Norwegian Folktales

by Peter Christen Asbjornsen

  When they had travelled for a while, they saw a huge mountain in the distance, and the fox said, “Three hundred miles beyond that mountain is a gilded linden tree with leaves of gold, and in that linden tree sits the golden bird which the feather comes from.”

  There they travelled together. As the king’s son was about to go over and catch the bird, the fox gave him some pretty feathers, which he was to wave and lure the bird down, so it would come flying and perch on his hand. But the fox warned him not to touch the linden tree, for a big Troll owned it, and if he touched even the smallest twig, the Troll would come and kill him on the spot.

  No, the king’s son certainly would not touch it, he said. But when the bird was perched on his hand, he felt he had to have one twig from the linden tree; he couldn’t help himself, it was so bright and fine. So he took just a tiny one. But at the same moment the Troll came out.

  “Who’s stealing my linden tree and my bird?” roared the Troll, and he was so angry that sparks flew from his eyes.

  “A thief thinks that every man steals,” said the prince, “but only the one who doesn’t steal cleverly enough is hanged!” The Troll said it made no difference, and wanted to kill him. But the king’s son pleaded that his life should be spared.

  “Well, well,” said the Troll, “if you can bring back the horse which my nearest neighbor stole from me, I will spare your life!”

  “But where will I find him?” asked the king’s son.

  “He lives three hundred miles beyond that mountain which is blue on the horizon,” said the Troll.

  The king’s son promised to do his best, but when he came to the fox, he was far from pleased.

  “Now you have got us in a bad mess,” said the fox. “If only you had listened to me, we would have been on our way home by now.”

  They had to set out on the way again, since it was a matter of life and death and the king’s son had promised. And after a while they came to the stable where the prince was to find the horse.

  But when he was going in to take the horse, the fox said, “When you get inside the stable, you will see many bridles, both of silver and gold, hanging on the wall. But you must not touch them, for then the Troll will come and slay you on the spot. You must only take the ugliest and most worn-out one you see there.”

  Well, the king’s son promised to do as he was told, but when he got inside the stable, he thought it was downright unreasonable, for there were plenty of fine ones, and so he took the shiniest he could find, and it was as bright as gold. But at that very moment the Troll came out, and he was so angry that the sparks flew.

  “Who’s stealing my horse and my bridle?” he shrieked.

  “A thief thinks that every man steals,” said the king’s son, “but only the one who doesn’t steal cleverly enough is hanged.”

  “Just the same, I am going to kill you on the spot,” said the Troll.

  But the king’s son thought his life should be spared.

  “Well, well,” said the Troll, “If you can bring back the lovely maiden my nearest neighbor has stolen from me, I shall spare your life.”

  All the Trolls burst into a fit of laughter.

  “Where does he live, then?” asked the king’s son.

  “Oh, he lives three hundred miles back of that big mountain which looks blue on the horizon,” said the Troll.

  Well, the king’s son promised to bring back the maiden, and then he was allowed to go, and got away with his life.

  But when he came outside, the fox wasn’t very happy, you might know. “Now you have got us into a terrible mess again,” said the fox. “If only you had listened to me, we could have been on the way home long ago. Now I have a good mind not to stay with you any longer.”

  But the young prince pleaded so earnestly, and promised to do everything the fox told him to, if only he would stay with him. At last the fox gave in, and they became friends and were on good terms; and so they set out on the way again, and after a while they came to where the lovely maiden was.

  “Well,” said the fox, “you have promised well enough, but I dare not let you go in to the Troll, all the same. This time I shall go in myself.”

  So he went in, and after a little while he came out again with the maiden, and then they travelled back the same way they had come.

  When they came to the Troll who had the horse, they took both the horse and the shiniest bridle, and when they came to the Troll who had the linden tree and the bird, they took both the linden and the bird and started for home.

  When they had travelled for a while, they came to a field of rye. Then the fox said, “I hear a rumbling sound. Now you’ll have to travel alone, I am going to stay here for a while.” Then he braided himself a garment of rye-straw and put it on, and he looked almost like someone standing there preaching. All at once all three Trolls came rushing up, thinking that they would catch up with them again.

  “Have you seen anyone go by with a lovely maiden, and a horse with a golden bridle, and a golden bird, and a gilded linden tree?” they shrieked to the fox who stood there preaching.

  “Yes, I’ve heard from my grandmother’s grandmother that such a party passed this way. But that was in the good old times when my grandmother’s grandmother baked cakes and sold them two for a penny, and gave back the penny into the bargain!”

  At this story all the Trolls burst into a fit of laughter: “Ha, ha, ha, ha!” they said, holding onto each other. “If we’ve been asleep that long, we might as well turn right back and go to sleep again,” they said, and then they went back the same way.

  The fox set out after the king’s son; but when they came to the city with the inn and the brothers, the fox said, “I don’t dare go through the city for fear of the dogs. I must go my own way around. But now you must take good care so your brothers don’t get hold of you.”

