So down he went, and when lie found them all crying and lamenting in a heart-breaking manner, each one louder than the other, he asked: ‘What misfortune can possibly have happened?’
When she saw the pick-axe just above her head, Clever Elsa burst into tears.
‘Alas, dear Hans!’ said Elsa, ‘if we marry and have a child, and we send it to draw beer when it is big enough, it may be killed if that pickaxe left hanging there were to fall on its head. Have we not cause to lament?’
‘Well,’ said Hans, ‘more wits than this I do not need; and as you are such a Clever Elsa I will have you for my wife.’
He took her by the hand, led her upstairs, and they celebrated the marriage.
When they had been married for a while, Hans said: ‘Wife, I am going to work to earn some money; do you go into the fields and cut the corn, so that we may have some bread.’
‘Yes, my dear Hans; I will go at once.’
When Hans had gone out, she made some good broth and took it into the field with her.
When she got there, she said to herself: ‘What shall I do, reap first, or eat first? I will eat first.’
So she finished up the bowl of broth, which she found very satisfying, so she said again: ‘Which shall I do, sleep first, or reap first? I will sleep first.’ So she lay down among the corn and went to sleep.
Hans had been home a long time, and no Elsa came, so he said: ‘What a Clever Elsa I have. She is so industrious, she does not even come home to eat.’
But as she still did not come, and it was getting dusk, Hans went out to see how much corn she had cut. He found that she had not cut any at all, and that she was lying there fast asleep. Hans hurried home to fetch a fowler’s net with little bells on it, and this he hung around her without waking her. Then he ran home, shut the house door, and sat down to work.
At last, when it was quite dark, Clever Elsa woke up, and when she got up there was such a jangling, and the bells jingled at every step she took. She was terribly frightened, and wondered whether she really was Clever Elsa or not, and said: ‘Is it me. or is it not me?’
But she did not know what to answer, and stood for a time doubtful. At last she thought: ‘I will go home, and ask if it is me, or if it is not me; they will he sure to know.’
She ran to the house, but found the door locked; so she knocked at the window, and cried: ‘Hans, is Elsa at home?’
‘Yes,’ answered Hans, ‘she is!’
Then she started and cried: ‘Alas! then it is not me,’ and she went to another door; but when the people heard the jingling of the bells, they would not open the door, and nowhere would they take her in.
So she ran away out. of the village, and was never seen again.
The Dog and the Sparrow
There was once a sheep-dog who had not got a kind master, but one who left him to suffer from hunger. When he could bear it no longer, he went sadly away. On the road he met a Sparrow, who said, ‘Brother Dog, why are you so sad?’
on the road he met a sparrow.
The Dog answered, ‘Because I am hungry and I have nothing to eat.’
‘Then,’ said the Sparrow, ‘Brother Dog, come with me to the town, and I will satisfy your hunger.’
So they went to the town together, and when they came to a butcher’s shop, the Sparrow said to the Dog, ‘Stay where you are out there and I will peck down a piece of meat.’ He perched upon, the stall, and looked about to see that he was not noticed; then, he pecked, pulled, and pushed, a piece of. meat lying near the edge, till at last it fell to the ground. The Dog seized it and. ran off with it to a corner, where he devoured it. Then the Sparrow said to him, ‘Now come with me to another shop, and I will pull down another piece so that vou may have enough.’
When the Dog had gobbled up the second piece of meat, the Sparrow said, ‘Brother Dog, have you had enough?’
‘Yes, I have had enough meat,’ replied the Dog; ‘but I haven’t had any bread.’
‘Oh, you shall have some bread too,’ said the Sparrow. ‘Come with, me.’ And then he led him to a baker’s shop, where he pecked at a couple of rolls till they fell down. Then, as the Dog still wanted more, he took him to another shop where he pulled down some more bread.
When that was consumed, the Sparrow said, ‘Brother Dog, is your hunger satisfied?’
‘Yes,’ he answered; ‘now let us go and walk about outside the town for a bit.’
