Grimms' Fairy Tales

by George Cruikshank

  The Blue Light

  A soldier had served a king his master many years, till at last he was turned off without pay or reward. How he should get his living he did not know: so he set out and journeyed homeward all day in a very downcast mood, until in the evening he came to the edge of a deep wood. The road leading that way, he pushed forward, but had not gone far before he saw a light glimmering through the trees, towards which he bent his weary steps; and soon came to a hut where no one lived but an old witch. The poor fellow begged for a night’s lodging and something to eat and drink; but she would listen to nothing: however, he was not easily got rid of; and at last she said, ‘I think I will take pity on you this once; but if I do, you must dig over all my garden for me in the morning.’ The soldier agreed very willingly to any thing she asked, and he became her guest.

  The next day he kept his word and dug the garden very neatly. The job lasted all day; and in the evening, when his mistress would have sent him away, he said, ‘I am so tired with my work that I must beg you to let me stay over the night.’ The old lady vowed at first she would not do any such thing; but after a great deal of talk he carried his point, agreeing to chop up a whole cart-load of wood for her the next day.

  This task too was duly ended; but not till towards night; and then he found himself so tired, that he begged a third night’s rest: and this too was given, but only on his pledging his word that he next day would fetch the witch the blue light that burnt at the bottom of the well.

  When morning came she led him to the well’s mouth, tied him to a long rope, and let him down. At the bottom sure enough he found the blue light as the witch had said, and at once made the signal for her to draw him up again. But when she had pulled him up so near to the top that she could reach him with her hands, she said, ‘Give me the light, I will take care of it,’ – meaning to play him a trick, by taking it for herself and letting him fall again to the bottom of the well. But the soldier saw through her wicked thoughts, and said, ‘No, I shall not give you the light till I find myself safe and sound out of the well.’ At this she became very angry, and dashed him, with the light she had longed for many a year, down to the bottom. And there lay the poor soldier for a while in despair, on the damp mud below, and feared that his end was nigh. But his pipe happened to be in his pocket still half full, and he thought to himself, ‘I may as well make an end of smoking you out; it is the last pleasure I shall have in this world.’ So he lit it at the blue light, and began to smoke.

  Up rose a cloud of smoke, and on a sudden a little black dwarf was seen making his way through the midst of it. ‘What do you want with me, soldier?’ said he. ‘I have no business with you,’ answered he. But the dwarf said, ‘I am bound to serve you in every thing, as lord and master of the blue light.’ ‘Then first of all be so good as to help me out of this well.’ No sooner said than done: the dwarf took him by the hand and drew him up, and the blue light of course with him. ‘Now do me another piece of kindness,’ said the soldier; ‘pray let that old lady take my place in the well.’ When the dwarf had done this, and lodged the witch safely at the bottom, they began to ransack her treasures and the soldier made bold to carry off as much of her gold and silver as he well could. Then the dwarf said, ‘If you should chance at any time to want me, you have nothing to do but to light your pipe at the blue light, and I will soon be with you.’

  The soldier was not a little pleased at his good luck, and went to the best inn in the first town he came to, and ordered some fine clothes to be made, and a handsome room to be got ready for him. When all was ready, he called his little man to him, and said, ‘The king sent me away penniless, and left me to hunger and want: I have a mind to show him that it is my turn to be master now; so bring me his daughter here this evening, that she may wait upon me, and do what I bid her.’ ‘That is rather a dangerous task,’ said the dwarf. But away he went, took the princess out of her bed, fast asleep as she was, and brought her to the soldier.

  Very early in the morning he carried her back: and as soon as she saw her father, she said, ‘I had a strange dream last night: I thought I was carried away through the air to a soldier’s house, and there I waited upon him as his servant.’ Then the king wondered greatly at such a story; but told her to make a hole in her pocket and fill it with peas, so that if it were really as she said, and the whole was not a dream, the peas might fall out in the streets as she passed through, and leave a clue to tell whither she had been taken. She did so; but the dwarf had heard the king’s plot; and when evening came, and the soldier said he must bring him the princess again, he strewed peas over several of the streets, so that the few that fell from her pocket were not known from the others; and the people amused themselves all the next day picking up peas, and wondering where so many came from.

  When the princess told her father what had happened to her the second time, he said, ‘Take one of your shoes with you, and hide it in the room you are taken to.’ The dwarf heard this also; and when the soldier told him to bring the king’s daughter again, he said, ‘I cannot save you this time; it will be an unlucky thing for you if you are found out – as I think you will.’ But the soldier would have his own way. ‘Then you must take care and make the best of your way out of the city gate very early in the morning,’ said the dwarf. The princess kept one shoe on as her father bid her, and hid it in the soldier’s room: and when she got back to her father, he ordered it to be sought for all over the town; and at last it was found where she had hid it. The soldier had run away, it is true; but he had been too slow, and was soon caught and thrown into a strong prison, and loaded with chains: – what was worse, in the hurry of his flight, he had left behind his great treasure the blue light and all his gold, and had nothing left in his pocket but one poor ducat.

