Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

by Hans Christian Andersen

  “And what should I do down in the tree?” asked the soldier.

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” said the soldier, “but what am I to give you, you old hag? For you want something, I imagine.”

  “No,” said the hag, “I don’t want a single penny. Just bring me an old tinderbox that my grandmother forgot the last time she was down there.”

  “Very well! Let’s wrap that rope around my waist,” said the soldier.

  “Here it is,” said the hag, “and here’s my blue-checkered apron.”

  Then the soldier climbed into the tree, slid down the hole, and found himself, as the hag had said, in the big passageway, where hundreds of lamps were burning.

  He opened the first door. Oh! There sat the dog with eyes as big as teacups, glaring at him.

  “You’re a fine fellow!” said the soldier, and he set him on the hag’s apron and took as many copper coins as he could pack into his pockets. Then he closed the chest, put the dog back, and went into the second room. Yikes! There sat the dog with eyes as big as mill wheels.

  “Stop staring at me so much!” said the soldier. “You might hurt your eyes!” and he set the dog on the hag’s apron. When he saw so many silver coins in the chest, he threw away the copper money and filled his pockets and his knapsack with the silver coins. Then he went into the third room!—Oh, the dog was so repulsive! It really did have two eyes as big as the Round Tower that rolled around in its head like wheels!

  “Good evening,” said the soldier and tipped his cap, for he had never seen such a dog before. But after he had looked at him a little, he thought, enough of that! He lifted him down to the floor and opened up the chest. Oh, bless me! How much gold there was! He could buy all of Copenhagen and all the pastry-women’s candied pigs, all the tin soldiers, riding crops and rocking horses there were in the world! Now there was money!—Then the soldier threw away all the silver coins he had poured into his pockets and knapsack and took gold instead. All his pockets, the knapsack, his cap and boots were so full that he could barely walk! Now he had money! He put the dog on the chest, locked the door and called up through the tree, “Hoist me up now, old hag!”

  There sat the dog with eyes as big as teacups, glaring at him.

  “Do you have the tinderbox with you?” asked the hag.

  “Oh, that’s right,” said the soldier, “I’d completely forgotten it,” and he went and got it. The hag hoisted him up, and there he was once again standing on the road with his pockets, boots, knapsack and cap full of money.

  “What do you want that tinderbox for?” asked the soldier.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” said the hag, “Now that you’ve got your money, just give me the tinderbox!”

  “Nothing doing!” said the soldier. “Tell me right now what you want it for, or I’ll pull out my sword and chop off your head!”

  “No,” said the hag.

  So the soldier chopped her head off, and there she lay. But he wrapped all his money up in her apron, stuck it into his knapsack on his back, put the tinderbox in his pocket, and walked into town.

  It was a lovely town, and he went to the very best inn, asked for the very best rooms, and ordered his most favorite foods because now he was rich.

  The servant who polished his boots thought that they were rather funny old boots for such a rich man to have, but the soldier hadn’t bought new ones yet. The next day he did indeed buy boots and beautiful clothes! Now the soldier was a distinguished gentleman, and the people told him all about the fine things to be found in their town, and about their king, and what a lovely princess his daughter was.

  “Where can I see her?” asked the soldier.

  “You can’t see her at all,” they all answered. “She lives in a big copper castle, surrounded by walls and towers. No one but the king is allowed to go in and out of there, because he was told by a fortuneteller that the princess is going to marry a common soldier, and the king can’t bear the thought that this might happen.”

  “I would like to see her though!” thought the soldier, but of course he wouldn’t be allowed to do that.

  Now he lived merrily, went to the theater, took drives in the king’s garden, and gave away lots of money to the poor, which was kind of him. He knew from the old days how bad it was not to have a cent to one’s name.—Now he was rich, had fine clothes, and made many friends. Every one said that he was a nice fellow, a proper cavalier, and the soldier liked this very much. But since he gave away money every day, and did not have any coming in, he finally had only two coins left and had to move away from the handsome rooms where he had lived, into a tiny little chamber, right beneath the roof, and had to brush his boots himself and sew them up with a darning needle, and none of his friends came to see him because there were too many steps to climb.

  One evening it became very dark, and he couldn’t even buy himself a candle. But then he remembered there was a little stump of one in the tinderbox that the hag had asked him to take from the hollow tree. So he took out the tinderbox and the candle stump, and just as he struck the flint, causing sparks to fly from the stone, the door sprang open, and the dog that had eyes as big as teacups and whom he had seen beneath the tree, stood in front of him and said, “What does my master command?”

  “What’s this!” cried the soldier. “This is certainly an interesting tinderbox if it will give me what I want like this! Get me some money,” he said to the dog, and presto it was gone! Then presto it returned and held a big bag full of coins in its mouth.

  Now the soldier understood what a wonderful tinderbox it was. If he struck once, the dog who sat on the chest with copper coins came. If he struck twice, the dog who had silver money appeared, and if he struck three times, the one with the gold coins came.-The soldier moved back into his handsome rooms and wore beautiful clothes once again. Suddenly all his friends recognized him, and once more they were so terribly fond of him.

