Then said the knight, “Two-eyes, what shall I give thee for it?”
“Alas!” answered Two-eyes, “I suffer from hunger and thirst, grief and
want, from early morning till late night; if you would take me with
you, and deliver me from these things, I should be happy.” So the
knight lifted Two-eyes on to his horse, and took her home with him to
his father’s castle, and there he gave her beautiful clothes, and meat
and drink to her heart’s content, and as he loved her so much he
married her, and the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing. When
Two-eyes was thus carried away by the handsome knight, her two sisters
grudged her good fortune in downright earnest. “The wonderful tree,
however, still remains with us,” thought they, “and even if we can
gather no fruit from it, still every one will stand still and look at
it, and come to us and admire it. Who knows what good things may be in
store for us?” But next morning, the tree had vanished, and all their
hopes were at an end. And when Two-eyes looked out of the window of her
own little room, to her great delight it was standing in front of it,
and so it had followed her. Two-eyes lived a long time in happiness. Once two poor women came to
her in her castle, and begged for alms. She looked in their faces, and
recognized her sisters, One-eye, and Three-eyes, who had fallen into
such poverty that they had to wander about and beg their bread from
door to door. Two-eyes, however, made them welcome, and was kind to
them, and took care of them, so that they both with all their hearts
repented the evil that they had done their sister in their youth. 131 Fair Katrinelje and Pif-Paf-Poltrie

“Good-day, Father Hollenthe.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be
allowed to have your daughter?” “Oh, yes, if Mother Malcho (Milch-cow),
Brother High-and-Mighty, Sister Käsetraut, and fair Katrinelje are
willing, you can have her.”

“Where is Mother Malcho, then?” “She is in the cow-house, milking the
cow.”

“Good-day, Mother Malcho.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be
allowed to have your daughter?” “Oh, yes, if Father Hollenthe, Brother
High-and-Mighty, Sister Käsetraut, and fair Katrinelje are willing, you
can have her.” “Where is Brother High-and-Mighty, then?” “He is in the
room chopping some wood.” “Good-day, Brother High-and-Mighty.” “Many
thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be allowed to have your sister?” “Oh,
yes, if Father Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Sister Käsetraut, and fair
Katrinelje are willing, you can have her.” “Where is Sister Käsetraut,
then?” “She is in the garden cutting cabbages.” “Good-day, sister
Käsetraut.” “Many thanks, Pif-paf-poltrie.” “May I be allowed to have
your sister?” “Oh, yes, if Father Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Brother
High-and-Mighty, and fair Katrinelje are willing, you may have her.”
“Where is fair Katrinelje, then?” “She is in the room counting out her
farthings.” “Good day, fair Katrinelje.” “Many thanks,
Pif-paf-poltrie.” “Wilt thou be my bride?” “Oh, yes, if Father
Hollenthe, Mother Malcho, Brother High-and-Mighty, and Sister Käsetraut
are willing, I am ready.”

“Fair Katrinelje, how much dowry do hast thou?” “Fourteen farthings in
ready money, three and a half groschen owing to me, half a pound of
dried apples, a handful of fried bread, and a handful of spices. And many other things are mine,
Have I not a dowry fine? “Pif-paf-poltrie, what is thy trade? Art thou a tailor?” “Something
better.” “A shoemaker?” “Something better.” “A husbandman?” “Something
better.” “A joiner?” “Something better.” “A smith?” “Something better.”
“A miller?” “Something better.” “Perhaps a broom-maker?” “Yes, that’s
what I am, is it not a fine trade?”



132 The Fox and the Horse

A peasant had a faithful horse which had grown old and could do no more
work, so his master would no longer give him anything to eat and said,
“I can certainly make no more use of thee, but still I mean well by
thee; if thou provest thyself still strong enough to bring me a lion
here, I will maintain thee, but now take thyself away out of my
stable,” and with that he chased him into the open country. The horse
was sad, and went to the forest to seek a little protection there from
the weather. Then the fox met him and said, “Why dost thou hang thy
head so, and go about all alone?” “Alas,” replied the horse, “avarice
and fidelity do not dwell together in one house. My master has
forgotten what services I have performed for him for so many years, and
because I can no longer plough well, he will give me no more food, and
has driven me out.” “Without giving thee a chance?” asked the fox. “The
chance was a bad one. He said, if I were still strong enough to bring
him a lion, he would keep me, but he well knows that I cannot do that.”
The fox said, “I will help thee, just lay thyself down, stretch thyself
out, as if thou wert dead, and do not stir.” The horse did as the fox
desired, and the fox went to the lion, who had his den not far off, and
said, “A dead horse is lying outside there, just come with me, thou
canst have a rich meal.” The lion went with him, and when they were
both standing by the horse the fox said, “After all, it is not very
comfortable for thee here I tell thee what I will fasten it to thee by
the tail, and then thou canst drag it into thy cave, and devour it in
peace.”

This advice pleased the lion: he lay down, and in order that the fox
might tie the horse fast to him, he kept quite quiet. But the fox tied
the lion’s legs together with the horse’s tail, and twisted and
fastened all so well and so strongly that no strength could break it. When he had finished his work, he tapped the horse on the shoulder and
said, “Pull, white horse, pull.” Then up sprang the horse at once, and
drew the lion away with him. The lion began to roar so that all the
birds in the forest flew out in terror, but the horse let him roar, and
drew him and dragged him over the country to his master’s door. When
the master saw the lion, he was of a better mind, and said to the
horse, “Thou shalt stay with me and fare well,” and he gave him plenty
to eat until he died. 133 The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces

There was once upon a time a King who had twelve daughters, each one
more beautiful than the other. They all slept together in one chamber,
in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when they were
in them the King locked the door, and bolted it. But in the morning
when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were worn out with
dancing, and no one could find out how that had come to pass. Then the
King caused it to be proclaimed that whosoever could discover where
they danced at night, should choose one of them for his wife and be
King after his death, but that whosoever came forward and had not
discovered it within three days and nights, should have forfeited his
life. It was not long before a King’s son presented himself, and
offered to undertake the enterprise.