Just
let twelve spinning-wheels be brought into the ante-chamber some day,
and they will go to them and be pleased with them, and that is what no
man would do.” The King liked the advice, and had the spinning-wheels
placed in the ante-chamber. But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen, went to them,
and disclosed the project. Then when they were alone the King’s
daughter said to her eleven girls, “Put some constraint on yourselves,
and do not look round at the spinning-wheels.” And next morning when
the King had his twelve huntsmen summoned, they went through the
ante-chamber, and never once looked at the spinning wheels. Then the
King again said to the lion, “Thou hast deceived me, they are men, for
they have not looked at the spinning-wheels.” The lion replied, “They
have learnt that they were going to be put to the test, and have
restrained themselves.” The King, however, would no longer believe the
lion. The twelve huntsmen always followed the King to the chase, and his
liking for them continually increased. Now it came to pass that once
when they were out hunting, news came that the King’s betrothed was
approaching. When the true bride heard that, it hurt her so much that
her heart was almost broken, and she fell fainting to the ground. The
King thought something had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to
him, wanted to help him, and drew his glove off. Then he saw the ring
which he had given to his first bride, and when he looked in her face
he recognized her. Then his heart was so touched that he kissed her,
and when she opened her eyes he said, “Thou art mine, and I am thine,
and no one in the world can alter that.” He sent a messenger to the
other bride, and entreated her to return to her own kingdom, for he had
a wife already, and a man who had just found an old dish did not
require a new one. Thereupon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion
was again taken into favour, because, after all, he had told the truth. 68 The Thief and his Master

Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went into the church
and prayed to our Lord God to know which would be most advantageous for
him. Then the clerk got behind the altar, and said, “Thieving,
thieving.” On this Hans goes back to his son, and tells him he is to
learn thieving, and that the Lord God had said so. So he goes with his
son to seek a man who is acquainted with thieving. They walk a long
time and come into a great forest, where stands a little house with an
old woman in it. Hans says, “Do you know of a man who is acquainted
with thieving?” “You can learn that here quite well,” says the woman,
“my son is a master of it.” So he speaks with the son, and asks if he
knows thieving really well? The master-thief says, “I will teach him
well. Come back when a year is over, and then if you recognize your
son, I will take no payment at all for teaching him; but if you don’t
know him, you must give me two hundred thalers.”

The father goes home again, and the son learns witchcraft and thieving,
thoroughly. When the year is out, the father is full of anxiety to know
how he is to contrive to recognize his son. As he is thus going about
in his trouble, he meets a little dwarf, who says, “Man, what ails you,
that you are always in such trouble?”

“Oh,” says Hans, “a year ago I placed my son with a master-thief who
told me I was to come back when the year was out, and that if I then
did not know my son when I saw him, I was to pay two hundred thalers;
but if I did know him I was to pay nothing, and now I am afraid of not
knowing him and can’t tell where I am to get the money.” Then the dwarf
tells him to take a small basket of bread with him, and to stand
beneath the chimney. “There on the cross-beam is a basket, out of which
a little bird is peeping, and that is your son.”

Hans goes thither, and throws a little basket full of black bread in
front of the basket with the bird in it, and the little bird comes out,
and looks up. “Hollo, my son, art thou here?” says the father, and the
son is delighted to see his father, but the master-thief says, “The
devil must have prompted you, or how could you have known your son?”
“Father, let us go,” said the youth. Then the father and son set out homeward. On the way a carriage comes
driving by. Hereupon the son says to his father, “I will change myself
into a large greyhound, and then you can earn a great deal of money by
me.” Then the gentleman calls from the carriage, “My man, will you sell
your dog?” “Yes,” says the father. “How much do you want for it?”
“Thirty thalers.” “Eh, man, that is a great deal, but as it is such a
very fine dog I will have it.” The gentleman takes it into his
carriage, but when they have driven a little farther the dog springs
out of the carriage through the window, and goes back to his father,
and is no longer a greyhound. They go home together. Next day there is a fair in the neighboring
town, so the youth says to his father, “I will now change myself into a
beautiful horse, and you can sell me; but when you have sold me, you
must take off my bridle, or I cannot become a man again.” Then the
father goes with the horse to the fair, and the master-thief comes and
buys the horse for a hundred thalers, but the father forgets, and does
not take off the bridle. So the man goes home with the horse, and puts
it in the stable. When the maid crosses the threshold, the horse says,
“Take off my bridle, take off my bridle.” Then the maid stands still,
and says, “What, canst thou speak?” So she goes and takes the bridle
off, and the horse becomes a sparrow, and flies out at the door, and
the wizard becomes a sparrow also, and flies after him. Then they come
together and cast lots, but the master loses, and betakes himself to
the water and is a fish. Then the youth also becomes a fish, and they
cast lots again, and the master loses. So the master changes himself
into a cock, and the youth becomes a fox, and bites the master’s head
off, and he died and has remained dead to this day. 69 Jorinda and Joringel

There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and thick forest,
and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone. In the day-time
she changed herself into a cat or a screech-owl, but in the evening she
took her proper shape again as a human being. She could lure wild
beasts and birds to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted
them. If any one came within one hundred paces of the castle he was
obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until she
bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this
circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work
cage, and carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about
seven thousand cages of rare birds in the castle. Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer
than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had
promised to marry each other.