CAT-SKIN

There was once a king, whose queen had hair of the purest gold, and was so beautiful that her match was not to be met with on the whole face of the earth. But this beautiful queen fell ill, and when she felt that her end drew near she called the king to her and said, “Promise me that you will never marry again, unless you meet with a wife who is as beautiful as I am, and who has golden hair like mine.” Then when the king in his grief promised all she asked, she shut her eyes and died. But the king was not to be comforted, and for a long time never thought of taking another wife. At last, however, his wise men said, “this will not do; the king must marry again, that we may have a queen.” So messengers were sent far and wide, to seek for a bride as beautiful as the late queen. But there was no princess in the world so beautiful; and if there had been, still there was not one to be found who had golden hair. So the messengers came home, and had had all their trouble for nothing.

Now the king had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her mother, and had the same golden hair. And when she was grown up, the king looked at her and saw that she was just like this late queen: then he said to his courtiers, “May I not marry my daughter? She is the very image of my dead wife: unless I have her, I shall not find any bride upon the whole earth, and you say there must be a queen.” When the courtiers heard this they were shocked, and said, “Heaven forbid that a father should marry his daughter! Out of so great a sin no good can come.” And his daughter was also shocked, but hoped the king would soon give up such thoughts; so she said to him, “Before I marry anyone I must have three dresses: one must be of gold, like the sun; another must be of shining silver, like the moon; and a third must be dazzling as the stars: besides this, I want a mantle of a thousand different kinds of fur put together, to which every beast in the kingdom must give a part of his skin.” And thus she though he would think of the matter no more. But the king made the most skilful workmen in his kingdom weave the three dresses: one golden, like the sun; another silvery, like the moon; and a third sparkling, like the stars: and his hunters were told to hunt out all the beasts in his kingdom, and to take the finest fur out of their skins: and thus a mantle of a thousand furs was made.

When all were ready, the king sent them to her; but she got up in the night when all were asleep, and took three of her trinkets, a golden ring, a golden necklace, and a golden brooch, and packed the three dresses—of the sun, the moon, and the stars—up in a nutshell, and wrapped herself up in the mantle made of all sorts of fur, and besmeared her face and hands with soot. Then she threw herself upon Heaven for help in her need, and went away, and journeyed on the whole night, till at last she came to a large wood. As she was very tired, she sat herself down in the hollow of a tree and soon fell asleep: and there she slept on till it was midday.

Now as the king to whom the wood belonged was hunting in it, his dogs came to the tree, and began to snuff about, and run round and round, and bark. “Look sharp!” said the king to the huntsmen, “and see what sort of game lies there.” And the huntsmen went up to the tree, and when they came back again said, “In the hollow tree there lies a most wonderful beast, such as we never saw before; its skin seems to be of a thousand kinds of fur, but there it lies fast asleep.” “See,” said the king, “if you can catch it alive, and we will take it with us.” So the huntsmen took it up, and the maiden awoke and was greatly frightened, and said, “I am a poor child that has neither father nor mother left; have pity on me and take me with you.” Then they said, “Yes, Miss Cat-skin, you will do for the kitchen; you can sweep up the ashes, and do things of that sort.” So they put her into the coach, and took her home to the king’s palace. Then they showed her a little corner under the staircase, where no light of day ever peeped in, and said, “Cat-skin, you may lie and sleep there.” And she was sent into the kitchen, and made to fetch wood and water, to blow the fire, pluck the poultry, pick the herbs, sift the ashes, and do all the dirty work.

Thus Cat-skin lived for a long time very sorrowfully. “Ah! pretty princess!” thought she, “what will now become of thee?” But it happened one day that a feast was to be held in the king’s castle, so she said to the cook, “May I go up a little while and see what is going on? I will take care and stand behind the door.” And the cook said, “Yes, you may go, but be back again in half an hour’s time, to rake out the ashes.” Then she took her little lamp, and went into her cabin, and took off the fur skin, and washed the soot from off her face and hands, so that her beauty shone forth like the sun from behind the clouds. She next opened her nutshell, and brought out of it the dress that shone like the sun, and so went to the feast. Everyone made way for her, for nobody knew her, and they thought she could be no less than a king’s daughter. But the king came up to her, and held out his hand and danced with her; and he thought in his heart, “I never saw any one half so beautiful.” 

When the dance was at an end she curtsied; and when the king looked round for her, she was gone, no one knew wither. The guards that stood at the castle gate were called in: but they had seen no one. The truth was, that she had run into her little cabin, pulled off her dress, blackened her face and hands, put on the fur-skin cloak, and was Cat- skin again. When she went into the kitchen to her work, and began to rake the ashes, the cook said, “Let that alone till the morning, and heat the king’s soup; I should like to run up now and give a peep: but take care you don’t let a hair fall into it, or you will run a chance of never eating again.” 

As soon as the cook went away, Cat-skin heated the king’s soup, and toasted a slice of bread first, as nicely as ever she could; and when it was ready, she went and looked in the cabin for her little golden ring, and put it into the dish in which the soup was. When the dance was over, the king ordered his soup to be brought in; and it pleased him so well, that he thought he had never tasted any so good before. At the bottom he saw a gold ring lying; and as he could not make out how it had got there, he ordered the cook to be sent for. The cook was frightened when he heard the order, and said to Cat-skin, “You must have let a hair fall into the soup; if it be so, you will have a good beating.” Then he went before the king, and he asked him who had cooked the soup. “I did,” answered the cook. But the king said, “That is not true; it was better done than you could do it.” Then he answered, “To tell the truth I did not cook it, but Cat-skin did.” “Then let Cat-skin come up,” said the king: and when she came he said to her, “Who are you?” “I am a poor child,” said she, “that has lost both father and mother.” “How came you in my palace?” asked he. “I am good for nothing,” said she, “but to be scullion-girl, and to have boots and shoes thrown at my head.” “But how did you get the ring that was in the soup?” asked the king. Then she would not own that she knew anything about the ring; so the king sent her away again about her business. 

After a time there was another feast, and Cat-skin asked the cook to let her go up and see it as before. “Yes,” said he, “but come again in half an hour, and cook the king the soup that he likes so much.” Then she ran to her little cabin, washed herself quickly, and took her dress out which was silvery as the moon, and put it on; and when she went in, looking like a king’s daughter, the king went up to her, and rejoiced at seeing her again, and when the dance began he danced with her. After the dance was at an end she managed to slip out, so slyly that the king did not see where she was gone; but she sprang into her little cabin, and made herself into Cat-skin again, and went into the kitchen to cook the soup. Whilst the cook was above stairs, she got the golden necklace and dropped it into the soup; then it was brought to the king, who ate it, and it pleased him as well as before; so he sent for the cook, who was again forced to tell him that Cat-skin had cooked it. Cat-skin was brought again before the king, but she still told him that she was only fit to have boots and shoes thrown at her head.

But when the king had ordered a feast to be got ready for the third time, it happened just the same as before. “You must be a witch, Cat- skin,” said the cook; “for you always put something into your soup, so that it pleases the king better than mine.” However, he let her go up as before. Then she put on her dress which sparkled like the stars, and went into the ball-room in it; and the king danced with her again, and thought she had never looked so beautiful as she did then. So whilst he was dancing with her, he put a gold ring on her finger without her seeing it, and ordered that the dance should be kept up a long time. When it was at an end, he would have held her fast by the hand, but she slipped away, and sprang so quickly through the crowd that he lost sight of her: and she ran as fast as she could into her little cabin under the stairs. But this time she kept away too long, and stayed beyond the half-hour; so she had not time to take off her fine dress, and threw her fur mantle over it, and in her haste did not blacken herself all over with soot, but left one of her fingers white. 