  As he was standing very sorrowful at the prison grating, he saw one of his comrades, and calling out to him said, ‘If you will bring me a little bundle I left in the inn, I will give you a ducat.’ His comrade thought this very good pay for such a job: so he went away, and soon came back bringing the blue light and the gold. Then the prisoner soon lit his pipe: up rose the smoke, and with it came his old friend the little dwarf. ‘Do not fear, master,’ said he: ‘keep up your heart at your trial, and leave everything to take its course; – only mind to take the blue light with you.’ The trial soon came on; the matter was sifted to the bottom; the prisoner found guilty, and his doom passed: – he was ordered to be hung forthwith on the gallows-tree.

  But as he was led out, he said he had one favour to beg of the king. ‘What is it?’ said his majesty. ‘That you will deign to let me smoke one pipe on the road.’ ‘Two, if you like,’ said the king. Then he lit his pipe at the blue light, and the black dwarf was before him in a moment. ‘Be so good as to kill, slay, or put to flight all these people,’ said the soldier: ‘and as for the king, you may cut him into three pieces.’ Then the dwarf began to lay about him, and soon got rid of the crowd around: but the king begged hard for mercy; and, to save his life, agreed to let the soldier have the princess for his wife, and to leave the kingdom to him when he died.

  Ashputtel

  The wife of a rich man fell sick: and when she felt that her end drew nigh, she called her only daughter to her bedside, and said, ‘Always be a good girl, and I will look down from heaven and watch over you.’ Soon afterwards she shut her eyes and died, and was buried in the garden; and the little girl went every day to her grave and wept, and was always good and kind to all about her. And the snow spread a beautiful white covering over the grave; but by the time the sun had melted it away, again her father had married another wife. This new wife had two daughters of her own, that she brought home with her: they were fair in face, but foul at heart, and it was now a sorry time for the poor little girl. ‘What does the good-for-nothing want in the parlour?’ said they; ‘they who would eat bread should first earn it; away with the kitchen maid!’ Then they took away her fine clothes, and gave her an old grey frock to
put on, and laughed at her and turned her into the kitchen.

  There she was forced to do hard work; to rise early before day-light, to bring the water, to make the fire, to cook and to wash. Besides that, the sisters plagued her in all sorts of ways and laughed at her. In the evening when she was tired she had no bed to lie down on, but was made to lie by the hearth among the ashes; and then, as she was of course always dusty and dirty, they called her Ashputtel.

  It happened once that the father was going to the fair, and asked his wife’s daughters what he should bring them. ‘Fine clothes,’ said the first; ‘Pearls and diamonds,’ cried the second. ‘Now, child,’ said he to his own daughter, ‘what will you have?’ ‘The first sprig, dear father, that rubs against your hat on your way home,’ said she. Then he bought for the two first the fine clothes and pearls and diamonds they had asked for: and on his way home as he rode through a green copse, a spring of hazel brushed against him, and almost pushed off his hat: so he broke it off and brought it away; and when he got home he gave it to his daughter. Then she took it and went to her mother’s grave and planted it there, and cried so much that it was watered with her tears; and there it grew and became a fine tree. Three times every day she went to it and wept; and soon a little bird came and built its nest upon the tree, and talked with her, and watched over her, and brought her whatever she wished for.

  Now it happened that the king of the land held a feast which was to last three days, and out of those who came to it his son was to choose a bride for himself: and Ashputtel’s two sisters were asked to come. So they called her up, and said, ‘Now, comb our hair, brush our shoes, and tie our sashes for us, for we are going to dance at the king’s feast.’ Then she did as she was told, but when all was done she could not help crying, for she thought to herself, she should have liked to go to the dance too; and at last she begged her mother very hard to let her go. ‘You! Ashputtel?’ said she; ‘you who have nothing to wear, no clothes at all, and who cannot even dance – you want to go to the ball?’ And when she kept on begging, – to get rid of her, she said at last, ‘I will throw this basin-full of peas into the ash heap, and if you have picked them all out in two hours’ time you shall go to the feast too.’ Then she threw the peas into the ashes: but the little maiden ran out at the back door into the garden, and cried out –

  ‘Hither, hither, through the sky,

  Turtle-doves and linnets, fly!

  Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay,

  Hither, hither, haste away!

  One and all, come help me quick,

  Haste ye, haste ye, – pick, pick, pick!’

  Then first came two white doves flying in at the kitchen window; and next came two turtle-doves; and after them all the little birds under heaven came chirping and fluttering in, and flew down into the ashes: and the little doves stooped their heads down and set to work, pick, pick, pick; and then the others began to pick, pick, pick; and picked out all the good grain and put it in a dish, and left the ashes. At the end of one hour the work was done, and all flew out again at the windows. Then she brought the dish to her mother, overjoyed at the thought that now she should go to the wedding. But she said, ‘No, no! you slut, you have no clothes and cannot dance, you shall not go.’ And when Ashputtel begged very hard to go, she said, ‘If you can in one hour’s time pick two of those dishes of peas out of the ashes, you shall go too.’ And thus she thought she should at last get rid of her. So she shook two dishes of peas into the ashes; but the little maiden went out into the garden at the back of the house, and cried out as before –

  ‘Hither, hither, through the sky,

  Turtle-doves and linnets, fly!

  Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay,

  Hither, hither, haste away!

  One and all, come help me quick,

  Haste ye, haste ye, – pick, pick, pick!’

  Then first came two white doves in at the kitchen window; and next came the turtle-doves; and after them all the little birds under heaven came chirping and hopping about, and flew down about the ashes: and the little doves put their heads down and set to work, pick, pick, pick; and then the others began pick, pick, pick; and they put all the good grain into the dishes, and left all the ashes. Before half an hour’s time all was done, and out they flew again. And then Ashputtel took the dishes to her mother, rejoicing to think that she should now go to the ball. But her mother said, ‘It is all of no use, you cannot go; you have no clothes, and cannot dance, and you would only put us to shame;’ and off she went with her two daughters to the feast.

  Now when all were gone, and nobody left at home, Ashputtel went sorrowfully and sat down under the hazel-tree, and cried out –

  ‘Shake, shake, hazel-tree,

  Gold and silver over me!’

  Then her friend the bird flew out of the tree and brought a gold and silver dress for her, and slippers of spangled silk: and she put them on, and followed her sisters to the feast. But they did not know her, and thought it must be some strange princess, she looked so fine and beautiful in her rich clothes; and they never once thought of Ashputtel, but took for granted that she was safe at home in the dirt.

  The king’s son soon came up to her, and took her by the hand and danced with her and no one else: and he never left her hand; but when any one else came to ask her to dance, he said, ‘This lady is dancing with me.’ Thus they danced till a late hour of the night; and then she wanted to go home: and the king’s son said, ‘I shall go and take care of you to your home;’ for he wanted to see where the beautiful maid lived. But she slipped away from him unawares, and ran off towards home, and the prince followed her; but she jumped up into the pigeon-house and shut the door. Then he waited till her father came home, and told him that the unknown maiden who had been at the feast had hid herself in the pigeon-house. But when they had broken open the door they found no one within; and as they came back into the house, Ashputtel lay, as she always did, in her dirty frock by the ashes, and her dim little lamp burnt in the chimney: for she had run as quickly as she could through the pigeon-house and on to the hazel-tree, and had there taken off her beautiful clothes, and laid them beneath the tree, that the bird might carry them away, and had seated herself amid the ashes again in her little grey frock.

  The next day when the feast was again held, and her father, mother, and sisters were gone, Ashputtel went to the hazel-tree, and said –

  ‘Shake, shake, hazel-tree,

  Gold and silver over me!’

  And the bird came and brought a still finer dress than the one she had worn the day before. And when she came in it to the ball, every one wondered at her beauty: but the king’s son, who was waiting for her, took her by the hand, and danced with her; and when any one asked her to dance, he said as before, ‘This lady is dancing with me.’ When night came she wanted to go home; and the king’s son followed her as before, that he might see into what house she went: but she sprang away from him all at once into the garden behind her father’s house. In this garden stood a fine large pear-tree full of ripe fruit; and Ashputtel not knowing where to hide herself jumped up into it without being seen. Then the king’s son could not find out where she was gone, but waited till her father came home, and said to him, ‘The unknown lady who danced with me has slipped away, and I think she must have sprung into the pear-tree.’ The father thought to himself, ‘Can it be Ashputtel?’ So he ordered an axe to be brought; and they cut down the tree, but found no one upon it. And when they came back into the kitchen, there lay Ashputtel in the ashes as usual; for she had slipped down on the other side of the tree, and carried her beautiful clothes back to the bird at the hazel-tree, and then put on her little grey frock.

  The third day, when her father and mother and sisters were gone, she went again into the garden, and said –

  ‘Shake, shake, hazel-tree,

  Gold and silver over me!’

  Then her kind friend the bi
rd brought a dress still finer than the former one, and slippers which were all of gold: so that when she came to the feast no one knew what to say for wonder at her beauty: and the king’s son danced with her alone; and when any one else asked her to dance, he said, ‘This lady is my partner.’ Now when night came she wanted to go home; and the king’s son would go with her, and said to himself, ‘I will not lose her this time;’ but however she managed to slip away from him, though in such a hurry that she dropped her left golden slipper upon the stairs.

  So the prince took the shoe, and went the next day to the king his father, and said, ‘I will take for my wife the lady that this golden slipper fits.’ Then both the sisters were overjoyed to hear this; for they had beautiful feet, and had no doubt that they could wear the golden slipper. The eldest went first into the room where the slipper was and wanted to try it on, and the mother stood by. But her great toe could not go into it, and the shoe was altogether much too small for her. Then the mother gave her a knife, and said, ‘Never mind, cut it off; when you are queen you will not care about toes, you will not want to go on foot.’ So the silly girl cut her great toe off, and squeezed the shoe on, and went to the king’s son. Then he took her for his bride, and set her beside him on his horse and rode away with her.

  But on their way home they had to pass by the hazel-tree that Ashputtel had planted, and there sat a little dove on the branch singing –

  ‘Back again! back again! look to the shoe!

  The shoe is too small, and not made for you!

  Prince! prince! look again for thy bride,

  For she’s not the true one that sits by thy side.’