Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Brothers Grimm

  “Comrade, I did it as well as I could,” said he. “This time,” continued the holy Saint, “I will help you out of your trouble, but do not undertake anything of this sort again, or it will be your ruin. Likewise I warn you, you are not to take or desire the least things of the King for this service.”

  Thereupon the Saint laid the bones in their right order, and said thrice aloud, “In the name of the most Holy, arise, oh dead!” and immediately the Princess arose as well as ever, and as beautiful. Then the Saint disappeared through the window, and left Brother Lustig rejoicing at the miracle, but vexed that he must not take any reward for the deed. “I should like to know,” said he, “what whim now he has taken into his head, for what he gives with one hand he takes with the other, and there is no understanding him.” And so thinking, when the King asked him what he wished for he dared not take anything, but through artifice and cunning he managed to get his knapsack filled with gold. Then he took his leave with many thanks, and as he went out the door the Saint stood there, and said, “What sort of a man are you? I forbade you to take anything, and yet you have your knapsack filled with gold.”

  “How can I help it, if it is put in for me?” replied Brother Lustig.

  “Well, this I tell you,” continued the Saint, “if you undertake such things in future you will suffer.”

  “Oh! comrade, what care I? now I have money what do I want with bone-boiling?” said Brother Lustig.

  “Ah!” said the Saint, “the gold will last long, will it not? but, that you may not tread again in forbidden paths, I will give your knapsack this power—whatever you wish, that shall you see within it. Farewell! you will not now see me again.”

  “Heaven be praised!” exclaimed Brother Lustig, “I am glad that you are gone, you strange fellow; I certainly will not follow you.” But of the wonderful power of his knapsack he did not then think.

  On again he traveled and traveled, spending and wasting his money as at first, till at length he had but four farthings left, with which sum he arrived at an inn on his road. “The money must go,” thought he, and he laid it out in three farthings’ worth of wine and one of bread. As he sat eating, the smell of roast goose tickled his nose, and he got up and peeped about, and presently discovered that the Landlord had put two geese into the oven to bake. Just then it occurred to him to try the wonderful power of his knapsack, and he went out at the door, and wished that the two roast geese were safe within it. As soon as he had said the words he unbuckled and looked in, and there they both lay snug enough! “Ah! all’s right,” said he, “I am a made man;” and he turned into a meadow and pulled out his prize. Just as he was in the best of his eating, two working men came by and looked at the goose which was yet untouched with hungry eyes.

  Brother Lustig, thinking when he saw them that he had quite enough with one, called up the two fellows and said, “There, take this goose, and eat it to my health and happiness.” They thanked him, and went on to the inn and ordered some wine and bread, and then, pulling out their present, began to eat. The Landlady looked at them, and then at her husband, and said to him, “They are eating a goose; just see if it is not one of ours out of the oven.”

  The Landlord ran to look, and behold there was the oven empty, and, coming back, he cried out, “You thieving rascals, would you eat goose so cheaply? Pay me for it quickly, or I will beat you with the thickest stick I can find!”

  But the two cried together, “We are not thieves! A discharged soldier out there on the meadow gave us this goose!” “Tell me no lies,” said the Landlord; “the soldier has been here certainly, but he has gone out at the door like an honest man; I have no suspicion of him, you are thieves, and must pay the reckoning.” But as they would not pay he took a stick and flogged them out of the house. Meanwhile Brother Lustig walked on till he came to a village, on one side of which stood a noble castle, and on the other a mean little inn, into which he went, and asked for a night’s lodging, but the Host refused, saying, “There is no room; my house is full of excellent guests.” “It is a wonder to me, then,” replied the Soldier, “that they come to you instead of going into that fine castle.”

  “Ah! that would be worth while surely,” said the Landlord. “Why, no one who has tried to sleep there one night has ever yet come out alive.”

  “I will try it, then, as others have,” replied Brother Lustig.

  “You had better not,” said the Landlord; “you will lose your life.”

  “We shall see, we shall see!” rejoined the Soldier. “Give me the key and something substantial to eat and drink.”

  The Landlord, therefore, gave him the key, and some meat and beer, and Brother Lustig took them into the castle and ate a hearty meal, after which, feeling sleepy, he laid down upon the ground, for there was no bed. He soon went to sleep, but in the middle of the night he was awakened by a great screeching, and when he aroused himself he saw nine ugly evil spirits, who had joined hands in a circle, and were dancing round him. When Brother Lustig saw them he said, “Dance as long as you like, but don’t come too near!” But the spirits did not pay any attention to him, and kept approaching nearer and nearer till they almost kicked their feet in his face. “Be quiet, you wretched spirits!” said the Soldier again; but still they came nearer and nearer, so that he grew quite angry and called out, “Then I will make you be still!” and, taking up the leg of a chair, he made an attack upon them. The evil spirits, however, were rather too many against one Soldier, and, even if he knocked one down, another instantly flew at his hair and tore it out unmercifully. “You pack of evils!” cried he, “this is too much for me; but wait. All nine into my knapsack!” No sooner had he said the words than in they tumbled, and, buckling up the knapsack instantly, he threw it into a corner. Then everything was quiet at once, and Brother Lustig laid himself down and slept till broad daylight. At that time the landlord and the nobleman to whom the castle belonged entered it, to see how he had passed the night, and as soon as they saw him alive and well they were astonished, and inquired, “What! have the spirits done nothing to you?”

