Brothers Grimm

Brothers Brother’s Grimm fairy fairytales tales

brothers grimm

The Six Swans

The Six Swans A king was once hunting in a great forest, and he chased his prey so eagerly that none of his men could follow him. As evening approached he stopped and looked around, and saw that he was lost. He looked for a way out of the woods, but he could not find one. Then he saw an old woman with a bobbing head who approached him. She was a witch.

“My dear woman,” he said to her, “can you show me the way through the woods?”

“Oh, yes, your majesty,” she answered, “I can indeed. However, there is one condition, and if you do not fulfill it, you will never get out of these woods, and will die here of hunger.”

“What sort of condition is it?” asked the king.

“I have a daughter,” said the old woman, “who is as beautiful as anyone you could find in all the world, and who well deserves to become your wife. If you will make her your queen, I will show you the way out of the woods.”

The king was so frightened that he consented, and the old woman led him to her cottage, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She received the king as if she had been expecting him. He saw that she was very beautiful, but in spite of this he did not like her, and he could not look at her without secretly shuddering.

After he had lifted the girl onto his horse, the old woman showed him the way, and the king arrived again at his royal castle, where the wedding was celebrated.

The king had been married before, and by his first wife he had seven children, six boys and one girl. He loved them more than anything else in the world.

Fearing that the stepmother might not treat them well, even do them harm, he took them to a secluded castle which stood in the middle of a forest. It was so well hidden, and the way was so difficult to find, that he himself would not have found it, if a wise woman had not given him a ball of magic yarn. Whenever he threw it down in front of him, it would unwind itself and show him the way.

However, the king went out to his dear children so often that the queen took notice of his absence. She was curious and wanted to know what he was doing out there all alone in the woods. She gave a large sum of money to his servants, and they revealed the secret to her.

They also told her about the ball of yarn which could point out the way all by itself.

She did not rest until she discovered where the king kept the ball of yarn. Then she made some little shirts of white silk. Having learned the art of witchcraft from her mother, she sewed a magic charm into each one of them. Then one day when the king had ridden out hunting, she took the little shirts and went into the woods. The ball of yarn showed her the way.

The children, seeing that someone was approaching from afar, thought that their dear father was coming to them. Full of joy, they ran to meet him. Then she threw one of the shirts over each of them, and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans, and they flew away over the woods.

The queen went home very pleased, believing that she had gotten rid of her stepchildren.

However, the girl had not run out with her brothers, and the queen knew nothing about her.

The next day the king went to visit his children, but he found no one there but the girl.

“Where are your brothers?” asked the king.

“Oh, dear father,” she answered, “they have gone away and left me alone.”

Then she told him that from her window she had seen how her brothers had flown away over the woods as swans. She showed him the feathers that they had dropped into the courtyard, and which she had gathered up.

The king mourned, but he did not think that the queen had done this wicked deed. Fearing that the girl would be stolen away from him as well, he wanted to take her away with him, but she was afraid of her stepmother and begged the king to let her stay just this one more night in the castle in the woods.

The poor girl thought, “I can no longer stay here. I will go and look for my brothers.”

And when night came she ran away and went straight into the woods. She walked the whole night long without stopping, and the next day as well, until she was too tired to walk any further.

Then she saw a hunter’s hut and went inside. She found a room with six little beds, but she did not dare to get into one of them. Instead she crawled under one of them and lay down on the hard ground where she intended to spend the night.

The sun was about to go down when she heard a rushing sound and saw six swans fly in through the window. Landing on the floor, they blew on one another, and blew all their feathers off. Then their swan-skins came off just like shirts. The girl looked at them and recognized her brothers. She was happy and crawled out from beneath the bed. The brothers were no less happy to see their little sister, but their happiness did not last long.

“You cannot stay here,” they said to her. “This is a robbers’ den. If they come home and find you, they will murder you.”

“Can’t you protect me?” asked the little sister.

“No,” they answered. “We can take off our swan-skins for only a quarter hour each evening.

Only during that time do we have our human forms. After that we are again transformed into swans.”

Crying, the little sister said, “Can you not be redeemed?”

“Alas, no,” they answered. “The conditions are too difficult. You would not be allowed to speak or to laugh for six years, and in that time you would have to sew together six little shirts from asters for us. And if a single word were to come from your mouth, all your work would be lost.”

After the brothers had said this, the quarter hour was over, and they flew out the window again as swans.

Nevertheless, the girl firmly resolved to redeem her brothers, even if it should cost her her life. She left the hunter’s hut, went to the middle of the woods, seated herself in a tree, and there spent the night. The next morning she went out and gathered asters and began to sew. She could not speak with anyone, and she had no desire to laugh. She sat there, looking only at her work.

After she had already spent a long time there it happened that the king of the land was hunting in these woods. His huntsmen came to the tree where the girl was sitting.

They called to her, saying, “Who are you?” But she did not answer.

“Come down to us,” they said. “We will not harm you.”

She only shook her head. When they pressed her further with questions, she threw her golden necklace down to them, thinking that this would satisfy them. But they did not stop, so she then threw her belt down to them, and when this did not help, her garters, and then -- one thing at a time -- everything that she had on and could do without, until finally she had nothing left but her shift.

The huntsmen, however, not letting themselves be dissuaded, climbed the tree, lifted the

girl down, and took her to the king.

The king asked, “Who are you? What are you doing in that tree?”

But she did not answer. He asked her in every language that he knew, but she remained as speechless as a fish. Because she was so beautiful, the king’s heart was touched, and he fell deeply in love with her. He put his cloak around her, lifted her onto his horse in front of himself, and took her to his castle. There he had her dressed in rich garments, and she glistened in her beauty like bright daylight, but no one could get a word from her.

