Then said the shoemaker, “I
will show mercy and give thee bread once more, but thou shalt not have
it for nothing, I shall put out thy other eye for it.” And now the
tailor felt how thoughtless his life had been, prayed to God for
forgiveness, and said, “Do what thou wilt, I will bear what I must, but
remember that our Lord God does not always look on passively, and that
an hour will come when the evil deed which thou hast done to me, and
which I have not deserved of thee, will be requited. When times were
good with me, I shared what I had with thee. My trade is of that kind
that each stitch must always be exactly like the other. If I no longer
have my eyes and can sew no more I must go a-begging. At any rate do
not leave me here alone when I am blind, or I shall die of hunger.” The
shoemaker, however, who had driven God out of his heart, took the knife
and put out his left eye. Then he gave him a bit of bread to eat, held
out a stick to him, and drew him on behind him. When the sun went down, they got out of the forest, and before them in
the open country stood the gallows. Thither the shoemaker guided the
blind tailor, and then left him alone and went his way. Weariness,
pain, and hunger made the wretched man fall asleep, and he slept the
whole night. When day dawned he awoke, but knew not where he lay. Two
poor sinners were hanging on the gallows, and a crow sat on the head of
each of them. Then one of the men who had been hanged began to speak,
and said, “Brother, art thou awake?” “Yes, I am awake,” answered the
second. “Then I will tell thee something,” said the first; “the dew
which this night has fallen down over us from the gallows, gives every
one who washes himself with it his eyes again. If blind people did but
know this, how many would regain their sight who do not believe that to
be possible.”

When the tailor heard that, he took his pocket-handkerchief, pressed it
on the grass, and when it was moist with dew, washed the sockets of his
eyes with it. Immediately was fulfilled what the man on the gallows had
said, and a couple of healthy new eyes filled the sockets. It was not
long before the tailor saw the sun rise behind the mountains; in the
plain before him lay the great royal city with its magnificent gates
and hundred towers, and the golden balls and crosses which were on the
spires began to shine. He could distinguish every leaf on the trees,
saw the birds which flew past, and the midges which danced in the air. He took a needle out of his pocket, and as he could thread it as well
as ever he had done, his heart danced with delight. He threw himself on
his knees, thanked God for the mercy he had shown him, and said his
morning prayer. He did not forget also to pray for the poor sinners who
were hanging there swinging against each other in the wind like the
pendulums of clocks. Then he took his bundle on his back and soon
forgot the pain of heart he had endured, and went on his way singing
and whistling. The first thing he met was a brown foal running about the fields at
large. He caught it by the mane, and wanted to spring on it and ride
into the town. The foal, however, begged to be set free. “I am still
too young,” it said, “even a light tailor such as thou art would break
my back in two let me go till I have grown strong. A time may perhaps
come when I may reward thee for it.” “Run off,” said the tailor, “I see
thou art still a giddy thing.” He gave it a touch with a switch over
its back, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy, leapt over
hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open country. But the little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. “The sun
to be sure fills my eyes,” said he, “but the bread does not fill my
mouth. The first thing that comes across me and is even half edible
will have to suffer for it.” In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly
over the meadow towards him. “Halt, halt!” cried the tailor, and seized
him by the leg. “I don’t know if thou art good to eat or not, but my
hunger leaves me no great choice. I must cut thy head off, and roast
thee.” “Don’t do that,” replied the stork; “I am a sacred bird which
brings mankind great profit, and no one does me an injury. Leave me my
life, and I may do thee good in some other way.” “Well, be off, Cousin
Longlegs,” said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang
down, and flew gently away. “What’s to be the end of this?” said the tailor to himself at last, “my
hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost.” At this moment he saw a couple
of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards him. “You
come just at the right moment,” said he, and laid hold of one of them
and was about to wring its neck. On this an old duck which was hidden
among the reeds, began to scream loudly, and swam to him with open
beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear children. “Canst thou
not imagine,” said she, “how thy mother would mourn if any one wanted
to carry thee off, and give thee thy finishing stroke?” “Only be
quiet,” said the good-tempered tailor, “thou shalt keep thy children,”
and put the prisoner back into the water. When he turned round, he was standing in front of an old tree which was
partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it. “There I
shall at once find the reward of my good deed,” said the tailor, “the
honey will refresh me.” But the Queen-bee came out, threatened him and
said, “If thou touchest my people, and destroyest my nest, our stings
shall pierce thy skin like ten thousand red-hot needles. But if thou
wilt leave us in peace and go thy way, we will do thee a service for it
another time.”

The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. “Three
dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner!” He dragged
himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town, and as it
was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn, and
he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied he
said, “Now I will get to work.” He went round the town, sought a
master, and soon found a good situation. As, however, he had thoroughly
learnt his trade, it was not long before he became famous, and every
one wanted to have his new coat made by the little tailor, whose
importance increased daily. “I can go no further in skill,” said he,
“and yet things improve every day.” At last the King appointed him
court-tailor. But how things do happen in the world! On the very same day his former
comrade the shoemaker also became court-shoemaker. When the latter
caught sight of the tailor, and saw that he had once more two healthy
eyes, his conscience troubled him. “Before he takes revenge on me,”
thought he to himself, “I must dig a pit for him.” He, however, who
digs a pit for another, falls into it himself.