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“If others have tried it,” said Brother Lustig, “I will try it too.” |
“Leave it alone,” said the host, “it will cost you your neck.” “It won’t kill me at once,” said Brother Lustig, “just give me the key, and some good food and wine.” So the host gave him the key, and food and wine, and with this Brother Lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on the ground, for there was no bed. He soon fell asleep, but during the night was disturbed by a great noise, and when he awoke, he saw nine ugly devils in the room, who had made a circle, and were dancing around him. |
Brother Lustig said, “Well, dance as long as you like, but none of you must come too close.” But the devils pressed continually nearer to him, and almost stepped on his face with their hideous feet. “Stop, you devils’ ghosts,” said he, but they behaved still worse. Then Brother Lustig grew angry, and cried, “Hola! but I will soon make it quiet,” |
and got the leg of a chair and struck out into the midst of them with it. But nine devils against one soldier were still too many, and when he struck those in front of him, the others seized him behind by the hair, and tore it unmercifully. “Devils’ crew,” cried he, “it is getting too bad, but wait. Into my knapsack, all nine of you!” In an instant they were in it, and then he buckled it up and threw it into a corner. After this all was suddenly quiet, and Brother Lustig lay down again, and slept till it was bright day. Then came the inn-keeper, and the nobleman to whom the castle belonged, to see how he had fared; but when they perceived that he was merry and well they were astonished, and asked, “Have the spirits done you no harm, then?” “The reason why they have not,” answered Brother Lustig, “is because I have got the whole nine of them in my knapsack! You may once more inhabit your castle quite tranquilly, none of them will ever haunt it again.” The nobleman thanked him, made him rich presents, and begged him to remain in his service, and he would provide for him as long as he lived. “No,” |
replied Brother Lustig, “I am used to wandering about, I will travel farther.” Then he went away, and entered into a smithy, laid the knapsack, which contained the nine devils on the anvil, and asked the smith and his apprentices to strike it. So they smote with their great hammers with all their strength, and the devils uttered howls which were quite pitiable. When he opened the knapsack after this, eight of them were dead, but one which had been lying in a fold of it, was still alive, slipped out, and went back again to hell. Thereupon Brother Lustig travelled a long time about the world, and those who know them can tell many a story about him, but at last he grew old, and thought of his end, so he went to a hermit who was known to be a pious man, and said to him, “I am tired of wandering about, and want now to behave in such a manner that I shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” The hermit replied, “There are two roads, one is broad and pleasant, and leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough, and leads to heaven.” “I should be a fool,” thought Brother Lustig, “if I were to take the narrow, rough road.” So he set out and took the broad and pleasant road, and at length came to a great black door, which was the door of Hell. Brother Lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out to see who was there. But when he saw Brother Lustig, he was terrified, for he was the very same ninth devil who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had escaped from it with a black eye. So he pushed the bolt in again as quickly as he could, ran to the devil’s lieutenant, and said, “There is a fellow outside with a knapsack, who wants to come in, but as you value your lives don’t allow him to enter, or he will wish the whole of hell into his knapsack. He once gave me a frightful hammering when I was inside it.” So they called out to Brother Lustig that he was to go away again, for he should not get in there! “If they won’t have me here,” thought he, “I will see if I can find a place for myself in heaven, for I must be somewhere.” So he turned about and went onwards until he came to the door of Heaven, where he knocked. St. Peter was sitting hard by as door-keeper. Brother Lustig recognised him at once, and thought, “Here I find an old friend, I shall get on better.” But St. Peter said, “I really believe that thou wantest to come into Heaven.” “Let me in, brother; I must get in somewhere; if they would have taken me into Hell, I should not have come here.” “No,” said St. |
Peter, “thou shalt not enter.” “Then if thou wilt not let me in, take thy knapsack back, for I will have nothing at all from thee.” “Give it here, then,” said St. Peter. Then Brother Lustig gave him the knapsack into Heaven through the bars, and St. Peter took it, and hung it beside his seat. Then said Brother Lustig, “And now I wish myself inside my knapsack,” and in a second he was in it, and in Heaven, and St. Peter was forced to let him stay there. |
82 Gambling Hansel |
Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but gamble, and for that reason people never called him anything but Gambling Hansel, and as he never ceased to gamble, he played away his house and all that he had. Now the very day before his creditors were to take his house from him, came the Lord and St. Peter, and asked him to give them shelter for the night. Then Gambling Hansel said, “For my part, you may stay the night, but I cannot give you a bed or anything to eat.” So the Lord said he was just to take them in, and they themselves would buy something to eat, to which Gambling Hansel made no objection. Thereupon St. Peter gave him three groschen, and said he was to go to the baker’s and fetch some bread. So Gambling Hansel went, but when he reached the house where the other gambling vagabonds were gathered together, they, although they had won all that he had, greeted him clamorously, and said, “Hansel, do come in.” “Oh,” said he, “do you want to win the three groschen too?” On this they would not let him go. So he went in, and played away the three groschen also. Meanwhile St. Peter and the Lord were waiting, and as he was so long in coming, they set out to meet him. When Gambling Hansel came, however, he pretended that the money had fallen into the gutter, and kept raking about in it all the while to find it, but our Lord already knew that he had lost it in play. St. Peter again gave him three groschen, and now he did not allow himself to be led away once more, but fetched them the loaf. Our Lord then inquired if he had no wine, and he said, “Alack, sir, the casks are all empty!” But the Lord said he was to go down into the cellar, for the best wine was still there. For a long time he would not believe this, but at length he said, “Well, I will go down, but I know that there is none there.” When he turned the tap, however, lo and behold, the best of wine ran out! So he took it to them, and the two passed the night there. Early next day our Lord told Gambling Hansel that he might beg three favours. The Lord expected that he would ask to go to Heaven; but Gambling Hansel asked for a pack of cards with which he could win everything, for dice with which he would win everything, and for a tree whereon every kind of fruit would grow, and from which no one who had climbed up, could descend until he bade him do so. The Lord gave him all that he had asked, and departed with St. Peter. |
And now Gambling Hansel at once set about gambling in real earnest, and before long he had gained half the world. Upon this St. Peter said to the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on, he will win, and thou lose, the whole world. We must send Death to him.” When Death appeared, Gambling Hansel had just seated himself at the gaming-table, and Death said, “Hansel, come out a while.” But Gambling Hansel said, “Just wait a little until the game is done, and in the meantime get up into that tree out there, and gather a little fruit that we may have something to munch on our way.” Thereupon Death climbed up, but when he wanted to come down again, he could not, and Gambling Hansel left him up there for seven years, during which time no one died. |
So St. Peter said to the Lord, “Lord, this thing must not go on. People no longer die; we must go ourselves.” And they went themselves, and the Lord commanded Hansel to let Death come down. So Hansel went at once to Death and said to him, “Come down,” and Death took him directly and put an end to him. They went away together and came to the next world, and then Gambling Hansel made straight for the door of Heaven, and knocked at it. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, we will have nothing to do with him! Begone!” So he went to the door of Purgatory, and knocked once more. “Who is there?” “Gambling Hansel.” “Ah, there is quite enough weeping and wailing here without him. We do not want to gamble, just go away again.” Then he went to the door of Hell, and there they let him in. There was, however, no one at home but old Lucifer and the crooked devils who had just been doing their evil work in the world. |
And no sooner was Hansel there than he sat down to gamble again. |
Lucifer, however, had nothing to lose, but his mis-shapen devils, and Gambling Hansel won them from him, as with his cards he could not fail to do. And now he was off again with his crooked devils, and they went to Hohenfuert and pulled up a hop-pole, and with it went to Heaven and began to thrust the pole against it, and Heaven began to crack. So again St. Peter said, “Lord, this thing cannot go on, we must let him in, or he will throw us down from Heaven.” And they let him in. But Gambling Hansel instantly began to play again, and there was such a noise and confusion that there was no hearing what they themselves were saying. Therefore St. Peter once more said, “Lord, this cannot go on, we must throw him down, or he will make all Heaven rebellious.” So they went to him at once, and threw him down, and his soul broke into fragments, and went into the gambling vagabonds who are living this very day. |
83 Hans in Luck |
Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him, “Master, my time is up; now I should be glad to go back home to my mother; give me my wages.” The master answered, “You have served me faithfully and honestly; as the service was so shall the reward be;” and he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on his shoulder, and set out on the way home. |
As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. “Ah!” said Hans quite loud, “what a fine thing it is to ride! There you sit as on a chair; you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and get on, you don’t know how.” |
The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, “Hollo! Hans, why do you go on foot, then?” |
“I must,” answered he, “for I have this lump to carry home; it is true that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it hurts my shoulder.” |
“I will tell you what,” said the rider, “we will exchange: I will give you my horse, and you can give me your lump.” |
