Favorite Folktales From Around the World

by Jane Yolen

  After this story the prince once again made no comment. He merely asked that the third story begin. The three brothers were quite upset by this and as the last brother began his tale he had quite a frown upon his face. But he was still quite determined to make up a story so absurd that the prince could not this time help but doubt its truthfulness. And so he began his tale: “One day as I was wallking along the banks of the river I saw that all the fishermen seemed quite unhappy. I inquired as to why they seemed so sad. They therefore informed me that they had not caught one fish in a week and their families were going hungry as a result. I told them that I would try and help them. So I dove into the water and was immediately transformed into a fish. I swam around until I saw the source of the problem. A giant fish had eaten all the smaller fish and was himself avoiding the fishermen’s nets. When this giant saw me he came toward me and was about to devour me, but I changed back to human form and slashed the fish open with my sword. The fish inside his belly were then able to escape. Many swam right into the waiting nets. When I returned to shore many of the fish were so thankful that I had saved them that they returned with me. When the fishermen saw all these fish jumping onto shore after me they were indeed pleased and rewarded me abundantly.”

  When this story was finished the prince did not doubt a word of it. The three brothers were quite upset, but at least they knew that they would not doubt the words of the prince. And so the prince began his tale: “I am a prince of great wealth and property. I am on the road in search of three slaves who have escaped from me. I have searched high and low for them as they were very valuable property. I was about to give up the search when I met you three fellows. But now my search is ended because I have found my missing slaves, because you gentlemen are they.”

  When the brothers heard these words they were shocked. If they agreed to the prince’s story then they were admitting that they were his slaves, but if they doubted what he said then they lost the bet and became his slaves anyway. The brothers were so upset by the cleverness of the prince that they said not a word. The passer-by who was judging the contest nevertheless declared that the prince had won the wager.

  The prince did not make slaves of these men but instead allowed them to return to their village with the promise that they would never tell tall tales again. And the three brothers were thereafter known throughout the land for their honesty and truthfulness.

  CATHERINE, SLY COUNTRY LASS

  Italy

  One day a farmer hoeing his vineyard struck something hard. He bent over and saw that he had unearthed a fine mortar. He picked it up, rubbed the dirt off, and found the object to be solid gold.

  “Only a king could own something like this,” he said. “I’ll take it to my king, who will most likely give me a handsome present in return!”

  At home he found his daughter Catherine waiting for him, and he showed her the mortar, announcing he would present it to the king. Catherine said, “Beyond all doubt, it’s as lovely as lovely can be. But if you take it to the king he’ll find fault with it, since something is missing, and you’ll even end up paying for it.”

  “And just what is missing? What could even a king find wrong with it, simpleton?”

  “You just wait; the king will say:

  The mortar is big and beautiful,

  But where, you dummy, is the pestle?

  The farmer shrugged his shoulders. “The idea of a king talking like that! Do you think he’s an ignoramus like you?”

  He tucked the mortar under his arm and marched straight to the king’s palace. The guards weren’t going to let him in, but he told them he was bringing a wonderful gift, so they took him to His Majesty. “Sacred Crown,” began the farmer, “in my vineyard I found this solid gold mortar, and I said to myself that the only place fit to display it was your palace. Therefore I am giving it to you, if you will have it.”

  The king took the mortar and turned it round and round, running his eye over every inch of it. Then he shook his head and spoke:

  The mortar is big and beautiful,

  But where is the pestle?

  Catherine’s words exactly, except that the king didn’t call him a dummy, since kings are well-bred persons. The farmer slapped his brow and couldn’t help but exclaim, “Word for word! She guessed it!”

  “Who guessed what?” asked the king.

  “I beg your pardon,” said the farmer. “My daughter told me the king would say just those words, and I refused to believe her.”

  “This daughter of yours,” said the king, “must be a very clever girl. Let’s see just how clever. Take her this flax and tell her to make me shirts for a whole regiment of soldiers. But tell her to do it quickly, since I need the shirts right now.”

  The farmer was stunned. But you don’t argue with a king, so he picked up the bundle (which contained only a few measly strands of flax), bowed to the king, and set out for home, leaving the mortar without receiving a word of thanks, much less anything else.

  “My daughter,” he said to Catherine, “you are really in for it now.” And he told her what the king had ordered.

  “You get upset over nothing,” replied Catherine. “Give me that bundle.” She took the flax and shook it. As you know, there are always scalings in flax, even if it has been carded by an expert. A few scalings dropped on the floor, so tiny you could scarcely see them. Catherine gathered them up and said to her father, “Here. Go right back to the king and tell him for me that I will make him the shirts. But since I have no loom to weave the cloth, tell him to have one made for me out of this handful of scalings, and his order will be carried out to the letter.”

  The farmer didn’t have the nerve to go back to the king, especially with that message; but Catherine nagged him until he finally agreed.

  Learning how cunning Catherine was, the king was now eager to see her with her own eyes. He said, “That daughter of yours is a clever girl! Send her to the palace, so that I’ll have the pleasure of chatting with her. But mind that she comes to me neither naked nor clothed, on a stomach neither full nor empty, neither in the daytime nor at night, neither on foot nor on horseback. She is to obey me in every single detail, or both your head and hers will roll.”

