by Jacob Grimm
The Cunning Little Tailor
THERE WAS once upon a time a princess who was extremely proud. If a wooer came she gave him some riddle to guess, and if he could not guess it, he was sent contemptuously away. She let it be made known also that whosoever solved her riddle should marry her, let him be who he might. At length, three tailors fell in with each other, the two eldest of whom thought they had done so many dexterous jobs of work successfully that they could not fail to succeed in this also; the third was a little, useless harum-scarum, who did not even know his trade, but thought he must have some luck in this venture, for where else was it to come from? Then the two others said to him: “Just stay at home; you cannot do much with your little understanding.” The little tailor, however, did not let himself be discouraged, and said he had set his mind to work on this for once, and he would manage well enough, and he went forth as if the whole world were his.
They all three announced themselves to the princess, and said she was to propound her riddle to them, and that the right persons were now come, who had understandings so fine that they could be threaded in a needle. Then said the princess: “I have two kinds of hair on my head, of what color is it?” “If that be all,” said the first, “it must be black and white, like the cloth which is called ‘pepper and salt’.” The princess said: “Wrongly guessed; let the second answer.” Then said the second: “If it be not black and white, then it is brown and red, like my father’s Sunday coat.” “Wrongly guessed,” said the princess, “let the third give the answer for I see very well he knows it for certain.” Then the little tailor stepped boldly forth and said: “The princess has a silver and a golden hair on her head, and those are the two different colors.” When the princess heard that, she turned pale and nearly fell down with terror, for the little tailor had guessed her riddle, and she had firmly believed that no man on earth could discover it. When her courage returned she said: “You have not won me yet by that; there is still something else that you must do. Below, in the stable, is a bear with which you shall pass the night, and when I get up in the morning if you are still alive, you shall marry me.” She expected, however, she would thus get rid of the tailor, for the bear had never yet left anyone alive who had fallen into his clutches. The little tailor did not let himself be frightened away, but was quite delighted, and said: “Boldly ventured is half won.”
So when the evening came, our little tailor was taken down to the bear. The bear was about to set on the little fellow at once, and give him a hearty welcome with his paws. “Softly, softly,” said the little tailor, “I will soon make you quiet.” Then quite composedly, and as if he had no anxiety in the world, he took some nuts out of his pocket, cracked them, and ate the kernels. When the bear saw that, he was seized with a desire to have some nuts too. The tailor felt in his pockets, and reached him a handful; they were, however, not nuts, but pebbles. The bear put them in his mouth, but could get nothing out of them, let him bite as he would. “Eh!” thought he, “what a stupid blockhead am I! I cannot even crack a nut!” and then he said to the tailor: “Here, crack me the nuts.” “There, see what a stupid fellow you are!” said the little tailor, “to have such a great mouth, and not be able to crack a small nut!” Then he took the pebble and nimbly put a nut in his mouth in the place of it, and crack, it was in two! “I must try the thing again,” said the bear; “when I watch you, I then think I ought to be able to do it too.” So the tailor once more gave him a pebble, and the bear tried and tried to bite into it with all the strength of his body. But even you do not believe that he managed it. When that was over, the tailor took out a violin from beneath his coat, and played something to himself. When the bear heard the music, he could not help beginning to dance, and when he had danced a while, the thing pleased him so well that he said to the little tailor: “Listen, is it difficult to fiddle?” “Easy enough for a child. Look, with the left hand I lay my fingers on it, and with the right I stroke it with the bow, and then it goes merrily, hop sa sa vivallalera!” “So,” said the bear; “fiddling is a thing I should like to learn too, that I might dance whenever I felt like it. What do you think of that? Will you give me lessons?” “With all my heart,” said the tailor, “if you have a talent for it. But just let me see your claws, they are terribly long, I must cut your nails a little.” Then a vise was brought, and the bear put his claws in it, and the little tailor screwed it tight, and said: “Now wait until I come with the scissors,” and he let the bear growl as he liked, and lay down in the corner on a bundle of straw, and fell asleep.
When the princess heard the bear growling so fiercely during the night, she believed nothing else but that he was growling for joy, and had made an end of the tailor. In the morning she arose careless and happy, but when she peeped into the stable, the tailor stood gaily before her, and was as healthy as a fish in water. Now she could not say another word against the wedding because she had given a promise before everyone, and the King ordered a carriage to be brought in which she was to drive to church with the tailor, and there she was to be married. When they had climbed into the carriage, the two other tailors, who had false hearts and envied him his good fortune, went into the stable and unscrewed the bear again. The bear in great fury ran after the carriage. The princess heard him snorting and growling; she was terrified, and she cried: “Ah, the bear is behind us and wants to get you!” The tailor was quick and stood on his head, stuck his legs out of the window, and cried: “Do you see the vise? If you do not be off you shall be put into it again.” When the bear saw that, he turned round and ran away. The tailor drove quietly to church, and the princess was married to him at once, and he lived with her as happy as a woodlark. Whosoever does not believe this, must pay a taler.