“With all my heart,” said Hans, “but I can tell you, you will have to crawl along with it.” |
The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up; then gave him the bridle tight in his hands and said, “If you want to go at a really good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!” |
Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, “Jup! Jup!” |
The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated the field from the highway. The horse would have gone off too if it had not been stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road and driving a cow before him. |
Hans got his limbs together and stood up on his legs again, but he was vexed, and said to the countryman, “It is a poor joke, this riding, especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks and throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one’s neck. Never again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk quietly behind her, and have, over and above, one’s milk, butter and cheese every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a cow.” |
“Well,” said the countryman, “if it would give you so much pleasure, I do not mind giving the cow for the horse.” Hans agreed with the greatest delight; the countryman jumped upon the horse, and rode quickly away. |
Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky bargain. “If only I have a morsel of bread—and that can hardly fail me—I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like; if I am thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. Good heart, what more can I want?” |
When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great content ate up what he had with him—his dinner and supper—and all he had, and with his last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove his cow onwards along the road to his mother’s village. |
As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans found himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross. He felt it very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with thirst. “I can find a cure for this,” thought Hans; “I will milk the cow now and refresh myself with the milk.” He tied her to a withered tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath; but try as he would, not a drop of milk came. And as he set himself to work in a clumsy way, the impatient beast at last gave him such a blow on his head with its hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and for a long time could not think where he was. |
By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig. “What sort of a trick is this?” |
cried he, and helped the good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened. |
The butcher gave him his flask and said, “Take a drink and refresh yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old beast; at the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.” “Well, well,” said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, “who would have thought it? Certainly it is a fine thing when one can kill a beast like that at home; what meat one has! But I do not care much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me. A young pig like that now is the thing to have, it tastes quite different; and then there are the sausages!” |
“Hark ye, Hans,” said the butcher, “out of love for you I will exchange, and will let you have the pig for the cow.” “Heaven repay you for your kindness!” said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was unbound from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in his hand. |
Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as he wished; if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set right. Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine white goose under his arm. They said good morning to each other, and Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such good bargains. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a christening-feast. “Just lift her,” added he, and laid hold of her by the wings; “how heavy she is—she has been fattened up for the last eight weeks. Whoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will have to wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth.” “Yes,” said Hans, as he weighed her in one hand, “she is a good weight, but my pig is no bad one.” |
Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and shook his head. “Look here,” he said at length, “it may not be all right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the Mayor himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear—I fear that you have got hold of it there. They have sent out some people and it would be a bad business if they caught you with the pig; at the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole.” |
The good Hans was terrified. “Goodness!” he said, “help me out of this fix; you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave me your goose.” “I shall risk something at that game,” answered the lad, “but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble.” So he took the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a by-path. |
The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under his arm. “When I think over it properly,” said he to himself, “I have even gained by the exchange; first there is the good roast-meat, then the quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give me dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the beautiful white feathers; I will have my pillow stuffed with them, and then indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking. How glad my mother will be!” |
