The next day, just as the princess had sat down to dinner, she heard a strange noise, tap-tap, as if somebody was coming up the marble staircase; and soon afterwards something knocked gently at the door, and said,
‘Open the door, my princess dear,
Open the door to thy true love here!
And mind the words that thou and I said
By the fountain cool in the greenwood shade.’
Then the princess ran to the door and opened it, and there she saw the frog, whom she had quite forgotten; she was terribly frightened, and shutting the door as fast as she could, came back to her seat. The king her father asked her what had frightened her. ‘There is a nasty frog,’ said she, ‘at the door, who lifted my ball out of the spring this morning: I promised him that he should live with me here, thinking that he could never get out of the spring; but there he is at the door and wants to come in!’ While she was speaking the frog knocked again at the door, and said,
‘Open the door, my princess dear,
Open the door to thy true love here!
And mind the words that thou and I said
By the fountain cool in the greenwood shade.’
The king said to the young princess, ‘As you have made a promise, you must keep it; so go and let him in.’ She did so, and the frog hopped into the room, and came up close to the table. ‘Pray lift me upon a chair,’ said he to the princess, ‘and let me sit next to you.’ As soon as she had done this, the frog said, ‘Put your plate closer to me that I may eat out of it.’ This she did, and when he had eaten as much as he could, he said, ‘Now I am tired; carry me up stairs and put me into your little bed.’ And the princess took him up in her hand and put him upon the pillow of her own little bed, where he slept all night long. As soon as it was light he jumped up, hopped down stairs, and went out of the house. ‘Now,’ thought the princess, ‘he is gone, and I shall be troubled with him no more.’
But she was mistaken; for when night came again, she heard the same tapping at the door, and when she opened it, the frog came in and slept upon her pillow as before till the morning broke: and the third night he did the same; but when the princess awoke on the following morning, she was astonished to see, instead of the frog, a handsome prince gazing on her with the most beautiful eyes that ever were seen, and standing at the head of her bed.
He told her that he had been enchanted by a malicious fairy, who had changed him into the form of a frog, in which he was fated to remain till some princess should take him out of the spring and let him sleep upon her bed for three nights. ‘You,’ said the prince, ‘have broken this cruel charm, and now I have nothing to wish for but that you should go with me into my father’s kingdom, where I will marry you, and love you as long as you live.’
The young princess, you may be sure, was not long in giving her consent; and as they spoke a splendid carriage drove up with eight beautiful horses decked with plumes of feathers and golden harness, and behind rode the prince’s servant, the faithful Henry, who had bewailed the misfortune of his dear master so long and bitterly that his heart had well nigh burst. Then all set out full of joy for the prince’s kingdom; where they arrived safely, and lived happily a great many years.
The Fox and the Horse
A farmer had a horse that had been an excellent faithful servant to him: but he was now grown too old to work; so the farmer would give him nothing more to eat, and said, ‘I want you no longer, so take yourself off out of my stable; I shall not take you back again until you are stronger than a lion.’ Then he opened the door and turned him adrift.
The poor horse was very melancholy, and wandered up and down in the wood, seeking some little shelter from the cold wind and rain. Presently a fox met him: ‘What’s the matter, my friend?’ said he, ‘why do you hang down your head and look so lonely and woebegone?’ ‘Ah!’ replied the horse, ‘justice and avarice never dwell in one house; my master has forgotten all that I have done for him so many years, and because I can no longer work he has turned me adrift, and says unless I become stronger than a lion he will not take me back again; what chance can I have of that? he knows I have none, or he would not talk so.’
However, the fox bid him be of good cheer, and said, ‘I will help you; lie down there, stretch yourself out quite stiff, and pretend to be dead.’ The horse did as he was told, and the fox went straight to the lion who lived in a cave close by, and said to him, ‘A little way off lies a dead horse; come with me and you may make an excellent meal of his carcase.’ The lion was greatly pleased, and set off immediately; and when they came to the horse, the fox said, ‘You will not be able to eat him comfortably here; I’ll tell you what – I will tie you fast to his tail, and then you can draw him to your den, and eat him at your leisure.’
This advice pleased the lion, so he laid himself down quietly for the fox to make him fast to the horse. But the fox managed to tie his legs together and bound all so hard and fast that with all his strength he could not set himself free. When the work was done, the fox clapped the horse on the shoulder, and said, ‘Jip! Dobbin! Jip!’ Then up he sprang, and moved off, dragging the lion behind him. The beast began to roar and bellow, till all the birds of the wood flew away for fright; but the horse let him sing on, and made his way quietly over the fields to his master’s house.
‘Here he is, master,’ said he, ‘I have got the better of him:’ and when the farmer saw his old servant, his heart relented, and he said, ‘Thou shalt stay in thy stable and be well taken care of.’ And so the poor old horse had plenty to eat, and lived – till he died.