At the table he seated her by his side, and her modest manners and courtesy pleased him so much that he said, “My desire is to marry her, and no one else in the world.”

A few days later they were married.

Now the king had a wicked mother who was dissatisfied with this marriage and spoke ill of the young queen. “Who knows,” she said, “where the girl who cannot speak comes from?

She is not worthy of a king.”

A year later, after the queen had brought her first child into the world, the old woman took it away from her while she was asleep, and smeared her mouth with blood. Then she went to the king and accused her of being a cannibal. The king could not believe this, and would not allow anyone to harm her. She, however, sat the whole time sewing on the shirts, and caring for nothing else.

The next time, when she again gave birth to a beautiful boy, the deceitful mother-in-law did the same thing again, but the king could not bring himself to believe her accusations.

He said, “She is too pious and good to do anything like that. If she were not speechless, and if she could defend herself, her innocence would come to light.”

But when the old woman stole away a newly born child for the third time, and accused the queen, who did not defend herself with a single word, the king had no choice but to bring her to justice, and she was sentenced to die by fire.

When the day came for the sentence to be carried out, it was also the last day of the six years during which she had not been permitted to speak or to laugh, and she had thus delivered her dear brothers from the magic curse. The six shirts were finished. Only the left sleeve of the last one was missing. When she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm. Standing there, as the fire was about to be lighted, she looked around, and six swans came flying through the air. Seeing that their redemption was near, her heart leapt with joy.

The swans rushed towards her, swooping down so that she could throw the shirts over them. As soon as the shirts touched them their swan-skins fell off, and her brothers stood before her in their own bodies, vigorous and handsome. However, the youngest was missing his left arm. In its place he had a swan’s wing.

They embraced and kissed one another. Then the queen went to the king, who was greatly moved, and she began to speak, saying, “Dearest husband, now I may speak and reveal to you that I am innocent, and falsely accused.”

Then she told him of the treachery of the old woman who had taken away their three children and hidden them.

Then to the king’s great joy they were brought forth. As a punishment, the wicked motherin-law was tied to the stake and burned to ashes. But the king and the queen with her six brothers lived many long years in happiness and peace.

THE END

The Duration of Life

The Duration of Life

When God created the world and was about to determine the duration of life for all the creatures, the donkey came and asked, “Lord, how long am I to live?”

“Thirty years,” answered God. “Is that all right with you?”

“Oh, Lord,” replied the donkey, “that is a long time. Think of my tiresome existence carrying heavy loads from morning until night, dragging bags of grain to the mill so that others might eat bread, only to be cheered along and refreshed with kicks and blows!

Spare me part of this long time.”

So God had mercy and gave him eighteen years. The donkey went away satisfied, and the dog made his appearance.

“How long do you want to live?” said God to him. “Thirty years was too much for the donkey, but you will be satisfied with that long.”

“Lord,” answered the dog. “Is that your will? Just think how much I have to run. My feet will not hold out so long. And what can I do but growl and run from one corner to another after I have lost my voice for barking and my teeth for biting?”

God saw that he was right, and he took away twelve years. Then came the monkey.

“Surely you would like to live thirty years,” said the Lord to him. “You do not need to work like the donkey and the dog, and are always having fun.”

“Oh, Lord,” he answered, “so it appears, but it is different. When it rains porridge, I don’t have a spoon. I am always supposed to be playing funny tricks and making faces so people will laugh, but when they give me an apple and I bite into it, it is always sour. How often is sorrow hidden behind a joke. I cannot put up with all that for thirty years!”

God had mercy and gave him ten years. Finally man made his appearance. Cheerful, healthy, and refreshed, he asked God to determine the duration of his life.

“You shall live thirty years,” spoke the Lord. “Is that enough for you?”

“What a short time!” cried the man. “When I have built a house and a fire is burning on my own hearth, when I have planted trees that blossom and bear fruit, and am just beginning to enjoy life, then I am to die. Oh, Lord, extend my time.”

“I will add the donkey’s eighteen years,” said God. “That is not enough,” replied the man.

“You shall also have the dog’s twelve years.”

“Still too little.”

“Well, then,” said God, “I will give you the monkey’s ten years as well, but you shall receive no more.”

The man went away, but he was not satisfied.

Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are his human years, and they quickly disappear. Here he is healthy and happy; he works with pleasure, and enjoys his existence.

The donkey’s eighteen years follow. Here one burden after the other is laid on him; he carries the grain that feeds others, and his faithful service is rewarded with kicks and blows. Then come the dog’s twelve years, and he lies in the corner growling, no longer having teeth with which to bite. And when this time is past, the monkey’s ten years conclude. Now man is weak headed and foolish; he does silly things and becomes a laughingstock for children.

THE END

Doctor Know-All Once upon a time there was a poor peasant by the name of Crab who drove two oxen with a load of wood into town where he sold it to a doctor for two thalers. He received his money just as the doctor was sitting down to eat. When the peasant saw how well the doctor ate and drank, his heart took a longing for the same things, and he decided that he would like to have been a doctor. He stood there for a while, and then asked if he too could not become a doctor.

“Certainly,” said the doctor, “in no time at all.”

“What do I have to do?” asked the peasant.

First of all, buy yourself an ABC-book, one that has a picture of a rooster up front. Second, sell your wagon and your two oxen and buy yourself some clothing and other things that doctors use.

Third, have yourself a sign painted with the words ‘I am Doctor Know-All’ and nail it above the door to your house.”

The peasant did everything he was told to do. After he had doctored a little -- but not very much -- some money was stolen from a great and wealthy nobleman. Someone told him about the Doctor Know-All who lived in such and such a village, and who must know where the money had gone. So the nobleman had his carriage hitched up, rode out to the village, and asked him if he were Doctor Know-All. “Yes, that I am.”

“Then you must come with me and recover my stolen money.”

