“I did not buy it at all,” said Hans, “but took it in exchange for my pig.” “And the pig?” “I exchanged for my cow.” “And the cow?” “I exchanged a horse for her.” “And the horse?” “For him I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.” “And the gold?” “That was my wages for a seven years’ servitude.” “And I see you have known how to benefit yourself each time,” said the Grinder; “but, could you now manage that you heard the money rattling in your pocket as you walked, your fortune would be made.” “Well! how shall I manage that?” asked Hans.
“You must become a grinder like me; to this trade nothing peculiar belongs but a grindstone, the other necessaries find themselves. Here is one which is a little worn, certainly, and so I will not ask anything more for it than your goose; are you agreeable?”
“How can you ask me?” said Hans, “why, I shall be the luckiest man in the world; having money as often as I dip my hand into my pocket, what have I to care about any longer?”
So saying, he handed over the goose, and received the grindstone in exchange.
“Now,” said the Grinder, picking up an ordinary big flint stone which lay near, “now, there you have a capital stone, upon which only beat them long enough and you may straighten all your old nails! Take it, and use it carefully!”
Hans took the stone and walked on with a satisfied heart, his eyes glistening with joy. “I must have been born,” said he, “to a heap of luck; everything happens just as I wish, as if I were a Sunday-child.”
Soon, however, having been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel very tired, and was plagued too with hunger, since he had eaten all his provision at once in his joy about the cow bargain. At last he felt quite unable to go farther, and was forced, too, to halt every minute for the stones encumbered him very much. Just then the thought overcame him, what a good thing it were if he had no need to carry them any longer, and at the same moment he came up to a stream. Here he resolved to rest and refresh himself with a drink, and so that the stones might not hurt him in kneeling he laid them carefully down by his side on the bank. This done, he stooped down to scoop up some water in his hand, and then it happened that he pushed one stone a little too far, so that both presently went plump into the water. Hans, as soon as he saw them sinking to the bottom, jumped up for joy, and then kneeled down and returned thanks, with tears in his eyes, that so mercifully, and without any act on his part, and in so nice a way, he had been delivered from the heavy stones, which alone hindered him from getting on.
“So lucky as I am,” exclaimed Hans, “is no other man under the sun!”
Then with a light heart, and free from every burden, he leaped gaily along till he reached his mother’s house.
The Fox and the Geese
The Fox one day came to a meadow where a flock of fine fat Geese were feeding; and he said, with a grin, “I am come just as if I had been invited; you sit together so charmingly, I can eat you one after the other!” The Geese cackled for terror, and sprang on their feet, and began to groan and beg pitifully for their lives, but the Fox would hear nothing; and said, “There is no mercy—you must die!” At length one of them took heart and said, “If we poor Geese must at once give our young lives, show us yet one single grace, and permit us to say our prayers, that we may not die in our sins. Afterwards we will all stand in a row, and you can then pick out the fattest as you want us.”
“Well,” said the Fox, “that is a just and pious request. Pray away! I will wait for you!”
So the first one began a long prayer, and, because it would not cease, the second also commenced before his time and cried, “Ga! ga! ga!” The third and fourth soon followed, and in a few minutes they were all cackling together their prayers.
When they have done praying, this tale shall be continued; but meanwhile, as I suppose, they are praying still.
The Young Giant
Acertain countryman had a son no bigger than a thumb when he was born, and even in after years he grew not a bit. One morning when the man was going forth to plough, the little fellow said, “Father, I will go with you.” “Will you though?” replied he. “You had better stop where you are of use: you would only get lost along with me.”
Then Thumbling began to cry, and would not stop till his Father at last put him in his pocket and took him with him. When they got into the fields the Father took his son out and set him in a fresh furrow. Presently, over the mountains, came a great Giant towards them. “Do you see that great monster coming to fetch you?” asked the man of his son, thinking so to frighten him; but scarcely had he spoken when the Giant, making a couple of strides with his long legs, reached the furrow, and took little Thumbling out without speaking a word, and carried him away with him. The Father stood by, and from terror could not utter a sound, and he thought he had lost his son for ever.
