# The Czechoslovak Review/Volume 3/Fairy Tale About a Prince and Three Journeymen

Compare: Long, Broad, and Sharp-Eyes
Fairy Tale About a Prince and Three Journeymen
By V. ŘÍHA.
Behind a small village met three journeymen; a tailor, a shoemaker and a blacksmith. All day they went about the village begging and spent all they received for meals and drinks. Then in the twilight they set forth along the road toward the woods. “And who are you, comrades,” asked the blacksmith. “I am a journeyman blacksmith, but I know a trick besides.” He was very strong, had a leathern bundle and a leathern apron.
“I am a tailor,” said the man with a beard; he carried a small green bundle. “And even though I am of a slender body, I also know a trick besides.”
“And so do I,” growled the shoemaker who was very fat and sweating. “And I am a shoemaker.”
“Let us journey together,” the blacksmith spoke. “And why should we bother long about the night lodging? It is a fine, warm evening, and the sun is already setting; let us stay in the woods, make a fire, tell some good stories and then sleep soundly under the open sky.”
Said, done. They reached the pine forest which was still warm from the sun’s rays, found a spot aside from the road, spread their bundles on the grey moss and made preparations for the night. The prudent tailor took out some potatoes which he had gathered on the way and cleared the place where the fire was to be built of underbrush and moss, that the forest might not be set afire. The choleric shoemaker grumbled that they would be full of bugs and ants and kept shaking his blanket; then he filled his pipe with cherryleaves mixed with tobacco. The blacksmith located in his breastpocket salt wrapped in paper, got some bacon from his knapsack, and then proceeded to gather sticks for firewood. He sought only resinous twigs from the crooked pines which were already half dried and would burn well. Then he pulled out a cheap knife and a tinder-box, put the tinder under the small, dry twigs, and when the fire had a good start and transformed itself into a stinging smoke which rolled under the pine branches, the three journeymen took their seats around the fire.
The tailor brought out a slender cigarette, the shoemaker impatiently stirred about the potatoes in the live coals and angrily puffed at his small pipe. The blacksmith cleaned thoroughly his capacious meerschaum, filled and stuffed it, laid a live coal on the tobacco, and soon the smoke was ascending like a cloud to the pine tops.
“Well, pals,” he said, “let us not sit like this; let us talk about something. It is too early to sleep. Every one knows some story and we can make the time pass pleasantly.”
As he said that the silence of the wood was broken by the sound of cracking twigs. Somebody was walking in the direction of their fire. Soon they distinguished a tall man approaching. He came to the fire, bade them “Good evening” and begged permission to join them. The shoemaker muttered something unintelligible, but the blacksmith answered kindly:
“Come nearer, friend, come nearer and sit down. There is room enough for all.”
When the stranger had seated himself, all remained silent for a while and looked him over. He was a handsome man, clad in fine clothes, wearing good, uncobbled shoes, and carrying a soft bundle lined with deer-skin and a silver-mounted cane. They did not talk much. When the potatoes were done, they offered some to the stranger and than ate in silence ,the shoemaker the most of all. After a while the blacksmith said:
“Where do you come from, young man, if I may ask? What is your trade? We three are comrades: this one is tailor, this man is shoemaker and I am blacksmith. But we each know a trick besides.”
“I am a prince”, answered the new arrival, “and can do nothing besides that. I am traveling, and am greatly troubled.”
“I thought immediately”, said the blacksmith, “that you were of better clay than we. But this comes in handy. We were just saying that each of us would tell a story, before we go to sleep. You might begin and tell us about that trade of yours and about your trouble.”
“Let me be the last one,” answered the prince. “I want to rest a little”. And he applied himself to potatoes, for he was hungry.
“Well, then”, remarked the blacksmith, “I will begin.” He blew a large cloud of smoke from his meerschaum and stretched himself. His arms showed well under the rolled-up sleeves. They were powerful, almost terrifying in their size. The muscles were like steel, the veins strung like violin-strings, the palms rough with callouses.
“Ever since my childhood I can do an unusual trick. When I was a boy, quite a baby, my mother guarded me very carefully, but I would evade her and run to the road mender to help him break stones with my fist, and he would let me have a few puffs at his pipe.”
“When I became older ,my father, a blacksmith, tok me for his apprentice. But I was always in trouble; I smashed the hammer, cleft ​the anvil in twain and was always breaking things. One day the count brought his horse to be shod at our place. The horse would not stand still and father called to me: Grab him; you have enough strength to keep him from moving.