“Yes, but my wife Grete must come along too.”

The nobleman agreed and had them take their places in his carriage. They rode away together.

They arrived at the nobleman’s court just at mealtime, and the nobleman invited him to eat.

“Yes, but include my wife Grete,” he replied, and the two of them sat down behind the table.

When the first servant brought out a platter of fine food the peasant nudged his wife and said, “Grete, that’s the first one,” meaning the meal’s first course.

However, the servant thought that he meant, “That’s the first thief,” and because that is indeed what he was, he took fright, and outside he said to his comrades, “The doctor knows everything. It’s going to go badly for us. He said that I’m the first one.”

The second one did not want to go inside at all, but finally he had to, and when he entered, the peasant nudged his wife and said, “Grete, that’s the second one.”

This servant took fright as well, and went outside. It did not go any better for the third one. Once again the peasant said, “Grete, that’s the third one.”

The fourth one brought in a covered platter, and the nobleman told the doctor that he should demonstrate his art by guessing what it contained. It was crabs. The peasant looked at the platter, and seeing no way out of his dilemma, he said to himself, “Oh, poor Crab!”

Hearing this, the nobleman called out, “If he knows that then he must know who has the money as well!”

The servant grew very fearful and motioned to the doctor to go outside. There all four of them confessed to him that they had stolen the money. They offered to give it all to him and a handsome sum in addition, if he would not turn them in. Otherwise they would all hang. They showed him where the money was hidden. The doctor was satisfied with this, and he went back inside and sat down again at the table.

“My lord,” he said, “Now I will look in my book to see where the money is hidden.

However, the fifth servant climbed into the stove in order to hear if the doctor knew anything else.

The doctor leafed back and forth in his book looking for the picture of the rooster. Not finding it, he said, “I know that you are in there. Come on out.”

The man in the stove thought that the doctor was talking to him, and terrified, he jumped out, saying, “The man knows everything!”

Then Doctor Know-All showed the nobleman where the money was, but he did not tell who had stolen it. Thus he received a large reward from each side and became a famous man.

THE END

God’s Food Once there were two sisters; the one had no children and was rich; the other had five children, was a widow, and was so poor that she no longer had enough bread to feed herself and her children.

In distress she went to her sister and said, “My children and I are starving. You are rich; give me a bite of bread.”

The rich but hard-hearted woman said, “I don’t have anything in my house either,” and with angry words she sent the poor woman away.

Some time later the rich sister’s husband came home and wanted to cut himself a piece of bread, but when he cut into the loaf, red blood gushed from it. When his wife saw this, she became horrified and told him what had happened. He hurried away and wanted to help.

When he entered the poor widow’s room, he found her there praying. She was holding the two youngest children in her arms; the three oldest ones were lying there dead.

He offered her food, but she answered, “We no longer need earthly food; God has filled three already, and will hear our prayers as well.”

She had hardly uttered these words when the two small ones stopped breathing, whereupon her heart broke too, and she sank down dead.

THE END

Godfather Death

Godfather Death A poor man had twelve children and had to work day and night in order just to feed them.

Thus when the thirteenth came into the world, not knowing what to do in his need, he ran out into the highway, intending to ask the first person whom he met to be the godfather.

The first person who came his way was our dear God, who already knew what was in his heart, and God said to him, “Poor man, I pity you. I will hold your child at his baptism, and care for him, and make him happy on earth.” The man said, “Who are you?” - “I am God.” - “Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather,” said the man. “You give to the rich, and let the poor starve.” Thus spoke the man, for he did not know how wisely God divides out wealth and poverty. Then he turned away from the Lord, and went on his way.

Then the devil came to him and said, “What are you looking for? If you will take me as your child’s godfather, I will give him an abundance of gold and all the joys of the world as well.” The man asked, “Who are you?” - “I am the devil.” - “Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather,” said the man. You deceive mankind and lead them astray.” He went on his way, and then Death, on his withered legs, came walking toward him, and said, “Take me as your child’s godfather.” The man asked, “Who are you?” - “I am Death, who makes everyone equal.” Then the man said, “You are the right one. You take away the rich as well as the poor, without distinction. You shall be my child’s godfather. Death answered, “I will make your child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend cannot fail.” The man said, “Next Sunday is the baptism. Be there on time.” Death appeared as he had promised, and served as godfather in an orderly manner. After the boy came of age his godfather appeared to him one day and asked him to go with him. He took him out into the woods and showed him an herb that grew there, saying, “Now you shall receive your godfather’s present. I will turn you into a famous physician. Whenever you are called to a sick person I will appear to you. If I stand at the sick person’s head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again; then give him some of this herb, and he will recover. But if I stand at the sick person’s feet, he is mine, and you must say that he is beyond help, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using this herb against my will, or something very bad will happen to you.” It was not long before the young man had become the most famous physician in the whole world. People said of him, “He only needs to look at the sick in order to immediately know their condition, whether they will regain their health, or are doomed to die.” And people came to him from far and wide, taking him to their sick, and giving him so much money that he soon became a wealthy man. Now it came to pass that the king became ill. The physician was summoned and was told to say if a recovery were possible. However, when he approached the bed, Death was standing at the sick man’s feet, and so no herb on earth would be able to help him. “If I could only deceive death for once,” thought the physician. “He will be angry, of course, but because I am his godson he will shut one eye. I will risk it.” He therefore took hold of the sick man and laid him the other way around, so that Death was now standing at his head. Then he gave the king some of the herb, and he recovered and became healthy again. However, Death came to the physician, made a dark and angry face, threatened him with his finger, and said, “You have betrayed me. I will overlook it this time because you are my godson, but if you dare to do it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me.” Soon

afterward the king’s daughter became seriously ill. She was his only child, and he cried day and night until his eyes were going blind. Then he proclaimed that whosoever rescued her from death should become her husband and inherit the crown. When the physician came to the sick girl’s bed he saw Death at her feet. He should have remembered his godfather’s warning, but he was so infatuated by the princess’s great beauty and the prospect of becoming her husband that he threw all thought to the winds. He did not see that Death was looking at him angrily, lifting his hand into the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He lifted up the sick girl and placed her head where her feet had been. Then he gave her some of the herb, and her cheeks immediately turned red, and life stirred in her once again. Death, seeing that he had been cheated out of his property for a second time, approached the physician with long strides and said, “You are finished. Now it is your turn.”