The Giant, however, carried Thumbling home, and fed him so heartily that he grew big and strong like a young giant. After the lapse of two years the Giant took the youth into the forest to try his strength, and said to him, “Now cut down a switch for yourself.” The young one was now so strong that he pulled a little tree by the roots out of the ground; but this was not enough for the Giant, who took him back and fed him two years longer. When they tried again the youth was so strong that he could break down an old tree; but still this was not enough for the old Giant, who took him home again and fed him for another two years. At the end of that time they again visited the forest, and when the old Giant said, “Now pluck up a good stick for me,” the youth tore out of the ground the thickest oak-tree there was as if it were merely a joke. “Now you have done enough,” cried the Giant; “you have learnt everything.” And with these words he conducted him back to the same field from whence he had fetched him. His Father was there walking behind his plough, and the young Giant went up to him and said, “Do you see, Father, what a man your son has grown?” But the Father was frightened, and said, “No, you are not my son; I know nothing about you.”
“Really and truly I am your son, though,” said the young Giant. “Let me work here; I can plough as well and even better than you.” But the Peasant persisted, “No, no, you are not my son; you cannot plough; come, be off with you!”
But at length, being afraid of the great fellow, he let go the plough, and, stepping back, stationed himself on one side near the hedge. Then the youth took the plough and pressed with one hand against it, but so powerfully that it cut deeply into the ground, and the Peasant called out, “If you must plough, do not press so heavily or your work will be badly done.” At this the young Giant unharnessed the horse and drew the plough himself, first saying to the Peasant, “Go you home, Father, and let Mother cook a large dish of victuals; meanwhile I will just plough over this field.”
The Father, accordingly, went home, and ordered his wife to get dinner ready; but the son not only ploughed over the whole field, which was a usual two days’ job, but also harrowed it perfectly, making use of two harrows. As soon as that was done, he went into the forest and tore up two oak-trees, which he laid across his shoulders, and then, fixing them before and behind the two harrows, he carried them all home like a bundle of straw, driving the horse also before him. When he went into the courtyard his Mother did not recognise him, and asked, “Who is that frightful big man?”
“That is our son,” replied the husband. “No, no!” said she, “our son was never like him; we never had such a great child; ours was a very little thing.” And, so saying, she ordered him to go away. The young Giant, however, was silent; and, driving the horse into the stable, he gave it beans and hay, and all that it needed. This done, he went into the kitchen, sat himself down upon the dresser, and said, “Mother, I want my dinner very much; is it not nearly ready?”
“Yes,” said she, and brought two great dishes full of victuals which would have satisfied herself and her husband for eight days at the least; but the young Giant quickly devoured all, and then inquired if they could not give him more. His mother told him
no, that was all they had. “That was only a taste then,” said he; “I must have more;” and this speech so frightened the woman that, not daring to oppose him, she went and fetched a large fish-kettle, which she filled and put on the fire, and, as soon as it was ready, bore its contents to the young Giant. “At length,” said he, “at length, comes a good bit;” but when he had eaten it all, his hunger was even then not satisfied. “Ah, Father,” said he, “I perceive quite well that I shall never get enough here; but if you will procure me a bar of iron so strong that I cannot break it across my knee I will go away into the world.”
The Peasant was glad to hear this, and, harnessing his two horses to the waggon, he fetched from the smith’s a bar of iron as thick as his horses could drag. This the young Giant tried across his knee, and snap! he broke it like a twig, and threw it away. Then the Father harnessed four horses to the waggon, and brought back a bar as heavy as the four beasts could draw. This the son also broke in halves as soon as he tried it with his knee, and threw it away, saying, “Father, that is of no use; you must harness more, and fetch me a still stronger bar yet.” So he harnessed now eight horses to the waggon and fetched a bar as thick and heavy as they could carry; but when the young man took it he broke it just as easily as the two former ones, saying, “Ah, my Father, I see you cannot procure me such a bar as I need, and therefore I will not stop with you any longer.”
