly and wiped it, it was of no use, for, scrub and wash all she might, the blood appeared as fresh as ever. The next day the man came home, and demanded the key and the egg. She handed them to him with trembling; and he instantly perceived that she had been into the forbidden chamber. “Have you then dared to enter that room against my will?” said he; “then now you enter it again against yours. Your life is forfeited.” So saying, he drew her in by the hair and cut off her head on the block. Her blood ran down on the floor. Then he chopped her up and threw her into the basin with the others.

  “Now I will fetch the second one,” said the Sorcerer to himself; and, assuming the disguise of a beggar, he went and begged before the house. Then the second girl brought him a piece of bread, and he seized her, as the first, and bore her away. It happened to her as it had to her elder sister, curiosity led her astray: she opened the forbidden door and on the Sorcerer’s return paid with her life.

  He went now and fetched the third sister; but she was prudent and cunning. As soon as he had given her his directions and had ridden away, she first carefully laid by the egg, and then went and opened the forbidden chamber. Ah, what a scene. She saw her two dear sisters lying there chopped in pieces. But she got to work and gathered the pieces and put them in their right place, head and body, arms and legs. When nothing was missing, the pieces began to move and knit together, and the two girls came alive again. They were very happy, and kissed and embraced one another.

  On his return the Sorcerer demanded the key and the egg; and when he could find no spot of blood on them, he said to the maiden, “You have withstood temptation; you shall be my bride, and whatever you desire that will I do.”

  “Very well,” she replied; “then first you must take my father and mother a sackful of gold, and you must carry it yourself on your back; in the mean time I will arrange the wedding.” Then she ran to her sisters, whom she had concealed in a chamber, and said, “The moment has arrived when I can save you; the Sorcerer himself shall carry you away; and as soon as you arrive at our home send me help.” Then she placed them both in a sack, and covered them over with gold, so that nothing of them could be seen; and then, calling the Sorcerer in, she said, “Now carry away the sack; but I shall peep through my window, and keep a sharp look-out that you do not rest at all on your journey.”

  The Sorcerer raised the sack on his shoulder, and went away with it; but it weighed so heavily that the perspiration ran down his face. Presently he wished to rest a minute, but a voice called to him out of the sack, “I am looking through my window, and see that you are stopping; will you go on!” He thought it was his Bride calling to him, so he instantly got up again. A little further he would have rested again; but the same voice called, “I am looking through my window, and see that you are stopping; will you go on again!” And as often as he stopped he heard the same words; and so he was obliged to keep on, until he at last arrived, exhausted and out of breath, with the sack of gold at the house of the father and mother.

  Meanwhile, at home the Bride prepared the weddingfeast, and invited the friends of the Sorcerer to come. Then she took a skull, put a head-dress on it and a crown of flowers, and set it at the topmost window, and left it there peeping down. As soon as all was ready she dipped herself in a cask full of honey, and then, ripping up the bed, she rolled herself among the feathers until she looked like a marvellous bird, whom no one could possibly recognise. After this she went out of the house; and on the way some of the wedding-guests met her, and asked her whence she came; and she replied, “I come from the house of the Feather King.”

  “How does the young Bride?” asked they.

  “She has taken herself to the top of the house, and is peeping out of the window.”

  Soon after the bridegroom met her, as he was slowly travelling back, and asked exactly the same questions as the others, and received the same answers. Then the bridegroom looked up and saw the decorated skull, and he thought it was his Bride, and nodded to it and kissed his hand lovingly. But just as he was gone into the house with his guests, the brothers and relations of the Bride, who had been sent to her rescue, arrived. They immediately closed up all the doors of the house, so that no one could escape, and then set fire to it; and the Sorcerer and all his accomplices were burnt to ashes.

  The Six Swans

  Aking was once hunting in a large wood, and pursued his game so hotly, that none of his courtiers could follow him. But when evening approached he stopped, and looking around him perceived that he had lost himself. He sought a path out of the forest, but could not find one, and presently he saw an old woman with a nodding head, who came up to him.
“My good woman,” said he to her, “can you not show me the way out of the forest?” “Oh yes, my lord King,” she replied, “I can do that very well, but upon one condition, which if you do not fulfil you will never again get out of the wood, but will die of hunger.”

  “What, then, is this condition?” asked the King.

  “I have a daughter,” said the old Woman, “who is as beautiful as any one you can find in the whole world, and well deserves to be your bride. Now, if you will make her your Queen, I will show you your way out of the wood.” In the anxiety of his heart the King consented, and the old Woman led him to her cottage, where the daughter was sitting by a fire. She received the King as if she had expected him, and he saw at once that she was very beautiful, but yet she did not quite please him, for he could not look at her without a secret shuddering. However, after all, he took the maiden up on his horse, and the old woman showed him the way, and the King arrived safely at his palace, where the wedding was to be celebrated.

  The King had been married once before, and had seven children by his first wife, six boys and a girl, whom he loved above everything else in the world. He became afraid, soon, that the stepmother might not treat them very well, and might even do them some great injury, so he took them away to a lonely castle which stood in the midst of a forest. This castle was so hidden, and the way to it so difficult to discover, that he himself could not have found it if a wise woman had not given him a ball of cotton which had the wonderful property, when he threw it before him, of unrolling itself and showing him the right path. The King went, however, so often to see his dear children, that the Queen noticed his absence, became inquisitive, and wished to know what he went to fetch out of the forest. So she gave his servants a great quantity of money, and they disclosed to her the secret, and also told her of the ball of cotton which alone could show the way. She had now no peace until she discovered where this ball was concealed, and then she made some fine silken shirts, and, as she had learned of her mother, she sewed within each one a charm. One day soon after, when the King was gone out hunting, she took the little shirts and went into the forest, and the cotton showed her the path. The children, seeing some one coming in the distance, thought it was their dear father, and ran out towards her full of joy. Then she threw over each of them a shirt, which as it touched their bodies changed them into Swans, which flew away over the forest. The Queen then went home quite contented, and thought she was free of her step-children; but the little girl had not met her with the brothers, and the Queen did not know of her.