As he was going through the last village, there stood a scissors-grinder with his barrow; as his wheel whirred he sang— |
“I sharpen scissors and quickly grind, My coat blows out in the wind behind.” |
Hans stood still and looked at him; at last he spoke to him and said, “All’s well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding.” “Yes,” |
answered the scissors-grinder, “the trade has a golden foundation. A real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?” |
“I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.” |
“And the pig?” |
“That I got for a cow.” |
“And the cow?” |
“I took that instead of a horse.” |
“And the horse?” |
“For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.” |
“And the gold?” |
“Well, that was my wages for seven years’ service.” |
“You have known how to look after yourself each time,” said the grinder. “If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle in your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your fortune.” |
“How shall I manage that?” said Hans. “You must be a grinder, as I am; nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds itself. I have one here; it is certainly a little worn, but you need not give me anything for it but your goose; will you do it?” |
“How can you ask?” answered Hans. “I shall be the luckiest fellow on earth; if I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, what need I trouble about any longer?” and he handed him the goose and received the grindstone in exchange. “Now,” said the grinder, as he took up an ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, “here is a strong stone for you into the bargain; you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your old nails. Take it with you and keep it carefully.” |
Hans loaded himself with the stones, and went on with a contented heart; his eyes shone with joy. “I must have been born with a caul,” he cried; “everything I want happens to me just as if I were a Sunday-child.” |
Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once. At last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced to stop every minute; the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully. Then he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to carry them just then. |
He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but in order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down on it, and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed against the stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans saw them with his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having shown him this favour also, and delivered him in so good a way, and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy stones which had been the only things that troubled him. |
“There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I,” he cried out. With a light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was with his mother at home. |
84 Hans Married |
There was once upon a time a young peasant named Hans, whose uncle wanted to find him a rich wife. He therefore seated Hans behind the stove, and had it made very hot. Then he fetched a pot of milk and plenty of white bread, gave him a bright newly-coined farthing in his hand, and said, “Hans, hold that farthing fast, crumble the white bread into the milk, and stay where you are, and do not stir from that spot till I come back.” “Yes,” said Hans, “I will do all that.” Then the wooer put on a pair of old patched trousers, went to a rich peasant’s daughter in the next village, and said, “Won’t you marry my nephew Hans—you will get an honest and sensible man who will suit you?” The covetous father asked, “How is it with regard to his means? Has he bread to break?” “Dear friend,” replied the wooer, “my young nephew has a snug berth, a nice bit of money in hand, and plenty of bread to break, besides he has quite as many patches as I have,” (and as he spoke, he slapped the patches on his trousers, but in that district small pieces of land were called patches also.) “If you will give yourself the trouble to go home with me, you shall see at once that all is as I have said.” Then the miser did not want to lose this good opportunity, and said, “If that is the case, I have nothing further to say against the marriage.” |
So the wedding was celebrated on the appointed day, and when the young wife went out of doors to see the bridegroom’s property, Hans took off his Sunday coat and put on his patched smock-frock and said, “I might spoil my good coat.” Then together they went out and wherever a boundary line came in sight, or fields and meadows were divided from each other, Hans pointed with his finger and then slapped either a large or a small patch on his smock-frock, and said, “That patch is mine, and that too, my dearest, just look at it,” meaning thereby that his wife should not stare at the broad land, but look at his garment, which was his own. |
“Were you indeed at the wedding?” “Yes, indeed I was there, and in full dress. My head-dress was of snow; then the sun came out, and it was melted. My coat was of cobwebs, and I had to pass by some thorns which tore it off me, my shoes were of glass, and I pushed against a stone and they said, “Klink,” and broke in two. |
85 The Gold-Children |