  The farmer arrived home in the lowest of spirits. But his daughter merrily said, “I know how, Daddy. Just bring me a fishing net.”

  In the morning before daybreak, Catherine rose and draped herself with the fishing net (that way she was neither naked nor clothed), ate a lupin (that way her stomach was neither empty nor full), led out the nanny goat and straddled it, with one foot dragging the ground and the other in the air (that way she was neither on foot nor on horseback), and reached the palace just as the sky grew lighter (it was neither day nor night). Taking her for a madwoman in that outlandish get-up, the guards barred the way; but on learning that she was just carrying out the sovereign’s order, they escorted her to the royal chambers.

  “Majesty, I am here in compliance with your order.”

  The king split his sides laughing, and said, “Clever Catherine! You’re just the girl I was looking for. I am now going to marry you and make you queen. But on one condition, remember: you must never, never poke your nose into my business.” (The king had realized that Catherine was smarter than he was.)

  When the farmer heard about it, he said, “If the king wants you for his wife, you have no choice but to marry him. But watch your step, for if the king quickly decides what he wants, he can decide just as quickly what he no longer wants. Be sure to leave your workclothes hanging up here on a hook. In case you ever have to come home, you’ll find them all ready to put back on.”

  But Catherine was so happy and excited that she paid little attention to her father’s words, and a few days after the wedding was celebrated. There were festivities throughout the kingdom, with a big fair in the capital. The inns were filled to overflow, and many farmers had to sleep in the town squares, which were crowded all the way up to the king’s palace.

  One far
mer, who had brought to town a pregnant cow to sell, found no barn to put the animal in, so an innkeeper told him he could put it under a shed at the inn and tether it to another farmer’s cart. Lo and behold, in the night, the cow gave birth to a calf. In the morning the proud owner of the cow was preparing to lead his two animals away when out rushed the owner of the cart, shouting, “That’s all right about the cow, she’s yours. But hands off the calf, it’s mine.”

  “What do you mean, it’s yours? Didn’t my cow have it last night?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be mine?” answered the other farmer. “The cow was tied to the cart, the cart’s mine, so the calf belongs to the owner of the cart.”

  A heated quarrel arose, and in no time they were fighting. They grabbed props from under the cart and struck in blind fury at one another. At the noise, a large crowd gathered around them; then the constables ran up, separated the two men, and marched them straight into the king’s court of justice.

  It was once the custom in the royal city, mind you, for the king’s wife also to express her opinion. But now with Catherine as queen, it happened that every time the king delivered a judgment, she opposed it. Weary of that in no time, the king said to her, “I warned you not to meddle in state business. From now on you’ll stay out of the court of justice.” And so she did. The farmers therefore appeared before the king alone.

  After hearing both sides, the king rendered this decision: “The calf goes with the cart.”

  The owner of the cow found the decision too unjust for words, but what could he do? The king’s judgment was final. Seeing the farmer so upset, the innkeeper advised him to go to the queen, who might find a way out.

  The farmer went to the palace and asked a servant, “Could you tell me, my good man, if I might have a word with the queen?”

  “That is impossible,” replied the servant, “since the king has forbidden her to hear people’s cases.”

  The farmer then went up to the garden wall. Spying the queen, he jumped over the wall and burst into tears as he told how unjust her husband had been to him. The queen said, “My advice is this. The king is going hunting tomorrow in the vicinity of a lake that is always bone-dry at this time of year. Do the following: hang a fish-dipper on your belt, take a net, and go through the motions of fishing. At the sight of someone fishing in that dry lake, the king will laugh and then ask why you’re fishing where there’s no water. You must answer: ‘Majesty, if a cart can give birth to a calf, maybe I can catch a fish in a dry lake.’ ”

  The next morning, with dipper dangling at his side and net in hand, the farmer went off to the dry lake, sat down on the shore, lowered his net, then raised it as though it were full of fish. The king came up with his retinue and saw him. Laughing, he asked the farmer if he had lost his mind. The farmer answered him exactly as the queen had suggested.

  At that reply, the king exclaimed, “My good man, somebody else had a finger in this pie. You’ve been talking to the queen.”

  The farmer did not deny it, and the king pronounced a new judgment awarding him the calf.

  Then he sent for Catherine and said, “You’ve been meddling again, and you know I forbade that. So now you can go back to your father. Take the thing you like most of all in the palace and go home this very evening and be a farm girl once more.”

  Humbly, Catherine replied, “I will do as Your Majesty wills. Only, I would ask one favor: let me leave tomorrow. Tonight it would be too embarrassing for you and for me, and your subjects would gossip.”

  “Very well,” said the king. “We’ll dine together for the last time, and you will go away tomorrow.”

  So what did sly Catherine turn around and do but have the cooks prepare roasts and hams and other heavy food that would make a person drowsy and thirsty. She also ordered the best wines brought up from the cellar. At dinner the king ate and ate and ate, while Catherine emptied bottle after bottle into his glass. Soon his vision clouded up, he started stuttering, and at last fell asleep in his armchair, like a pig.