  “No; and for a good reason,” replied Brother Lustig. “I have them all nine in my knapsack. You may live in your castle again in quiet: henceforth nothing of this sort will happen.”

  The nobleman thanked him, and rewarded him liberally, and begged him to remain in his service, and he would take care of him all his lifetime. But the Soldier refused, saying he was used to wandering about, and wished to proceed further. So Brother Lustig travelled on, and, coming to a smithy, he laid the knapsack wherein were the nine evil spirits upon the anvil, and bade the smith and his companions beat it, and they beat it with their heavy hammers with all their strength, so that the evil spirits received an unmerciful crushing, and when he opened the knapsack eight were dead; but one who had crept into a corner was still living, and slipped out, and ran away to the place he came from.

  After this Brother Lustig travelled about still more, the whole world through, and whoever knows them might tell many tales of his wanderings. At length he began to grow old, and be thought himself of his end; so he went to a pilgrim who was known as a very pious man, and said to him, “I am weary of wandering, and wish now to tread in a holy path.”

  The Pilgrim said to him, “There are two roads, the one broad and smooth, and leading to the abode of evil spirits, the other narrow and rugged, which leads to the abode of angels.” “I should be a simpleton,” thought Brother Lustig within himself, “if I should walk in the narrow and rugged road;” and, getting up, he chose the broad and smooth path, along which he travelled till he came to a large black gate, which was the entrance to the abode of evil. At this he knocked, and the door-porter peeped out to see who it was, and as soon as he saw Brother Lustig he was frightened, for he was the same ninth evil spirit who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had escaped with a black eye. He pushed the bolt in quicker than before, and ran to the chief evil spirit and said, “There is a fellow outside with a knapsack who wants to enter;
but let him not get his body inside or he will wish the whole place in his knapsack, as he once did to me.”

  So Brother Lustig was told that he must go away again, for he could not enter, and he resolved, therefore, to try if he could find a welcome in the abode of angels, for somewhere he must go. So he turned and traveled on till he came to the door, at which he knocked, and there sat by the door at watch the same Saint who had travelled with him. Brother Lustig recognised him at once, and thought, “Since I find an old friend here, it will be more lucky for me.”

  But the holy Saint said, “I suppose you wish to enter this abode?”

  “Yes; let me in, comrade,” said he.

  “No,” said the Saint, “you cannot enter.”

  “No!” reiterated the old Soldier, “no! well then since you will not let me in, take back your knapsack, for I will have nothing of yours.”

  “Give it me here,” said the Saint; and he reached it through the bars of the gate, and the Saint hung it up near his seat. Then Brother Lustig said, “Now I wish myself inside the knapsack,” and in a moment he was there, and so outwitted the Saint, who was thus compelled to let him enter the abode of the angels.

  Hans in Luck

  Hans had served his master seven years, and at the end of that time he said to him, “Master, since my time is up, I should like to go home to my mother; so give me my wages, if you please.”

  His Master replied, “You have served me truly and honestly, Hans, and such as your service was, such shall be your reward;” and with these words he gave him a lump of gold as big as his head. Hans thereupon took his handkerchief out of his pocket, and, wrapping the gold up in it, threw it over his shoulder and set out on the road towards his native village. As he went along, carefully setting one foot to the ground before the other, a horseman came in sight, trotting gaily and briskly along upon a capital animal. “Ah,” said Hans, aloud, “what a fine thing that riding is! one is seated, as it were, upon a stool, kicks against no stones, spares one’s shoes, and gets along without any trouble!”

  The Rider, overhearing Hans making these reflections, stopped and said, “Why, then, do you travel on foot, my fine fellow?”

  “Because I am forced,” replied Hans, “for I have got a bit of a lump to carry home; it certainly is gold, but then I can’t carry my head straight, and it hurts my shoulder.”

  “If you like we will exchange,” said the Rider; “I will give you my horse, and you can give me your lump of gold.”

  “With all my heart,” cried Hans; “but I tell you fairly you undertake a very heavy burden.”

  The man dismounted, took the gold, and helped Hans on to the horse, and, giving him the reins into his hands, said, “Now, when you want to go faster, you must chuckle with your tongue and cry, ‘Gee up! gee up!’ ”

  Hans was delighted indeed when he found himself on the top of a horse, and riding along so freely and gaily. After a while he thought he should like to go rather quicker, and so he cried, “Gee up! gee up!” as the man had told him. The horse soon set off at a hard trot, and, before Hans knew what he was about, he was thrown over head and heels into a ditch which divided the fields from the road. The horse, having accomplished this feat, would have bolted off if he had not been stopped by a Peasant who was coming that way, driving a cow before him. Hans soon picked himself up on his legs, but he was terribly put out, and said to the countryman, “That is bad sport, that riding, especially when one mounts such a beast as that, which stumbles and throws one off so as to nearly break one’s neck: I will never ride on that animal again. Commend me to your cow: one may walk behind her without any discomfort, and besides one has, every day for certain, milk, butter, and cheese. Ah! what would I not give for such a cow!”