There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a little cottage, and who earned their bread by fishing, and always lived from hand to mouth. But it came to pass one day when the man was sitting by the water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out a fish entirely of gold. As he was looking at the fish, full of astonishment, it began to speak and said, “Hark you, fisherman, if you will throw me back again into the water, I will change your little hut into a splendid castle.” Then the fisherman answered, “Of what use is a castle to me, if I have nothing to eat?” The gold fish continued, “That shall be taken care of, there will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when you open it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of them as you can desire.” “If that be true,” said the man, “then I can well do you a favour.” “Yes,” said the fish, “there is, however, the condition that you shall disclose to no one in the world, whosoever he may be, whence your good luck has come, if you speak but one single word, all will be over.” Then the man threw the wonderful fish back again into the water, and went home. But where his hovel had formerly stood, now stood a great castle. He opened wide his eyes, entered, and saw his wife dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room, and she was quite delighted, and said, “Husband, how has all this come to pass? It suits me very well.” “Yes,” said the man, “it suits me too, but I am frightfully hungry, just give me something to eat.” Said the wife, “But I have got nothing and don’t know where to find anything in this new house.” “There is no need of your knowing,” said the man, “for I see yonder a great cupboard, just unlock it.” When she opened it, there stood cakes, meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect. |
Then the woman cried joyfully, “What more can you want, my dear?” and they sat down, and ate and drank together. When they had had enough, the woman said, “But husband, whence come all these riches?” “Alas,” |
answered he, “do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you anything; if I disclose it to any one, then all our good fortune will fly.” “Very good,” said she, “if I am not to know anything, then I do not want to know anything.” However, she was not in earnest; she never rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful golden fish which he had caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty. And as soon as the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately disappeared, they were once more in the old fisherman’s hut, and the man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish. But fortune would so have it, that he once more drew out the golden fish. “Listen,” said the fish, “if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled meats; only be firm, for your life’s sake don’t reveal from whom you have it, or you will lose it all again!” “I will take good care,” |
answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water. Now at home everything was once more in its former magnificence, and the wife was overjoyed at their good fortune, but curiosity left her no peace, so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come to pass, and how he had managed to secure it. The man kept silence for a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out, and betrayed the secret. In an instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again in their old hut. “Now you have got what you want,” |
said he; “and we can gnaw at a bare bone again.” “Ah,” said the woman, “I had rather not have riches if I am not to know from whom they come, for then I have no peace.” |
The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the gold fish for a third time. “Listen,” said the fish, “I see very well that I am fated to fall into your hands, take me home and cut me into six pieces; give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse and bury two of them in the ground, then they will bring you a blessing.” |
The fisherman took the fish home with him, and did as it had bidden him. It came to pass, however, that from the two pieces that were buried in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the horse had two golden foals, and the fisherman’s wife bore two children who were made entirely of gold. The children grew up, became tall and handsome, and the lilies and horses grew likewise. Then they said, “Father, we want to mount our golden steeds and travel out in the world.” But he answered sorrowfully, “How shall I bear it if you go away, and I know not how it fares with you?” Then they said, “The two golden lilies remain here. By them you can see how it is with us; if they are fresh, then we are in health; if they are withered, we are ill; if they perish, then we are dead.” So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were many people, and when they perceived the gold-children they began to laugh, and jeer. When one of them heard the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a great forest. As he was about to enter it, the people said, It is not safe for you to ride through, the wood is full of robbers who would treat you badly. You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all of gold, and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.’ |
But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, “I must and will ride through it.” Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and his horse with them, so that the gold was no more to be seen, and rode fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together. From one side came cries of, “There is one,” but from the other, “Let him go, ’tis an idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse, what should we gain from him?” |