  Then one day he thought: it’s really odd that no one gets to see the princess. She’s supposed to be so beautiful, they all say, but what good is that when she always sits inside the big copper castle with all the towers?—Can’t I get to see her somehow? —Where’s my tinderbox! And then he struck the flint, and presto the dog with eyes as big as teacups came.

  “Even though it’s the middle of the night,” the soldier remarked, “I very much want to see the princess, just for a little moment!”

  The dog was out the door at once, and before the soldier could think about it, the dog was back again with the princess. She sat sleeping on the dog’s back and was so lovely that it was clear for all to see that she was a real princess. The soldier couldn’t help himself. He had to kiss her, for he was a true soldier.

  Then the dog ran back with the princess, but when morning came, and the king and queen were having tea, the princess said that she was disturbed by a strange dream that she had in the night about a dog and a soldier. She had ridden on the dog, and the soldier had kissed her.

  “That’s quite some story!” said the queen.

  So one of the old ladies-in-waiting was ordered to keep watch over the princess the next night to see if it was a real dream, or what it could be.

  The soldier longed so frightfully to see the lovely princess again and had the dog go to her in the night. The dog took her and ran as fast as he could, but the old lady-in-waiting put on high boots and ran just as fast after them. When she saw that they disappeared into a big house, she thought, “Now I know where it is,” and she marked a large cross on the door with a piece of chalk. Then she hurried home and went to bed, and the dog also came back with the princess. When he saw the cross on the door where the soldier lived, however, he took a piece of chalk and marked crosses on all the doors in the whole town, and that was smart of him because now the lady-in-waiting could not find the right door. Indeed, there were crosses on all of them.

  Early in the morning the king and queen, the old lady-in-waiting, and all the officers came to see where the princess had been.r />
  “There it is!” said the king, when he saw the first door with a cross on it.

  “No, there it is, my dear,” said the queen, who saw another door with a cross on it.

  “But there’s one, and there’s one!” they all cried out. Wherever they looked, there were crosses on the doors. So then they realized that there was no use in searching further.

  However, the queen was a very wise woman, who could do more than just ride in a coach. She took her big golden scissors, cut a large piece of silk into pieces, and sewed a lovely little bag. She filled it with fine little grains of buckwheat, tied it to the back of the princess, and when that was done, she cut a little hole in the bag, so the grains could sprinkle out wherever the princess would go.

  During the night the dog came again, took the princess on his back, and ran with her to the soldier, who was so very fond of her, and dearly wished he were a prince so that he might marry her.

  When the dog ran back to the castle with the princess, he failed to notice that the grain had spilled out all the way from the castle to the soldier’s window. In the morning the king and queen could easily see where their daughter had been, and they ordered the soldier to be arrested and put into prison.

  There he sat. Oh, how dark and boring it was! And then they told him: “Tomorrow you’ll be hanged.” That wasn’t pleasant to hear. Moreover, he had forgotten his tinderbox which he had left at the inn. In the morning, through the bars of the little window, he could see people hurrying from all parts of the town to see him hanged. He heard the drums and saw the soldiers marching. All the people were running along, and among them was also a shoemaker’s boy wearing a leather apron and slippers. He was running so fast that one of his slippers flew off and landed right by the wall where the soldier was peering through the iron bars.

  “Hey, boy! Don’t be in such a hurry,” the soldier told him. “Nothing will happen until I get there! So, if you’ll run to where I live and bring me my tinderbox, I’ll give you four silver coins. But don’t let the grass grow under your feet.”

  The shoemaker’s boy was eager to get the four silver coins and rushed off to fetch the tinderbox. He gave it to the soldier, and—Well, listen to what happened!

  Outside the town a big gallows had been built, and all around stood the soldiers and thousands of people. The king and queen sat on a beautiful throne right opposite the judge and the entire council.

  The soldier was already standing up on the ladder, but when they wanted to place the noose around his neck, he said that a condemned man was always granted a last wish before his punishment. He wanted so very much to smoke his pipe—it would be the last smoke he would get in this world.

  The king didn’t want to deny him this wish, and so the soldier took his tinderbox and struck the flint, one, two, three! And there stood all three dogs: the one with eyes like teacups, the one with eyes like mill wheels, and the one who had eyes as big as the Round Tower!

  “Help me!” the soldier cried out. “Don’t let them hang me!”

  Immediately the dogs tore into the judges and all the councilors. They grabbed some by their legs and some by their noses and threw them high up into the air so that they fell down and were dashed to pieces.

  “Not me!” screamed the king, but the largest dog took both him and the queen and threw them after all the others. Now the soldiers became frightened, and all the people shouted, “Little soldier, you will be our king and marry the beautiful princess!”

  Then they placed the soldier in the king’s coach, and all three dogs danced in front and roared “hurrah!” and boys whistled through their fingers, and the soldiers presented arms. The princess came out of the copper castle and became the queen and was very pleased with that! The wedding lasted for eight days, and the dogs sat at the table in wide-eyed wonder.