Then she ran into the kitchen, and cooked the king’s soup; and as soon as the cook was gone, she put the golden brooch into the dish. When the king got to the bottom, he ordered Cat-skin to be called once more, and soon saw the white finger, and the ring that he had put on it whilst they were dancing: so he seized her hand, and kept fast hold of it, and when she wanted to loose herself and spring away, the fur cloak fell off a little on one side, and the starry dress sparkled underneath it.

Then he got hold of the fur and tore it off, and her golden hair and beautiful form were seen, and she could no longer hide herself: so she washed the soot and ashes from her face, and showed herself to be the most beautiful princess upon the face of the earth. But the king said, “You are my beloved bride, and we will never more be parted from each other.” And the wedding feast was held, and a merry day it was, as ever was heard of or seen in that country, or indeed in any other.

KING GRISLY-BEARD

A great king of a land far away in the East had a daughter who was very beautiful, but so proud, and haughty, and conceited, that none of the princes who came to ask her in marriage was good enough for her, and she only made sport of them.

Once upon a time the king held a great feast, and asked thither all her suitors; and they all sat in a row, ranged according to their rank—kings, and princes, and dukes, and earls, and counts, and barons, and knights. Then the princess came in, and as she passed by them she had something spiteful to say to every one. The first was too fat: “He’s as round as a tub,” said she. The next was too tall: “What a maypole!” said she. The next was too short: “What a dumpling!” said she. The fourth was too pale, and she called him “Wallface.” The fifth was too red, so she called him “Coxcomb.” The sixth was not straight enough; so she said he was like a green stick, that had been laid to dry over a baker’s oven. And thus she had some joke to crack upon every one: but she laughed more than all at a good king who was there. “Look at him,” said she; “his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called Grisly-beard.” So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard.

But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved, and how she ill-treated all his guests; and he vowed that, willing or unwilling, she should marry the first man, be he prince or beggar, that came to the door. 

Two days after there came by a travelling fiddler, who began to play under the window and beg alms; and when the king heard him, he said, “Let him come in.” So they brought in a dirty- looking fellow; and when he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged a boon. Then the king said, “You have sung so well, that I will give you my daughter for your wife.” The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, “I have sworn to give you to the first comer, and I will keep my word.” So words and tears were of no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married to the fiddler. When this was over the king said, “Now get ready to go–you must not stay here–you must travel on with your husband.” 

Then the fiddler went his way, and took her with him, and they soon came to a great wood. “Pray,” said she, “whose is this wood?” “It belongs to King Grisly-beard,” answered he; “hadst thou taken him, all had been thine.” “Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!” sighed she; “would that I had married King Grisly-beard!” Next they came to some fine meadows. “Whose are these beautiful green meadows?” said she. “They belong to King Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they had all been thine.” “Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!” said she; “would that I had married King Grisly-beard!”

Then they came to a great city. “Whose is this noble city?” said she. “It belongs to King Grisly-beard; hadst thou taken him, it had all been thine.” “Ah! wretch that I am!” sighed she; “why did I not marry King Grislybeard?” “That is no business of mine,” said the fiddler: “why should you wish for another husband? Am not I good enough for you?” 

At last they came to a small cottage. “What a paltry place!” said she; “to whom does that little dirty hole belong?” Then the fiddler said, “That is your and my house, where we are to live.” “Where are your servants?” cried she. “What do we want with servants?” said he; “you must do for yourself whatever is to be done. Now make the fire, and put on water and cook my supper, for I am very tired.” But the princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the fiddler was forced to help her. When they had eaten a very scanty meal they went to bed; but the fiddler called her up very early in the morning to clean the house. Thus they lived for two days: and when they had eaten up all there was in the cottage, the man said, “Wife, we can’t go on thus, spending money and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.” Then he went out and cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave; but it made her fingers very sore. “I see this work won’t do,” said he: “try and spin; perhaps you will do that better.” So she sat down and tried to spin; but the threads cut her tender fingers till the blood ran. “See now,” said the fiddler, “you are good for nothing; you can do no work: what a bargain I have got! However, I’ll try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.” “Alas!” sighed she, “if any of my father’s court should pass by and see me standing in the market, how they will laugh at me!”

But her husband did not care for that, and said she must work, if she did not wish to die of hunger. At first the trade went well; for many people, seeing such a beautiful woman, went to buy her wares, and paid their money without thinking of taking away the goods. They lived on this as long as it lasted; and then her husband bought a fresh lot of ware, and she sat herself down with it in the corner of the market; but a drunken soldier soon came by, and rode his horse against her stall, and broke all her goods into a thousand pieces. Then she began to cry, and knew not what to do. “Ah! what will become of me?” said she; “what will my husband say?” So she ran home and told him all. “Who would have thought you would have been so silly,” said he, “as to put an earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everybody passes? but let us have no more crying; I see you are not fit for this sort of work, so I have been to the king’s palace, and asked if they did not want a kitchen-maid; and they say they will take you, and there you will have plenty to eat.”

Thus the princess became a kitchen-maid, and helped the cook to do all the dirtiest work; but she was allowed to carry home some of the meat that was left, and on this they lived. 

She had not been there long before she heard that the king’s eldest son was passing by, going to be married; and she went to one of the windows and looked out. Everything was ready, and all the pomp and brightness of the court was there. Then she bitterly grieved for the pride and folly which had brought her so low. And the servants gave her some of the rich meats, which she put into her basket to take home. 

All on a sudden, as she was going out, in came the king’s son in golden clothes; and when he saw a beautiful woman at the door, he took her by the hand, and said she should be his partner in the dance; but she trembled for fear, for she saw that it was King Grisly-beard, who was making sport of her. However, he kept fast hold, and led her in; and the cover of the basket came off, so that the meats in it fell about. Then everybody laughed and jeered at her; and she was so abashed, that she wished herself a thousand feet deep in the earth. She sprang to the door to run away; but on the steps King Grisly-beard overtook her, and brought her back and said, “Fear me not! I am the fiddler who has lived with you in the hut. I brought you there because I really loved you. I am also the soldier that overset your stall. I have done all this only to cure you of your silly pride, and to show you the folly of your ill-treatment of me. Now all is over: you have learnt wisdom, and it is time to hold our marriage feast.” 

Then the chamberlains came and brought her the most beautiful robes; and her father and his whole court were there already, and welcomed her home on her marriage. Joy was in every face and every heart. The feast was grand; they danced and sang; all were merry; and I only wish that you and I had been of the party.

HANSEL AND GRETEL

Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily bread. Now when he thought over this by

night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife: “What is to become of us? How are we to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?” “I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman, “early tomorrow morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is the thickest; there we will light a fire for them, and give each of them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid of them.” “No, wife,” said the man, “I will not do that; how can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest?–the wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces.” “O, you fool!’ said she, “then we must all four die of hunger, you may as well plane the planks for our coffins,” and she left him no peace until he consented. “But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the same,” said the man.

The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard what their stepmother had said to their father. Gretel wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel: “Now all is over with us.” “Be quiet, Gretel,” said Hansel, “do not distress yourself, I will soon find a way to help us.” And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he could get in. Then he went back and said to Gretel: “Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us,” and he lay down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying: “Get up, you sluggards! we are going into the forest to fetch wood.” She gave each a little piece of bread, and said: “There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you will get nothing else.” Gretel took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out together on the way to the forest. When they had walked

a short time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again and again. His father said: “Hansel, what are you looking at there and staying behind for? Pay attention, and do not forget how to use your legs.” “Ah, father,” said Hansel, “I am looking at my little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me.” The wife said: “Fool, that is not your little cat, that is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys.” Hansel, however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road.

When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said: “Now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not be cold.” Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood together, as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were burning very high, the woman said: “Now, children, lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away.”

Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was not the axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had been sitting such a long time, their eyes closed with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Gretel began to cry and said: “How are we to get out of the forest now?” But Hansel comforted her and said: “Just wait a little, until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way.” And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way.

They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more to their father’s house. They knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel, she said: “You naughty children, why have you slept so long in the forest?—we thought

you were never coming back at all!” The father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them behind alone. 

Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth throughout the land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to their father: “Everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left, and that is the end. The children must go, we will take them farther into the wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no other means of saving ourselves!” The man’s heart was heavy, and he thought: “It would be better for you to share the last mouthful with your children.” The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B, likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a second time also. 

The children, however, were still awake and had heard the conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said: “Do not cry, Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.” 

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. “Hansel, why do you stop and look round?” said the father, “go on.” “I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me,” answered Hansel. “Fool!” said the woman, “that is not your little pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.” Hansel, however little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path. 

The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and the mother said: “Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired you may sleep a little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away.” When it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister and said: “Just wait, Gretel, until the moon rises,

and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have strewn about, they will show us our way home again.” When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all up. Hansel said to Gretel: “We shall soon find the way,” but they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath

a tree and fell asleep. 

It was now three mornings since they had left their father’s house. They began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a

bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to it. And when its song was over, it spread its wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until they reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted; and when they approached the little house they saw

that it was built of bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear sugar. “We will set to work on that,’ said Hansel, “and have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and you Gretel, can eat some of the window, it will taste sweet.” Hansel reached up above, and broke off

a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft voice cried from the parlour: 

“Nibble, nibble, gnaw,

Who is nibbling at my little house?”

The children answered:

“The wind, the wind,

The heaven-born wind,”

and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and Gretel pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said: “Oh, you dear children, who has brought you here? do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you.” She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house. Then good food was set before them, milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven.

The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast day with her.

Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near. When Hansel and Gretel came into her neighbourhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly: “I have them, they shall not escape me again!” Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy cheeks she muttered to herself: “That will be a dainty mouthful!” Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled hand, carried him into a little stable, and locked him in behind a grated door. Scream as he

might, it would not help him. Then she went to Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried: “Get up, lazy thing, fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.” Gretel began to weep bitterly, butit was all in vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded. And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little stable, and cried: “Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may feel if you will soon be fat.” Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought it was Hansel’s finger, and was astonished that there was no way of fattening him. When four weeks had gone by, and Hansel still remained thin, she was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer. “Now, then, Gretel,” she cried to the girl, “stir yourself, and bring some water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, tomorrow I will kill him, and cook him.” Ah, how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how her tears did flow down her cheeks! “Dear God, do help us,” she cried. “If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we should at any rate have died together.” “Just keep your noise to yourself,” said the old woman, “it won’t help you at all.”

Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out and hang up the cauldron with the water, and light the fire. “We will bake first,” said the old woman, “I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough.” She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting.

“Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it is properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.” And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Gretel saw what she had in mind, and said: “I do not know how I am to do it; how do I get in?” “Silly goose,’ said the old woman. “The door is big enough; just look, I can get in myself!” and she crept up and thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh! then she began to howl

quite horribly, but Gretel ran away and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death. Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little stable, and cried: “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!” Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and kiss each other! And as

they had no longer any need to fear her, they went into the witch’s house, and in every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. “These are far better than pebbles!” said Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever could be got in, and Gretel said: “I, too, will take something home with me,” and filled her pinafore full. “But now we must be off,” said Hansel, “that we may get out of the witch’s forest.” When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great stretch of water. “We cannot cross,” said Hansel, “I see no foot-plank, and no bridge.” “And there is also no ferry,” answered Gretel, “but a white duck is swimming there: if I ask her, she will help us over.” Then she cried:

 “Little duck, little duck, dost thou see,

 Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee? 

There’s never a plank, or bridge in sight, 

Take us across on thy back so white.”

The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back, and told his sister to sit by him. “No,” replied Gretel, “that will be too heavy for the little duck; she shall take us across, one after the other.” The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from afar their father’s house. Then they began to run, rushed into the parlour, and threw themselves round their father’s neck. The man had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the forest; the woman, however, was dead. Gretel emptied her pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the room, and Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a mouse; whosoever catches it, may make himself a big

fur cap out of it. 

THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES

There was a king who had twelve beautiful daughters. They slept in twelve beds all in one room; and when they went to bed, the doors were shut and locked up; but every morning their shoes were found to be quite worn through as if they had been danced in all night; and yet nobody could find out how it happened, or where they had been.

Then the king made it known to all the land, that if any person could discover the secret, and find out where it was that the princesses danced in the night, he should have the one he liked best for his wife, and should be king after his death; but whoever tried and did not succeed, after three days and nights, should be put to death.  

A king’s son soon came. He was well entertained, and in the evening was taken to the chamber next to the one where the princesses lay in their twelve beds. There he was to sit and watch where they went to dance; and, in order that nothing might pass without his hearing it, the door of his chamber was left open. But the king’s son soon fell asleep; and when he awoke in the morning he found that the princesses had all been dancing, for the soles of their shoes were full of holes. The same thing happened the second and third night: so the king ordered his head to be cut off. After him came several others; but they had all the same luck, and all lost their lives in the same manner. 

Now it chanced that an old soldier, who had been wounded in battle and could fight no longer, passed through the country where this king reigned: and as he was travelling through a wood, he met an old woman, who asked him where he was going. “I hardly know where I am going, or what I had better do,” said the soldier; “but I think I should like very well to find out where it is that the princesses dance, and then in time I might be a king.” “Well,” said the old dame, “that is no very hard task: only take care not to drink any of the wine which one of the princesses will bring to you in the evening; and as soon as she leaves you pretend to be fast asleep.” 

Then she gave him a cloak, and said, “As soon as you put that on you will become invisible, and you will then be able to follow the princesses wherever they go.” When the soldier heard all this good counsel, he determined to try his luck: so he went to the king, and said he was willing to undertake the task.

He was as well received as the others had been, and the king ordered fine royal robes to be given him; and when the evening came he was led to the outer chamber. Just as he was going to lie down, the eldest of the princesses brought him a cup of wine; but the soldier threw it all away 

secretly, taking care not to drink a drop. Then he laid himself down on his bed, and in a little while began to snore very loud as if he was fast asleep. When the twelve princesses heard this they laughed heartily; and the eldest said, “This fellow too might have done a wiser thing than lose his life in this way!” Then they rose up and opened their drawers and boxes, and

took out all their fine clothes, and dressed themselves at the glass, and skipped about as if they were eager to begin dancing. But the youngest said, “I don’t know how it is, while you are so happy I feel very uneasy; I am sure some mischance will befall us.” “You simpleton,” said the eldest, “you are always afraid; have you forgotten how many kings” sons have already watched in vain? And as for this soldier, even if I had not given him his sleeping draught, he would have slept soundly enough.” 

When they were all ready, they went and looked at the soldier; but he snored on, and did not stir hand or foot: so they thought they were quite safe; and the eldest went up to her own bed and clapped her hands, and the bed sank into the floor and a trap-door flew open. The soldier

saw them going down through the trap-door one after another, the eldest leading the way; and thinking he had no time to lose, he jumped up, put on the cloak which the old woman had given him, and followed them; but in the middle of the stairs he trod on the gown of the youngest princess, and she cried out to her sisters, “All is not right; someone took hold of my gown.” “You silly creature!” said the eldest, “it is nothing but a nail in the wall.” Then down they all went, and at the bottom they found themselves in a most delightful grove of trees; and the leaves were all of silver, and glittered and sparkled beautifully. The soldier wished to take away some token of the place; so he broke off a little branch, and there came a loud noise from the tree. Then the youngest daughter said again, “I am sure all is not right–did not you hear that noise? That never happened before.” But the eldest said, “It is only our princes, who are shouting for joy at our

approach.”