Then Death seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand that he could not resist, and led him into an underground cavern. There the physician saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in endless rows, some large, others medium-sized, others small.

Every instant some died out, and others were relit, so that the little flames seemed to be jumping about in constant change. “See,” said Death, “these are the life-lights of mankind.

The large ones belong to children, the medium-sized ones to married people in their best years, and the little ones to old people. However, even children and young people often have only a tiny candle.” - “Show me my life-light,” said the physician, thinking that it still would be very large. Death pointed to a little stump that was just threatening to go out, and said, “See, there it is.” - “Oh, dear godfather,” said the horrified physician, “light a new one for me. Do it as a favor to me, so that I can enjoy my life, and become king and the husband of the beautiful princess.” - “I cannot,” answered Death. “One must go out before a new one is lighted.” - “Then set the old one onto a new one that will go on burning after the old one is finished,” begged the physician. Death pretended that he was going to fulfill this wish and took hold of a large new candle, but, desiring revenge, he purposely made a mistake in relighting it, and the little piece fell down and went out. The physician immediately fell to the ground, and he too was now in the hands of Death.

THE END

Death’s Messengers In ancient times a giant was wandering along the highway when suddenly a stranger jumped toward him and shouted, “Stop! Not one step further!”

“What?” said the giant. “You, a creature that I could crush between my fingers, you want to block my way? Who are you that you dare to speak so boldly?”

“I am Death,” answered the other one. “No one resists me, and you too must obey my orders.”

But the giant refused, and began to wrestle with Death. It was a long, violent battle, and finally the giant got the upper hand, and knocked Death down with his fist, causing him to collapse by a stone. The giant went on his way, and Death lay there conquered, so weak that he could not get up again.

“What is to come of this?” he said. “If I stay lying here in a corner, no one will die in the world, and it will become so filled with people that they won’t have room to stand beside one another.”

Meanwhile a young man came down the road. Vigorous and healthy, he was singing a song and looking this way and that. Seeing the half-conscious individual, he approached him with compassion, raised him up, gave him a refreshing drink from his flask, and waited until he regained his strength.

“Do you know,” asked the stranger, as he stood up, “who I am, and whom you have helped onto his legs again?”

“No,” answered the youth, “I do not know you.”

“I am Death,” he said. “I spare no one, nor can make an exception with you. However, so you may see that I am grateful, I promise you that I will not attack you without warning, but instead will send my messengers to you before I come and take you away.”

“Good,” said the youth. “It is to my benefit that I shall know when you are coming, and that I will be safe from you until then.”

Then he went on his way, and was cheerful and carefree, and lived one day at a time.

However, youth and good health did not last long. Soon came sickness and pain, which tormented him by day and deprived him of his rest by night.

“I shall not die,” he said to himself, “for Death will first send his messengers, but I do wish that these wicked days of sickness were over.”

Regaining his health, he began once more to live cheerfully. Then one day someone tapped on his shoulder.

He looked around, and death was standing behind him, who said, “Follow me. The hour of your departure from this world has come.”

“What?” replied the man. “Are you breaking your word? Did you not promise me that you would send your messengers to me before you yourself would come? I have not seen a one of them.”

“Be still!” answered Death. “Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and strike you, and shake you, and throw you down? Has not dizziness numbed your head? Has not gout pinched your limbs? Did your ears not buzz? Did toothache not bite into your cheeks? Did your eyes not darken? And furthermore, has not my own brother Sleep reminded you every night of me? During the night did you not lie there as if you were already dead?”

The man did not know how to answer, so he surrendered to his fate and went away with Death.

The Seven Ravens

The Seven Ravens A man had seven sons, but however much he wished for a daughter, he did not have one yet. Finally his wife gave him hope for another child, and when it came into the world it was indeed a girl. Great was their joy, but the child was sickly and small, and because of her weakness, she was to be given an emergency baptism.

The father sent one of the boys to run quickly to the well and get some water for the baptism. The other six ran along with him. Because each one of them wanted to be first one to dip out the water, the jug fell into the well. There they stood not knowing what to do, and not one of them dared to go home.

When they did not return the father grew impatient, and said, “They have forgotten what they went after because they were playing, those godless boys.”

Fearing that the girl would die without being baptized, he cried out in anger, “I wish that those boys would all turn into ravens.”

He had hardly spoken these words when he heard a whirring sound above his head, and looking up, he saw seven coal-black ravens flying up and away.

The parents could not take back the curse, and however sad they were at the loss of their seven sons, they were still somewhat comforted because of their dear little daughter, who soon gained strength and became more beautiful every day.

For a long time she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents took care not to mention them to her. However, one day she accidentally overheard some people talking about her. They said that she was beautiful enough, but that in truth she was to blame for her seven brothers’ misfortune. This troubled her greatly, and she went to her father and mother and asked them if she indeed had had brothers, and what had happened to them.

Her parents could no longer keep the secret, but said that it had been heaven’s fate, and that her birth had been only the innocent cause. However, this ate at the girl’s conscience every day, and she came to believe that she would have to redeem her brothers.