  “Well,” said the Peasant, “such an advantage you may soon enjoy; I will exchange my cow for your horse.”

  To this Hans consented with a thousand thanks, and the Peasant, swinging himself upon the horse, rode off in a hurry.

  Hans now drove his cow off steadily before him, thinking of his lucky bargain in this wise: “I have a bit of bread, and I can, as often as I please, eat with it butter and cheese; and when I am thirsty I can milk my cow and have a draught: and what more can I desire?”

  As soon, then, as he came to an inn he halted, and ate with great satisfaction all the bread he had brought with him for his noonday and evening meals, and washed it down with a glass of beer, to buy which he spent his two last farthings. This over, he drove his cow further, but still in the direction of his mother’s village. The heat meantime became more and more oppressive as noontime approached, and just then Hans came to a common which was an hour’s journey across. Here he got into such a state of heat that his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, and he thought to himself, “This won’t do; I will just milk my cow, and refresh myself.” Hans, therefore, tied her to a stump of a tree, and, having no pail, placed his leathern cap below, and set to work, but not a drop of milk could he squeeze out. He had placed himself, too, very awkwardly, and at last the impatient cow gave him such a kick on the head that he tumbled over on the ground, and for a long time knew not where he was. Fortunately, not many hours after, a Butcher passed by, trundling a young pig along upon a wheelbarrow. “What trick is this!” exclaimed he, helping up poor Hans; and Hans told him all that had passed. The Butcher then handed him his flask and said, “There, take a drink; it will revive you. Your cow might well give no milk: she is an old beast, and worth nothing at the best but for the plough or the butcher!”

  “Eh! eh!” said Hans, pulling his hair over his eyes, “who would have thought it? It is all very well when one can kill a beast like that at home, and make a profit of the flesh; but for my part, I have no relish for cow’s flesh; it is too tough for me! Ah! a young pig like yours is the thing that tastes something like, let alone the sausages!”

  “Well now, for love of you,” said the Butcher, “I will make an exchange, and let you have my pig for your cow.”

  “Heaven reward you for your kindness!” cried Hans; and, giving up the cow, he untied the pig from the barrow, and took into his hand the string with which it was tied.

  Hans walked on again, considering how everything had happened just as he wished, and how all his vexations had turned out for the best after all! Presently a Boy overtook him, carrying a fine white goose under his arm, and after they had said “Good day” to each other, Hans began to talk about his luck, and what profitable exchanges he had made. The Boy on his part told him that he was carrying the goose to a christening-feast. “Just lift it,” said he to Hans, holding it up by its wings, “just feel how heavy it is; why, it has been fattened up for the last eight weeks, and whoever bites it when it is cooked will have to wipe the grease from each side of his mouth!”

  “Yes,” said Hans, weighing it with one hand, “it is weighty, but my pig is no trifle either.”

  While he was speaking the Boy kept looking about on all sides, and shaking his head suspiciously, and at length he broke out, “I am afraid it is not all right about your pig. In the village, through which I have just come, one has been stolen out of the sty of the mayor himself; and I am afraid, very much afraid, you have it now in your hand! They have sent out several people, and it would be a very bad job for you if they found you with the pig; the best thing you can do is to hide it in some dark corner!”

  Honest Hans was thunderstruck, and exclaimed, “Ah, Heaven help me in this fresh trouble! you know the neighbourhood better than I do; do you take my pig and let me have your goose,” said he to the boy.

  “I shall have to hazard something at that game,” replied the Boy, “but still I do not wish to be the cause of your meeting with misfortune;” and, so saying, he took the rope into his own hand, and drove the pig off quickly by a side path, while Hans, lightened of his cares, walked on homewards with the goose under his arm. “If I judge rightly,” thought he to himself, “I have gained even by this exchange: first there is the good roast; then the quantity of fat w
hich will drip out will make goose broth for a quarter of a year; and then there are the fine white feathers, which when once I have put into my pillow I warrant I shall sleep without rocking. What pleasure my mother will have!”

  As he came to the last village on his road there stood a Knife-grinder, with his barrow by the hedge, whirling his wheel round and singing—

  “Scissors and razors and such-like I grind;

  And gaily my rags are flying behind.”

  Hans stopped and looked at him, and at last he said, “You appear to have a good business, if I may judge by your merry song?”

  “Yes,” answered the Grinder, “this business has a golden bottom! A true knife-grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket feels money in it! But what a fine goose you have got; where did you buy it?”