  Then Catherine said to the servants, “Pick up the armchair with its contents and follow me. And not a word out of you, or else!” She left the palace, passed through the city gate, and didn’t stop until she reached her house, late in the night.

  “Open up, Daddy, it’s me,” she cried.

  At the sound of his daughter’s voice, the old farmer ran to the window. “Back at this hour of the night? I told you so! I was wise to hold on to your workclothes. They’re still here hanging on the hook in your room.”

  “Come on, let me in,” said Catherine, “and don’t talk so much!”

  The farmer opened the door and saw the servants bearing the armchair with the king in it. Catherine had him carried into her room, undressed, and put into her bed. Then she dismissed the servants and lay down beside the king.

  Around midnight the king awakened. The mattress seemed harder than usual, and the sheets rougher. He turned over and felt his wife there beside him. He said, “Catherine, didn’t I tell you to go home?”

  “Yes, Majesty,” she replied, “but it’s not day yet. Go back to sleep.”

  The king went back to sleep. In the morning he woke up to the braying of the donkey and the bleating of the sheep, and saw the sunshine streaming through the window. He shook himself, for he no longer recognized the royal bedchamber. He turned to his wife. “Catherine, where on earth are we?”

  She answered, “Didn’t you tell me, Majesty, to return home with the thing I liked best of all? I took you, and I’m keeping you.”

  The king laughed, and they made up. They went back to the royal palace, where they still live, and from that day on, the king has never appeared in the court of justice without his wife.

  THE WISE LITTLE GIRL

  Russia

  Two brothers were traveling together: one was poor and the other was rich, and each had a horse, the poor one a mare, and the rich one a gelding. They stopped for the night, one beside the other. The poor man’s mare bore a foal during the night, and the foal rolled under the rich man’s cart.

  In the morning the rich man roused his poor brother, saying, “Get up, brother. During the night my cart bore a foal.”

  The brother rose and said, “How is it possible for a cart to give birth to a foal? It was my mare who bore the foal!”

  The rich brother said, “If your mare were his mother, he would have been found lying beside her.”

  To settle their quarrel they went to the authorities. The rich man gave the judges money and the poor man presented his case in words.

  Finally word of this affair reached the tsar himself. He summoned both brothers before him and proposed to them four riddles: “What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world? What is the fattest thing in the world? What is the softest thing? And what is the loveliest thing?” He gave them three days’ time and said, “On the fourth day come back with your answers.”

  The rich man thought and thought, remembered his godmother and went to ask her advice. She bade him sit down to table, treated him to food and drink, and then asked, “Why are you so sad, my godson?”

  “The sovereign has proposed four riddles to me, and given me only three days to solve them.”

  “What are the riddles? Tell me.”

  “Well, godmother, this is the first riddle: ‘What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world?’ ”

  “That’s not difficult! My husband has a bare mare; nothing in the world is swifter than she is; if you lash her with a whip she will overtake a hare.”

  “The second riddle is: ‘What is the fattest thing in the world?’ ”

  “We have been feeding a spotted boar for the last two years; he has become so fat that he can barely stand on his legs.”

  “The third riddle is: ‘What is the softest thing in the world?’ ”

  “That’s well known. Eider down—you cannot think of anything softer.”

  “The fourth riddle is: ‘What is the loveliest thing in the world?’ ”
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  “The loveliest thing in the world is my grandson Ivanushka.”

  “Thank you, godmother, you have advised me well. I shall be grateful to you for the rest of my life.”

  As for the poor brother, he shed bitter tears and went home. He was met by his seven-year-old daughter—she was his only child—who said, “Why are you sighing and shedding tears, Father?”

  “How can I help sighing and shedding tears? The tsar has proposed four riddles to me, and I shall never be able to solve them.”

  “Tell me, what are these riddles?”

  “Here they are, my little daughter: ‘What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world? What is the fattest thing, what is the softest thing, and what is the loveliest thing?’ ”

  “Father, go to the tsar and tell him that the strongest and fastest thing in the world is the wind; the fattest is the earth, for she feeds everything that grows and lives; the softest of all is the hand, for whatever a man may lie on, he puts his hand under his head; and there is nothing lovelier in the world than sleep.”

  The two brothers, the poor one and the rich one, came to the tsar. The tsar heard their answers to the riddles, and asked the poor man, “Did you solve these riddles yourself, or did someone solve them for you?”

  The poor man answered, “Your Majesty, I have a seven-year-old daughter, and she gave me the answers.”

  “If your daughter is so wise, here is a silken thread for her; let her weave an embroidered towel for me by tomorrow morning.”

  The peasant took the silken thread and came home sad and grieving. “We are in trouble,” he said to his daughter. “The tsar has ordered you to weave a towel from this thread.”

  “Grieve not, Father,” said the little girl. She broke off a twig from a broom, gave it to her father, and told him, “Go to the tsar and ask him to find a master who can make a loom from this twig; on it I will weave his towel.”