She had neither rest nor peace until she secretly set forth and went out into the wide world, hoping to find her brothers and to set them free, whatever it might cost. She took nothing with her but a little ring as a remembrance from her parents, a loaf of bread for hunger, a little jug of water for thirst, and a little chair for when she got tired.

She walked on and on -- far, far to the end of the world. She came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and ate little children. She hurried away, and ran to the moon, but it was much too cold, and also frightening and wicked, and when it saw the child, it said, “I smell, smell human flesh.”

Then she hurried away, and came to the stars, and they were friendly and good to her, each one sitting on its own little chair. When the morning star arose, it gave her a chicken bone, and said, “Without that chicken bone you cannot open the glass mountain, and your brothers are inside the glass mountain.”

The girl took the bone, wrapped it up well in a cloth, and went on her way again until she came to the glass mountain. The door was locked, and she started to take out the chicken bone, but when she opened up the cloth, it was empty. She had lost the gift of the good stars.

What could she do now? She wanted to rescue her brothers, but she had no key to the glass

mountain. The good little sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it into the door, and fortunately the door opened.

After she had gone inside a little dwarf came up to her and said, “My child, what are you looking for?”

“I am looking for my brothers, the seven ravens,” she replied.

The dwarf said, “The lord ravens are not at home, but if you want to wait here until they return, step inside.”

Then the dwarf carried in the ravens’ dinner on seven little plates, and in seven little cups.

The sister ate a little bit from each plate and took a little sip from each cup. Into the last cup she dropped the ring that she had brought with her.

Suddenly she heard a whirring and rushing sound in the air, and the dwarf said, “The lord ravens are flying home now.”

They came, wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their plates and cups. Then one after the other of them said, “Who has been eating from my plate? Who has been drinking from my cup? It was a human mouth.”

When the seventh one came to the bottom of his cup, the ring rolled toward him. Looking at it, he saw that it was a ring from their father and mother, and said, “God grant that our sister might be here; then we would be set free.”

The girl was listening from behind the door, and when she heard this wish she came forth.

Then the ravens were restored to their human forms again. They hugged and kissed one another, and went home happily.

THE END

The raven There was once upon a time a Queen who had a little daughter who was still so young that she had to be carried. One day the child was naughty, and the mother might say what she liked, but the child would not be quiet. Then she became impatient, and as the ravens were flying about the palace, she opened the window and said, “I wish you were a raven and would fly away, and then I should have some rest.” Scarcely had she spoken the words, before the child was changed into a raven, and flew from her arms out of the window. It flew into a dark forest, and stayed in it a long time, and the parents heard nothing of their child. Then one day a man was on his way through this forest and heard the raven crying, and followed the voice, and when he came nearer, the bird said, “I am a king’s daughter by birth, and am bewitched, but thou canst set me free.” “What am I to do,” asked he. She said, “Go further into the forest, and thou wilt find a house, wherein sits an aged woman, who will offer thee meat and drink, but you must accept nothing, for if you eatest and drinkest anything, thou wilt fall into a sleep, and then thou wilt not be able to deliver me. In the garden behind the house there is a great heap of tan, and on this thou shalt stand and wait for me. For three days I will come every afternoon at two o’clock in a carriage. On the first day four white horses will be harnessed to it, then four chestnut horses, and lastly four black ones; but if thou art not awake, but sleeping, I shall not be set free.” The man promised to do everything that she desired, but the raven said, alas, “I know already that thou wilt not deliver me; thou wilt accept something from the woman.” Then the man once more promised that he would certainly not touch anything either to eat or to drink. But when he entered the house the old woman came to him and said, “Poor man, how faint you are; come and refresh yourself; eat and drink.” “No,” said the man, “I will not eat or drink.”

She, however, let him have no peace, and said, “If you will not eat, take one drink out of the glass; one is nothing.” Then he let himself be persuaded, and drank. Shortly before two o’clock in the afternoon he went into the garden to the tan heap to wait for the raven. As he was standing there, his weariness all at once became so great that he could not struggle against it, and lay down for a short time, but he was determined not to go to sleep. Hardly, however, had he lain down, than his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell asleep and slept so soundly that nothing in the world could have aroused him. At two o’clock the raven came driving up with four white horses, but she was already in deep grief and said, “I know he is asleep.” And when she came into the garden, he was indeed lying there asleep on the heap of tan. She alighted from the carriage, went to him, shook him, and called him, but he did not awake. Next day about noon, the old woman came again and brought him food and drink, but he would not take any of it. But she let him have no rest and persuaded him until at length he again took one drink out of the glass. Towards two o’clock he went into the garden to the tan heap to wait for the raven, but all at once felt such a great weariness that his limbs would no longer support him. He could not help himself, and was forced to lie down, and fell into a heavy sleep. When the raven drove up with four brown horses, she was already full of grief, and said, “I know he is asleep.” She went to him, but there he lay sleeping, and there was no wakening him. Next day the old woman asked what was the meaning of this? He was neither eating nor drinking anything; did he want to die? He

replied, “I am not allowed to eat or drink, and will not do so.” But she set a dish with food, and a glass with wine before him, and when he smelt it he could not resist, and swallowed a deep draught. When the time came, he went out into the garden to the heap of tan, and waited for the King’s daughter; but he became still more weary than on the day before, and lay down and slept as soundly as if he had been a stone. At two o’clock the raven came with four black horses, and the coachman and everything else was black. She was already in the deepest grief, and said, “I know that he is asleep and cannot deliver me.” When she came to him, there he was lying fast asleep. She shook him and called him, but she could not waken him. Then she laid a loaf beside him, and after that a piece of meat, and thirdly a bottle of wine, and he might consume as much of all of them as he liked, but they would never grow less. After this she took a gold ring from her finger, and put it on his, and her name was graven on it. Lastly, she laid a letter beside him wherein was written what she had given him, and that none of the things would ever grow less; and in it was also written, “I see right well that here you will never be able to deliver me, but if thou art still willing to deliver me, come to the golden castle of Stromberg; it lies in thy power, of that I am certain.” And when she had given him all these things, she seated herself in her carriage, and drove to the golden castle of Stromberg. When the man awoke and saw that he had slept, he was sad at heart, and said, “She has certainly driven by, and I have not set her free.”