Rumpel-Stilts-Kin
In a certain kingdom once lived a poor miller who had a very beautiful daughter. She was moreover exceedingly shrewd and clever; and the miller was so vain and proud of her, that he one day told the king of the land that his daughter could spin gold out of straw. Now this king was very fond of money; and when he heard the miller’s boast, his avarice was excited, and he ordered the girl to be brought before him. Then he led her to a chamber where there was a great quantity of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel, and said, ‘All this must be spun into gold before morning, as you value your life.’ It was in vain that the poor maiden declared that she could do no such thing, the chamber was locked and she remained alone.
She sat down in one corner of the room and began to lament over her hard fate, when on a sudden the door opened, and a droll-looking little man hobbled in, and said, ‘Good morrow to you, my good lass, what are you weeping for?’ ‘Alas!’ answered she, ‘I must spin this straw into gold, and I know not how.’ ‘What will you give me,’ said the little man, ‘to do it for you?’ ‘My necklace,’ replied the maiden. He took her at her word, and sat himself down to the wheel; round about it went merrily, and presently the work was done and the gold all spun.
When the king came and saw this, he was greatly astonished and pleased; but his heart grew still more greedy of gain, and he shut up the poor miller’s daughter again with a fresh task. Then she knew not what to do, and sat down once more to weep; but the little man presently opened the door, and said, ‘What will you give me to do your task?’ ‘The ring on my finger,’ replied she. So her little friend took the ring, and began to work at the wheel, till by the morning all was finished again.
The king was vastly delighted to see all this glittering treasure; but still he was not satisfied, and took the miller’s daughter into a yet larger room, and said, ‘All this must be spun to-night; and if you succeed, you shall be my queen.’ As soon as she was alone the dwarf came in, and said, ‘What will you give me to spin gold for you this third time?’ ‘I have nothing left,’ said she. ‘Then promise me,’ said the little man, ‘your first little child when you are queen.’ ‘That may never be,’ thought the miller’s daughter; and as she knew no other way to get her task done, she promised him what he asked, and he spun once more the whole heap of gold. The king came in the morning, and finding all he wanted, married her, and so t
he miller’s daughter really became queen.
At the birth of her first little child the queen rejoiced very much, and forgot the little man and her promise; but one day he came into her chamber and reminded her of it. Then she grieved sorely at her misfortune, and offered him all the treasures of the kingdom in exchange; but in vain, till at last her tears softened him, and he said, ‘I will give you three days’ grace, and if during that time you tell me my name, you shall keep your child.’
Now the queen lay awake all night, thinking of all the odd names that she had ever heard, and dispatched messengers all over the land to inquire after new ones. The next day the little man came, and she began with Timothy, Benjamin, Jeremiah, and all the names she could remember; but to all of them he said, ‘That’s not my name.’
The second day she began with all the comical names she could hear of, Bandy-legs, Hunch-back, Crook-shanks, and so on, but the little gentleman still said to every one of them, ‘That’s not my name.’
The third day came back one of the messengers, and said, ‘I can hear of no one other name; but yesterday, as I was climbing a high hill among the trees of the forest where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, I saw a little hut, and before the hut burnt a fire, and round about the fire danced a funny little man upon one leg, and sang
“Merrily the feast I’ll make,
Today I’ll brew, tomorrow bake;
Merrily I’ll dance and sing,
For next day will a stranger bring:
Little does my lady dream
Rumpel-Stilts-Kin is my name!”’
When the queen heard this, she jumped for joy, and as soon as her little visitor came, and said, ‘Now, lady, what is my name?’ ‘Is it John?’ asked she. ‘No!’ ‘Is it Tom?’ ‘No!’
‘Can your name be Rumpel-Stilts-Kin?’
‘Some witch told you that! Some witch told you that!’ cried the little man, and dashed his right foot in a rage so deep into the floor, that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it out. Then he made the best of his way off, while every body laughed at him for having had all his trouble for nothing.
The Goose-Girl
An old queen, whose husband had been dead some years, had a beautiful daughter. When she grew up, she was betrothed to a prince who lived a great way off; and as the time drew near for her to be married, she got ready to set off on her journey to his country. Then the queen her mother packed up a great many costly things: jewels, and gold, and silver; trinkets, fine dresses, and in short every thing that became a royal bride; for she loved her child very dearly: and she gave her a waiting-maid to ride with her, and gave her into the bridegroom’s hands; and each had a horse for the journey. Now the princess’s horse was called Falada, and could speak
When the time came for them to set out, the old queen went into her bed-chamber, and took a little knife, and cut off a lock of her hair, and gave it to her daughter, and said, ‘Take care of it, dear child; for it is a charm that may be of use to you on the road.’ Then they took a sorrowful leave of each other, and the princess put the lock of her mother’s hair into her bosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her bridegroom’s kingdom. One day, as they were riding along by the side of a brook, the princess began to feel very thirsty, and said to her maid, ‘Pray get down and fetch me some water in my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to drink.’ ‘Nay,’ said the maid, ‘if you are thirsty, get down yourself, and lie down by the water and drink; I shall not be your waiting-maid any longer.’ Then she was so thirsty that she got down, and knelt over the little brook, and drank, for she was frightened, and dared not bring out her golden cup; and then she wept, and said, ‘Alas! what will become of me?’ And the lock of hair answered her, and said,
‘Alas! alas! if my mother knew it,
Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.’
