by Jacob Grimm
As soon as he was safely up, he threw one stone after another at the nearest giant, till at last he woke up in a rage, and shook his companion, crying out, ‘What did you strike me for?’ ‘Nonsense! you are dreaming,’ said the other, ‘I did not strike you.’ Then both lay down to sleep again, and the tailor threw stones at the second giant, till he sprang up and cried, ‘What are you about? you struck me.’ ‘I did not,’ said the other; and on they wrangled for a while, till as both were tired they made up the matter, and fell asleep again. But then the tailor began his game once more, and flung the largest stone he had in his wallet with all his force and hit the first giant on the nose. ‘That is too bad,’ cried he, as if he was mad, ‘I will not bear it.’ So he struck the other a mighty blow; he of course was not pleased at this, and gave him just such another box on the ear; and at last a bloody battle began; up flew the trees by the roots, the rocks and stones went bang at one another’s heads, and in the end both lay dead upon the spot. ‘It is a good thing,’ said the tailor, ‘that they let my tree stand, or I must have made a fine jump.’ Then down he ran, and took his sword and gave each of them a very fine wound or two on the breast and set off to look for the soldiers. ‘There lie the giants,’ said he; ‘I have killed them, but it has been no small job, for they even tore trees up in their struggle.’ ‘Have you any wounds?’ asked they. ‘That is a likely matter, truly,’ said he; ‘they have not touched a hair of my head.’ But the soldiers would not believe him till they rode into the wood and found the giants weltering in their blood, and the trees lying around torn up by the roots.
The king, after he had got rid of his enemies, was not much pleased at the thought of giving up half his kingdom to a tailor; so he said, ‘You have not yet done; in the palace court lies a bear with whom you must pass the night, and if when I rise in the morning I find you still living, you shall then have your reward.’ Now he thought he had got rid of him, for the bear had never yet let any one go away alive who had come within reach of his claws. ‘Very well,’ said the tailor, ‘I am willing.’
So when evening came our little tailor was led out and shut up in the court with the bear, who rose at once to give him a friendly welcome with his paw. ‘Softly, softly, my friend,’ said he; ‘I know a way to please you;’ then at his ease and as if he cared nothing about the matter, he pulled out of his pocket some fine walnuts, cracked them, and ate the kernels. When the bear saw this, he took a great fancy to having some nuts too; so the tailor felt in his pocket and gave him a handful, not of walnuts, but nice round pebbles. The bear snapped them up, but could not crack one of them, do what he would. ‘What a clumsy thick head thou art!’ thought the beast to itself; ‘thou canst not crack a nut today.’ Then said he to the tailor, ‘Friend, pray crack me the nuts.’ ‘Why, what a lout you are,’ said the tailor, ‘to have such a jaw as that, and not be able to crack a little nut! Well! engage to be friends with me and I’ll help you.’ So he took the stones, and slily changed them for nuts, put them in his mouth, and crack! they went. ‘I must try for myself, however,’ said the bear; ‘now I see how you do it, I am sure I can do it myself.’ Then the tailor gave him the cobble stones again, and the bear lay down and worked away as hard as he could, and bit and bit with all his force till he broke all his teeth, and lay down quite tired.
But the tailor began to think this would not last long, and that the bear might find him out and break the bargain; so he pulled a fiddle out from under his coat and played him a tune. As soon as the bear heard it, he could not help jumping up and beginning to dance; and when he had jigged away for a while, the thing pleased him so much that he said, ‘Hark ye, friend! is the fiddle hard to play upon?’ ‘No! not at all!’ said the other; ‘look ye, I lay my left hand here, and then I take the bow with my right hand thus, and scrape it over the strings there, and away it goes merrily, hop, sa, sa! fal, lal, la!’ ‘Will you teach me to fiddle,’ said the bear, ‘so that I may have music whenever I want to dance?’ ‘With all my heart; but let me look at your claws, they are so very long that I must first clip your nails a little bit.’ Then the bear lifted up his paws one after another, and the tailor screwed them down tight, and said, ‘Now wait till I come with my scissors.’ So he left the bear to growl as loud as he liked, and laid himself down on a heap of straw in the corner and slept soundly. In the morning when the king came, he found the tailor sitting merrily eating his breakfast, and could no longer help keeping his word; and thus the little man became a great one.
