Did I not earn
bread for my father and mother in this dress?” Hereupon his father knew
him again, and begged his pardon, and took him home with him, and then
he related all that had happened to him, and how he had got into a
forest on a high mountain, and the mountain had opened and he had gone
into an enchanted castle, where all was black, and three young
princesses had come to him who were black except a little white on
their faces. And they had told him not to fear, and that he could
deliver them. Then his mother said that might very likely not be a good
thing to do, and that he ought to take a holy-water vessel with him,
and drop some boiling water on their faces. He went back again, and he was in great fear, and he dropped the water
on their faces as they were sleeping, and they all turned half-white. Then all the three princesses sprang up, and said, “Thou accursed dog,
our blood shall cry for vengeance on thee! Now there is no man born in
the world, nor will any ever be born who can set us free! We have still
three brothers who are bound by seven chains they shall tear thee to
pieces.” Then there was a loud shrieking all over the castle, and he
sprang out of the window, and broke his leg, and the castle sank into
the earth again, the mountain shut to again, and no one knew where the
castle had stood. 138 Knoist and his Three Sons

Between Werrel and Soist there lived a man whose name was Knoist, and
he had three sons. One was blind, the other lame, and the third
stark-naked. Once on a time they went into a field, and there they saw
a hare. The blind one shot it, the lame one caught it, the naked one
put it in his pocket. Then they came to a mighty big lake, on which
there were three boats, one sailed, one sank, the third had no bottom
to it. They all three got into the one with no bottom to it. Then they
came to a mighty big forest in which there was a mighty big tree; in
the tree was a mighty big chapel in the chapel was a sexton made of
beech-wood and a box-wood parson, who dealt out holy-water with
cudgels. “How truly happy is that one
Who can from holy water run!”



139 The Maid of Brakel

A girl from Brakel once went to St. Anne’s Chapel at the foot of the
Hinnenberg, and as she wanted to have a husband, and thought there was
no one else in the chapel, she sang,

“Oh, holy Saint Anne! Help me soon to a man. Thou know’st him right well,
By Suttmer gate does he dwell,
His hair it is golden,
Thou know’st him right well.”


The clerk, however, was standing behind the altar and heard that, so he
cried in a very gruff voice, “Thou shalt not have him! Thou shalt not
have him!” The maiden thought that the child Mary who stood by her
mother Anne had called out that to her, and was angry, and cried,
“Fiddle de dee, conceited thing, hold your tongue, and let your mother
speak!”



140 Domestic Servants

“Whither goest thou?” “To Walpe.” “I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so,
together we’ll go.”

“Hast thou a man? What is his name?” “Cham.” “My man Cham, thy man
Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe; so, so, together we’ll go.” “Hast thou
a child; how is he styled?” “Wild.” “My child Wild, thy child Wild; my
man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so, together
we’ll go.” “Hast thou a cradle? How callest thou thy cradle?”
“Hippodadle.” “My cradle Hippodadle, my child Wild, thy child Wild, my
man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe, thou to Walpe, so, so, together
we’ll go.”

“Hast thou also a drudge? what name has thy drudge?”
“From-thy-work-do-not-budge.” “My drudge, From-thy-work-do-not-budge:
my child Wild, thy child Wild; my man Cham, thy man Cham; I to Walpe,
thou to Walpe; so, so, together we’ll go.”



141 The Lambkin and the Little Fish

There were once a little brother and a little sister, who loved each
other with all their hearts. Their own mother was, however, dead, and
they had a step-mother, who was not kind to them, and secretly did
everything she could to hurt them. It so happened that the two were
playing with other children in a meadow before the house, and there was
a pond in the meadow which came up to one side of the house. The
children ran about it, and caught each other, and played at counting
out. “Eneke Beneke, let me live,
And I to thee my bird will give. The little bird, it straw shall seek,
The straw I’ll give to the cow to eat. The pretty cow shall give me milk,
The milk I’ll to the baker take. The baker he shall bake a cake,
The cake I’ll give unto the cat. The cat shall catch some mice for that,
The mice I’ll hang up in the smoke,
And then you’ll see the snow.”


They stood in a circle while they played this, and the one to whom the
word snow fell, had to run away and all the others ran after him and
caught him. As they were running about so merrily the step-mother
watched them from the window, and grew angry. And as she understood
arts of witchcraft she bewitched them both, and changed the little
brother into a fish, and the little sister into a lamb. Then the fish
swam here and there about the pond and was very sad, and the lambkin
walked up and down the meadow, and was miserable, and could not eat or
touch one blade of grass. Thus passed a long time, and then strangers
came as visitors to the castle. The false step-mother thought, “This is
a good opportunity,” and called the cook and said to him, “Go and fetch
the lamb from the meadow and kill it, we have nothing else for the
visitors.” Then the cook went away and got the lamb, and took it into
the kitchen and tied its feet, and all this it bore patiently. When he
had drawn out his knife and was whetting it on the door-step to kill
the lamb, he noticed a little fish swimming backwards and forwards in
the water, in front of the kitchen-sink and looking up at him. This,
however, was the brother, for when the fish saw the cook take the lamb
away, it followed them and swam along the pond to the house; then the
lamb cried down to it,

“Ah, brother, in the pond so deep,
How sad is my poor heart! Even now the cook he whets his knife
To take away my tender life.”


The little fish answered,

“Ah, little sister, up on high
How sad is my poor heart
While in this pond I lie.”


When the cook heard that the lambkin could speak and said such sad
words to the fish down below, he was terrified and thought this could
be no common lamb, but must be bewitched by the wicked woman in the
house. Then said he, “Be easy, I will not kill thee,” and took another
sheep and made it ready for the guests, and conveyed the lambkin to a
good peasant woman, to whom he related all that he had seen and heard. The peasant was, however, the very woman who had been foster-mother to
the little sister, and she suspected at once who the lamb was, and went
with it to a wise woman.