  But when the king’s son came into the city, he thought it would be a shame not to see his brothers and have a few words with them, and so he stopped there a little while. But when the brothers saw him, they came out and took away from him the maiden, and the horse, and the bird, and the linden tree. And they put him in a barrel and threw it into the sea. And then they set off with the maiden, and the horse, and the bird, and the linden tree, and everything, and went home to the king’s court. But the maiden would not talk, and became pale and downhearted; the horse became so thin that it could hardly stand on its legs; the golden bird sat silent and no longer shone; and the linden tree withered away.

  In the meantime, the fox prowled about on the outskirts of the city, and waited for the king’s son and the lovely maiden, wondering what had become of them. He wandered hither and yon, waiting and longing, and at last came down to the shore; and when he caught sight of the barrel floating on the water, he shouted, “Are you drifting there, you empty barrel?”

  “Oh, it’s me,” said the king’s son inside the barrel.

  The fox started swimming out in the water as fast as he could go, caught hold of the barrel and dragged it ashore. Then he gnawed at the hoops, and when he had pulled them off the barrel, he said to the king’s son, “Kick and stretch!”

  The king’s son kicked, and pounded and stretched, until each stave gave way, and he hopped out of the barrel. Then they went to the king’s court together, and when they arrived, the maiden became beautiful again and started to talk, the horse became so fat and pretty that each hair glistened, the bird shone and sang, and the linden tree bloomed and its leaves sparkled again. And the maiden said, “There is the one who saved me.”

  They put the linden tree in the garden, and the youngest son was to have the princess, for a princess she was. But the two eldest brothers were clapped in spiked barrels and rolled off a steep cliff.

  Then they made ready for a wedding. But first the fox begged the king’s son to lay him on the chopping block and cut his head off. And for all the king’s son tried to get out of it, it was of no avail, he had to do it. But at the very moment he chopped, the fox turned in
to a handsome prince, and proved to be the brother of the princess they had saved from the Troll. So the wedding was held, and it was so grand and fine, and they celebrated so that people are still talking about it.

  THE SQUIRE’S BRIDE

  There was once a rich Squire who owned a big manor, and he had silver stored in his chest, and money lent out at interest. But something was wanting, for he was a widower. One day the daughter from the neighboring farm was there working for him. The Squire had taken quite a liking to her, and, as she was the child of poor folk, he thought that if he but hinted at matrimony she would jump at the chance. So he said to her that he had hit upon the idea of marrying again.

  “Yes, yes, one can hit upon so many things,” said the girl, standing there tittering. She thought the ugly old fellow could have hit upon something which suited him better than getting married.

  “Yes, but the idea is that you should be my wife!” said the Squire.

  The boy threw himself onto the little mare’s back, and rode home at full gallop.

  She said, “No! Many thanks just the same!” and thought, that day will never come.

  But the Squire wasn’t used to hearing “No!” and the less she wanted him, the more he was bent on getting her. When he could make no headway with the girl, he sent for her father and told him that if he could fix it so he got her, he would forget about the money he had lent him. And he would throw in that piece of land which lay alongside his meadow into the bargain.

  Yes, he would soon straighten his daughter out, thought the father. She was only a child and didn’t know what was for her own good, he said.

  But for all his talking to the daughter, both soft and sharp, it helped not one bit. She wouldn’t have the Squire if he sat in powdered gold up to his ears, she said.

  The Squire waited day after day, but at last he grew angry and impatient, and so he said to the girl’s father that, if he was going to stand by his promise, he had better strike a blow for the cause right away, for he would not wait any longer.

  The man knew of no other way, he said, than for the Squire to get everything ready for the wedding. And, when the parson and the wedding guests had come, he was to send for the girl as though there was some work for her to do. And when she came, she must be wedded in a trice before she had time to collect her wits.

  This, thought the Squire, was good and well, so he had his servants brew and bake and prepare for the wedding with a vengeance.

  When the wedding guests had come, the Squire shouted to one of his boys and said he was to run down to the neighbor south of the farm, and have him send up what he had promised.

  “But if you’re not back in the twinkling of an eye,” he said, shaking his fist, “I’ll —” More he didn’t get said, for the boy was off as though he had been burnt.

  “I’m to greet you from the Master and ask for what you’ve promised,” said the boy to the man south of the farm. “But it has to be this very minute, for he’s hopping mad today!”

  “Yes, yes! Run down to the meadow and take her with you. She’s down there,” said the neighbor.

  The boy was off. When he came down to the meadow, the daughter was there raking. “I’m to fetch what your father’s promised the master,” said the boy.

  “Aha! They can’t fool me that way,” she thought. “Oh, is that so?” she said aloud. “It’s the little white mare, isn’t it? You’ll have go to over and take her. She’s tethered on the other side of the pea patch,” said the girl.

  The boy threw himself onto the little mare’s back, and rode home at full gallop.

  “Did you bring her with you?” said the Squire.

  “She’s standing out by the door,” said the boy.

  “Well, lead her up to mother’s old room, then!” said the Squire.

  “Dear me! How is that to be done?” said the boy.