Then they came to another grove of trees, where all the leaves were of gold; and afterwards to a third, where the leaves were all glittering diamonds. And the soldier broke a branch from each; and every time there was a loud noise, which made the youngest sister tremble with fear; but the eldest still said, it was only the princes, who were crying for joy. So they went on till they came to a great lake; and at the side of the lake there lay twelve little boats with twelve handsome princes in them, who seemed to be waiting there for the princesses. 

One of the princesses went into each boat, and the soldier stepped into the same boat with the youngest. As they were rowing over the lake, the prince who was in the boat with the youngest princess and the soldier said, “I do not know why it is, but though I am rowing with all my might we do not get on so fast as usual, and I am quite tired: the boat seems very heavy today.” “It is only the heat of the weather,” said the princess: “I feel it very warm too.” 

On the other side of the lake stood a fine illuminated castle, from which came the merry music of horns and trumpets. There they all landed, and went into the castle, and each prince danced with his princess; and the soldier, who was all the time invisible, danced with them too; and when any of the princesses had a cup of wine set by her, he drank it all up, so that when she put the cup to her mouth it was empty. At this, too, the youngest sister was terribly frightened, but the eldest always silenced her. They danced on till three o’clock in the morning, and then all their shoes were worn out, so that they were obliged to leave off. The princes rowed them back again over the lake (but this time the soldier placed himself in the boat with the eldest princess); and on the opposite shore they took leave of each other, the princesses promising to come again the next night. 

When they came to the stairs, the soldier ran on before the princesses, and laid himself down; and as the twelve sisters slowly came up very much tired, they heard him snoring in his bed; so they said, “Now all is quite safe”; then they undressed themselves, put away their fine clothes, pulled off their shoes, and went to bed. In the morning the soldier said nothing about what had happened, but determined to see more of this strange adventure, and went again the second and third night; and every thing happened just as before; the princesses danced each time till their shoes were worn to pieces, and then returned home. However, on the third night the soldier carried away one of the golden cups as a token of where he had been. 

As soon as the time came when he was to declare the secret, he was taken before the king with the three branches and the golden cup; and the twelve princesses stood listening behind the door to hear what he would say. And when the king asked him. “Where do my twelve daughters

dance at night?” he answered, “With twelve princes in a castle under ground.” And then he told the king all that had happened, and showed him the three branches and the golden cup which he had brought with him. Then the king called for the princesses, and asked them whether

what the soldier said was true: and when they saw that they were discovered, and that it was of no use to deny what had happened, they confessed it all. And the king asked the soldier which of them he would choose for his wife; and he answered, “I am not very young, so I will have the eldest.”—And they were married that very day, and the soldier was chosen to be the king’s heir. 

THE DOG AND THE SPARROW

A shepherd’s dog had a master who took no care of him, but often let him suffer the greatest hunger. At last he could bear it no longer; so he took to his heels, and off he ran in a very sad and sorrowful mood. On the road he met a sparrow that said to him, “Why are you so sad, my friend?” “Because,” said the dog, “I am very very hungry, and have nothing to eat.” “If that be all,” answered the sparrow, “come with me into the next town, and I will soon find you plenty of food.” So on they went together into the town: and as they passed by a butcher’s shop, the sparrow said to the dog, “Stand there a little while till I peck you down a piece of meat.” So the sparrow perched upon the shelf: and having first looked carefully about her to see if anyone was watching her, she pecked and scratched at a steak that lay upon the edge of the shelf, till at last down it fell. Then the dog snapped it up, and scrambled away with it into a corner, where he soon ate it all up. “Well,” said the sparrow, “you shall have some more if you will; so come with me to the next shop, and I will peck you down another steak.” When the dog had eaten this too, the sparrow said to him, ’Well, my good friend, have you had enough now?” “I have had plenty of meat,” answered he, “but I should like to have a piece of bread to eat after it.” “Come with me then,” said the sparrow, “and you shall soon have that too.” So she took him to a baker’s shop, and pecked at two rolls that lay in the window, till they fell down: and as the dog still wished for more, she took him to another shop and pecked down some more for him.

When that was eaten, the sparrow asked him whether he had had enough now. “Yes,” said he; “and now let us take a walk a little way out of the town.” So they both went out upon the high road; but as the weather was warm, they had not gone far before the dog said, “I am very much tired–I should like to take a nap.” “Very well,” answered the sparrow, “do so, and in the meantime I will perch upon that bush.” So the dog stretched himself out on the road, and fell fast asleep. Whilst he slept, there came by a carter with a cart drawn by three horses, and loaded with two casks of wine. The sparrow, seeing that the carter did not turn out of the way,

but would go on in the track in which the dog lay, so as to drive over him, called out, “Stop! stop! Mr Carter, or it shall be the worse for you.” But the carter, grumbling to himself, “You make it the worse for me, indeed! what can you do?” cracked his whip, and drove his cart over the poor dog, so that the wheels crushed him to death. “There,” cried the sparrow, “thou cruel villain, thou hast killed my friend the dog. Now mind what I say. This deed of thine shall cost thee all thou art worth.” “Do your worst, and welcome,” said the brute, “what harm can you do me?” and passed on. But the sparrow crept under the tilt of the cart, and pecked at the bung of one of the casks till she loosened it; and than all the wine ran out, without the carter seeing it. At last he looked round, and saw that the cart was dripping, and the cask quite empty. “What an unlucky wretch I am!” cried he. “Not wretch enough yet!” said the sparrow, as she alighted upon the head of one of the horses, and pecked at him till he reared up and kicked. When the carter saw this, he drew out his hatchet and aimed a blow at the sparrow, meaning to kill her; but she flew away, and the blow fell upon the poor horse’s head with such force, that he fell down dead. “Unlucky wretch that I am!” cried he. “Not wretch enough yet!” said the sparrow. And as the carter went on with the other two horses, she again crept under the tilt of the cart, and pecked out the bung of the second cask, so that all the wine ran out. When the carter saw this, he again cried out, “Miserable wretch that I am!” But the sparrow answered, “Not wretch enough yet!” and perched on the head of the second horse, and pecked at him too. The carter ran up and struck at her again with his hatchet; but away she flew, and the blow fell upon the second horse and killed him on the spot. “Unlucky wretch that I am!” said he. “Not wretch enough yet!” said the sparrow; and perching upon the third horse, she began to peck him too. The carter was mad with fury; and without looking about him, or caring what he was about, struck again at the sparrow; but killed his third horse as he done the other two. “Alas! miserable wretch that I am!” cried he. “Not wretch enough yet!” answered the sparrow as she flew away; “now will I plague and punish thee at thy own house.” The carter was forced at last to leave his cart behind him, and to go home overflowing with rage and vexation. “Alas!” said he to his wife, “what ill luck has befallen me!—my wine is all spilt, and my horses all three dead.” “Alas! husband,” replied she, “and a wicked bird has come into the house, and has brought with her all the birds in the world, I am sure, and they have fallen upon our corn in the loft, and are eating it up at such a rate!” Away ran the husband upstairs, and saw thousands of birds sitting upon the floor eating up his corn, with the sparrow in the midst of them. “Unlucky wretch that I am!” cried the carter; for he saw that the corn was almost all gone. “Not wretch enough yet!” said the sparrow; “thy cruelty shall cost thee they life yet!” and away she flew. 