“I grabbed the horse in the middle and I must have squeezed him too hard. The horse fell down and I could not put him on his legs any more. Father chased me from his house, and for a long time I just moved from place to place seeing the world. Finally I went to work for a farmer as hired man. The farmer was stingy and did not give me enough to eat.”
“I would not stay at such a place”, interjected the shoemaker, puffing hard at his pipe.
“Well, I did not keep company with him very long”, continued the blacksmith. “Once I got into the pantry and ate at one sitting all the bacon stored there. The farmer’s wife complained to her husband, and he was very angry, but did not dare to say anything. But the next day he ordered: “John, drive to the forest and bring home a tree, but be back by noon.”
“As you can see, it was quite an order; for one man cannot cut down the tree, chop off the branches, load it on the wagon and bring it home, all in one day. But I got ready, took along a loaf of bread and a chunk of hard cheese—enough to make the farmer’s wife faint—and drove off to the forest. There I stretched myself in the shade until the sun was high up. I went to work then, selected my fir tree, tore it up with roots like this pine—" and the blacksmith got up, turned around and seized a tree with his veined hands. His muscles tightened, the roots cracked, the branches shook, the moss, the roots, the earth with the herbage flew about as in an explosion, and the dry, resinous trunk bent under the terrible strength of the blacksmith’s arms; its branches rustled, parted the crowns of its neighbors and fell to the mossy ground among the the low underbrush. The trio around the fire were astounded, but the blacksmith calmly seated himself, pressed down the tobacco in his meerschaum and continued:
“I loaded the tree on the wagon and hauled it home. The wagon was twisted out of shape with the weight of it and the horses sweated hard; we pulled down a bit of the gate with the branches, as we came to the farmhouse, but the farmer had his tree, as he wanted it.
“From that time on he hated me and feared me. I saw that he was plotting something against me, and so I was on my guard. A few days later he said to me: “John, I wish you would clean our well; something rots there.”
“Very well. I climbed on the railing, we laid some beams across, lowered the ropes, and I let myself down. The well was already drained of water, but it was damp. Suddenly I heard a rushing sound—some wicked business, I thought instantly—: and just then a millstone dropped an me. I had scarcely time to catch it on my shoulder. I took hold of it and flung it up again shouting: “Why do you let your chickens scratch near the well and throw down sand on me? Chase them away.” The stone I threw up struck the roof, broke through the attic and lodged in the ceiling of the living room. That was enough for the farmer. From that time on he left me strictly alone.
“But the count heard about me. He was a tyrannical man, very severe to his serfs. He sent for me and said: “I hear that you are not afraid of anything. I will find out whether that is so. There is a mill here which is said to be haunted; nobody will work in it or stay there over night. You will get some wheat, drive to the mill and grind it there.”
“I was rather curious to meet the devil and see what he looked like. So I got ready, loaded the wheat and reached the haunted mill in the evening. The wheels were turning, but not a human being was in sight anywhere. I took the sacks, carried them into the milling-room, poured the wheat out on the stones and waited.
“After a while the mill came to a full stop. I took the lantern and went to see what was wrong. There among the whitewashed beams I saw someone with shining yes, busy at some mischief. I called out: “What business have you to stop the mill?”
“He merely looked at me in a frightful manner and sunddenly sprang toward me. We caught each other; I squeezed his claws till he screamed and then pressed him against the mill-stone, till his hind quarters were grazed. The fellow wept and shouted and made all sorts of promises to me; but not till he foreswore himself never to do me any mischief and to pay me well, did I loosen my grip on him. He could hardly limp away. Then two other devils came in dragging a heavy chest and said: “We intended no evil, sir, we were only testing you. Here, take this for your bravery, but we beg you earnestly leave us alone.”
“So I let them go. The rest of the night passed quietly; the mill went merrily on, the moon shone. In the morning I loaded the flour and the chest which was filled with silver, and thus returned home.
“The lord was greatly amazed, when he heard the story. He said: “So you do not fear the devils? So many have gone to the mill, and you alone returned. I must go with you myself tomorrow. Have the horses ready in the morning. We will go together to take a look at that place of devils.”
“I thought to myself that there was no sense in going to such an evil place twice. But a lord is a lord. I left my silver at the farmer’s, tied up my bundle and the next day we rode off. The road was far from good; it led over mountains and through ravines and wild plains all the way till evening came. During the day the sky became overcast and heavy drops fell. Then came thun​der and lightning—a mean trip. Finally we came near the mill and I made out the devil whom I had pressed against the mill-stone standing near the dam, still somewhat doubled up. As soon as he saw us, he shouted: “Comrades, the count is coming.”