  NOTE

  1. Astronomical observatory, 118 feet tall, in the heart of Copenhagen. King Christian IV laid the first stone in 1637; the observatory was completed in 1642.

  LITTLE CLAUS AND BIG CLAUS

  IN THIS ONE TOWN there were two men who both had the same name. Both were called Claus, but one of the men owned four horses, and the other had only one horse. In order to distinguish between them, they called the one who had four horses Big Claus, and the one who had only one horse, Little Claus. Now listen to what happened, for it’s quite a story!

  All week long Little Claus had to plow for Big Claus and lend him his only horse. Then Big Claus paid him back with all his horses, but only one day a week, and that was on Sunday. Whew! How Little Claus cracked the whip over all five horses! After all, they were as good as his on that one day. The sun shone so brightly, and the church bells chimed for services. People were all dressed up and walked with their psalm books under their arms to hear the pastor preach. They all looked at Little Claus, plowing with his five horses, and he was so pleased with himself that he cracked the whip again and called out, “Giddy-up, all my horses!”

  “You mustn’t say that,” said Big Claus. “Only one horse is yours, you know.”

  But when some more people went by on their way to church, Little Claus forgot he wasn’t supposed to say that and yelled, “Giddy-up, all my horses!”

  “Now cut that out!” said Big Claus. “If you say that one more time, I’ll hit your horse on the head so it drops dead on the spot! It’ll be all over for him.”

  “I certainly won’t say it again,” promised Little Claus, but then when people walked by again and nodded to him, he thought having five horses to plow his field was so impressive that he cracked the whip and called out, “Giddy-up, all my horses!”

  “I’ll giddy-up your horse!” said Big Claus, and took his tethering mallet and whacked Little Claus’ only horse on the head so it fell down quite dead.

  “Oh! Now I don’t have a horse anymore,” said Little Claus and started to cry. Afterwards he skinned the horse, dried the skin in the wind, put it in a bag on his shoulder, and headed into town to sell his horse-skin.

  It was a long way to walk. He had to go through a big dark forest, and a dreadful storm arose. He became completely lost, and before he found the right road, evening came, and it was too far to get to town or home again before nightfall.

  There was a big farm right by the road. The windows were shuttered, but light could and did shine out the top. “I imagine they will let me stay here overnight,” thought Little Claus, and went up and knocked on the door.

  The farmer’s wife opened the door, but when she heard what he wanted, she told him to leave because her husband wasn’t home, and she wouldn’t let a stranger in.

  “Well then, I’ll have to sleep outside,” Little Claus said, and the farmer’s wife shut the door on him.

  Close by was a big haystack, and between that and the house was a little shed with a flat thatched roof.

  “That’s where I’ll sleep!” said Little Claus when he saw the roof. “That’s a lovely bed indeed. I’m sure the stork won’t fly down and bite my legs.” You see, there was a live stork up on the roof, where he had his nest.

  So Little Claus climbed up onto the shed, where he lay and twisted about to get comfortable. The wooden shutters on the windows didn’t close completely at the top, and so he could look right into the room. There was a big table set with wine, a roast, and such a lovely fish. Only the farmer’s wife and the sexton were at the table, and she poured wine for him, and he stuffed himself with fish because that was something he really liked.

  “Oh, if only I could have a bite of that!” Little Claus said and stretched his head way over by the window. God, what a beautiful cake he could see there! Here was luxury for sure!

  Then he heard someone riding towards the house on the road. It was the woman’s husband, who was coming home. He was a kind man, but he had the most remarkable malady—he could not tolerate the sight of sextons. If a sexton came into view, he became absolutely furious. And that was why the sexton had come to visit the woman when he knew the farmer was not at home, an
d why the good woman treated him to all the best food she had in the house. When they heard the husband coming, they became very frightened, and the woman told the sexton to get into a big empty chest in the corner. He did that at once because he knew, of course, that the poor man couldn’t tolerate the sight of sextons. The farmer’s wife hurried to hide the scrumptious food and wine in the oven, because if the husband saw it, he would certainly have asked what the meaning of this was.

  Up on the shed, Little Claus sighed, “Oh well,” when he saw all the good food disappear.

  “Is there somebody up there?” asked the farmer and peered up at Little Claus. “What are you doing up there? Come down into the house instead.”

  So then Little Claus explained how he had gotten lost and asked if he could spend the night.

  “Sure!” the farmer said. “But first we’ll have a bite to eat!”

  The woman welcomed them both warmly, set the long table, and gave them a big bowl of porridge. The farmer was hungry and ate with a good appetite, but Little Claus couldn’t help but think about the lovely roast, fish, and cake that he knew was in the oven.

  He had put the bag with his horse-skin under the table by his feet, because we know, of course, that’s why he left home—to sell it in town. The porridge didn’t taste very good to him, and so he stepped on the bag, and the dry skin in the sack creaked pretty loudly.