The carter seeing that he had thus lost all that he had, went down into his kitchen; and was still not sorry for what he had done, but sat himself angrily and sulkily in the chimney corner. But the sparrow sat on the outside of the window, and cried “Carter! thy cruelty shall cost thee thy

life!” With that he jumped up in a rage, seized his hatchet, and threw it at the sparrow; but it missed her, and only broke the window. The sparrow now hopped in, perched upon the window-seat, and cried, “Carter! it shall cost thee thy life!” Then he became mad and blind with rage, and

struck the window-seat with such force that he cleft it in two: and as the sparrow flew from place to place, the carter and his wife were so furious, that they broke all their furniture, glasses, chairs, benches, the table, and at last the walls, without touching the bird at all. In the end, however, they caught her: and the wife said, “Shall I kill her at once?” “No,” cried he, “that is letting her off too easily: she shall die a much more cruel death; I will eat her.” But the sparrow began to flutter about, and stretch out her neck and cried, “Carter! it shall cost thee thy life yet!” With that he could wait no longer: so he gave his wife the hatchet, and cried, “Wife, strike at the bird and kill her in my hand.” And the wife struck; but she missed her aim, and hit her husband on the head so that he fell down dead, and the sparrow flew quietly home to her nest. 

OLD SULTAN

A shepherd had a faithful dog, called Sultan, who was grown very old, and had lost all his teeth. And one day when the shepherd and his wife were standing together before the house the shepherd said, “I will shoot old Sultan tomorrow morning, for he is of no use now.” But his wife said, “Pray let the poor faithful creature live; he has served us well a great many years, and we ought to give him a livelihood for the rest of his days.” “But what can we do with him?” said the shepherd, “he has not a tooth in his head, and the thieves don’t care for him at all; to be sure he has served us, but then he did it to earn his livelihood; tomorrow shall be his last day, depend upon it.” 

Poor Sultan, who was lying close by them, heard all that the shepherd and his wife said to one another, and was very much frightened to think tomorrow would be his last day; so in the evening he went to his good friend the wolf, who lived in the wood, and told him all his sorrows, and how his master meant to kill him in the morning. “Make yourself easy,” said the wolf, “I will give you some good advice. Your master, you know, goes out every morning very early with his wife into the field; and they take their little child with them, and lay it down behind the hedge in the shade while they are at work. Now do you lie down close by the child, and pretend to be watching it, and I will come out of the wood and run away with it; you must run after me as fast as you can, and I will let it drop; then you may carry it back, and they will think you have saved their child, and will be so thankful to you that they will take care of you as long as you live.” The dog liked this plan very well; and accordingly so it was managed. The wolf ran with the child a little way; the shepherd and his wife screamed out; but Sultan soon overtook him, and carried the poor little thing back to his master and mistress. Then the shepherd patted him on the head, and said, “Old Sultan has saved our child from the wolf, and therefore he shall live and be well taken care of, and have plenty to eat. Wife, go home, and give him a good dinner, and let him have my old cushion to sleep on as long as he lives.” So from this time forward Sultan had all that he could wish for.

Soon afterwards the wolf came and wished him joy, and said, “Now, my good fellow, you must tell no tales, but turn your head the other way when I want to taste one of the old shepherd’s fine fat sheep.” “No,’ said the Sultan; “I will be true to my master.” However, the wolf thought he

was in joke, and came one night to get a dainty morsel. But Sultan had told his master what the wolf meant to do; so he laid wait for him behind the barn door, and when the wolf was busy looking out for a good fat sheep, he had a stout cudgel laid about his back, that combed his locks for him finely.

Then the wolf was very angry, and called Sultan “an old rogue,” and swore he would have his revenge. So the next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge Sultan to come into the wood to fight the matter. Now Sultan had nobody he could ask to be his second but the shepherd’s old

three-legged cat; so he took her with him, and as the poor thing limped along with some trouble, she stuck up her tail straight in the air. 

The wolf and the wild boar were first on the ground; and when they espied their enemies coming, and saw the cat’s long tail standing straight in the air, they thought she was carrying a sword for Sultan to fight with; and every time she limped, they thought she was picking up a stone to throw at them; so they said they should not like this way of fighting, and the boar

lay down behind a bush, and the wolf jumped up into a tree. Sultan and the cat soon came up, and looked about and wondered that no one was there. The boar, however, had not quite hidden himself, for his ears stuck out of the bush; and when he shook one of them a little, the cat, seeing

something move, and thinking it was a mouse, sprang upon it, and bit and scratched it, so that the boar jumped up and grunted, and ran away, roaring out, “Look up in the tree, there sits the one who is to blame.” So they looked up, and espied the wolf sitting amongst the branches; and they called him a cowardly rascal, and would not suffer him to come down till he was heartily ashamed of himself, and had promised to be good friends again with old Sultan.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN

By the side of a wood, in a country a long way off, ran a fine stream of water; and upon the stream there stood a mill. The miller’s house was close by, and the miller, you must know, had a very beautiful daughter. She was, moreover, very shrewd and clever; and the miller was so proud of her, that he one day told the king of the land, who used to come and hunt in the wood, that his daughter could spin gold out of straw. Now this king was very fond of money; and when he heard the miller’s boast his greediness was raised, and he sent for the girl to be brought before him. Then he led her to a chamber in his palace where there was a great heap of straw, and gave her a spinning-wheel, and said, “All this must be spun into gold before morning, as you love your life.” It was in vain that the poor maiden said that it was only a silly boast of her father, for that she could do no such thing as spin straw into gold: the chamber door was locked, and she was left alone.
She sat down in one corner of the room, and began to bewail her hard fate; when on a sudden the door opened, and a droll-looking little man hobbled in, and said, “Good morrow to you, my good lass; what are you weeping for?” “Alas!” said she, “I must spin this straw into gold, and I know not how.” “What will you give me,” said the hobgoblin, “to do it for you?” “My necklace,” replied the maiden. He took her at her word, and sat himself down to the wheel, and whistled and sang:

“Round about, round about,
Lo and behold!
Reel away, reel away,
Straw into gold!”

And round about the wheel went merrily; the work was quickly done, and the straw was all spun into gold.
When the king came and saw this, he was greatly astonished and pleased; but his heart grew still more greedy of gain, and he shut up the poor miller’s daughter again with a fresh task. Then she knew not what to do, and sat down once more to weep; but the dwarf soon opened the door,
and said, “What will you give me to do your task?” “The ring on my finger,” said she. So her little friend took the ring, and began to work at the
wheel again, and whistled and sang:

“Round about, round about,
Lo and behold!
Reel away, reel away,
Straw into gold!”

till, long before morning, all was done again.
The king was greatly delighted to see all this glittering treasure; but still he had not enough: so he took the miller’s daughter to a yet larger heap, and said, “All this must be spun tonight; and if it is, you shall be my queen.” As soon as she was alone that dwarf came in, and said, “What
will you give me to spin gold for you this third time?” “I have nothing left,” said she. “Then say you will give me,” said the little man, “the first little child that you may have when you are queen.” “That may never be,” thought the miller’s daughter: and as she knew no other way to get her task done, she said she would do what he asked. Round went the wheel again to the old song, and the manikin once more spun the heap into gold. The king came in the morning, and, finding all he wanted, was forced to keep his word; so he married the miller’s daughter, and she really became queen.
At the birth of her first little child she was very glad, and forgot the dwarf, and what she had said. But one day he came into her room, where she was sitting playing with her baby, and put her in mind of it. Then she grieved sorely at her misfortune, and said she would give him all the
wealth of the kingdom if he would let her off, but in vain; till at last her tears softened him, and he said, “I will give you three days” grace, and if during that time you tell me my name, you shall keep your child.”
Now the queen lay awake all night, thinking of all the odd names that she had ever heard; and she sent messengers all over the land to find out new ones. The next day the little man came, and she began with Timothy, emphIchabod, Benjamin, Jeremiah, and all the names she could remember; but to all and each of them he said, “Madam, that is not my name.”
The second day she began with all the comical names she could hear of, Bandy-Legs, Hunchback, Crook-Shanks, and so on; but the little gentleman still said to every one of them, “Madam, that is not my name.”
The third day one of the messengers came back, and said, “I have travelled two days without hearing of any other names; but yesterday, as I was climbing a high hill, among the trees of the forest where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, I saw a little hut; and before the hut burnt a fire; and round about the fire a funny little dwarf was dancing upon one leg, and singing:

“Merrily the feast I’ll make.
Today I’ll brew, tomorrow bake;
Merrily I’ll dance and sing,
For next day will a stranger bring.
Little does my lady dream
Rumpelstiltskin is my name!”