The Bright Sun Brings It to Light
A TAILOR’S APPRENTICE was traveling about the world in search of work, and at one time he could find none, and his poverty was so great that he had not a farthing to live on. Presently he met a Jew on the road, and as he thought he would have a great deal of money about him, the tailor thrust God out of his heart, fell on the Jew, and said: “Give me your money, or I will strike you dead.” Then said the Jew: “Grant me my life, I have no money but eight farthings.” But the tailor said: “Money you have; and it shall be produced,” and used violence and beat him until he was near death. And when the Jew was dying, the last words he said were: “The bright sun will bring it to light,” and thereupon he died. The tailor’s apprentice felt in his pockets and sought for money, but he found nothing but eight farthings, as the Jew had said. Then he took him up and carried him behind a clump of trees, and went onwards to seek work. After he had traveled about a long while, he found work in a town with a master who had a pretty daughter, with whom he fell in love, and he married her, and lived in good and happy wedlock.
After a long time when he and his wife had two children, the wife’s father and mother died, and the young people kept house alone. One morning, when the husband was sitting on the table before the window, his wife brought him his coffee, and when he had poured it out into the saucer, and was just going to drink, the sun shone on it and the reflection gleamed hither and thither on the wall above, and made circles on it. Then the tailor looked up and said: “Yes, it would like very much to bring it to light, and cannot!” The woman said: “O, dear husband, and what is that, then? What do you mean by that?” He answered: “I must not tell you.” But she said: “If you love me, you must tell me,” and used her most affectionate words, and said that no one should ever know it, and left him no rest. Then he told her how years ago, when he was traveling about seeking work and quite worn out and penniless, he had killed a Jew, and that in the last agonies of death, the Jew had spoken the words: “The bright sun will bring it to light.” And now, the sun had just wanted to bring it to light, and had gleamed and made circles on the wall, but had not been able to do it. After this, he again charged her particularly never to tell this, or he would lose his life, and she did promise. However, when he had sat down to work again, s
he went to her great friend and confided the story to her, and asked her never to repeat it to any human being, but before three days were over, the whole town knew it, and the tailor was brought to trial, and condemned. And thus, after all, the bright sun did bring it to light.
The Blue Light
THERE WAS once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the King faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no longer because of the many wounds which he had received. The King said to him: “You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and you will not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who renders me service for them.” Then the soldier did not know how to earn a living, went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until in the evening he entered a forest. When darkness came on, he saw a light, which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a witch. “Do give me one night’s lodging, and a little to eat and drink,” said he to her, “or I shall starve.” “Oho!” she answered, “who gives anything to a run-away soldier? Yet will I be compassionate, and take you in, if you will do what I wish.” “What do you wish?” said the soldier. “That you should dig all round my garden for me, tomorrow.” The soldier consented, and next day labored with all his strength, but could not finish it by the evening. “I see well enough,” said the witch, “that you can do no more today, but I will keep you yet another night, in payment for which you must tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small.” The soldier spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch proposed that he should stay one night more. “Tomorrow, you shall only do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind my house, there is an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and never goes out, and you shall bring it up again.” Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a basket. He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him up again. She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from him. “No,” said he, perceiving her evil intention, “I will not give you the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground.” The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the well, and went away.
The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the blue light went on burning, but of what use was that to him? He saw very well that he could not escape death. He sat for a while very sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his tobacco pipe, which was still half full. “This shall be my last pleasure,” thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and began to smoke. When the smoke had circled about the cavern, suddenly a little black dwarf stood before him, and said: “Lord, what are your commands?” “What my commands are?” replied the soldier, quite astonished. “I must do everything you bid me,” said the little man. “Good,” said the soldier; “then in the first place help me out of this well.” The little man took him by the hand, and led him through an underground passage, but he did not forget to take the blue light with him. On the way the dwarf showed him the treasures which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took as much gold as he could carry. When he was above, he said to the little man: “Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before the judge.” In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild tom-cat and screaming frightfully. Nor was it long before the little man re-appeared. “It is all done,” said he, “and the witch is already hanging on the gallows. What further commands has my lord?” inquired the dwarf. “At this moment, none,” answered the soldier; “you can return home, only be at hand immediately, if I summon you.” “Nothing more is needed than that you should light your pipe at the blue light, and I will appear before you at once.” Thereupon he vanished from his sight.
The soldier returned to the town from which he had come. He went to the best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the landlord furnish him a room as handsome as possible. When it was ready and the soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the little black mannikin and said: “I have served the King faithfully, but he has dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to take my revenge.” “What am I to do?” asked the little man. “Late at night, when the King’s daughter is in bed, bring her here in her sleep, she shall do servant’s work for me.” The mannikin said: “That is an easy thing for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you, for if it is discovered, you will fare ill.” When twelve o’clock had struck, the door sprang open, and the mannikin carried in the princess. “Aha! are you there?” cried the soldier, “get to your work at once! Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber.” When she had done this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he stretched out his feet and said: “Pull off my boots,” and then he threw them in her face, and made her pick them up again, and clean and brighten them. She, however, did everything he bade her, without opposition, silently and with half-shut eyes. When the first cock crowed, the mannikin carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her in her bed.
Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told him that she had had a very strange dream. “I was carried through the streets with the rapidity of lightning,” said she, “and taken into a soldier’s room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant, sweep his room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It was only a dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done everything.” “The dream may have been true,” said the King, “I will give you a piece of advice. Fill your pocket full of peas, and make a small hole in the pocket, and then if you are carried away again, they will fall out and leave a track in the streets.” But unseen by the King, the mannikin was standing beside him when he said that, and heard all. At night when the sleeping princess was again carried through the streets, some peas certainly did fall out of her pocket, but they made no track, for the crafty mannikin had just before scattered peas in every street there was. And again the princess was compelled to do servant’s work until cock-crow.
Next morning the King sent his people out to seek the track, but it was all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting, picking up peas, and saying: “It must have rained peas, last night.” “We must think of something else,” said the King; “keep your shoes on when you go to bed, and before you come back from the place where you are taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it.” The black mannikin heard this plot, and at night when the soldier again ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told him that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and that if the shoe were found in the soldier’s house it would go badly with him. “Do what I bid you,” replied the soldier, and again this third night the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but before she went away, she hid her shoe under the bed.
Next morning the King had the entire town searched for his daughter’s shoe. It was found at the soldier’s, and the soldier himself, who at the entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought back, and thrown into prison. In his flight he had forgotten the most valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had only one ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was standing at the window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of his comrades passing by. The soldier tapped at the pane of glass, and when this man came up, said to him: “Be so kind as to fetch me the small bundle I have left lying in the inn, and I will give you a ducat for doing it.” His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted. As soon as the soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the black mannikin. “Have no fear,” said the latter to his master. “Go wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take the blue light with you.” Next day the soldier was tried, and though he had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death. When he was led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the King. “What is it?” asked the King. “That I may smoke one more pipe on my way.” “You may smoke three,” answered the King, “but do not imagine that I will spare your life.” Then the soldier
pulled out his pipe and lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke had ascended, the mannikin was there with a small cudgel in his hand, and said: “What does my lord command?” “Strike down to earth that false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the King who has treated me so ill.” Then the mannikin fell on them like lightning, darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched by his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again. The King was terrified; he threw himself on the soldier’s mercy, and merely to be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his own, and his daughter to wife.
The Willful Child
ONCE UPON a time there was a child who was willful, and I would not do what her mother wished. For this reason God had no pleasure in her, and let her become ill, and no doctor could do her any good, and in a short time she lay on her death-bed. When she had been lowered into her grave, and the earth was spread over her, all at once her arm came out again, and stretched upwards, and when they had put it in and spread fresh earth over it, it was all to no purpose, for the arm always came out again. Then the mother herself was obliged to go to the grave, and strike the arm with a rod, and when she had done that, it was drawn in, and then at last the child had rest beneath the ground.
The Three Army Surgeons
THREE ARMY surgeons who thought they knew their art perfectly, were traveling about the world, and they came to an inn where they wanted to pass the night. The host asked whence they came, and whither they were going. “We are roaming about the world and practising our art.” “Show me just once what you can do,” said the host. Then the first said he would cut off his hand, and put it on again early next morning; the second said he would tear out his heart, and replace it next morning; the third said he would gouge out his eyes and heal them again next morning. “If you can do that,” said the innkeeper, “you have learnt everything.” They, however, had a salve, with which they rubbed themselves, which joined parts together, and they constantly carried with them the little bottle in which it was. Then they cut the hand, heart and eyes from their bodies as they had said they would, and laid them all together on a plate, and gave it to the innkeeper. The innkeeper gave it to a servant-girl who was to set it in the cupboard, and take good care of it. Secretly, however, the girl had a lover, who was a soldier. When therefore the innkeeper, the three army surgeons, and everyone else in the house were asleep, the soldier came and wanted something to eat. The girl opened the cupboard and brought him some food, and in her love forgot to shut the cupboard-door again; she seated herself at the table by her lover, and they chatted away together. While she sat so contentedly there, thinking of no ill luck, the cat came creeping in, found the cupboard open, took the hand and heart and eyes of the three army surgeons, and ran off with them. When the soldier had done eating, and the girl was taking away the things and going to shut the cupboard, she saw that the plate which the innkeeper had given her to take care of, was empty. Then she said in a fright to her lover: “Ah, miserable girl, what shall I do? The hand is gone, the heart and the eyes are gone too, what will become of me in the morning?” “Be easy,” said he, “I will help you out of your trouble—there is a thief hanging outside on the gallows, I will cut off his hand. Which hand was it?” “The right one.” Then the girl gave him a sharp knife, and he went and cut the poor sinner’s right hand off, and brought it to her. After this he caught the cat and gouged its eyes out, and now nothing but the heart was missing. “Have you not been slaughtering, and are not the dead pigs in the cellar?” said he. “Yes,” said the girl. “That’s fine,” said the soldier, and he went down and fetched a pig’s heart. The girl placed all together on the plate, and put it in the cupboard, and when after this her lover took leave of her, she went quietly to bed.