The Crows and the Soldier
A worthy soldier had saved a good deal of money out of his pay; for he worked hard, and did not spend all he earned in eating and drinking, as many others do. Now he had two comrades who were great rogues, and wanted to rob him of his money, but behaved outwardly towards him in a friendly way. ‘Comrade,’ said they to him one day, ‘why should we stay here shut up in this town like prisoners, when you at any rate have earned enough to live upon for the rest of your days in peace and plenty at home by your own fireside?’ They talked so often to him in this manner, that he at last said he would go and try his luck with them; but they all the time thought of nothing but how they should manage to steal his money from him.
When they had gone a little way, the two rogues said, ‘We must go by the right hand road, for that will take us quickest into another country where we shall be safe.’ Now they knew all the while that what they were saying was untrue; and as soon as the soldier said, ‘No, that will take us straight back into the town we came from; we must keep on the left hand;’ they picked a quarrel with him, and said, ‘What do you give yourself airs for? you know nothing about it;’ and then they fell upon him and knocked him down, and beat him over the head till he was blind. Then they took all the money out of his pockets and dragged him to a gallows tree that stood hard by, bound him fast down at the foot of it, and went back into the town with the money; but the poor blind man did not know where he was; and he felt all around him, and finding that he was bound to a large beam of wood, thought it was a cross, and said, ‘After all, they have done kindly in leaving me under a cross; now Heaven will guard me;’ so he raised himself up and began to pray.
When night came on, he heard something fluttering over his head. It turned out to be three crows, who flew round and round, and at last perched upon the tree. By and by they began to talk together, and he heard one of them say, ‘Sister, what is the best news with you today?’ ‘Oh, if men knew what we know!’ said the other; ‘the princess is ill, and the king has vowed to marry her to any one who will cure her; but this none can do, for she will not be well until yonder flower is burnt to ashes and swallowed by her.’ ‘Oh, indeed,’ said the other crow, ‘if men did but know what we know! to-night will fall from heaven a dew of such healing power, that even the blind man who washes his eyes with it will see again;’ and the third spoke, and said, ‘Oh, if men knew what we know! the flower is wanted but for one, the dew is wanted but for few; but there is a great dearth of water in the town; all the wells are dried up; and no one knows that they must take away the large square stone out of the market-place, and dig underneath it, and that then the finest water will spring up.’
When the three crows had done talking, he heard them fluttering round again, and at last away they flew. Greatly wondering at what he had heard, and overjoyed at the thought of getting his sight, he tried with all his strength to break loose from his bonds; at last he found himself free, and plucked some of the grass that grew beneath him and washed his eyes with the dew that had fallen upon it. At once his eye-sight came to him again, and he saw by the light of the moon and the stars that he was beneath the gallows-tree, and not the cross, as he had thought. Then he gathered together in a bottle as much of the dew as he could to take away with him, and looked around till he saw the flower that grew close by; and when he had burned it he gathered up the ashes, and set out on his way towards the king’s court.
When he reached the palace, he told the king he w
as come to cure the princess; and when she had taken of the ashes and been made well, he claimed her for his wife, as the reward that was to be given; but the king looking upon him and seeing that his clothes were so shabby, would not keep his word, and thought to get rid of him by saying, ‘Whoever wants to have the princess for his wife, must find enough water for the use of the town, where there is this summer a great dearth.’ Then the soldier went out and told the people to take up the square stone in the market-place and dig for water underneath; and when they had done so there came up a fine spring, that gave enough water for the whole town. So the king could no longer get off giving him his daughter, and they were married and lived happily together.