When the queen heard this she jumped for joy, and as soon as her little friend came she sat down upon her throne, and called all her court round to enjoy the fun; and the nurse stood by her side with the baby in her arms, as if it was quite ready to be given up. Then the little man began to chuckle at the thought of having the poor child, to take home with him to his hut in the woods; and he cried out, “Now, lady, what is my name?” “Is it JOHN?” asked she. “No, madam!” “Is it Tom?” “No, madam!” “Is it Jemmy?” “It is not.” “Can your name be Rumpelstiltskin?” said the lady slyly. “Some witch told you that!—some witch told you that!” cried the little man, and dashed his right foot in a rage so deep into the floor, that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it out.
Then he made the best of his way off, while the nurse laughed and the baby crowed; and all the court jeered at him for having had so much trouble for nothing, and said, “We wish you a very good morning, and a merry feast, Mr Rumplestiltskin!”

BRIAR ROSE

A king and queen once upon a time reigned in a country a great way off,
where there were in those days fairies. Now this king and queen had
plenty of money, and plenty of fine clothes to wear, and plenty of good
things to eat and drink, and a coach to ride out in every day: but though they had been married many years they had no children, and this grieved them very much indeed. But one day as the queen was walking by the side of the river, at the bottom of the garden, she saw a poor little fish,
that had thrown itself out of the water, and lay gasping and nearly dead on the bank. Then the queen took pity on the little fish, and threw it back again into the river; and before it swam away it lifted its head out of the water and said, “I know what your wish is, and it shall be fulfilled, in
return for your kindness to me—you will soon have a daughter.” What the little fish had foretold soon came to pass; and the queen had a little girl, so very beautiful that the king could not cease looking on it for joy, and said he would hold a great feast and make merry, and show the child
to all the land. So he asked his kinsmen, and nobles, and friends, and neighbours. But the queen said, “I will have the fairies also, that they might be kind and good to our little daughter.” Now there were thirteen fairies in the kingdom; but as the king and queen had only twelve golden
dishes for them to eat out of, they were forced to leave one of the fairies without asking her. So twelve fairies came, each with a high red cap on her head, and red shoes with high heels on her feet, and a long white wand in her hand: and after the feast was over they gathered round in a ring and gave all their best gifts to the little princess. One gave her goodness, another beauty, another riches, and so on till she had all that was good in the world.
Just as eleven of them had done blessing her, a great noise was heard in the courtyard, and word was brought that the thirteenth fairy was come, with a black cap on her head, and black shoes on her feet, and a broomstick in her hand: and presently up she came into the dining-hall. Now, as she had not been asked to the feast she was very angry, and scolded the king and queen very much, and set to work to take her revenge. So she cried out, “The king’s daughter shall, in her fifteenth year, be wounded by a spindle, and fall down dead.” Then the twelfth of the friendly fairies, who had not yet given her gift, came forward, and said that the evil wish must be fulfilled, but that she could soften its mischief; so her gift was, that the king’s daughter, when the spindle wounded her, should not really die, but should only fall asleep for a hundred years.
However, the king hoped still to save his dear child altogether from the threatened evil; so he ordered that all the spindles in the kingdom should be bought up and burnt. But all the gifts of the first eleven fairies were in the meantime fulfilled; for the princess was so beautiful, and well
behaved, and good, and wise, that everyone who knew her loved her.
It happened that, on the very day she was fifteen years old, the king and queen were not at home, and she was left alone in the palace. So she roved about by herself, and looked at all the rooms and chambers, till at last she came to an old tower, to which there was a narrow staircase
ending with a little door. In the door there was a golden key, and when she turned it the door sprang open, and there sat an old lady spinning away very busily. “Why, how now, good mother,” said the princess; “what are you doing there?” “Spinning,” said the old lady, and nodded her head, humming a tune, while buzz! went the wheel. “How prettily that little thing turns round!” said the princess, and took the spindle and began to try and spin. But scarcely had she touched it, before the fairy’s prophecy was fulfilled; the spindle wounded her, and she fell down lifeless on the ground.
However, she was not dead, but had only fallen into a deep sleep; and the king and the queen, who had just come home, and all their court, fell asleep too; and the horses slept in the stables, and the dogs in the court, the pigeons on the house-top, and the very flies slept upon the walls. Even the fire on the hearth left off blazing, and went to sleep; the jack stopped, and the spit that was turning about with a goose upon it for the king’s dinner stood still; and the cook, who was at that moment pulling the kitchen-boy by the hair to give him a box on the ear for something he had done amiss, let him go, and both fell asleep; the butler, who was slyly tasting the ale, fell asleep with the jug at his lips: and thus everything stood still, and slept soundly.
A large hedge of thorns soon grew round the palace, and every year it became higher and thicker; till at last the old palace was surrounded and hidden, so that not even the roof or the chimneys could be seen. But there went a report through all the land of the beautiful sleeping Briar Rose (for so the king’s daughter was called): so that, from time to time, several kings” sons came, and tried to break through the thicket into the palace. This, however, none of them could ever do; for the thorns and bushes laid hold of them, as it were with hands; and there they stuck fast, and died wretchedly.
After many, many years there came a king’s son into that land: and an old man told him the story of the thicket of thorns; and how a beautiful palace stood behind it, and how a wonderful princess, called Briar Rose, lay in it asleep, with all her court. He told, too, how he had heard from his grandfather that many, many princes had come, and had tried to break through the thicket, but that they had all stuck fast in it, and died. Then the young prince said, “All this shall not frighten me; I will go and see this Briar Rose.” The old man tried to hinder him, but he was bent upon going.
Now that very day the hundred years were ended; and as the prince came to the thicket he saw nothing but beautiful flowering shrubs, through which he went with ease, and they shut in after him as thick as ever. Then he came at last to the palace, and there in the court lay the dogs asleep; and the horses were standing in the stables; and on the roof sat the pigeons fast asleep, with their heads under their wings. And when he came into the palace, the flies were sleeping on the walls; the spit was standing still; the butler had the jug of ale at his lips, going to drink a draught; the maid sat with a fowl in her lap ready to be plucked; and the cook in the
kitchen was still holding up her hand, as if she was going to beat the boy.
Then he went on still farther, and all was so still that he could hear every breath he drew; till at last he came to the old tower, and opened the door of the little room in which Briar Rose was; and there she lay, fast asleep on a couch by the window. She looked so beautiful that he could
not take his eyes off her, so he stooped down and gave her a kiss. But the moment he kissed her she opened her eyes and awoke, and smiled upon him; and they went out together; and soon the king and queen also awoke, and all the court, and gazed on each other with great wonder. And
the horses shook themselves, and the dogs jumped up and barked; the pigeons took their heads from under their wings, and looked about and flew into the fields; the flies on the walls buzzed again; the fire in the kitchen blazed up; round went the jack, and round went the spit, with the
goose for the king’s dinner upon it; the butler finished his draught of ale; the maid went on plucking the fowl; and the cook gave the boy the box on his ear.
And then the prince and Briar Rose were married, and the wedding feast was given; and they lived happily together all their lives long.

THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS

An honest farmer had once an ass that had been a faithful servant to him a great many years, but was now growing old and every day more and more unfit for work. His master therefore was tired of keeping him and began to think of putting an end to him; but the ass, who saw that some
mischief was in the wind, took himself slyly off, and began his journey towards the great city, “For there,” thought he, “I may turn musician.”
After he had travelled a little way, he spied a dog lying by the roadside and panting as if he were tired. “What makes you pant so, my friend?” said the ass. “Alas!” said the dog, “my master was going to knock me on the head, because I am old and weak, and can no longer make myself useful to him in hunting; so I ran away; but what can I do to earn my livelihood?” “Hark ye!” said the ass, “I am going to the great city to turn musician: suppose you go with me, and try what you can do in the same way?” The dog said he was willing, and they jogged on together.
They had not gone far before they saw a cat sitting in the middle of the road and making a most rueful face. “Pray, my good lady,” said the ass, “what’s the matter with you? You look quite out of spirits!” “Ah, me!” said the cat, “how can one be in good spirits when one’s life is in danger? Because I am beginning to grow old, and had rather lie at my ease by the fire than run about the house after the mice, my mistress laid hold of me, and was going to drown me; and though I have been lucky enough to get away from her, I do not know what I am to live upon.” “Oh,” said the ass, “by all means go with us to the great city; you are a good night singer,
and may make your fortune as a musician.” The cat was pleased with the thought, and joined the party.
Soon afterwards, as they were passing by a farmyard, they saw a cock perched upon a gate, and screaming out with all his might and main. “Bravo!” said the ass; “upon my word, you make a famous noise; pray what is all this about?” “Why,” said the cock, “I was just now saying that
we should have fine weather for our washing-day, and yet my mistress and the cook don’t thank me for my pains, but threaten to cut off my head tomorrow, and make broth of me for the guests that are coming on Sunday!” “Heaven forbid!” said the ass, “come with us Master Chanticleer;
it will be better, at any rate, than staying here to have your head cut off! Besides, who knows? If we care to sing in tune, we may get up some kind of a concert; so come along with us.” “With all my heart,” said the cock: so they all four went on jollily together.
They could not, however, reach the great city the first day; so when night came on, they went into a wood to sleep. The ass and the dog laid themselves down under a great tree, and the cat climbed up into the branches; while the cock, thinking that the higher he sat the safer he should be, flew up to the very top of the tree, and then, according to his custom, before he went to sleep, looked out on all sides of him to see that everything was well. In doing this, he saw afar off something bright and shining and calling to his companions said, “There must be a house no
great way off, for I see a light.” “If that be the case,” said the ass, “we had better change our quarters, for our lodging is not the best in the world!” “Besides,” added the dog, “I should not be the worse for a bone or two, or a bit of meat.” So they walked off together towards the spot where Chanticleer had seen the light, and as they drew near it became larger and brighter, till they at last came close to a house in which a gang of robbers lived.
The ass, being the tallest of the company, marched up to the window and peeped in. “Well, Donkey,” said Chanticleer, “what do you see?” ’What do I see?” replied the ass. “Why, I see a table spread with all kinds of good things, and robbers sitting round it making merry.” ’That would be a noble lodging for us,” said the cock. “Yes,” said the ass, “if we could only get in”; so they consulted together how they should contrive to get the robbers out; and at last they hit upon a plan. The ass placed himself upright on his hind legs, with his forefeet resting against the window; the dog got upon his back; the cat scrambled up to the dog’s shoulders, and the cock flew up and sat upon the cat’s head. When all was ready a signal was given, and they began their music. The ass brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock screamed; and then they all broke through the window at once, and came tumbling into the room, amongst the broken
glass, with a most hideous clatter! The robbers, who had been not a little frightened by the opening concert, had now no doubt that some frightful hobgoblin had broken in upon them, and scampered away as fast as they could.
The coast once clear, our travelers soon sat down and dispatched what the robbers had left, with as much eagerness as if they had not expected to eat again for a month. As soon as they had satisfied themselves, they put out the lights, and each once more sought out a resting-place to his own liking. The donkey laid himself down upon a heap of straw in the yard, the dog stretched himself upon a mat behind the door, the cat rolled herself up on the hearth before the warm ashes, and the cock perched upon a beam on the top of the house; and, as they were all rather tired with their journey, they soon fell asleep.
But about midnight, when the robbers saw from afar that the lights were out and that all seemed quiet, they began to think that they had been in too great a hurry to run away; and one of them, who was bolder than the rest, went to see what was going on. Finding everything still, he marched into the kitchen, and groped about till he found a match in order to light a candle; and then, espying the glittering fiery eyes of the cat, he mistook them for live coals, and held the match to them to light it. But the cat, not understanding this joke, sprang at his face, and spat, and scratched at him. This frightened him dreadfully, and away he ran to the back door; but there the dog jumped up and bit him in the leg; and as he was crossing over the yard the ass kicked him; and the cock, who had been awakened by the noise, crowed with all his might. At this the robber ran back as fast as he could to his comrades, and told the captain how a horrid witch had got into the house, and had spat at him and scratched his face with her long bony fingers; how a man with a knife in his hand had hidden himself behind the door, and stabbed him in the leg; how a black monster stood in the yard and struck him with a club, and how the devil had sat upon the top of the house and cried out, “Throw the rascal up here!” After this the robbers never dared to go back to the house; but the musicians were so pleased with their quarters that they took up their abode there; and there they are, I dare say, at this very day.