So they both went out on to the high-road. Now it was very warm weather, and when they had walked a little way the Dog said, ‘I am tired, and I want to go to sleep.’
‘Oh, by all means,’ answered the Sparrow; ‘I will sit upon this branch in the meantime.’
So the Dog lay down upon the road and fell fast asleep. While he lay there sleeping, a Carter came along driving a wagon with three horses. The wagon was laden with two casks of wine. The Sparrow saw that he was not going to turn aside, but was going on in the track in which the Dog lay, and he called out, ‘Carter, don’t do it, or I will ruin you!’
But the Carter grumbled to himself, ‘You won’t ruin me,’ cracked his whip, and drove the wheels of his wagon right over the Dog and killed him.
The Sparrow cried out after him, ‘Carter, you have killed my brother Dog; it will cost you your wagon and your team.’
‘My wagon and my team indeed, what harm can you do me?’ asked the Carter, as he drove on. The Sparrow crept under the tarpaulin and pecked at the bunghole of one of the casks till the bung came out, and all the wine trickled away without the Carter’s being aware of it. When he looked round and saw the wine dripping from the wagon, he examined the casks and found that one was empty.
‘Alas, poor man that I am!’ he cried.
‘Not poor enough yet,’ said the Sparrow, as he flew on to the head of one of the horses and pecked out its eyes. When the Carter saw what he was doing, he seized his chopper to throw it at the Sparrow; but the bird flew away, and the chopper hit the horse on the head, and he dropped down dead.
‘Alas, poor man that I am!’ he cried.
‘Not poor enough yet,’ said the Sparrow. As the Carter drove on with his two horses, the Sparrow again crept under the tarpaulin and pecked the bung out of the second cask, so that all the wine ran out.
When the Carter perceived it, he cried again, ‘Alas, poor man that I am!’
But the Sparrow answered, ‘Not poor enough yet’; and he seated himself on the head of the second horse and pecked its eyes out. The Carter ran up with his big chopper and struck at him; but the Sparrow flew away, and the blow hit the horse and killed it.
‘Alas, poor man that I am!’ cried the Carter.
‘Not poor enough yet,’ said the Sparrow, as he perched on the head of the third horse and pecked out its eyes. In his rage, the Carter struck out at the Sparrow with his chopper without taking aim, missed the Sparrow, but hit his last horse on the head, and it fell down dead.
‘Alas, poor man that I am!’
‘Not poor enough yet,’ said the Sparrow. ‘Now, I will bring poverty to your home’; and he flew away.
The Carter had to leave his wagon standing, and lie went home Ml of rage and fury.
‘Ah!’ he said to his wife, ‘what misfortunes I have had to-day; the wine has all run out of the casks, and my three horses are dead.’
‘Alas! husband,’ she answered, ‘whatever kind of evil bird is this which has come into our house. He has assembled ail the birds in the world, and they have settled on our maize and they are eating it clean up.’
He went up into the loft, where thousands and thousands of birds were sitting on the floor. They had eaten up all the maize, and the Sparrow sat in the middle of them.
Then the Carter cried out, ‘Alas, poor man that I am!’
‘Not poor enough,’ answered the Sparrow, ‘Carter, it will cost you your life yet’; and he flew away.
Now the Carter, having lost all that he possessed, went downstairs and sat down beside the stove, very angry and ill-tem
pered. Rut the Sparrow sat. outside the window and cried, ‘Carter, it will cost you your life’
The Carter seized his chopper and threw it at the Sparrow, but it only smashed the window and did not hit the bird.
Then the Sparrow hopped in and perched on the stove, and cried, ‘Carter, it will cost you your life.’
The Carter, mad, and blind with rage, smashed the stove to atoms, but the Sparrow fluttered hither and thither till all the furniture,—the little looking-glass, the bench, the table,—and at last the very walls of his house were destroyed, but without ever hitting the Sparrow. At last he caught it in his hand.
