Grimms' Fairy Tales - 01

Grimms’ Fairy Tales
By Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm

PREPARER’S NOTE
The text is based on translations from
the Grimms’ Kinder und Hausmärchen by
Edgar Taylor and Marian Edwardes.


CONTENTS:
THE GOLDEN BIRD
HANS IN LUCK
JORINDA AND JORINDEL
THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS
OLD SULTAN
THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN
BRIAR ROSE
THE DOG AND THE SPARROW
THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE
THE WILLOW-WREN AND THE BEAR
THE FROG-PRINCE
CAT AND MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP
THE GOOSE-GIRL
THE ADVENTURES OF CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET
1. HOW THEY WENT TO THE MOUNTAINS TO EAT NUTS
2. HOW CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET WENT TO VISIT MR KORBES
RAPUNZEL
FUNDEVOGEL
THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR
HANSEL AND GRETEL
THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND THE SAUSAGE
MOTHER HOLLE
LITTLE RED-CAP [LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD]
THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM
TOM THUMB
RUMPELSTILTSKIN
CLEVER GRETEL
THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON
THE LITTLE PEASANT
FREDERICK AND CATHERINE
SWEETHEART ROLAND
SNOWDROP
THE PINK
CLEVER ELSIE
THE MISER IN THE BUSH
ASHPUTTEL
THE WHITE SNAKE
THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS
THE QUEEN BEE
THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER
THE JUNIPER-TREE
the juniper-tree.
THE TURNIP
CLEVER HANS
THE THREE LANGUAGES
THE FOX AND THE CAT
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS
LILY AND THE LION
THE FOX AND THE HORSE
THE BLUE LIGHT
THE RAVEN
THE GOLDEN GOOSE
THE WATER OF LIFE
THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MOUNTAIN
DOCTOR KNOWALL
THE SEVEN RAVENS
THE WEDDING OF MRS FOX
FIRST STORY
SECOND STORY
THE SALAD
THE STORY OF THE YOUTH WHO WENT FORTH TO LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS
KING GRISLY-BEARD
IRON HANS
CAT-SKIN
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED


THE BROTHERS GRIMM FAIRY TALES


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 princess 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 the 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.