THE GOLDEN BIRD

A certain king had a beautiful garden, and in the garden stood a tree which
bore golden apples. These apples were always counted, and about the
time when they began to grow ripe it was found that every night one of
them was gone. The king became very angry at this, and ordered the gardener
to keep watch all night under the tree. The gardener set his eldest
son to watch; but about twelve o’clock he fell asleep, and in the morning
another of the apples was missing. Then the second son was ordered to
watch; and at midnight he too fell asleep, and in the morning another apple
was gone. Then the third son offered to keep watch; but the gardener
at first would not let him, for fear some harm should come to him: however,
at last he consented, and the young man laid himself under the tree
to watch. As the clock struck twelve he heard a rustling noise in the air,
and a bird came flying that was of pure gold; and as it was snapping at
one of the apples with its beak, the gardener’s son jumped up and shot an
arrow at it. But the arrow did the bird no harm; only it dropped a golden
feather from its tail, and then flew away. The golden feather was brought
to the king in the morning, and all the council was called together. Everyone
agreed that it was worth more than all the wealth of the kingdom: but
the king said, “One feather is of no use to me, I must have the whole bird.”
Then the gardener’s eldest son set out and thought to find the golden
bird very easily; and when he had gone but a little way, he came to a wood,
and by the side of the wood he saw a fox sitting; so he took his bow and
made ready to shoot at it. Then the fox said, “Do not shoot me, for I will
give you good counsel; I know what your business is, and that you want
to find the golden bird. You will reach a village in the evening; and when
you get there, you will see two inns opposite to each other, one of which is
very pleasant and beautiful to look at: go not in there, but rest for the night
in the other, though it may appear to you to be very poor and mean.” But
the son thought to himself, “What can such a beast as this know about the
matter?” So he shot his arrow at the fox; but he missed it, and it set up its
tail above its back and ran into the wood. Then he went his way, and in the
evening came to the village where the two inns were; and in one of these
were people singing, and dancing, and feasting; but the other looked very
dirty, and poor. “I should be very silly,” said he, “if I went to that shabby
house, and left this charming place”; so he went into the smart house, and
ate and drank at his ease, and forgot the bird, and his country too.
Time passed on; and as the eldest son did not come back, and no tidings
were heard of him, the second son set out, and the same thing happened
to him. He met the fox, who gave him the good advice: but when he came to the two inns, his eldest brother was standing at the window where
the merrymaking was, and called to him to come in; and he could not
withstand the temptation, but went in, and forgot the golden bird and his
country in the same manner.
Time passed on again, and the youngest son too wished to set out into
the wide world to seek for the golden bird; but his father would not listen
to it for a long while, for he was very fond of his son, and was afraid
that some ill luck might happen to him also, and prevent his coming back.
However, at last it was agreed he should go, for he would not rest at home;
and as he came to the wood, he met the fox, and heard the same good
counsel. But he was thankful to the fox, and did not attempt his life as his
brothers had done; so the fox said, “Sit upon my tail, and you will travel
faster.” So he sat down, and the fox began to run, and away they went
over stock and stone so quick that their hair whistled in the wind.
When they came to the village, the son followed the fox’s counsel, and
without looking about him went to the shabby inn and rested there all
night at his ease. In the morning came the fox again and met him as he was
beginning his journey, and said, “Go straight forward, till you come to a
castle, before which lie a whole troop of soldiers fast asleep and snoring:
take no notice of them, but go into the castle and pass on and on till you
come to a room, where the golden bird sits in a wooden cage; close by
it stands a beautiful golden cage; but do not try to take the bird out of
the shabby cage and put it into the handsome one, otherwise you will
repent it.” Then the fox stretched out his tail again, and the young man
sat himself down, and away they went over stock and stone till their hair
whistled in the wind.
Before the castle gate all was as the fox had said: so the son went in
and found the chamber where the golden bird hung in a wooden cage,
and below stood the golden cage, and the three golden apples that had
been lost were lying close by it. Then thought he to himself, “It will be a
very droll thing to bring away such a fine bird in this shabby cage”; so he
opened the door and took hold of it and put it into the golden cage. But the
bird set up such a loud scream that all the soldiers awoke, and they took
him prisoner and carried him before the king. The next morning the court
sat to judge him; and when all was heard, it sentenced him to die, unless
he should bring the king the golden horse which could run as swiftly as
the wind; and if he did this, he was to have the golden bird given him for
his own.
So he set out once more on his journey, sighing, and in great despair,
when on a sudden his friend the fox met him, and said, “You see now what
has happened on account of your not listening to my counsel. I will still, however, tell you how to find the golden horse, if you will do as I bid you.
You must go straight on till you come to the castle where the horse stands
in his stall: by his side will lie the groom fast asleep and snoring: take
away the horse quietly, but be sure to put the old leathern saddle upon
him, and not the golden one that is close by it.” Then the son sat down
on the fox’s tail, and away they went over stock and stone till their hair
whistled in the wind.
All went right, and the groom lay snoring with his hand upon the
golden saddle. But when the son looked at the horse, he thought it a great
pity to put the leathern saddle upon it. “I will give him the good one,”
said he; “I am sure he deserves it.” As he took up the golden saddle the
groom awoke and cried out so loud, that all the guards ran in and took
him prisoner, and in the morning he was again brought before the court to
be judged, and was sentenced to die. But it was agreed, that, if he could
bring thither the beautiful princess, he should live, and have the bird and
the horse given him for his own.
Then he went his way very sorrowful; but the old fox came and said,
“Why did not you listen to me? If you had, you would have carried away
both the bird and the horse; yet will I once more give you counsel. Go
straight on, and in the evening you will arrive at a castle. At twelve o’clock
at night the princess goes to the bathing-house: go up to her and give her a
kiss, and she will let you lead her away; but take care you do not suffer her
to go and take leave of her father and mother.” Then the fox stretched out
his tail, and so away they went over stock and stone till their hair whistled
again.
As they came to the castle, all was as the fox had said, and at twelve
o’clock the young man met the princes going to the bath and gave her the
kiss, and she agreed to run away with him, but begged with many tears
that he would let her take leave of her father. At first he refused, but she
wept still more and more, and fell at his feet, till at last he consented; but
the moment she came to her father’s house the guards awoke and he was
taken prisoner again.
Then he was brought before the king, and the king said, “You shall
never have my daughter unless in eight days you dig away the hill that
stops the view from my window.” Now this hill was so big that the whole
world could not take it away: and when he had worked for seven days,
and had done very little, the fox came and said. “Lie down and go to sleep;
I will work for you.” And in the morning he awoke and the hill was gone;
so he went merrily to the king, and told him that now that it was removed
he must give him the princess.
Then the king was obliged to keep his word, and away went the young man and the princess; and the fox came and said to him, “We will have all
three, the princess, the horse, and the bird.” “Ah!” said the young man,
“that would be a great thing, but how can you contrive it?”
“If you will only listen,” said the fox, “it can be done. When you come
to the king, and he asks for the beautiful princess, you must say, ”Here
she is!” Then he will be very joyful; and you will mount the golden horse
that they are to give you, and put out your hand to take leave of them; but
shake hands with the princess last. Then lift her quickly on to the horse
behind you; clap your spurs to his side, and gallop away as fast as you
can.”
All went right: then the fox said, “When you come to the castle where
the bird is, I will stay with the princess at the door, and you will ride in
and speak to the king; and when he sees that it is the right horse, he will
bring out the bird; but you must sit still, and say that you want to look at
it, to see whether it is the true golden bird; and when you get it into your
hand, ride away.”
This, too, happened as the fox said; they carried off the bird, the princess
mounted again, and they rode on to a great wood. Then the fox came, and
said, “Pray kill me, and cut off my head and my feet.” But the young man
refused to do it: so the fox said, “I will at any rate give you good counsel:
beware of two things; ransom no one from the gallows, and sit down by
the side of no river.” Then away he went. “Well,” thought the young man,
“it is no hard matter to keep that advice.”
He rode on with the princess, till at last he came to the village where
he had left his two brothers. And there he heard a great noise and uproar;
and when he asked what was the matter, the people said, “Two men are
going to be hanged.” As he came nearer, he saw that the two men were his
brothers, who had turned robbers; so he said, “Cannot they in any way be
saved?” But the people said “No,” unless he would bestow all his money
upon the rascals and buy their liberty. Then he did not stay to think about
the matter, but paid what was asked, and his brothers were given up, and
went on with him towards their home.
And as they came to the wood where the fox first met them, it was so
cool and pleasant that the two brothers said, “Let us sit down by the side
of the river, and rest a while, to eat and drink.” So he said, “Yes,” and
forgot the fox’s counsel, and sat down on the side of the river; and while
he suspected nothing, they came behind, and threw him down the bank,
and took the princess, the horse, and the bird, and went home to the king
their master, and said. “All this have we won by our labour.” Then there
was great rejoicing made; but the horse would not eat, the bird would not
sing, and the princess wept.
The youngest son fell to the bottom of the river’s bed: luckily it was
nearly dry, but his bones were almost broken, and the bank was so steep
that he could find no way to get out. Then the old fox came once more,
and scolded him for not following his advice; otherwise no evil would
have befallen him: “Yet,” said he, “I cannot leave you here, so lay hold of
my tail and hold fast.” Then he pulled him out of the river, and said to
him, as he got upon the bank, “Your brothers have set watch to kill you, if
they find you in the kingdom.” So he dressed himself as a poor man, and
came secretly to the king’s court, and was scarcely within the doors when
the horse began to eat, and the bird to sing, and princess left off weeping.
Then he went to the king, and told him all his brothers” roguery; and they
were seized and punished, and he had the princess given to him again;
and after the king’s death he was heir to his kingdom.
A long while after, he went to walk one day in the wood, and the old
fox met him, and besought him with tears in his eyes to kill him, and cut
off his head and feet. And at last he did so, and in a moment the fox was
changed into a man, and turned out to be the brother of the princess, who
had been lost a great many many years.