So the gold-child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell him. One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she existed in the world. And as such a mighty love took possession of him, he went up to her and said, “I love thee with my whole heart, wilt thou be my wife?” He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and said, “Yes, I will be thy wife, and be true to thee my whole life long.” Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when he saw that his daughter’s wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said, “Where is the bridegroom?” They showed him the gold-child, who, however, still wore his bear-skins. Then the father said wrathfully, “A vagabond shall never have my daughter!” and was about to kill him. Then the bride begged as hard as she could, and said, “He is my husband, and I love him with all my heart!” until at last he allowed himself to be appeased. Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter’s husband was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground. |
Then he went back and thought, “What a good thing it was that I restrained my anger! I should have committed a great crime.” But the gold-child dreamed that he rode out to hunt a splendid stag, and when he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, “I must go out hunting.” |
She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, “You might easily meet with a great misfortune,” but he answered, “I must and will go.” |
Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest, and it was not long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when the gold-child looked round him, he was standing before a little house, wherein was a witch. He knocked, and a little old woman came out and asked, “What are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest?” |
“Have you not seen a stag?” “Yes,” answered she, “I know the stag well,” and thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with her, barked at the man violently. “Wilt thou be silent, thou odious toad,” said he, “or I will shoot thee dead.” Then the witch cried out in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately transformed him, so that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him in vain and thought, “That which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so heavily on my heart, has come upon him!” But at home the other brother was standing by the gold-lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. |
“Good heavens!” said he, “my brother has met with some great misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.” Then the father said, “Stay here, if I lose you also, what shall I do?” But he answered, “I must and will go forth!” |
Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and entered the great forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old witch came out of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also, but he did not go near her, and said, “I will shoot you, if you will not bring my brother to life again.” She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to his human shape. But the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw each other again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of the forest, the one home to his bride, and the other to his father. The father then said, “I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for the golden lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again.” Then they lived happily, and all prospered with them until their death. |
86 The Fox and the Geese |
The fox once came to a meadow in which was a flock of fine fat geese, on which he smiled and said, “I come in the nick of time, you are sitting together quite beautifully, so that I can eat you up one after the other.” The geese cackled with terror, sprang up, and began to wail and beg piteously for their lives. But the fox would listen to nothing, and said, “There is no mercy to be had! You must die.” At length one of them took heart and said, “If we poor geese are to yield up our vigorous young lives, show us the only possible favour and allow us one more prayer, that we may not die in our sins, and then we will place ourselves in a row, so that you can always pick yourself out the fattest.” “Yes,” said the fox, “that is reasonable, and a pious request. Pray away, I will wait till you are done.” Then the first began a good long prayer, for ever saying, “Ga! Ga!” and as she would make no end, the second did not wait until her turn came, but began also, “Ga! Ga!” The third and fourth followed her, and soon they were all cackling together. |
When they have done praying, the story shall be continued further, but at present they are still praying without stopping.” |
87 The Poor Man and the Rich Man |
In olden times, when the Lord himself still used to walk about on this earth amongst men, it once happened that he was tired and overtaken by the darkness before he could reach an inn. Now there stood on the road before him two houses facing each other; the one large and beautiful, the other small and poor. The large one belonged to a rich man, and the small one to a poor man. |
Then the Lord thought, “I shall be no burden to the rich man, I will stay the night with him.” When the rich man heard some one knocking at his door, he opened the window and asked the stranger what he wanted. |
The Lord answered, “I only ask for a night’s lodging.” |
