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

by Brothers Grimm

  “Ah, very well, I can use you too,” thought Hans; and said to the giant, “Come with me, leave your house-building, and you shall be called ‘Rock-Splitter.’ ”

  The man consented, and the three strode along through the forest, and wherever they came the wild beasts fled away from them, terrified. At evening time they came to an old deserted castle, into which they stept, and lay down to sleep in the hall. The following morning Hans went into the garden, and found it quite a wilderness and full of thorns and weeds. As he walked about, a wild boar suddenly sprung out at him, but he gave it such a blow with his staff, that it fell down at his feet dead. So he threw it over his shoulder, and, taking it home, put it on a spit to roast, and chuckled over the treat it would be. Afterwards, the three agreed that every day they should take it by turns—two to go out and hunt, and the third to remain at home and cook for each nine pounds of meat. The first day the Fir-Twister remained at home; and Hans and the Rock-Splitter went out hunting. While the former was busy at home with his cooking, there came to the castle gate a shrivelled-up little old man, who asked for meat.

  “Take yourself off, you sneak!” replied the cook; “you want no meat!” But scarcely had he said these words than, to his great surprise, the little insignificant old man sprang upon him and thrashed him so with his fists, that he could not protect himself from the blows, but was at last forced to drop down, gasping for breath. The little man did not leave till he had fully wreaked his vengeance; but when the other two returned from hunting, the Fir-Twister said nothing to them of the old man or his blows, for he thought, when they remained at home, they might as well have a trial with the fellow; and the bare thought of it pleased him very much.

  The following day, accordingly, the Rock-Splitter stopped at home, and it happened to him just as it had done to the Fir-Twister; the old man beat him unmercifully because he would give him no meat. When the others came home at evening, the Fir-Twister perceived at once what had happened; but both held their tongues, thinking that Hans should also taste of the supper.

  Hans, whose turn it now was to stay at home, did his work in the kitchen as he thought fit, and just as he was about to polish the kettle, the little man came and demanded without ceremony a piece of meat. “This is a poor fellow,” thought Hans; “I will give him some of my share, that the others may not come short;” and he handed him a piece of meat. The Dwarf soon devoured it, and demanded another piece, which the good-natured Hans gave him, and said it was such a fine piece he ought to be contented with it. But the Dwarf asked a third time for more meat. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Hans, and gave him nothing. Thereupon the ill-tempered Dwarf tried to spring on him, and serve him as he had done the Fir-Twister and the Rock-Splitter; but he had come at an unlucky moment, and Hans gave him a couple of blows which made the Dwarf jump down the castle steps. Hans would then have pursued him, but he was so tall that he actually fell over him, and when he got up again the Dwarf was off. Hans hurried after him into the forest, and saw him slip into a rocky hole; after which he returned home, first marking the place. But the two others, when they came back, wondered to see Hans so merry, and when he told them all that had passed in their absence, they also concealed no longer the tale of their adventures. Hans laughed at them, and said, “You were served quite right, you should not have been so grudging with your meat; but it is a shame that two such big fellows as you should have allowed yourselves to be beaten by a Dwarf.”

  After their dinner they took a basket and some cord, and all three went to the rocky hole, into which the Dwarf had crept, and let Hans down in the basket, staff in hand. As soon as he came to the bottom he found a door, on opening which he saw a Maiden more beautiful than I can describe, and near her sat the Dwarf, who grinned at Hans like a sea-cat. But the Maiden was bound by chains, and looked so sadly at Hans that he felt a great compassion for her, and thought to himself, “You must be delivered from the power of this wicked Dwarf;” and he gave the fellow a blow with his staff, which killed him outright. Immediately the chains fell off the Maiden, and Hans was enchanted with her beauty. She told him she was a Princess, whom a rebellious Count had stolen away from her home, and concealed in a cave, because she would not listen to his offers of marriage. The Dwarf had been placed there by the Count as watchman, and he had caused her daily vexation and trouble. Thereupon Hans placed the Maiden in the basket, and caused her to be drawn up; but when the basket came down again Hans would not trust his two companions, for he thought they had already shown themselves false in not telling about the Dwarf before, and nobody could tell what design they might have now. So he laid his staff in the basket, and it was very lucky he did so, for as soon as the basket was half way up, the two men let it fall again, and Hans, had he been really in it, would have met with his death. But Hans now did not know how he should make his way out of the cave, and although he considered for a long while he could come to no decision. While he walked up and down he came again to the chamber where the Maiden had been sitting, and saw that the Dwarf had a ring on his finger which shone and glittered. This he pulled off and put on, and as soon as it pressed his finger, he heard suddenly some rustling over his head. He looked up, and saw two Spirits fluttering about in the air, who said he was their master, and they asked his wishes. Hans at first was quite astonished, but at last he said he wished to be borne up on the earth. In a moment they obeyed, and he seemed as if he was flying up; but when they set him down on the ground, he saw nobody standing about, and when he went into the castle he could find nobody there either. The Fir-Twister and the Rock-Splitter had made their escape, and carried away with them the beautiful Maiden. Hans, however, pressed the ring and the Spirits came at once, and said the two false comrades were gone off to sea. Hans thereupon hastened as fast as he could to the sea-shore, and there he perceived far out at sea the ship in which his perfidious friends had embarked. In his passionate haste he actually jumped into the sea, staff in hand, and began to swim; but the tremendous weight of his staff prevented him from keeping his head up. He was just beginning to sink when he bethought himself of his ring, and immediately the Spirits appeared, and carried him on board the ship with the speed of lightning. As soon as he was safely set down, Hans swung his staff round, and gave the wicked traitors their well-merited reward; after which he threw them into the sea! Then he steered the vessel home to the father and mother of the Princess, who had been in the greatest terror while in the hands of the two giants, and from whom he had happily saved her for the second time.