So he went away, and announced himself as a smith wanting work, and soon he arrived at a village wherein dwelt a Smith, who was a very avaricious man, coveting the goods of everybody, and wishing to keep all for himself, and the young Giant asked him if he needed an assistant. The Smith looked at him and thought, “Ah! here is a brave fellow who will beat a good stroke and deserve his bread;” and so he nodded assent to the question, and inquired how much wages he would require. “Oh, very little will do for me,” was the reply; “only every fourteen days, when you pay the other workmen their wages, I will give you two strokes over the shoulders which you must endure.” To this the Smith readily consented, for he imagined he should thereby save money. The next morning the new workman had to be tried, and, as soon as he gave the first blow to the red-hot bar which the master brought, it split quite in halves and flew a long way off, while the anvil was driven so far into the ground that neither of them could pull it up again. The Smith flew into a tremendous passion, and cried out, “Ah! you are of no use to me; you strike much too hard! but what will you have for this one stroke?” The youth said, “I will only give you a slight blow, nothing further;” and so saying, he raised his foot and gave the Smith a kick which sent him flying over four stacks of hay. Then he looked out the thickest iron bar he could find in the smithy, and, using it for a walking-stick, trudged off.
After travelling a short distance he came to a large farm, and there asked the Bailiff whether he needed a head servant. “Yes,” he replied, “I want one, and you seem a likely fellow to do what you profess; pray what amount of wages do you ask for a year?” The young Giant made the same answer as before, that he wanted no other privilege than to be allowed to give him three strokes which he must endure. To this the Bailiff consented, and thought he had made a capital bargain.
The next morning men had to go and fetch wood, and when they were all ready they found the head servant still lying in bed. They called to him, “Get up! it is time; we have to fetch wood, and you must go with us.” “Oh, go away,” he replied, quite sleepy, “go away! I will yet get there before any of you.”
So they went then to the Bailiff, and told him the head servant was still lying in bed and would not get up after the wood. The Bailiff bade them wake him once more and tell him to harness the horses; but when they did so the head servant only cried out as before, “Go away; I will come presently and be there before you.” With these words he turned over again and slept two hours longer, and then, raising himself up from the feathers, he first fetched two measures full of herbs and cooked a broth with them, which he ate very leisurely, and when he had finished he yoked the horses to and went after the wood. Now not far from the forest was a narrow valley through which he must pass, and so, first leading his waggon on, he made the horses stand still on the other side, and then, going back, he made with trees and shrubs such a huge barrier across the way that no horse could pass through. When he came out of the valley again, the other servants were just passing by on their way home with loaded waggons, and he told them to drive forward, for he would yet overtake them and reach home first. So saying, he walked a little way, and, presently tearing up two of the largest trees on the spot, he threw them on his waggon and turned it round. When he came to the barrier he found the others standing before it, unable to get through. “There,” said he, “do you not see you might have waited for me at first? you would have got home just as quickly, and had an hour’s more sleep into the bargain.” So saying, he tried to drive on himself, but his horses could not force the barrier down, and he at length unharnessed and laid them a-top of the trees, and then, taking the pole of the waggon under his own arm, he pressed on through everything, making the trees bend down like feathers. As soon as he reached the other side he called to the others, “There, you see after all I am through sooner than you!” and then, driving on, he left them standing there, lost in wonder. But no sooner had he reached the courtyard than, taking one tree in his hand, he showed it to the Bailiff, and asked him whether it was not a good stock of wood; and the Bailiff, turning to his wife, said, “This slave is a good fellow; for, if he does sleep a long time, he yet reaches home sooner than the others.”