Then the rich man looked at the traveler from head to foot, and as the Lord was wearing common clothes, and did not look like one who had much money in his pocket, he shook his head, and said, “No, I cannot take you in, my rooms are full of herbs and seeds; and if I were to lodge everyone who knocked at my door, I might very soon go begging myself. |
Go somewhere else for a lodging,” and with this he shut down the window and left the Lord standing there. |
So the Lord turned his back on the rich man, and went across to the small house and knocked. He had hardly done so when the poor man opened the little door and bade the traveler come in. “Pass the night with me, it is already dark,” said he; “you cannot go any further to-night.” |
This pleased the Lord, and he went in. The poor man’s wife shook hands with him, and welcomed him, and said he was to make himself at home and put up with what they had got; they had not much to offer him, but what they had they would give him with all their hearts. Then she put the potatoes on the fire, and while they were boiling, she milked the goat, that they might have a little milk with them. When the cloth was laid, the Lord sat down with the man and his wife, and he enjoyed their coarse food, for there were happy faces at the table. When they had had supper and it was bed-time, the woman called her husband apart and said, “Hark you, dear husband, let us make up a bed of straw for ourselves to-night, and then the poor traveler can sleep in our bed and have a good rest, for he has been walking the whole day through, and that makes one weary.” “With all my heart,” he answered, “I will go and offer it to him;” and he went to the stranger and invited him, if he had no objection, to sleep in their bed and rest his limbs properly. |
But the Lord was unwilling to take their bed from the two old folks; however, they would not be satisfied, until at length he did it and lay down in their bed, while they themselves lay on some straw on the ground. |
Next morning they got up before daybreak, and made as good a breakfast as they could for the guest. When the sun shone in through the little window, and the Lord had got up, he again ate with them, and then prepared to set out on his journey. |
But as he was standing at the door he turned round and said, “As you are so kind and good, you may wish three things for yourselves and I will grant them.” Then the man said, “What else should I wish for but eternal happiness, and that we two, as long as we live, may be healthy and have every day our daily bread; for the third wish, I do not know what to have.” And the Lord said to him, “Will you wish for a new house instead of this old one?” “Oh, yes,” said the man; “if I can have that, too, I should like it very much.” And the Lord fulfilled his wish, and changed their old house into a new one, again gave them his blessing, and went on. |
The sun was high when the rich man got up and leaned out of his window and saw, on the opposite side of the way, a new clean-looking house with red tiles and bright windows where the old hut used to be. He was very much astonished, and called his wife and said to her, “Tell me, what can have happened? Last night there was a miserable little hut standing there, and to-day there is a beautiful new house. Run over and see how that has come to pass.” |
So his wife went and asked the poor man, and he said to her, “Yesterday evening a traveler came here and asked for a night’s lodging, and this morning when he took leave of us he granted us three wishes—eternal happiness, health during this life and our daily bread as well, and besides this, a beautiful new house instead of our old hut.” |
When the rich man’s wife heard this, she ran back in haste and told her husband how it had happened. The man said, “I could tear myself to pieces! If I had but known that! That traveler came to our house too, and wanted to sleep here, and I sent him away.” “Quick!” said his wife, “get on your horse. You can still catch the man up, and then you must ask to have three wishes granted to you.” |
The rich man followed the good counsel and galloped away on his horse, and soon came up with the Lord. He spoke to him softly and pleasantly, and begged him not to take it amiss that he had not let him in directly; he was looking for the front-door key, and in the meantime the stranger had gone away, if he returned the same way he must come and stay with him. “Yes,” said the Lord; “if I ever come back again, I will do so.” Then the rich man asked if might not wish for three things too, as his neighbor had done? “Yes,” said the Lord, he might, but it would not be to his advantage, and he had better not wish for anything; but the rich man thought that he could easily ask for something which would add to his happiness, if he only knew that it would be granted. |
So the Lord said to him, “Ride home, then, and three wishes which you shall form, shall be fulfilled.” |
The rich man had now gained what he wanted, so he rode home, and began to consider what he should wish for. As he was thus thinking he let the bridle fall, and the horse began to caper about, so that he was continually disturbed in his meditations, and could not collect his thoughts at all. He patted its neck, and said, “Gently, Lisa,” but the horse only began new tricks. Then at last he was angry, and cried quite impatiently, “I wish your neck was broken!” Directly he had said the words, down the horse fell on the ground, and there it lay dead and never moved again. And thus was his first wish fulfilled. As he was miserly by nature, he did not like to leave the harness lying there; so he cut it off, and put it on his back; and now he had to go on foot. “I have still two wishes left,” said he, and comforted himself with that thought. |