HANS IN LUCK

Some men are born to good luck: all they do or try to do comes
right--all that falls to them is so much gain--all their geese are
swans--all their cards are trumps--toss them which way you will, they
will always, like poor puss, alight upon their legs, and only move on so
much the faster. The world may very likely not always think of them as
they think of themselves, but what care they for the world? what can it
know about the matter?
One of these lucky beings was neighbour Hans. Seven long years he had
worked hard for his master. At last he said, ‘Master, my time is up; I
must go home and see my poor mother once more: so pray pay me my wages
and let me go.’ And the master said, ‘You have been a faithful and good
servant, Hans, so your pay shall be handsome.’ Then he gave him a lump
of silver as big as his head.
Hans took out his pocket-handkerchief, put the piece of silver into it,
threw it over his shoulder, and jogged off on his road homewards. As he
went lazily on, dragging one foot after another, a man came in sight,
trotting gaily along on a capital horse. ‘Ah!’ said Hans aloud, ‘what a
fine thing it is to ride on horseback! There he sits as easy and happy
as if he was at home, in the chair by his fireside; he trips against no
stones, saves shoe-leather, and gets on he hardly knows how.’ Hans did
not speak so softly but the horseman heard it all, and said, ‘Well,
friend, why do you go on foot then?’ ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘I have this load to
carry: to be sure it is silver, but it is so heavy that I can’t hold up
my head, and you must know it hurts my shoulder sadly.’ ‘What do you say
of making an exchange?’ said the horseman. ‘I will give you my horse,
and you shall give me the silver; which will save you a great deal of
trouble in carrying such a heavy load about with you.’ ‘With all my
heart,’ said Hans: ‘but as you are so kind to me, I must tell you one
thing--you will have a weary task to draw that silver about with you.’
However, the horseman got off, took the silver, helped Hans up, gave him
the bridle into one hand and the whip into the other, and said, ‘When
you want to go very fast, smack your lips loudly together, and cry
“Jip!”’
Hans was delighted as he sat on the horse, drew himself up, squared his
elbows, turned out his toes, cracked his whip, and rode merrily off, one
minute whistling a merry tune, and another singing,
‘No care and no sorrow,
A fig for the morrow!
We’ll laugh and be merry,
Sing neigh down derry!’
After a time he thought he should like to go a little faster, so he
smacked his lips and cried ‘Jip!’ Away went the horse full gallop; and
before Hans knew what he was about, he was thrown off, and lay on his
back by the road-side. His horse would have ran off, if a shepherd who
was coming by, driving a cow, had not stopped it. Hans soon came to
himself, and got upon his legs again, sadly vexed, and said to the
shepherd, ‘This riding is no joke, when a man has the luck to get upon
a beast like this that stumbles and flings him off as if it would break
his neck. However, I’m off now once for all: I like your cow now a great
deal better than this smart beast that played me this trick, and has
spoiled my best coat, you see, in this puddle; which, by the by, smells
not very like a nosegay. One can walk along at one’s leisure behind that
cow--keep good company, and have milk, butter, and cheese, every day,
into the bargain. What would I give to have such a prize!’ ‘Well,’ said
the shepherd, ‘if you are so fond of her, I will change my cow for your
horse; I like to do good to my neighbours, even though I lose by it
myself.’ ‘Done!’ said Hans, merrily. ‘What a noble heart that good man
has!’ thought he. Then the shepherd jumped upon the horse, wished Hans
and the cow good morning, and away he rode.
Hans brushed his coat, wiped his face and hands, rested a while, and
then drove off his cow quietly, and thought his bargain a very lucky
one. ‘If I have only a piece of bread (and I certainly shall always be
able to get that), I can, whenever I like, eat my butter and cheese with
it; and when I am thirsty I can milk my cow and drink the milk: and what
can I wish for more?’ When he came to an inn, he halted, ate up all his
bread, and gave away his last penny for a glass of beer. When he had
rested himself he set off again, driving his cow towards his mother’s
village. But the heat grew greater as soon as noon came on, till at
last, as he found himself on a wide heath that would take him more than
an hour to cross, he began to be so hot and parched that his tongue
clave to the roof of his mouth. ‘I can find a cure for this,’ thought
he; ‘now I will milk my cow and quench my thirst’: so he tied her to the
stump of a tree, and held his leathern cap to milk into; but not a drop
was to be had. Who would have thought that this cow, which was to bring
him milk and butter and cheese, was all that time utterly dry? Hans had
not thought of looking to that.
While he was trying his luck in milking, and managing the matter very
clumsily, the uneasy beast began to think him very troublesome; and at
last gave him such a kick on the head as knocked him down; and there he
lay a long while senseless. Luckily a butcher soon came by, driving a
pig in a wheelbarrow. ‘What is the matter with you, my man?’ said the
butcher, as he helped him up. Hans told him what had happened, how he
was dry, and wanted to milk his cow, but found the cow was dry too. Then
the butcher gave him a flask of ale, saying, ‘There, drink and refresh
yourself; your cow will give you no milk: don’t you see she is an old
beast, good for nothing but the slaughter-house?’ ‘Alas, alas!’ said
Hans, ‘who would have thought it? What a shame to take my horse, and
give me only a dry cow! If I kill her, what will she be good for? I hate
cow-beef; it is not tender enough for me. If it were a pig now--like
that fat gentleman you are driving along at his ease--one could do
something with it; it would at any rate make sausages.’ ‘Well,’ said
the butcher, ‘I don’t like to say no, when one is asked to do a kind,
neighbourly thing. To please you I will change, and give you my fine fat
pig for the cow.’ ‘Heaven reward you for your kindness and self-denial!’
said Hans, as he gave the butcher the cow; and taking the pig off the
wheel-barrow, drove it away, holding it by the string that was tied to
its leg.
So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go right with him: he had met
with some misfortunes, to be sure; but he was now well repaid for all.
How could it be otherwise with such a travelling companion as he had at
last got?