Then he perceived the things which were lying beside him, and read the letter wherein was written how everything had happened. So he arose and went away, intending to go to the golden castle of Stromberg, but he did not know where it was. After he had walked about the world for a long time, he entered into a dark forest, and walked for fourteen days, and still could not find his way out. Then it was once more evening, and he was so tired that he lay down in a thicket and fell asleep. Next day he went onwards, and in the evening, as he was again about to lie down beneath some bushes, he heard such a howling and crying that he could not go to sleep. And at the time when people light the candles, he saw one glimmering, and arose and went towards it. Then he came to a house which seemed very small, for in front of it a great giant was standing. He thought to himself, “If I go in, and the giant sees me, it will very likely cost me my life.” At length he ventured it and went in.

When the giant saw him, he said, “It is well that thou comest, for it is long since I have eaten; I will at once eat thee for my supper.” “I’d rather you would leave that alone,” said the man, “I do not like to be eaten; but if thou hast any desire to eat, I have quite enough here to satisfy thee.” “If that be true,” said the giant, “thou mayst be easy, I was only going to devour thee because I had nothing else.” Then they went, and sat down to the table, and the man took out the bread, wine, and meat which would never come to an end. “This pleases me well,” said the giant, and ate to his heart’s content. Then the man said to him, Canst thou tell me where the golden castle of Stromberg is?” The giant said, “I will look at my map; all the towns, and villages, and houses are to be found on it.” He brought out the map which he had in the room and looked for the castle, but it was not to be found on it. “It’s no matter!” said he, “I have some still larger maps in my cupboard upstairs, and we will look in them.” But there, too, it was in vain. The man now wanted to go onwards, but the giant begged him to wait a few days longer until his brother, who had gone out to bring some provisions, came home. When the brother came home they inquired about the golden castle of Stromberg. He replied, “When I have eaten and have had enough, I will look in the map.” Then he went with them up to his chamber, and they searched in his map, but could

not find it. Then he brought out still older maps, and they never rested until they found the golden castle of Stromberg, but it was many thousand miles away. “How am I to get there?” asked the man. The giant said, “I have two hours’ time, during which I will carry you into the neighbourhood, but after that I must be at home to suckle the child that we have.” So the giant carried the man to about a hundred leagues from the castle, and said, “Thou canst very well walk the rest of the way alone.” And he turned back, but the man went onwards day and night, until at length he came to the golden castle of Stromberg. It stood on a glassmountain, and the bewitched maiden drove in her carriage round the castle, and then went inside it. He rejoiced when he saw her and wanted to climb up to her, but when he began to do so he always slipped down the glass again. And when he saw that he could not reach her, he was filled with trouble, and said to himself, “I will stay down here below, and wait for her.” So he built himself a hut and stayed in it for a whole year, and every day saw the King’s daughter driving about above, but never could go to her. Then one day he saw from his hut three robbers who were beating each other, and cried to them, “God be with ye!” They stopped when they heard the cry, but as they saw no one, they once more began to beat each other, and that too most dangerously. So he again cried, “God be with ye!” Again they stopped, looked round about, but as they saw no one they went on beating each other.

Then he cried for the third time, “God be with ye,” and thought, “I must see what these three are about,” and went thither and asked why they were beating each other so furiously.

One of them said that he found a stick, and that when he struck a door with it, that door would spring open. The next said that he had found a mantle, and that whenever he put it on, he was invisible, but the third said he had found a horse on which a man could ride everywhere, even up the glass-mountain. And now they did not know whether they ought to have these things in common, or whether they ought to divide them. Then the man said, “I will give you something in exchange for these three things. Money indeed have I not, but I have other things of more value; but first I must try yours to see if you have told the truth.” Then they put him on the horse, threw the mantle round him, and gave him the stick in his hand, and when he had all these things they were no longer able to see him. So he gave them some vigorous blows and cried, “Now, vagabonds, you have got what you deserve, are you satisfied?” And he rode up the glass-mountain, but when he came in front of the castle at the top, it was shut. Then he struck the door with his stick, and it sprang open immediately. He went in and ascended the stairs until he came to the hall where the maiden was sitting with a golden cup full of wine before her. She, however, could not see him because he had the mantle on. And when he came up to her, he drew from his finger the ring which she had given him, and threw it into the cup so that it rang. Then she cried, “That is my ring, so the man who is to set me free must be here.” They searched the whole castle and did not find him, but he had gone out, and had seated himself on the horse and thrown off the mantle. When they came to the door, they saw him and cried aloud in their delight.* Then he alighted and took the King’s daughter in his arms, but she kissed him and said, “Now hast thou set me free, and to-morrow we will celebrate our wedding.”

THE END

The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids

The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids

There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all seven to her and said: ’Dear children, I have to go into the forest, be on your guard against the wolf; if he comes in, he will devour you all–skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.’ The kids said: ’Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves; you may go away without any anxiety.’ Then the old one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.

It was not long before someone knocked at the house-door and called: ’Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought something back with her for each of you.’ But the little kids knew that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. ’We will not open the door,’ cried they, ’you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough; you are the wolf!’ Then the wolf went away to a shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made his voice soft with it. Then he came back, knocked at the door of the house, and called: ’Open the door, dear children, your mother is here and has brought something back with her for each of you.’ But the wolf had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw them and cried: ’We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet like you: you are the wolf!’ Then the wolf ran to a baker and said: ’I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them for me.’ And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said: ’Strew some white meal over my feet for me.’ The miller thought to himself: ’The wolf wants to deceive someone,’ and refused; but the wolf said: ’If you will not do it, I will devour you.’ Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly, this is the way of mankind.