Some time after, as he was walking one day through a field, he met his two wicked comrades who had treated him so basely. Though they did not know him, he knew them at once, and went up to them and said, ‘Look upon me, I am your old comrade whom you beat and robbed and left blind; Heaven has defeated your wicked wishes, and turned all the mischief which you brought upon me into good luck.’ When they heard this they fell at his feet and begged for pardon, and he had a kind and good heart, so he forgave them, and took them to his palace and gave them food and clothes. And he told them all that had happened to him, and how he had reached these honours. After they had heard the whole story they said to themselves, ‘Why should not we go and sit some night under the gallows? we may hear something that will bring us good luck too.’
Next night they stole away; and, when they had sat under the tree a little while, they heard a fluttering noise over their heads; and the three crows came and perched upon it. ‘Sisters,’ said one of them, ‘some one must have overheard us, for all the world is talking of the wonderful things that have happened: the princess is well; the flower has been plucked and burnt; a blind man’s sight has been given him again, and they have dug a fresh well that gives water to the whole town: let us look about, perhaps we may find some one near; if we do he shall rue the day.’ Then they began to flutter about, and soon found out the two men below, and flew at them in a rage, beating and pecking them in the face with their wings and beaks till they were quite blind, and lay nearly dead upon the ground under the gallows. The next day passed over and they did not return to the palace; and their old comrade began to wonder where they had been, and went out the following morning in search of them, and at last found them where they lay, dreadfully repaid for all their folly and baseness.
Pee-Wit
A poor countryman whose name was Pee-wit lived with his wife in a very quiet way in the parish where he was born. One day, as he was ploughing with his two oxen in the field he heard all on a sudden some one calling out his name. Turning round, he saw nothing but a bird that kept crying Pee-wit! Pee-wit! Now this poor bird is called a Pee-wit, and like the cuckoo always keeps crying out its own name. But the countryman thought it was mocking him, so he took up a huge stone and threw it at it; the bird flew off safe and sound, but the stone fell upon the head of one of the oxen, and killed him on the spot. ‘What is to be done with the odd one?’ thought Pee-wit to himself as he looked at the ox that was left; so without more ado he killed him too; skinned them both, and set out for the neighbouring town, to sell the hides to the tanner for as much as he could get. He soon found out where the tanner lived, and knocked at the door. Before, however, the door was opened, he saw through the window that the mistress of the house was hiding in an old chest a friend of hers, whom she seemed to wish no one should see. By and by the door was opened. ‘What do you want?’ said the woman. Then he told her that he wanted to sell his hides; and it came out that the tanner was not at home, and that no one there ever made bargains but himself. The countryman said he would sell cheap, and did not mind giving his hides for the old chest in the corner; meaning the one he had seen the good woman’s friend get into. Of course the wife would not agree to this; and they went on talking the matter over so long, that at last in came the tanner and asked what it was all about. Pee-wit told him the whole story, and asked him whether he would give the old chest for the hides. ‘To be sure I will,’ said he; and scolded his wife for saying nay to such a bargain, which she ought to have been glad to make if the countryman was willing. Then up he took the chest on his shoulders, and all the good woman could say mattered nothing; away it went into the countryman’s cart, and off he drove. But when they had gone some way, the young man within began to make himself heard, and to beg and pray to be let out. Pee-wit, however, was not to be bought over; till at last after a long parley a thousand ducats were bid and taken; the money was paid, and at that price the poor fellow was set free, and went about his business.
Then Pee-wit went home very happy, and built a new house and seemed so rich that his neighbours wondered, and said, ‘Pee-wit must have been where the golden snow falls.’ So they took him before the next justice of the peace, to give an account of himself, and show that he came honestly by his wealth; and then he told them that he had sold his hides for one thousand ducats. When they heard it they all killed their oxen and would sell the hides to the same tanner; but the justice said, ‘My maid shall have the first chance;’ so off she went, and when she came to the tanner, he laughed at them all, and said he had given their neighbour nothing but an old chest.
