The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales by Jacob Grimm

  And the King sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the tower, to fetch the Queen and bring her to the royal table. But when she was led in she ate nothing, and said: “The gracious and merciful God who has supported me in the tower, will soon set me free.” She lived three days more, and then died happily, and when she was buried, the two white doves which had brought her food to the tower, and were angels of heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on her grave. The aged King ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief consumed the King’s own heart, and he soon died. His son married the beautiful maiden whom he had brought with him as a flower in his pocket, and whether they are still alive or not, is known to God.

  Clever Gretel

  THERE was once a cook named Gretel, who wore shoes with red heels, and when she walked out with them on, she turned herself this way and that, was quite happy and thought: “You certainly are a pretty girl!” And when she came home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, and as wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever she was cooking until she was satisfied, and said: “The cook must know what the food is like.”

  It came to pass that the master one day said to her: “Gretel, there is a guest coming this evening; prepare me two fowls very daintily.” “I will see to it, master,” answered Gretel. She killed two fowls, scalded them, plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening set them before the fire, that they might roast. The fowls began to turn brown, and were nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived. Then Gretel called out to her master: “If the guest does not come, I must take the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a shame if they are not eaten the moment they are at their juiciest.” The master said: “I will run myself, and fetch the guest.” When the master had turned his back, Gretel laid the spit with the fowls on one side, and thought: “Standing so long by the fire there, makes one sweat and thirsty; who knows when they will come? Meanwhile, I will run into the cellar, and take a drink.” She ran down, set a jug, said: “God bless it for you, Gretel,” and took a good drink, and thought that wine should flow on, and should not be interrupted, and took yet another hearty draught.

  Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted them, and drove the spit merrily round. But as the roast meat smelt so good, Gretel thought: “Something might be wrong, it ought to be tasted!” She touched it with her finger, and said: “Ah! how good fowls are! It certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten at the right time!” She ran to the window, to see if the master was not coming with his guest, but she saw no one, and went back to the fowls and thought: “One of the wings is burning! I had better take it off and eat it.” So she cut it off, ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she thought: “The other must go down too, or else master will observe that something is missing.” When the two wings were eaten, she went and looked for her master, and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to her: “Who knows? They are perhaps not coming at all, and have turned in somewhere.” Then she said: “Well, Gretel, enjoy yourself, one fowl has been cut into, take another drink, and eat it up entirely; when it is eaten you will have some peace, why should God’s good gifts be spoilt?” So she ran into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the one chicken in great glee. When one of the chickens was swallowed down, and still her master did not come, Gretel looked at the other and said: “Where one is, the other should be likewise, the two go together; what’s right for the one is right for the other; I think if I were to take another draught it would do me no harm.” So she took another hearty drink, and let the second chicken follow the first.

  While she was making the most of it, her master came and cried: “Hurry up, Gretel, the guest is coming directly after me!” “Yes, sir, I will soon serve up,” answered Gretel. Meantime the master looked to see that the table was properly laid, and took the great knife, wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and sharpened it on the steps. Presently the guest came, and knocked politely and courteously at the house-door. Gretel ran, and looked to see who was there, and when she saw the guest, she put her finger to her lips and said: “Hush! hush! go away as quickly as you can, if my master catches you it will be the worse for you; he certainly did ask you to supper, but his intention is to cut off your two ears. Just listen how he is sharpening the knife for it!” The guest heard the sharpening, and hurried down the steps again as fast as he could. Gretel was not idle; she ran screaming to her master, and cried: “You have invited a fine guest!” “Why, Gretel? What do you mean by that?” “Yes,” said she, “he has taken the chickens which I was just going to serve up, off the dish, and has run away with them!” “That’s a nice trick!” said her master, and lamented the fine chickens. “If he had but left me one, so that something remained for me to eat.” He called to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Then he ran after him with the knife still in his hand, crying: “Just one, just one,” meaning that the guest should leave him just one chicken, and not take both. The guest, however, thought no otherwise than that he was to give up one of his ears, and ran as if fire were burning under him, in order to take them both home with him.

  The Old Man and His Grandson

  THERE was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears dull of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let it run out of his mouth. His son and his son’s wife were disgusted at this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind the stove, and they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not even enough of it. And he used to look towards the table with his eyes full of tears. Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and it fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded him, but he said nothing and only sighed. Then they bought him a wooden bowl for a few half-pence, out of which he had to eat.

  They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground. “What are you doing there?” asked the father. “I am making a little trough,” answered the child, “for father and mother to eat out of when I am big.”

  The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently began to cry. Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if he did spill a little of anything.