The next man he met was a countryman carrying a fine white goose. The
countryman stopped to ask what was o’clock; this led to further chat;
and Hans told him all his luck, how he had so many good bargains, and
how all the world went gay and smiling with him. The countryman then
began to tell his tale, and said he was going to take the goose to a
christening. ‘Feel,’ said he, ‘how heavy it is, and yet it is only eight
weeks old. Whoever roasts and eats it will find plenty of fat upon it,
it has lived so well!’ ‘You’re right,’ said Hans, as he weighed it in
his hand; ‘but if you talk of fat, my pig is no trifle.’ Meantime the
countryman began to look grave, and shook his head. ‘Hark ye!’ said he,
‘my worthy friend, you seem a good sort of fellow, so I can’t help doing
you a kind turn. Your pig may get you into a scrape. In the village I
just came from, the squire has had a pig stolen out of his sty. I was
dreadfully afraid when I saw you that you had got the squire’s pig. If
you have, and they catch you, it will be a bad job for you. The least
they will do will be to throw you into the horse-pond. Can you swim?’
Poor Hans was sadly frightened. ‘Good man,’ cried he, ‘pray get me out
of this scrape. I know nothing of where the pig was either bred or born;
but he may have been the squire’s for aught I can tell: you know this
country better than I do, take my pig and give me the goose.’ ‘I ought
to have something into the bargain,’ said the countryman; ‘give a fat
goose for a pig, indeed! ‘Tis not everyone would do so much for you as
that. However, I will not be hard upon you, as you are in trouble.’ Then
he took the string in his hand, and drove off the pig by a side path;
while Hans went on the way homewards free from care. ‘After all,’
thought he, ‘that chap is pretty well taken in. I don’t care whose pig
it is, but wherever it came from it has been a very good friend to me. I
have much the best of the bargain. First there will be a capital roast;
then the fat will find me in goose-grease for six months; and then there
are all the beautiful white feathers. I will put them into my pillow,
and then I am sure I shall sleep soundly without rocking. How happy my
mother will be! Talk of a pig, indeed! Give me a fine fat goose.’
As he came to the next village, he saw a scissor-grinder with his wheel,
working and singing,
‘O’er hill and o’er dale
So happy I roam,
Work light and live well,
All the world is my home;
Then who so blythe, so merry as I?’
Hans stood looking on for a while, and at last said, ‘You must be well
off, master grinder! you seem so happy at your work.’ ‘Yes,’ said the
other, ‘mine is a golden trade; a good grinder never puts his hand
into his pocket without finding money in it--but where did you get that
beautiful goose?’ ‘I did not buy it, I gave a pig for it.’ ‘And where
did you get the pig?’ ‘I gave a cow for it.’ ‘And the cow?’ ‘I gave a
horse for it.’ ‘And the horse?’ ‘I gave a lump of silver as big as my
head for it.’ ‘And the silver?’ ‘Oh! I worked hard for that seven long
years.’ ‘You have thriven well in the world hitherto,’ said the grinder,
‘now if you could find money in your pocket whenever you put your hand
in it, your fortune would be made.’ ‘Very true: but how is that to be
managed?’ ‘How? Why, you must turn grinder like myself,’ said the other;
‘you only want a grindstone; the rest will come of itself. Here is one
that is but little the worse for wear: I would not ask more than the
value of your goose for it--will you buy?’ ‘How can you ask?’ said
Hans; ‘I should be the happiest man in the world, if I could have money
whenever I put my hand in my pocket: what could I want more? there’s
the goose.’ ‘Now,’ said the grinder, as he gave him a common rough stone
that lay by his side, ‘this is a most capital stone; do but work it well
enough, and you can make an old nail cut with it.’
Hans took the stone, and went his way with a light heart: his eyes
sparkled for joy, and he said to himself, ‘Surely I must have been born
in a lucky hour; everything I could want or wish for comes of itself.
People are so kind; they seem really to think I do them a favour in
letting them make me rich, and giving me good bargains.’
Meantime he began to be tired, and hungry too, for he had given away his
last penny in his joy at getting the cow.
At last he could go no farther, for the stone tired him sadly: and he
dragged himself to the side of a river, that he might take a drink of
water, and rest a while. So he laid the stone carefully by his side on
the bank: but, as he stooped down to drink, he forgot it, pushed it a
little, and down it rolled, plump into the stream.
For a while he watched it sinking in the deep clear water; then sprang
up and danced for joy, and again fell upon his knees and thanked Heaven,
with tears in his eyes, for its kindness in taking away his only plague,
the ugly heavy stone.
‘How happy am I!’ cried he; ‘nobody was ever so lucky as I.’ Then up he
got with a light heart, free from all his troubles, and walked on till
he reached his mother’s house, and told her how very easy the road to
good luck was.


JORINDA AND JORINDEL

There was once an old castle, that stood in the middle of a deep gloomy
wood, and in the castle lived an old fairy. Now this fairy could take
any shape she pleased. All the day long she flew about in the form of
an owl, or crept about the country like a cat; but at night she always
became an old woman again. When any young man came within a hundred
paces of her castle, he became quite fixed, and could not move a step
till she came and set him free; which she would not do till he had given
her his word never to come there again: but when any pretty maiden came
within that space she was changed into a bird, and the fairy put her
into a cage, and hung her up in a chamber in the castle. There were
seven hundred of these cages hanging in the castle, and all with
beautiful birds in them.
Now there was once a maiden whose name was Jorinda. She was prettier
than all the pretty girls that ever were seen before, and a shepherd
lad, whose name was Jorindel, was very fond of her, and they were soon
to be married. One day they went to walk in the wood, that they might be
alone; and Jorindel said, ‘We must take care that we don’t go too near
to the fairy’s castle.’ It was a beautiful evening; the last rays of the
setting sun shone bright through the long stems of the trees upon
the green underwood beneath, and the turtle-doves sang from the tall
birches.
Jorinda sat down to gaze upon the sun; Jorindel sat by her side; and
both felt sad, they knew not why; but it seemed as if they were to be