‘Then,’ said his wife, ‘shall I kill it?’
‘No,’ he cried; ‘that would be too good for it; it shall die a much worse death. I will swallow it.’ And he took it and gulped it down whole.
But the bird began to flutter about in his inside, and at last fluttered up into the man’s mouth. He stretched out his head and cried, ‘Carter, it will cost you your life yet.’
The Carter handed his chopper to his wife and said, ‘Wife, kill the bird in my mouth.’ The woman hit out, but she aimed badly and hit the Carter on the head, and down he fell, dead.
The Sparrow, however, flew out and right away.
The Twelve
Dancing Princesses
There was once a king who had twelve daughters, each more beautiful than the other. They slept together in a hall where their beds stood close to one another; and at night, when they had gone to bed, the King locked the door and bolted it. But when he unlocked it in the morning, he noticed that their shoes had been danced to pieces, and nobody could explain how it happened. So the King sent out a proclamation saying that any one who could discover where the Princesses did their night’s dancing should choose one of them to be his wife and should reign after his death; but whoever presented himself, and failed to make the discovery after three days and nights, was to forfeit his life.
A Prince soon presented himself and offered to take the risk. He was well received, and at night was taken into a room adjoining the hall where the Princesses slept, His bed was made up there, and he was to watch and see where they went to dance; so that they could not do anything, or go anywhere else, the door of his room was left open too. But the eyes of the King’s son grew heavy, and he fell asleep. When he woke up in the morning all the twelve had been dancing, for the soles of their shoes were full of holes. The second, and third evenings passed with the same results, and then the Prince found no mercy, and his head was cut off. Many others came after him and offered to take the risk, but they all had to lose their lives.
Now it happened that a poor Soldier, who had been wounded and could no longer serve, found himself on the road to the town where the King lived. There he fell in with an old woman who asked him where he intended to go.
‘I really don’t know, myself,’ he said; and added, In fun, ‘I should like to discover where the King’s daughters dance their shoes into holes, and after that to become King.’
‘That is not so difficult,’ said the old woman. ‘You must not drink the wine which will be brought to you in the evening, but must pretend to be fast asleep.’ Whereupon she gave him a short cloak, saying: ‘When you wear this you will be invisible, and then you can slip out after the Twelve Princesses.’
As soon as the Soldier heard this good advice he took it up seriously, plucked up courage, appeared before the King, and offered himself as suitor. He was as well received as the others, and was dressed in royal garments.
In the evening, when bed-time came, he was conducted to the ante-room. As he was about to go to bed the eldest Princess appeared, bringing him a cup of wine; but he had fastened a sponge under his chin and let the wine run down into it, so that he did not drink one drop. Then he lay down, and when he had been quiet a little while he began to snore as though in the deepest sleep.
The Twelve Princesses heard him, and laughed. The eldest said: ‘He, too, must forfeit his life.’
Then they got up, opened cupboards, chests, and cases, and brought out their beautiful dresses. They decked themselves before the glass, skipping about and revelling in the prospect of the dance. Only the youngest sister said: ‘I don’t know what it is. You may rejoice, but I feel so strange; a misfortune is certainly hanging over us.’
‘You are a little goose,’ answered the eldest; ‘you are always frightened. Have you forgotten how many Princes have come here in vain? Why, I need not have given the Soldier a sleeping draught at all; the blockhead would never have awakened.’
When they were all ready they looked at the Soldier; but his eyes were shut and he did not stir. So they thought they would soon be quite safe. Then the eldest went up to one of the beds and knocked on it; it sank into the earth, and they descended through the opening, one after another, the eldest first.
The Soldier, who had noticed everything, did not hesitate long, but threw on his cloak and went down behind the youngest. Half-way down he trod on her dress. She was frightened, and said: ‘What was that? who is holding on to my dress?’
‘Don’t be so foolish. You must have caught on a nail,’ said the eldest. Then they went right down, and when they got quite underground, they stood in a marvellously beautiful avenue of trees; all the leaves were silver, and glittered and shone.