  The Water-Nixie

  A LITTLE brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while they were thus playing, they both fell in. A water-nixie lived down below, who said: “Now I have got you, now you shall work hard for me!” and carried them off with her. She gave the girl dirty tangled flax to spin, and she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it, and the boy had to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and they got nothing to eat but dumplings as hard as stones. Then at last the children became so impatient, that they waited until one Sunday, when the nixie was at church, and ran away. But when church was over, the nixie saw that the birds were flown, and followed them with great strides. The children saw her from afar, and the girl threw a brush behind her which formed an immense hill of bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes, over which the nixie was forced to scramble with great difficulty; at last, however, she got over. When the children saw this, the boy threw behind him a comb which made a great ridge with a thousand times a thousand teeth, but the nixie managed to keep herself steady on them, and at last crossed over. Then the girl threw behind her a looking-glass which formed a hill of mirrors, and was so slippery that it was impossible for the nixie to cross it. Then she thought: “I will go home quickly and fetch my axe, and cut the hill of glass in half.” Long before she returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the children had escaped to a great distance, and the water-nixie was obliged to trundle back to her well again.

  The Death of the Little Hen

  ONCE UPON a time the little hen went with the little cock to the nut-hill, and they agreed together
that whichsoever of them found a kernel of a nut should share it with the other. Then the hen found a large, large nut, but said nothing about it, intending to eat the kernel herself. The kernel, however, was so large that she could not swallow it, and it remained sticking in her throat, so that she was alarmed lest she should be choked. Then she cried: “Cock, I entreat you to run as fast as you can and fetch me some water, or I shall choke.” The little cock did run as fast as he could to the spring, and said: “Stream, you are to give me some water; the little hen is lying on the nut-hill, and she has swallowed a large nut, and is choking.” The well answered: “First run to the bride, and get her to give you some red silk.” The little cock ran to the bride and said: “Bride, you are to give me some red silk; I want to give red silk to the well, the well is to give me some water, I am to take the water to the little hen who is lying on the nut-hill and has swallowed a great nut-kernel, and is choking with it.” The bride answered: “First run and bring me my little wreath which is hanging to a willow.” So the little cock ran to the willow, and drew the wreath from the branch and took it to the bride, and the bride gave him some red silk for it, which he took to the well, who gave him some water for it. Then the little cock took the water to the hen, but when he got there the hen had choked in the meantime, and lay there dead and did not move. Then the cock was so distressed that he cried aloud, and every animal came to lament the little hen, and six mice built a little carriage to carry her to her grave, and when the carriage was ready they harnessed themselves to it, and the cock drove. On the way, however, they met the fox, who said: “Where are you going, little cock?” “I am going to bury my little hen.” “May I drive with you?” “Yes, but seat yourself at the back of the carriage, for in the front my little horses could not drag you.” Then the fox seated himself at the back, and after that the wolf, the bear, the stag, the lion, and all the beasts of the forest did the same. Then the procession went onwards, and they reached a stream. “How are we to cross over?” said the little cock. A straw was lying by the stream and it said: “I will lay myself straight across, and then you can drive over me.” But when the six mice came to the bridge, the straw slipped and fell into the water, and the six mice all fell in and were drowned. Then they were again in difficulty, and a coal came and said: “I am large enough, I will lay myself across, and you shall drive over me.” So the coal also laid itself across the water, but unhappily just touched it, at which the coal hissed, was extinguished and died. When a stone saw that, it took pity on the little cock, wished to help him, and laid itself over the water. Then the cock drew the carriage himself, but when he got it over and reached the shore with the dead hen, and was about to draw over the others who were sitting behind as well, there were too many of them, the carriage ran back, and they all fell into the water together, and were drowned. Then the little cock was left alone with the dead hen, and dug a grave for her and laid her in it, and made a mound above it, on which he sat down and fretted until he died too, and then everyone was dead.