And now as he was walking slowly through the sand, and the sun was burning hot at noon-day, he grew quite hot-tempered and angry. The saddle hurt his back, and he had not yet any idea what to wish for. “If I were to wish for all the riches and treasures in the world,” said he to himself, “I should still to think of all kinds of other things later on, I know that, beforehand. But I will manage so that there is nothing at all left me to wish for afterwards.” Then he sighed and said, “Ah, if I were but that Bavarian peasant, who likewise had three wishes granted to him, and knew quite well what to do, and in the first place wished for a great deal of beer, and in the second for as much beer as he was able to drink, and in the third for a barrel of beer into the bargain.” |
Many a time he thought he had found it, but then it seemed to him to be, after all, too little. Then it came into his mind, what an easy life his wife had, for she stayed at home in a cool room and enjoyed herself. This really did vex him, and before he was aware, he said, “I just wish she was sitting there on this saddle, and could not get off it, instead of my having to drag it along on my back.” And as the last word was spoken, the saddle disappeared from his back, and he saw that his second wish had been fulfilled. Then he really did feel warm. He began to run and wanted to be quite alone in his own room at home, to think of something really large for his last wish. But when he arrived there and opened the parlour-door, he saw his wife sitting in the middle of the room on the saddle, crying and complaining, and quite unable to get off it. So he said, “Do bear it, and I will wish for all the riches on earth for thee, only stay where thou art.” She, however, called him a fool, and said, “What good will all the riches on earth do me, if I am to sit on this saddle? Thou hast wished me on it, so thou must help me off.” So whether he would or not, he was forced to let his third wish be that she should be quit of the saddle, and able to get off it, and immediately the wish was fulfilled. So he got nothing by it but vexation, trouble, abuse, and the loss of his horse; but the poor people lived happily, quietly, and piously until their happy death. |
88 The Singing, Springing Lark |
There was once on a time a man who was about to set out on a long journey, and on parting he asked his three daughters what he should bring back with him for them. Whereupon the eldest wished for pearls, the second wished for diamonds, but the third said, “Dear father, I should like a singing, soaring lark.” The father said, “Yes, if I can get it, you shall have it,” kissed all three, and set out. Now when the time had come for him to be on his way home again, he had brought pearls and diamonds for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in vain for a singing, soaring lark for the youngest, and he was very unhappy about it, for she was his favorite child. Then his road lay through a forest, and in the midst of it was a splendid castle, and near the castle stood a tree, but quite on the top of the tree, he saw a singing, soaring lark. “Aha, you come just at the right moment!” he said, quite delighted, and called to his servant to climb up and catch the little creature. But as he approached the tree, a lion leapt from beneath it, shook himself, and roared till the leaves on the trees trembled. “He who tries to steal my singing, soaring lark,” he cried, “will I devour.” Then the man said, “I did not know that the bird belonged to thee. I will make amends for the wrong I have done and ransom myself with a large sum of money, only spare my life.” The lion said, “Nothing can save thee, unless thou wilt promise to give me for mine own what first meets thee on thy return home; and if thou wilt do that, I will grant thee thy life, and thou shalt have the bird for thy daughter, into the bargain.” But the man hesitated and said, “That might be my youngest daughter, she loves me best, and always runs to meet me on my return home.” The servant, however, was terrified and said, “Why should your daughter be the very one to meet you, it might as easily be a cat, or dog?” Then the man allowed himself to be over-persuaded, took the singing, soaring lark, and promised to give the lion whatsoever should first meet him on his return home. |
When he reached home and entered his house, the first who met him was no other than his youngest and dearest daughter, who came running up, kissed and embraced him, and when she saw that he had brought with him a singing, soaring lark, she was beside herself with joy. The father, however, could not rejoice, but began to weep, and said, “My dearest child, I have bought the little bird dear. In return for it, I have been obliged to promise thee to a savage lion, and when he has thee he will tear thee in pieces and devour thee,” and he told her all, just as it had happened, and begged her not to go there, come what might. But she consoled him and said, “Dearest father, indeed your promise must be fulfilled. I will go thither and soften the lion, so that I may return to thee safely.” Next morning she had the road pointed out to her, took leave, and went fearlessly out into the forest. The lion, however, was an enchanted prince and was by day a lion, and all his people were lions with him, but in the night they resumed their natural human shapes. On her arrival she was kindly received and led into the castle. |
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