“Instantly a host of the devils swarmed about the carriage and dragged the count down from his seat. “You are most welcome,” they shouted, “we waited for you long, and now you shan’t escape us.”
“I did not like the situation at all; and now the horses took fright, the reins fell from my hands, and we dashed at a terrible gallop over ravines and washouts, throught forest and plain, over roads and rough ground. My hat was blown away, and as I turned to catch it I saw the mill afar off in the flash of lightning, and there was the swarm of those black ones with the count writhing among them. Then everything disappeared. It was hours, before the exhausted horses stopped with a smashed carriage. We were in a distant, strange part of the country and nobody could tell me the way back. So I sold the horses with the carriage to the dog-catcher for a song. My chest with silver was lost to me, and again I went poor into the world, until I got here.”
“Master blacksmith, I like the looks of you,” said the prince. “I would like to take you into my service, if you are willing.”
“Oh, gladly, sir,” laughed the blacksmith. “I am willing to do anything. There is little work at my trade anyhow—hard times.”
“I am in a great trouble,” resumed the prince. “I lived all my life with my father and never went anywhere, until one day I saw the picture of a princess in one of the old rooms. Immediately I fell in love with her. But my father insisted that I must give up all thought of her, that I would be unhappy. Her parents would give her to no one, unless he could accomplish three very difficult feats; and should he fail, he would be immediately put to death. Many perished already, so that nobody dares to attempt the task anymore. But I longed for this princess so much and begged so earnestly to be allowed to go that at last mother got ready this bundle and gave me much money, and thus I left home. I have been a long time on the way, but I hesitate to make the attempt alone, lest I lose my life.”
“If your grace,” began the tailor, “could use another helper, I would be glad to serve you. For I also know a trick.” And the slender tailor rose and then kept on rising to an unbelievable height. He was getting taller and taller, until he straightened himself and reached far above the pines. All were amazed. Then the tailor slowly contracted and said:
“This is the trick that I can do; it may be useful some day.”
The prince thanked him with joy and paid him some money in advance on his hire.
The shoemaker had been listening and watching without saying a word. Now he got up heavily and went back a few paces to a large clearing in the woods. While the rest were still talking, suddenly something was rolling upon them. They looked—the shoemaker puffed out his cheeks and his belly was visibly swelling, until it pressed the underbrush to the ground, filled the whole clearing and actually drove the three companions from the circle of the fire. When the shoemaker had sufficiently demonstrated his feat, he again contracted himself and returned puffing to his friends. The prince gladly hired him also, and then all four lay down on their blankets to gain strength for the next day’s journey.
In the morning they started for the kingdom with the beautiful princess. All were merry, ate well, for they had plenty of money. The prince was happy, because he felt confident that with such helpers he would surely win the princess. So the time passed quickly and one day at the end of a wide, dusty road they saw the city of their destination.
There were banners fluttering in the breeze above the gates, where soldiers stood guard; in the city bands were playing and the people seemed to be dressed in their best clothes. It was morning, when they came to the inn below the castle. The prince ordered meat and wine and asked the host what the people were celebrating. The innkeeper answered:
“It is evident, gentlemen, that you come from afar, if you do not know that the royal princess is celebrating her birthday today.”
The prince then declared his intention of asking the king for the hand of the princess. At that the inn-keeper protested vehemently:
“I beseech you most earnestly, young sir, do not attempt that, for it would be such a pity, if you were to lose your life. The king has a garden in which he hangs all the would-be-bridegrooms that failed to accomplish the three feats. There is one on almost every tree so that the king walks in the shade, when he goes into that garden. Now he is in bad humor, because for a long time no candidate has come forward. The princess is glad that men do not perish any more for her sake, but as soon as you come, she will be saddened again.”
“Oh well,” the blacksmith replied, “do not fear for us. We will all go together and together we can do a great deal.”
After they had eaten and drunk their fill, they dressed themselves smartly, combed their hair and went up to the castle. As soon as they announced in the gate that they came to ask for the princess’ hand, there was much sounding of trumpets and they were taken to the king. He received them warmly, for he was pleased to get four victims at once. A great feast was spread on the meadow below the castle. Hundreds of oxen roasted on the spit gave out delicious odor; ​there were also roasted calves and fowls, and hundreds of barrels of wine flowed freely. The whole city was invited to the feast. When all was ready, the king himself led the four companions to the place of honor and seated them on a stand profusely decorated with gold and velvet. Then he said:
“I welcome you with joy, gentlemen. Your coming is a great honor to us. But before the wedding can take place, three feats must be accomplished.”
The prince did not even listen; he gazed entranced at the princess who was crying, and his heart melted within him. But the blacksmith answered:
“Your grace, we will do anything you may ask. Just tell us your wishes.”