  Brother Lustig

  THERE WAS once upon a time a great war, and when it came to an end, many soldiers were discharged. Then Brother Lustig also received his dismissal, and with it nothing but a small loaf of ammunition-bread, and four kreuzers in money, with which he departed. St. Peter, however, had placed himself in his way in the form of a poor beggar, and when Brother Lustig came up, he begged alms of him. Brother Lustig replied: “Dear beggar-man, what am I to give you? I have been a soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing but this little loaf of ammunition-bread, and four kreuzers of money; when that is gone, I shall have to beg as well as you. Still I will give you something.” Thereupon he divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the apostle one of them, and a kreuzer likewise. St. Peter thanked him, went onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier’s way as a beggar, but in another shape; and when he came up begged a gift of him as before. Brother Lustig spoke as he had done before, and again gave him a quarter of the loaf and one kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and went onwards, but for the third time placed himself in another shape as a beggar on the road, and spoke to Brother Lustig. Brother Lustig gave him also the third quarter of bread and the third kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and Brother Lustig went onwards, and had but a quarter of the loaf, and one kreuzer. With that he went into an inn, ate the bread, and ordered one kreuzer’s worth of beer. When he had had it, he journeyed onwards, and then St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance of a discharged soldier, met and spoke to him thus: “Good day, comrade, can you not give me a bit of bread, and a kreuzer to get a drink?” “Where am I to procure it?” answered Brother Lustig: “I have been discharged, and I got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four kreuzers in money. I met three beggars on the road, and I gave each of them a quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer. The last quarter I ate in the inn, and had a drink with the last kreuzer. Now my pockets are empty, and if you also have nothing we can go a-begging together.” “No,” answered St. Peter, “we need not quite do that. I know a little about medicine, and I will soon earn as much as I require by that.” “Indeed,” said Brother Lustig, “I know nothing of that, so I must go and beg alone.” “Just come with me,” said St. Peter, “and if I earn anything, you shall have half of it.” “All right,” said Brother Lustig, and they went away together.

  Then they came to a peasant’s house inside which they heard loud lamentations and cries; so they went in, and there the husband was lying sick unto death, and very near his end, and his wife was crying and weeping quite loudly. “Stop that howling and crying,” said St. Peter, “I will make the man well again,” and he took a salve out of his pocket, and healed the sick man in a moment, so that he could get up, and was in perfect health. In great delight the man and his wife said: “How can we reward you? What shall we give you?” But St. Peter would take nothing, and the more the peasant folks offered him, the more he refused. Brother Lustig, however, nudged St. Peter, and said: “Take something; sure enough we are in need of it.” At length the woman brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he really must take that, but he would not. Then Brother Lustig gave him a poke in the side, and said: “Do take it, you stupid fool; we are in great want of it!” Then St. Peter said at last: “Well, I will take the lamb, but I won’t carry it; if you insist on having it, you must carry it.” “That is nothing,” said Brother Lustig, “I will easily carry it,” and took it on his shoulder. Then they departed and came to a wood, but Brother Lustig had begun to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to St. Peter: “Look, that’s a good place, we might cook the lamb there, and eat it.” “As you like,” answered St. Peter, “but I can’t have anything to do with the cooking; if you will cook, there is a kettle for you, and in the meantime I will walk about a little until it is ready. But you must not begin to eat until I have come back; I will come at the right time.” “Well, go, then,” said Brother Lustig, “I understand cookery, I will manage it.” Then St. Peter went away, and Brother Lustig killed the lamb, lighted a fire, threw the meat into the kettle, and boiled it. When the lamb, however, was quite ready, and the apostle Peter had not come back, Brother Lustig took it out of the kettle, cut it up, and found the heart. “That is said to be the best part,” said he, and tasted it, but at last he ate it all up. At length St. Peter returned and said: “You may eat the whole of the lamb yourself, I will only have the heart, give me that.” Then Brother Lustig took a knife and fork, and pretended to look anxiously about amongst the lamb’s flesh, but not to be able to find the heart, and at last he said abruptly: “There is none here.” “But where can it be?” said the apostle. “I don’t know,” replied Brother Lustig, “but look, what fools we both are, to seek for the lamb’s heart, and neither of us to remember that a lamb has no heart!” “Oh,” said St. Peter, “that is something quite new! Every animal has a heart, why is a lamb to have none?” “No, be assured, my brother,” said Brother Lustig, “that a lamb has no heart; just consider it seriously, and then you wi
ll see that it really has none.” “Well, it is all right,” said St. Peter, “if there is no heart, then I want none of the lamb; you may eat it alone.” “What I can’t eat now, I will carry away in my knapsack,” said Brother Lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and put the rest in his knapsack.

  They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great stream of water to flow right across their path, and they were obliged to pass through it. Said St. Peter: “Do you go first.” “No,” answered Brother Lustig, “you must go first,” and he thought: “if the water is too deep I will stay behind.” Then St. Peter strode through it, and the water just reached to his knee. So Brother Lustig began to go through also, but the water grew deeper and reached to his throat. Then he cried: “Brother, help me!” St. Peter said: “Then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” said he, “I have not eaten it.” Then the water grew deeper still and rose to his mouth. “Help me, brother,” cried the soldier. St. Peter said: “Then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb’s heart?” “No,” he replied, “I have not eaten it.” St. Peter, however, would not let him be drowned, but made the water sink and helped him through it.