  Soon afterwards Hans married the Princess, and their wedding was the occasion of the most splendid rejoicings.

  Master Cobblersawl

  Master Cobblersawly was a small, meagre, but very active man, who had no rest in him. His face, whose only prominent feature was a turned-up nose, was seamed and deadly pale; his hair was grey and rough; his eyes small, but they peered right and left in a piercing way. He observed everything, found fault with everything, knew everything better and did it better than any one else in his own estimation. When he walked in the streets he swung his two arms about in such a hasty fashion, that once he knocked the pail, which a girl was carrying, so high into the air that the water fell all over him. “Sheep’s head!” he exclaimed, shaking himself, “could you not see that I was following you?” By trade he was a shoemaker; and when he was at work, he pulled his thread out so hastily, that nobody went near him for fear of his elbows poking into their sides. No comrade remained with him longer than a month, for he had always something to remark upon in the best work. Either the stitches were not even, or one shoe was longer than the other, or one heel higher than the other, or the leather was not drawn sufficiently tight. “Wait,” he would say to a young hand, “wait, and I will show you how one can whiten the skin!” and so saying, he would fetch a strap and lay it across the shoulders of his victim. He called everybody idle and lazy; but still he did not do much for himself, because he could not sit quiet two quarters of an hour together. If
his wife got up early in the morning and lighted a fire, he would jump out of bed and run barefeet into the kitchen, crying out, “Do you want to burn the house down? there is a fire fit for any one to roast an ox at! Wood costs money.”

  If the maid, while standing at the washtub, laughed and repeated to herself what she had heard, he would scold her, and say, “There stands a goose, chattering and forgetting her work with her gossip.” “Of what use is that fresh soap? shameful waste and a disgraceful dirtiness, for she wants to spare her hands by not properly rubbing out the stains!” So saying, he would jump up and throw down a whole pailful of water, so as to set the kitchen a swimming!

  Once they were building a new house near him, and he ran to his window to look on. “There! they are using that red sandstone again which never dries,” he said; “nobody in that house will be healthy. And see how quickly the fellows are laying on the stones! The mortar too is not properly mixed; gravel should be put in, not sand. I expect the house will fall some day on the heads of its owners.” So saying, he sat down again, and did another stitch or so; but soon he sprang up, and throwing away his apron exclaimed, “I will go and speak to those men myself.” The carpenters were at work just then. “How is this?” he asked; “you are not cutting by line. Do you think the beams will lay straight? no, they will come all away from the joists.” Then he snatched an axe out of the hand of one of the carpenters to show him how he should cut; but just then a waggon laden with clay chanced to be going past, so Master Cobblersawl threw away the axe, and cried to the peasant who was with it, “You are not rightly humane! who would harness young horses to a heavily laden waggon? the poor beasts will fall down presently.”

  The peasant, however, gave him no answer, and so he went back to his workshop in a passion. Just as he was about to commence again the job which he had left, his apprentice handed him a shoe. “What is this, again?” exclaimed Master Cobblersawl; “have I not told you often and often not to stitch your shoes so wide. Who will buy a shoe like this with scarce any sole at all to it? I desire that you will follow my commands to the letter.”

  “Yes, master,” replied the apprentice, “you may be in the right to say that the shoe is worth nothing, but it is the very same that you sewed, and were just now at work upon; for when you ran out you threw it under the table, and I picked it up. But an angel from heaven would not convince you that you were wrong.”

  A night or two afterwards Master Cobblersawl dreamed that he was dead and on the way to heaven. When he arrived there and knocked at the door, the Apostle Peter opened it to see who desired to enter. “Ah, is it you, Master Cobblersawl?” said the Saint, “I will let you in certainly; but I warn you not to interfere with what you may observe in heaven, or it will be the worse for you.”

  “You might have spared yourself the trouble of saying that,” replied Cobblersawl; “I know very well, how to behave myself; and here, thank God, there is nothing to blame, as there is on earth.” So saying, he stepped in and walked up and down over the wide expanse of heaven, looking about him right and left, and now and then shaking his head or muttering to himself. Presently he perceived two angels carrying a beam, the same which a certain one once had in his own eye when he perceived the mote in his brother’s eye.z But they were carrying the beam not longways but crossways, and this caused Master Cobblersawl to say to himself, “Did ever anybody see such stupidity?” Still he held his tongue, thinking that after all it was no matter whether the beam were carried straight or not, provided it did not interfere with anybody. Soon afterwards he saw two angels pouring water out of a spring into a tub which was full of holes, so that the water escaped on all sides. They were watering the earth with rain. “Blast you!” exclaimed he suddenly; but recollecting himself, he kept his opinions to himself, and thought, “Perhaps it is mere pastime, and intended for a joke, so that one may do idle things here in heaven as well as upon earth.” So he went onwards and saw a waggon stuck fast in a deep rut. “No wonder,” said he to the person in charge; “who would have filled it so extravagantly? what have you there?”