So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at it and said: ’Open the door for me, children, your dear little mother has come home, and has brought every one of you something back from the forest with her.’ The little kids cried: ’First show us your paws that we may know if you are our dear little mother.’ Then he put his paws in through the window and when the kids saw that they were white, they believed that all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted to hide themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great ceremony; one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The youngest, who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not find. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off, laid himself down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon afterwards the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah! what a sight she saw there! The house-door stood wide open.

The table, chairs, and benches were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts and pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called them one after another by name, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a soft voice cried: ’Dear mother, I am in the clock-case.’

She took the kid out, and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others.

Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.

At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree and snored so loud that the branches shook.

She looked at him on every side and saw that something was moving and struggling in his gorged belly. ’Ah, heavens,’ she said, ’is it possible that my poor children whom he has swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?’ Then the kid had to run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut open the monster’s stomach, and hardly had she made one cut, than one little kid thrust its head out, and when she had cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and had suffered no injury whatever, for in his greediness the monster had swallowed them down whole.

What rejoicing there was! They embraced their dear mother, and jumped like a tailor at his wedding. The mother, however, said: ’Now go and look for some big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast’s stomach with them while he is still asleep.’ Then the seven kids dragged the stones thither with all speed, and put as many of them into this stomach as they could get in; and the mother sewed him up again in the greatest haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once stirred.

When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and to move about, the stones in his stomach knocked against each other and rattled.

Then cried he: ’What rumbles and tumbles Against my poor bones?

I thought ’twas six kids, But it feels like big stones.’

And when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in, and he drowned miserably. When the seven kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried aloud: ’The wolf is dead! The wolf is dead!’ and danced for joy round about the well with their mother.

THE END

Lily and the Lion

Lily and the Lion

A merchant, who had three daughters, was once setting out upon a journey; but before he went he asked each daughter what gift he should bring back for her. The eldest wished for pearls; the second for jewels; but the third, who was called Lily, said, ’Dear father, bring me a rose.’ Now it was no easy task to find a rose, for it was the middle of winter; yet as she was his prettiest daughter, and was very fond of flowers, her father said he would try what he could do. So he kissed all three, and bid them goodbye.

And when the time came for him to go home, he had bought pearls and jewels for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in vain for the rose; and when he went into any garden and asked for such a thing, the people laughed at him, and asked him whether he thought roses grew in snow. This grieved him very much, for Lily was his dearest child; and as he was journeying home, thinking what he should bring her, he came to a fine castle; and around the castle was a garden, in one half of which it seemed to be summer-time and in the other half winter. On one side the finest flowers were in full bloom, and on the other everything looked dreary and buried in the snow. ’A lucky hit!’ said he, as he called to his servant, and told him to go to a beautiful bed of roses that was there, and bring him away one of the finest flowers.

This done, they were riding away well pleased, when up sprang a fierce lion, and roared out, ’Whoever has stolen my roses shall be eaten up alive!’ Then the man said, ’I knew not that the garden belonged to you; can nothing save my life?’ ’No!’ said the lion, ’nothing, unless you undertake to give me whatever meets you on your return home; if you agree to this, I will give you your life, and the rose too for your daughter.’ But the man was unwilling to do so and said, ’It may be my youngest daughter, who loves me most, and always runs to meet me when I go home.’ Then the servant was greatly frightened, and said, ’It may perhaps be only a cat or a dog.’ And at last the man yielded with a heavy heart, and took the rose; and said he would give the lion whatever should meet him first on his return.

And as he came near home, it was Lily, his youngest and dearest daughter, that met him; she came running, and kissed him, and welcomed him home; and when she saw that he had brought her the rose, she was still more glad. But her father began to be very sorrowful, and to weep, saying, ’Alas, my dearest child! I have bought this flower at a high price, for I have said I would give you to a wild lion; and when he has you, he will tear you in pieces, and eat you.’ Then he told her all that had happened, and said she should not go, let what would happen.

But she comforted him, and said, ’Dear father, the word you have given must be kept; I will go to the lion, and soothe him: perhaps he will let me come safe home again.’

The next morning she asked the way she was to go, and took leave of her father,

and went forth with a bold heart into the wood. But the lion was an enchanted prince. By day he and all his court were lions, but in the evening they took their right forms again.

And when Lily came to the castle, he welcomed her so courteously that she agreed to marry him. The wedding-feast was held, and they lived happily together a long time. The prince was only to be seen as soon as evening came, and then he held his court; but every morning he left his bride, and went away by himself, she knew not whither, till the night came again.

After some time he said to her, ’Tomorrow there will be a great feast in your father’s house, for your eldest sister is to be married; and if you wish to go and visit her my lions shall lead you thither.’ Then she rejoiced much at the thoughts of seeing her father once more, and set out with the lions; and everyone was overjoyed to see her, for they had thought her dead long since. But she told them how happy she was, and stayed till the feast was over, and then went back to the wood.

Her second sister was soon after married, and when Lily was asked to go to the wedding, she said to the prince, ’I will not go alone this time–you must go with me.’ But he would not, and said that it would be a very hazardous thing; for if the least ray of the torch-light should fall upon him his enchantment would become still worse, for he should be changed into a dove, and be forced to wander about the world for seven long years. However, she gave him no rest, and said she would take care no light should fall upon him. So at last they set out together, and took with them their little child; and she chose a large hall with thick walls for him to sit in while the wedding-torches were lighted; but, unluckily, no one saw that there was a crack in the door. Then the wedding was held with great pomp, but as the train came from the church, and passed with the torches before the hall, a very small ray of light fell upon the prince. In a moment he disappeared, and when his wife came in and looked for him, she found only a white dove; and it said to her, ’Seven years must I fly up and down over the face of the earth, but every now and then I will let fall a white feather, that will show you the way I am going; follow it, and at last you may overtake and set me free.’