The king laughed and said:
“I would like to announce the approaching wedding to my neighbor, a good friend, whose capital city is several hundred miles distant. I should like him to send his answer and congratulations, and I want the answer before we sit down to the feast.”
The prince was greatly alarmed at this request. But the tailor stepped forward, took the letter and bowing to the king said: “A mere trifle, your majesty, a mere trifle. I will gladly undertake that.”
And before the king realized what was happening, the tailor with the letter in hand grew so tall that he reached the clouds, and in that moment his long legs disappeared. The king looked amazed at the prince and said:
“That servant of yours knows a very clever trick.”
All were still looking in the direction in which the tailor disappeared, unable to say a word; and already the slender legs of the tailor appeared once more and the next instant he resumed his ordinary height and handed a letter to the king:
“I am bidden to present the king’s compliments; his majesty cannot come just now, but he hopes to get here in about three weeks.”
The king frowned a little, but he bethought himself of the remaining two chances. He turned to the prince and said:
“This feast is given in your honor, and you must eat everything yourselves. If you can eat all that is prepared, and if for the third test you can drink up all the wine, you will have won the princess. Try it all together.”
“That does not suit me,” cried the shoemaker angrily. “What would remain for me, if all ate?” And immediately he sat down and had the serving-men wait on him. The roasted oxen he gulped directly from the spits and sucked whole barrels of wine at one swallow, while the roasted calves and the fowls he consumed as a side-dish. The more he ate, the more his belly was swelling so that soon it knocked the tables over, pushed the people off and threatened to overthrow the whole stand. When he was done, he wiped the bristling mustache wih his greasy hand and remarked:
“It was good. I wish I could have a feast like that every day.”
Thus the three tests were met. The princess was happy that finally she would get a husband. But the king was angry and said:
“The terms were met and the princess is yours. But I will give no more dowry than one of you can carry away from the royal treasury.” At least there he would beat them.
The prince took his leave with compliments, saying that they would come for the dowry in the afternoon. Scarcely had the king left, when the shoemaker and the tailor got busy with oxen hides to make a bag. The shomaker punched holes with an awl and the tailor pulled the cord through with his teeth. They sewed such a large bag that it could hold an entire pond. When they were done, the blacksmith rolled up the bag and went to the treasury. All the doors were opened before him so that he might choose what to carry away. But the blacksmith lost no time choosing; he swept everything right and left into the bag. When the treasury was completely cleaned out, the bag was only two thirds full.
In the meantime the prince went for the princess who was quite happy to leave her cruel father, and they all left the city. The shoemaker was rather heavy and walked with difficudty, so that he was delaying them.
After the blacksmith carried away the dowry, the chamberlains rushed to the king to tell him, how completely the treasury had been ransacked. The king’s wrath was at once kindled, and he ordered the army to be collected and pursue the prince.
The four companions had just reached a valley among the hills: the shoemaker crept along with difficulty, but the blacksmith carried the bag with as much ease as if it were a cane. Then the tailor happened to look around and explaimed:
“Comrades, we are in a sorry plight. The soldiers are after us—cavalry.”
The blacksmith tried to tell them that they had nothing to fear, that he would see them through, but the shoemaker was in a great fright and kept yelling:
“This is my finish. I will run away. We are in terrible plight . . .” In vain they tried to comfort him. Pushing his big belly ahead of him he disappeared in the woods.
In the meantime the blacksmith dropped his bag gently on the ground and said: “This is my trick.”
He picked out a mighty oak which grew in the gulch, clinging with its roots to the boulders. He took hold of it, and in order not to frighten the prince pulled it gently out of the rock so that only half of the narrow valley was filled with ​dirt that dropped from the roots; the big stones did not even fall out of the net work of the roots. In the meantime the army was rushing upon them with sounding trumpets and flying banners. The soldiers had caught sight of them and urged their horses forward.
But now the blacksmith grasped the oak and turning it around swept the valley clean with it as with a broom. Soldiers and horses were thrown back and aside like so much dirt. In a moment the valley was cleared, the men in the rear begging for mercy and displaying white flags. The blacksmith shook his oak switch at them and graciously allowed them to run away. As soon as peace was restored, the shoemaker crawled out of the underbrush, reduced in size and cured.
Merrily they continued their journey, until they reached the prince’s kingdom. The prince was received with royal welcome and a glorious wedding was celebrated. The three journeymen enjoyed themselves greatly at the wedding; the prince paid them well for their services and kept them in comfort all the rest of their lives.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1937, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 86 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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