  “Pious wishes,” replied the man; “I could not with them get along the right road; but fortunately I was able to get my waggon on it, and they will not let me stick fast.”

  Just then an angel did really come and harnessed horses to the waggon. “Quite right,” thought Cobblersawl; “but two horses are not enough to pull the waggon out: there must be four horses at the least.” Presently came a second angel, leading two more horses, but he did not harness them before, but behind. Now this was too much for Master Cobblersawl. “Tallpatsch!” he exclaimed aloud, “what are you about? Did anybody ever as long as the world has stood pull a waggon in that way up this road? You think you know better than I in your conceited pride!” and he would have said more, but one of the inhabitants of heaven caught him by the neck and shoved him out of the place with a stern push. Just outside the gate Master Cobblersawl turned his head round, and saw the waggon raised up by four winged horses.

  At the same moment he awoke. “Things are certainly somewhat different in heaven to what they are on earth,” he said to himself, “and much may therefore be excused; but who could patiently see two horses harnessed behind a waggon and two before? Certainly they had wings, but I did not observe that at first. However, it is a great absurdity that a horse with four good legs must have wings too! But I must get up, or else they will make further mistakes about that house. Still, after all, it is a very lucky thing that I am not dead.”

  The Nix in the Pond 14

  There was once upon a time a Miller who lived very happily with his Wife, for they were very well off, and their prosperity increased year by year. But misfortune comes by night. As their riches had grown, so they disappeared; and thus they melted away yearly till at last the Miller had only his mill, and that he could scarcely call his own property. He became very full of trouble over his losses; and when he lay down after his day’s work he could get no rest, but tossed about in his bed, thinking and thinking. One morning he arose before daybreak, and went out into the open air, to consider some way of lightening his heart; and as he passed by the mill-dam the first ray of the sun shone forth, and he heard a rippling in the pond. He turned round and perceived a beautiful Maiden, raising herself slowly out of the water. Her long hair, which she had gathered behind her shoulders with her long fingers, fell down on both sides of her face, and covered her white bosom. The Miller saw at once that it was the Nixaa of the mill-pond, and he knew not from fear whether to stop or go away. The Nix solved his doubts by calling him by name in a gentle voice, and asking him why he was so sad. At first the Miller was dumb; but as she spoke so kindly to him, he took courage, and told her that he had once lived in riches and prosperity, but he was now so poor he knew not what to do.

  “Rest quietly,” said the Nix; “I will make you richer and hap pier than you were before; only you must promise me that you will give me what has just now been born in your house.” “That can be nothing else than a puppy or a kitten,” thought the Miller, and so promised the Nix what she desired. Thereupon she dived again under water, and the Miller hastened home to his mill in good spirits. He had almost reached it, when the Maid coming from it met him and told him to rejoice, for his Wife had just borne him a little boy. The Miller started back, as if struck by lightning, for he at once perceived that the crafty Nix was aware of the fact, and had deceived him. He went into his Wife’s room drooping his head; and when she inquired why he did not congratulate her on her happiness, he told her what had happened, and the promise which he had given to the Nix. “Of what use are wealth and good luck to me,” he continued, “if I lose my child? but what can I do?” And none of the friends who came to congratulate him on the birth of a son and heir could give any advice.

  Meanwhile the luck of the mill returned. What its Master undertook prospered; and it seemed as if chests and coffers filled themselves, for the money in the cupboard increased every night, till before many months had passed away,
the Miller was much richer than before. He could not, however, feel any pleasure in the prospect, for his promise to the Nix weighed on his mind; and as often as he passed the pond, he feared lest she should rise and claim her debt. The Boy himself he would never allow to go near the water; but told him continually to beware of doing so, for if he should fall in, a hand would rise and draw him under. Still, as year after year passed away, and the Nix made no second appearance, the Miller began to lose his suspicions.

  The Boy grew up a fine youth and was bound to a Huntsman to learn his art, which when he had thoroughly studied, the Lord of the village took him into his service. Now in this village there dwelt a beautiful and good Maiden, who took the fancy of the young Hunter, and when his Master perceived it, he presented him with a small cottage; and thereupon the two married, and lived happily and lovingly together.

  One day the Hunter pursued a stag, and when the animal escaped from the forest into the open fields, he followed it, and at last struck it down with a shot from his gun. But he did not observe that he had come to the brink of the dangerous pond, and so when he had flayed his booty, he went to it to wash his hands free from the blood stains. Scarcely had he touched it when the Nix arose, and smilingly embracing him with her naked arms, drew him so quickly below the surface that the water rippled on without a bubble.