The Soldier thought, ‘I must take away some token with me.’ And as he broke off a twig, a sharp crack came from the tree.
The youngest cried out, ‘All is not well; did you hear that sound?’
‘Those are triumphal salutes, because we shall soon have released our Princes,’ said the eldest.
Next they came to an avenue where all the leaves were of gold, and, at last, into a third, where they were of shining diamonds. From both these he broke off a twig, and there was a crack each time which made the youngest Princess start with terror; but the eldest maintained that the sounds were only triumphal salutes. They went on faster, and came to a great lake. Close to the bank lay twelve little boats, and in every boat sat a handsome Prince. They had expected the Twelve Princesses, and each took one with him; but the Soldier seated himself by the youngest.
Then said the Prince, ‘I don’t know why, but the boat Is much heavier to-day, and I am obliged to row with all my strength to get it along.’
‘I wonder why it is,’ said the youngest, ‘unless, perhaps, it is the hot weather; it is strangely hot.’
On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid brightly-lighted castle, from which came the sound of the joyous music of trumpets and drums. They rowed across, and every Prince danced with his love; and the Soldier danced too, unseen. If one of the Princesses held a cup of wine he drank out of it, so that it was empty when she lifted it to her lips. This frightened the youngest one, but the eldest always silenced her. They danced till three next morning, when their shoes were danced into holes, and they were obliged to stop. The Princes took them back across the lake, and this time the Soldier took his seat beside the eldest. On the bank they said farewell to their Princes, and promised to come again the next night. When they got to the steps, the Soldier ran on ahead, lay down in bed, and when the twelve came lagging by, slowly and wearily, he began to snore again, very loud, so that they said, ‘We are quite safe as far as he is concerned.’ Then they took off their beautiful dresses, put them away, placed the worn-out shoes under their beds, and lay down.
The next morning the Soldier determined to say nothing, but to see the wonderful doings again. So he went with them the second and third nights. Everything was just the same as the first time, and they danced each time till their shoes were in holes; but the third time the Soldier took away a wine-cup as a token.
When the appointed hour came for his answer, he took the three twigs and the cup with him and went before the King. The Twelve Princesses stood behind the door listening to hear what he would say. When the King put the question, ‘Where did my daughters dance their shoes to pieces in the night?’ he answered: ‘With twelve Princes
in an underground castle.’ Then he produced the tokens.
On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid brightly-lighted Castle.
The King sent for his daughters and asked them whether the Soldier had spoken the truth. As they saw that they were betrayed, and would gain nothing by lies, they were obliged to admit all. Thereupon the King asked the Soldier which one he would choose as his wife. He answered: ‘I am no longer young, give me the eldest.’
So the wedding was celebrated that very day, and the kingdom was promised to him on the King’s death. But for every night which the Princes had spent in dancing with the Princesses a day was added to their time of enchantment.
The Fisherman and his Wife
There was once a Fisherman, who lived with his Wife in a miserable little hovel close to the sea.
He went to fish every day, and he fished and fished, and at last one day, as he was sitting looking deep down into the shining water, he felt something on his fine. When he hauled it up there was a great Flounder on the end of the line. The Flounder said to him, ‘Listen, Fisherman, I beg you not to kill me: I am no common Flounder, I am an enchanted prince! What good will it do you to kill me? I shan’t be good to eat; put me back into the water, and leave me to swim about.’
‘Ho! ho!’ said the Fisherman, ‘you need not make so many words about it. I am quite ready to put back a Flounder that can talk.’ And so saying, he put back the Flounder into the shining water, and it sank down to the bottom, leaving a streak of blood behind it.
Then the Fisherman got up and went back to his Wife in the hovel. ‘Husband,’ she said, ‘hast thou caught nothing to-day?’
‘No,’ said the Man; ‘all I caught was one Flounder, and he said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go swim again.’
‘Didst thou not wish for anything then?’ asked the Good-wife.