  “You just do as I say!” said the Squire. “If you can’t manage her by yourself, you’ll have to get folk to help,” he said. He thought the girl might get out of hand.

  When the boy saw the Squire’s face, he realized there was no use arguing out in the yard. So he went down, and took with him all the servants who were there. Some hauled on the front half, and some shoved on the back, and at last they got the mare up the stairs and into the chamber. There lay the bridal outfit ready and waiting.

  “Now I’ve done that too, Master,” said the boy. “But it was an awful job — the worst I’ve had here at the farm.”

  “Well! Well! You won’t have done it for nothing,” said the Squire. “Now send the womenfolk up to dress her.”

  Some hauled on the front half, and some shoved on the back, and at last they got the mare up the stairs and into the chamber.

  But when the door opened, and the Squire’s Bride came into the great hall, all the wedding guests burst out laughing.

  “But dear me! — After all!” said the boy.

  “Don’t talk back! They’re to dress her up, and they’re to forget neither wreath nor crown!” said the Master.

  The boy went down in the kitchen.

  “Now listen, girls,” he said, “you’re to go upstairs and dress that little mare as a bride. The Master, no doubt, wants to give the guests a good laugh.”

  Well, the girls put the bridal outfit on the little mare, and then the boy went down and said she was ready, and wearing both wreath and crown.

  “Well done,” said the Master. “Bring her down and I’ll receive her at the door myself!”

  There was a tremendous clattering on the stairs, for she didn’t come down in silken shoes, that bride. But when the door opened, and the Squire’s Bride came into the great hall, all the wedding guests burst out laughing.

  And the Squire was so well pleased with that bride, that they say he has never been out courting since!

  LITTLE FREDDIE AND HIS FIDDLE

  Once there was a peasant who had an only son, and this boy was weak and had poor health so he wasn’t able to go to work. His name was Fred, and small he was too, so they called him “Little Freddie”.

  At home there was little to eat and little to burn, so his father went about the countryside trying to hire him out as a cowherd or errand boy. But he could find no one who would have his boy until he came to the sheriff. The sheriff had just got rid of his errand boy, and there was no one who wanted to go to him as he was known to be a rogue. That was better than nothing, thought the peasant. The boy would at least get something to eat, for at the sheriff’s he was to work for his board; and nothing was said about wages or clothing.

  But when the boy had been there for three years, he wanted to leave, and then the sheriff gave him all his wages at once. He was to have a penny for each year he had served. “It could not be less,” said the sheriff, so the boy got three pennies altogether.

  To Little Freddie this seemed like big money, for he had never owned so much before, but still he asked the sheriff if he shouldn’t have more.

  “You have received more than you should have,” said the sheriff.

  “Shouldn’t I have anything for clothes, then?” said Little Freddie. “The ones I had when I came here are all worn out, and I haven’t got any new ones.” And now he was so tattered that the rags hung and fluttered on him, he said.

  “You have received what we agreed on, and three pennies besides, so I have finished with you,” said the sheriff. But the boy was allowed to go out to the kitchen and get a little food in his knapsack; and then he set out on the road to town to buy himself some clothes. He was both happy and merry, for never had he seen a penny before, and from time to time he felt in his pocket to see if he had all three of them.

  When he had walked far, and farther than far, he came into a narrow valley with high mountains on all sides, so it didn’t seem to him that there was any way of coming out. He began to wonder what could be on the other side of these mountains, and how he was going to get over them.

  He had to go up, so he set out on the way; he wasn’t able to go very fast a
nd he had to rest now and then. So he counted his money to see how much he had. When he came up to the very top, there was nothing but a large mossy plateau.

  There he sat down and was going to see if he had his money again, but before he knew it, a poor man was standing before him, and he was so big and tall that Little Freddie started to scream when he really saw how big and tall he was.

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” said the poor man. “I’m not going to hurt you. All I ask for is a penny in God’s name.”

  “Mercy!” said the boy. “I only have three pennies, and I was going to town to buy some clothes with them,” he said.

  “I’m worse off than you are,” said the poor man. “I haven’t any pennies, and I’m even more ragged than you are.”

  “Well, then I guess you’ll have to have it,” said the lad.

  When he had gone a bit farther, he became tired and sat down to rest again. When he looked up, another poor man was standing there, but he was even bigger and uglier than the first, and when the boy really saw how big and ugly and tall he was, he started to scream.

  “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you. All I ask for is a penny, in God’s name,” said the poor man.

  “Mercy! The truth is,” said the boy, “that I have only two pennies, and I was going to town to buy some clothes with them. Had I met you before —”

  “I’m worse off than you are,” said the poor man. “I have no pennies at all, and a larger body and fewer clothes.”

  “Well, then I guess you’ll have to have it,” said the boy.

  So he walked a while again until he became tired, and then he sat down to rest, and once he was seated another man was standing before him; but he was so big and ugly and tall that the boy looked upwards and upwards, until he was looking straight up to the sky, and when he really saw how big and ugly and ragged he was, he began to scream.