The young Giant after this served the Bailiff a year, and when that was past, and the other slaves received their wages, he thought it were time he took his own. But the Bailiff was much distressed about the strokes he had to receive, and he begged the head servant to forego them, for he would rather himself change places with him, and let him be bailiff, than take them. “No, no!” said the servant, “I will not be bailiff. I am head servant, and shall remain so; but still I will divide the conditions.”
The poor Bailiff offered him what he desired; but nothing helped; the servant answered “No” to all offers; and at length, not knowing how to manage, he requested fourteen days’ respite to consider the matter.
To this the servant consented, and the Bailiff summoned all his secretaries to advise him what to do. For a length of time they consulted, and agreed together that nobody’s life was safe from the young Giant, who knocked men down as if they were gnats. At length they made a decision, which was, that the man should be asked to step into a pond and wash himself, and it was their intention that when he was there they should roll upon his head one of the millstones, so as to bury him for ever from the light of day. This advice pleased the Bailiff, and the servant stepped into the pond, and as soon as he was below water they threw down the largest millstone, and thought they had cracked his head in two; but instead, he called out, “Hunt those hens away from the pond-side; they keep throwing the corn into my eyes, so that I cannot see!” So the Bailiff made noises as if he were chasing the fowls away, and soon the servant reappeared, and as soon as he was out of the water he said, “See what a fine necklace I found at the bottom!” and when they looked they found he had put the millstone round his neck! The young Giant now demanded his reward, but the Bailiff asked for another fourteen days’ consideration, and when the secretaries were summoned they advised him to send the servant into the enchanted mill to grind corn there for a night, as no one had ever yet come out alive from the place. The proposal pleased the Bailiff, and, calling the servant to him the same evening, he bade him fetch eight measures of corn which he was to grind during the night, for they were in want of it. The servant went at once, and put two measures in his right pocket, two in his left, and four in a sack which he slung over his shoulders, so that half of its contents rested on his back and half on his breast. Thus laden, he went to the enchanted mill, where the Miller told him he might grind very well indeed by day, but at night the m
ill was enchanted, and whoever went into it at that time was always found dead in the morning. The young Giant told him, however, he should get safely through, and bade him hasten away and remark what passed. Thereupon he went into the mill and shot out the corn, and about eleven o’clock he sat himself down on a bench in the kitchen. He had not been there very long before all at once the door opened, and an immense table entered, upon which wine and meat, and every delicacy, were placed, and seemingly there was no one who brought it in. Next all the chairs ranged themselves round the table, but no guests appeared; till presently he saw fingers which carved with the knives and forks, and laid pieces upon the plates; and at length, being hungry himself at the sight of food, he sat down to table and took his share of the good things. As soon as he had satisfied himself, and the others had emptied their plates, all the lights were put out at once, and this he heard done clearly, and when it was quite dark he felt something like a box on the ears. He called out, “If that is done again, I shall give it back!” and when he felt a second box on the ears he struck out himself. And so it went on all night through: he took nothing without a return, and gave blows right and left until daybreak, when all ceased.
In the morning the Miller came and was surprised to find him still living; but the young giant told him, “I have eaten and satisfied myself, and received boxes on the ears, and I have also given them.” The Miller was much pleased, and declared he had rescued his mill, and would willingly have given him any money as a reward. But the young Giant would not have any money, and taking his meal-sack upon his shoulders he returned home, and told the Bailiff he wished now to have his promised reward. The Bailiff was terribly frightened when he heard this, and knew not what to do with himself, walking up and down the room till the sweat ran off his brow in great drops. At last he opened his window for some fresh air, and while he stood there the young Giant gave him such a kick that he flew through the window away so high in the air that nobody could see him. When he was out of sight the young Giant said to the Bailiff’s wife, “If your husband does not return, you must take the other stroke!” She cried out, “No, no! I cannot endure it!” and opened the other window to make her escape, while the sweat stood upon her brow in great drops. The young Giant as soon as he saw her at the window, gave her a kick which sent her much higher up than her husband, for she was lighter in weight.
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 36