This said, he flew out at the door, and poor Lily followed; and every now and then a white feather fell, and showed her the way she was to journey. Thus she went roving on through the wide world, and looked neither to the right hand nor to the left, nor took any rest, for seven years. Then she began to be glad, and thought to herself that the time was fast coming when all her troubles should end; yet repose was still far off, for one day as she was travelling on she missed the white feather, and when she lifted up her eyes she could nowhere see the dove. ’Now,’ thought she to herself, ’no aid of man can be of use to me.’ So she went to the sun and said, ’Thou shinest everywhere, on the hill’s top and the valley’s depth–hast thou anywhere seen my white dove?’ ’No,’ said the sun, ’I have not seen it; but I will give thee a casket–open it when thy hour of need comes.’

So she thanked the sun, and went on her way till eventide; and when the moon arose, she cried unto it, and said, ’Thou shinest through the night, over field and grove–hast thou nowhere seen my white dove?’ ’No,’ said the moon, ’I cannot help thee but I will give thee an egg– break it when need comes.’

Then she thanked the moon, and went on till the night-wind blew; and she raised up her voice to it, and said, ’Thou blowest through every tree and under every leaf–hast thou not seen my white dove?’ ’No,’ said the night-wind, ’but I will ask three other winds; perhaps they have seen it.’ Then the east wind and the west wind came, and said they too had not

seen it, but the south wind said, ’I have seen the white dove–he has fled to the Red Sea, and is changed once more into a lion, for the seven years are passed away, and there he is fighting with a dragon; and the dragon is an enchanted princess, who seeks to separate him from you.’ Then the night-wind said, ’I will give thee counsel. Go to the Red Sea; on the right shore stand many rods–count them, and when thou comest to the eleventh, break it off, and smite the dragon with it; and so the lion will have the victory, and both of them will appear to you in their own forms. Then look round and thou wilt see a griffin, winged like bird, sitting by the Red Sea; jump on to his back with thy beloved one as quickly as possible, and he will carry you over the waters to your home. I will also give thee this nut,’ continued the night-wind. ’When you are half-way over, throw it down, and out of the waters will immediately spring up a high nut-tree on which the griffin will be able to rest, otherwise he would not have the strength to bear you the whole way; if, therefore, thou dost forget to throw down the nut, he will let you both fall into the sea.’

So our poor wanderer went forth, and found all as the night-wind had said; and she plucked the eleventh rod, and smote the dragon, and the lion forthwith became a prince, and the dragon a princess again. But no sooner was the princess released from the spell, than she seized the prince by the arm and sprang on to the griffin’s back, and went off carrying the prince away with her.

Thus the unhappy traveller was again forsaken and forlorn; but she took heart and said, ’As far as the wind blows, and so long as the cock crows, I will journey on, till I find him once again.’ She went on for a long, long way, till at length she came to the castle whither the princess had carried the prince; and there was a feast got ready, and she heard that the wedding was about to be held. ’Heaven aid me now!’ said she; and she took the casket that the sun had given her, and found that within it lay a dress as dazzling as the sun itself. So she put it on, and went into the palace, and all the people gazed upon her; and the dress pleased the bride so much that she asked whether it was to be sold. ’Not for gold and silver.’ said she, ’but for flesh and blood.’ The princess asked what she meant, and she said, ’Let me speak with the bridegroom this night in his chamber, and I will give thee the dress.’ At last the princess agreed, but she told her chamberlain to give the prince a sleeping draught, that he might not hear or see her. When evening came, and the prince had fallen asleep, she was led into his chamber, and she sat herself down at his feet, and said: ’I have followed thee seven years. I have been to the sun, the moon, and the night-wind, to seek thee, and at last I have helped thee to overcome the dragon. Wilt thou then forget me quite?’ But the prince all the time slept so soundly, that her voice only passed over him, and seemed like the whistling of the wind among the fir-trees.

Then poor Lily was led away, and forced to give up the golden dress; and when she saw that there was no help for her, she went out into a meadow, and sat herself down and wept.

But as she sat she bethought herself of the egg that the moon had given her; and when she broke it, there ran out a hen and twelve chickens of pure gold, that played about, and then nestled under the old one’s wings, so as to form the most beautiful sight in the world. And she rose up and drove them before her, till the bride saw them from her window, and was so pleased that she came forth and asked her if she would sell the brood. ’Not for gold or silver, but for flesh and blood: let me again this evening speak with the bridegroom in his chamber, and I will give thee the whole brood.’

Then the princess thought to betray her as before, and agreed to what she asked: but when

the prince went to his chamber he asked the chamberlain why the wind had whistled so in the night. And the chamberlain told him all–how he had given him a sleeping draught, and how a poor maiden had come and spoken to him in his chamber, and was to come again that night. Then the prince took care to throw away the sleeping draught; and when Lily came and began again to tell him what woes had befallen her, and how faithful and true to him she had been, he knew his beloved wife’s voice, and sprang up, and said, ’You have awakened me as from a dream, for the strange princess had thrown a spell around me, so that I had altogether forgotten you; but Heaven hath sent you to me in a lucky hour.’

And they stole away out of the palace by night unawares, and seated themselves on the griffin, who flew back with them over the Red Sea. When they were half-way across Lily let the nut fall into the water, and immediately a large nut-tree arose from the sea, whereon the griffin rested for a while, and then carried them safely home. There they found their child, now grown up to be comely and fair; and after all their troubles they lived happily together to the end of their days.

THE END