He
was, however, hardly gone before the woman got up, and the parson was
there directly. But now we will leave these two for a while, and follow the peasant,
who walked on quickly without stopping, in order to get the sooner to
the Göckerli hill, and on his way he met his gossip. His gossip was an
egg-merchant, and was just coming from the market, where he had sold
his eggs. “May you be blessed,” said the gossip, “where are you off to
so fast?”

“To all eternity, my friend,” said the peasant, “my wife is ill, and I
have been to-day to hear the parson’s sermon, and he preached that if
any one had in his house a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a
sick father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or any one else, and
made a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of
laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the
sick wife, the sick father, the sick mother, the sick sister, brother
or whosoever else it was, would be cured immediately, and so I have got
the bag for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer from the parson, and now
I am beginning my pilgrimage.” “But listen, gossip,” said the
egg-merchant to the peasant, “are you, then, stupid enough to believe
such a thing as that? Don’t you know what it means? The parson wants to
spend a whole day alone with your wife in peace, so he has given you
this job to do to get you out of the way.”

“My word!” said the peasant. “How I’d like to know if that’s true!”

“Come, then,” said the gossip, “I’ll tell you what to do. Get into my
egg-basket and I will carry you home, and then you will see for
yourself.” So that was settled, and the gossip put the peasant into his
egg-basket and carried him home. When they got to the house, hurrah! but all was going merry there! The
woman had already had nearly everything killed that was in the
farmyard, and had made pancakes, and the parson was there, and had
brought his fiddle with him. The gossip knocked at the door, and woman
asked who was there. “It is I, gossip,” said the egg-merchant, “give me
shelter this night; I have not sold my eggs at the market, so now I
have to carry them home again, and they are so heavy that I shall never
be able to do it, for it is dark already.”

“Indeed, my friend,” said the woman, “thou comest at a very
inconvenient time for me, but as thou art here it can’t be helped, come
in, and take a seat there on the bench by the stove.” Then she placed
the gossip and the basket which he carried on his back on the bench by
the stove. The parson, however, and the woman, were as merry as
possible. At length the parson said, “Listen, my dear friend, thou
canst sing beautifully; sing something to me.” “Oh,” said the woman, “I
cannot sing now, in my young days indeed I could sing well enough, but
that’s all over now.”

“Come,” said the parson once more, “do sing some little song.”

On that the woman began and sang,

“I’ve sent my husband away from me
To the Göckerli hill in Italy.”


Thereupon the parson sang,

“I wish ’twas a year before he came back,
I’d never ask him for the laurel-leaf sack.”
Hallelujah. Then the gossip who was in the background began to sing (but I ought to
tell you the peasant was called Hildebrand), so the gossip sang,

“What art thou doing, my Hildebrand dear,
There on the bench by the stove so near?”
Hallelujah. And then the peasant sang from his basket,

“All singing I ever shall hate from this day,
And here in this basket no longer I’ll stay.”
Hallelujah. And he got out of the basket, and cudgelled the parson out of the
house. 96 The Three Little Birds

About a thousand or more years ago, there were in this country nothing
but small kings, and one of them who lived on the Keuterberg was very
fond of hunting. Once on a time when he was riding forth from his
castle with his huntsmen, three girls were watching their cows upon the
mountain, and when they saw the King with all his followers, the eldest
girl pointed to him, and called to the two other girls, “If I do not
get that one, I will have none.” Then the second girl answered from the
other side of the hill, and pointed to the one who was on the King’s
right hand, “Hilloa! hilloa! If I do not get him, I will have no one.”
These, however, were the two ministers. The King heard all this, and
when he had come back from the chase, he caused the three girls to be
brought to him, and asked them what they had said yesterday on the
mountain. This they would not tell him, so the King asked the eldest if
she really would take him for her husband? Then she said, “Yes,” and
the two ministers married the two sisters, for they were all three fair
and beautiful of face, especially the Queen, who had hair like flax. But the two sisters had no children, and once when the King was obliged
to go from home he invited them to come to the Queen in order to cheer
her, for she was about to bear a child. She had a little boy who
brought a bright red star into the world with him. Then the two sisters
said to each other that they would throw the beautiful boy into the
water. When they had thrown him in (I believe it was into the Weser) a
little bird flew up into the air, which sang,

“To thy death art thou sped,
Until God’s word be said. In the white lily bloom,
Brave boy, is thy tomb.”


When the two heard that, they were frightened to death, and ran away in
great haste. When the King came home they told him that the Queen had
been delivered of a dog. Then the King said, “What God does, is well
done!” But a fisherman who dwelt near the water fished the little boy
out again while he was still alive, and as his wife had no children,
they reared him. When a year had gone by, the King again went away, and
the Queen had another little boy, whom the false sisters likewise took
and threw into the water. Then up flew a little bird again and sang,

“To thy death art thou sped,
Until God’s word be said. In the white lily bloom,
Brave boy, is thy tomb.”


And when the King came back, they told him that the Queen had once more
given birth to a dog, and he again said, “What God does, is well done.”
The fisherman, however, fished this one also out of the water, and
reared him. Then the King again journeyed forth, and the Queen had a little girl,
whom also the false sisters threw into the water. Then again a little
bird flew up on high and sang,

“To thy death art thou sped
Until God’s word be said. In the white lily bloom,
Bonny girl, is thy tomb.”


And when the King came home they told him that the Queen had been
delivered of a cat. Then the King grew angry, and ordered his wife to
be cast into prison, and therein was she shut up for many long years. In the meantime the children had grown up. Then eldest once went out
with some other boys to fish, but the other boys would not have him
with them, and said, “Go thy way, foundling.”

Hereupon he was much troubled, and asked the old fisherman if that was
true? The fisherman told him that once when he was fishing he had drawn
him out of the water.