But the princess was very humble and meek, so she said nothing to her maid’s ill behaviour, but got upon her horse again.
Then all rode farther on their journey, till the day grew so warm, and the sun so scorching, that the bride began to feel very thirsty again; and at last when they came to a river she forgot her maid’s rude speech, and said, ‘Pray get down and fetch me some water to drink in my golden cup.’ But the maid answered her, and even spoke more haughtily than before, ‘Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting-maid.’ Then the princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse, and lay down, and held her head over the running stream, and cried, and said, ‘What will become of me?’ And the lock of hair answered her again,
‘Alas! alas! if my mother knew it
Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.’
And as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom, and floated away with the water, without her seeing it, she was so frightened. But her maid saw it, and was very glad, for she knew the charm, and saw that the poor bride would be in her power, now that she had lost the hair. So when the bride had done, and would have got upon Falada again, the maid said, ‘I shall ride upon Falada, and you may have my horse instead;’ so she was forced to give up her horse, and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes, and put on her maid’s shabby ones.
At last, as they drew near the end of their journey, this treacherous servant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told any one what had happened. But Falada saw it all, and marked it well. Then the waiting-maid got upon Falada, and the real bride was set upon the other horse and they went on in this way till at last they came to the royal court. There was great joy at their coming, and the prince flew to meet them, and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one who was to be his wife; and she was led up stairs to the royal chamber, but the true princess was told to stay in the court below.
But the old king happened to be looking out of the window, and saw her in the yard below; and as she looked very pretty, and too delicate for a waiting-maid, he went into the royal chamber to ask the bride who it was she had brought with her, that was thus left standing in the court below. ‘I brought her with me for the sake of her company on the road,’ said she; ‘pray give the girl some work to do, that she may not be idle.’ The old king could not for some time think of any work for her to do; but at last he said, ‘I have a lad who takes care of my geese; she may go and help him.’ Now the name of this lad, that the real bride was to help in watching the king’s geese, was Curdken.
Soon after, the false bride said to the prince, ‘Dear husband, pray do me one piece of kindness.’ ‘That I will,’ said the prince. ‘Then tell one of your slaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon, for it was very unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road;’ but the truth was, she was very much afraid lest Falada should speak, and tell all she had done to the princess. She carried her point, and the faithful Falada was killed: but when the true princess heard of it, she wept, and begged the man to nail up Falada’s head against a large dark gate of the city, through which she had to pass every morning and evening, that there she might still see him sometimes. Then the slaughterer said he would do as she wished; and cut off the head, and nailed it fast under the dark gate.
Early the next morning, as she and Curdken went out through the gate, she said sorrowfully,
‘Falada, Falada, there thou art hanging!’
and the head answered,
‘Bride, bride, there thou art ganging!
Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,
Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.’
Then they went out of the city, and drove the geese on. And when she came to the meadow, she sat down upon a bank there, and let down her waving locks of hair, which were all of pure silver; and when Curdken saw it glitter in the sun, he ran up, and would have pulled some of the locks out; but she cried,
‘Blow, breezes, blow!
Let Curdken’s hat go!
Blow, breezes, blow!
Let him af
ter it go!
O’er hills, dales, and rocks,
Away be it whirl’d,
Till the silvery locks
Are all comb’d and curl’d!’
Then there came a wind, so strong that it blew off Curdken’s hat; and away it flew over the hills, and he after it; till, by the time he came back, she had done combing and curling her hair, and put it up again safe. Then he was very angry and sulky, and would not speak to her at all; but they watched the geese until it grew dark in the evening, and then drove them homewards.
The next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor girl looked up at Falada’s head, and cried,
‘Falada, Falada, there thou art hanging!’
and it answered,
‘Bride, bride, there thou art ganging!
Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,
Sadly, sadly her heart would rue it.’
Then she drove on the geese, and sat down again in the meadow, and began to comb out her hair as before; and Curdken ran up to her, and wanted to take hold of it; but she cried out quickly,
‘Blow, breezes, blow!
Let Curdken’s hat go!
Blow, breezes, blow!
Let him after it go!
O’er hills, dales, and rocks,
Away be it whirl’d,
Till the silvery locks
Are all comb’d and curl’d!’
Then the wind came and blew his hat, and off it flew a great way, over the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it; and when he came back, she had done up her hair again, and all was safe. So they watched the geese till it grew dark.