Then she crept into the iron-stove, and began to weep and
lament, and emptied her whole heart, and said, “Here am I deserted by
the whole world, and yet I am a King’s daughter, and a false
waiting-maid has by force brought me to such a pass that I have been
compelled to put off my royal apparel, and she has taken my place with
my bridegroom, and I have to perform menial service as a goose-girl. If
my mother did but know that, her heart would break.”

The aged King, however, was standing outside by the pipe of the stove,
and was listening to what she said, and heard it. Then he came back
again, and bade her come out of the stove. And royal garments were
placed on her, and it was marvellous how beautiful she was! The aged
King summoned his son, and revealed to him that he had got the false
bride who was only a waiting-maid, but that the true one was standing
there, as the sometime goose-girl. The young King rejoiced with all his
heart when he saw her beauty and youth, and a great feast was made
ready to which all the people and all good friends were invited. At the
head of the table sat the bridegroom with the King’s daughter at one
side of him, and the waiting-maid on the other, but the waiting-maid
was blinded, and did not recognize the princess in her dazzling array. When they had eaten and drunk, and were merry, the aged King asked the
waiting-maid as a riddle, what a person deserved who had behaved in
such and such a way to her master, and at the same time related the
whole story, and asked what sentence such an one merited? Then the
false bride said, “She deserves no better fate than to be stripped
entirely naked, and put in a barrel which is studded inside with
pointed nails, and two white horses should be harnessed to it, which
will drag her along through one street after another, till she is
dead.” “It is thou,” said the aged King, “and thou hast pronounced
thine own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto thee.” And when the
sentence had been carried out, the young King married his true bride,
and both of them reigned over their kingdom in peace and happiness. 90 The Young Giant

Once on a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb, and
did not become any bigger, and during several years did not grow one
hair’s breadth. Once when the father was going out to plough, the
little one said, “Father, I will go out with you.” “Thou wouldst go out
with me?” said the father. “Stay here, thou wilt be of no use out
there, besides thou mightest get lost!” Then Thumbling began to cry,
and for the sake of peace his father put him in his pocket, and took
him with him. When he was outside in the field, he took him out again,
and set him in a freshly-cut furrow. Whilst he was there, a great giant
came over the hill. “Do thou see that great bogie?” said the father,
for he wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him good; “he is
coming to fetch thee.” The giant, however, had scarcely taken two steps
with his long legs before he was in the furrow. He took up little
Thumbling carefully with two fingers, examined him, and without saying
one word went away with him. His father stood by, but could not utter a
sound for terror, and he thought nothing else but that his child was
lost, and that as long as he lived he should never set eyes on him
again. The giant, however, carried him home, suckled him, and Thumbling grew
and became tall and strong after the manner of giants. When two years
had passed, the old giant took him into the forest, wanted to try him,
and said, “Pull up a stick for thyself.” Then the boy was already so
strong that he tore up a young tree out of the earth by the roots. But
the giant thought, “We must do better than that,” took him back again,
and suckled him two years longer. When he tried him, his strength had
increased so much that he could tear an old tree out of the ground. That was still not enough for the giant; he again suckled him for two
years, and when he then went with him into the forest and said, “Now
just tear up a proper stick for me,” the boy tore up the strongest
oak-tree from the earth, so that it split, and that was a mere trifle
to him. “Now that will do,” said the giant, “thou art perfect,” and
took him back to the field from whence he had brought him. His father
was there following the plough. The young giant went up to him, and
said, “Does my father see what a fine man his son has grown into?”

The farmer was alarmed, and said, “No, thou art not my son; I don’t
want thee leave me!” “Truly I am your son; allow me to do your work, I
can plough as well as you, nay better.” “No, no, thou art not my son;
and thou canst not plough go away!” However, as he was afraid of this
great man, he left go of the plough, stepped back and stood at one side
of the piece of land. Then the youth took the plough, and just pressed
it with one hand, but his grasp was so strong that the plough went deep
into the earth. The farmer could not bear to see that, and called to
him, “If thou art determined to plough, thou must not press so hard on
it, that makes bad work.” The youth, however, unharnessed the horses,
and drew the plough himself, saying, “Just go home, father, and bid my
mother make ready a large dish of food, and in the meantime I will go
over the field.” Then the farmer went home, and ordered his wife to
prepare the food; but the youth ploughed the field which was two acres
large, quite alone, and then he harnessed himself to the harrow, and
harrowed the whole of the land, using two harrows at once. When he had
done it, he went into the forest, and pulled up two oak-trees, laid
them across his shoulders, and hung on them one harrow behind and one
before, and also one horse behind and one before, and carried all as if
it had been a bundle of straw, to his parents’ house. When he entered
the yard, his mother did not recognize him, and asked, “Who is that
horrible tall man?” The farmer said, “That is our son.” She said, “No
that cannot be our son, we never had such a tall one, ours was a little
thing.” She called to him, “Go away, we do not want thee!” The youth
was silent, but led his horses to the stable, gave them some oats and
hay, and all that they wanted. When he had done this, he went into the
parlour, sat down on the bench and said, “Mother, now I should like
something to eat, will it soon be ready?” Then she said, “Yes,” and
brought in two immense dishes full of food, which would have been
enough to satisfy herself and her husband for a week. The youth,
however, ate the whole of it himself, and asked if she had nothing more
to set before him. “No,” she replied, “that is all we have.” “But that
was only a taste, I must have more.” She did not dare to oppose him,
and went and put a huge caldron full of food on the fire, and when it
was ready, carried it in. “At length come a few crumbs,” said he, and
ate all there was, but it was still not sufficient to appease his
hunger.