At this they were all very angry, and laid their heads together to work him some mischief which they thought they could do while he was digging in his garden. All this, however, came to the ears of the countryman, who was plagued with a sad scold for his wife; and he thought to himself, ‘If any one is to come into trouble, I don’t see why it should not be my wife, rather than me;’ so he said to her that he wished she would humour him in a whim he had taken into his head, and would put on his clothes, and dig the garden in his stead. The wife did what was asked, and next morning began digging; but soon came some of the neighbours, and, thinking it was Pee-wit, threw a stone at her (harder perhaps than they meant), and killed her at once. Poor Pee-wit was rather sorry at this, but still thought that he had had a lucky escape for himself, and that perhaps he might after all turn the death of his wife to some account: so he dressed her in her own clothes, put a basket with fine fruit (which was now scarce, it being winter) into her hand, and set her by the road side on a broad bench.
After a while came by a fine coach with six horses, servants, and outriders, and within sat a noble lord who lived not far off. When his lordship saw the beautiful fruit, he sent one of the servants to the woman to ask what was the price of her goods. The man went and asked, ‘What is the price of this fruit?’ No answer. He asked again. No answer: and when this had happened three times, he became angry; and, thinking she was asleep, gave her a blow, and down she fell backwards into the pond that was behind the seat. Then up ran Pee-wit, and cried and sorrowed because they had drowned his poor wife, and threatened to have the lord and his servants tried for what they had done. His lordship begged him to be easy, and offered to give him the coach and horses, servants and all; so the countryman after a long time let himself be appeased a little, took what they gave, got into the coach and set off towards his own home again.
As he came near, the neighbours wondered much at the beautiful coach and horses, and still more when they stopped, and Pee-wit got out at his own door. Then he told them the whole story, which only vexed them still more; so they took him and fastened him up in a tub and were going to throw him into the lake that was hard by. Whilst they were rolling the tub on before them towards the water, they passed by an alehouse and stopped to refresh themselves a little before they put an end to Pee-wit; meantime they tied the tub to a tree and there left it while they were enjoying themselves within doors.
Pee-wit no sooner found himself alone than he began to turn over in his mind how he could get free. He listened, and soon heard Ba, ba! from a flock of sheep and lambs that were coming by. Then he lifted up his voice, and shouted out, ‘I will not be burgomaster, I say; I will not be made burgomaster.’ The shepherd hearing
this went up, and said, ‘What is all this noise about?’ ‘Oh!’ said Pee-wit, ‘my neighbours will make me burgomaster against my will; and when I told them I would not agree, they put me into the cask and are going to throw me into the lake.’ ‘I should like very well to be burgomaster if I were you,’ said the shepherd. ‘Open the cask then,’ said the other, ‘and let me out, and get in yourself, and they will make you burgomaster instead of me.’ No sooner said than done, the shepherd was in, Pee-wit was out; and as there was nobody to take care of the shepherd’s flock, he drove it off merrily towards his own house.
When the neighbours came out of the alehouse, they rolled the cask on, and the shepherd began to cry out, ‘I will be burgomaster now; I will be burgomaster now.’ ‘I dare say you will, but you shall take a swim first,’ said a neighbour, as he gave the cask the last push over into the lake. This done, away they went home merrily, leaving the shepherd to get out as well as he could.
But as they came in at one side of the village, who should they meet coming in the other way but Pee-wit driving a fine flock of sheep and lambs before him. ‘How came you here?’ cried all with one voice. ‘Oh! the lake is enchanted,’ said he; ‘when you threw me in, I sank deep and deep into the water, till at last I came to the bottom; there I knocked out the bottom of the cask and found myself in a beautiful meadow with fine flocks grazing upon it, so I chose a few for myself, and here I am.’ ‘Cannot we have some too?’ said they. ‘Why not? there are hundreds and thousands left; you have nothing to do but jump in and fetch them out.’