Stacey's blog: "Grimms Fairytales"

A soldier who is afraid of nothing, troubles himself about nothing. One of this kind had received his discharge, and as he had learnt no trade and could earn nothing, he traveled about and begged alms of kind people. He had an old rain-coat on his back, and a pair of riding-boots of buffalo-leather which were still left to him. One day he was walking he knew not where, straight out into the open country, and at length came to a forest. He did not know where he was, but saw sitting on the trunk of a tree, which had been cut down, a man who was well dressed and wore a green shooting-coat. The soldier shook hands with him, sat down on the grass by his side, and stretched out his legs. I see you have good boots on, which are well blacked, said he to the huntsman, but if you had to travel about as I have, they would not last long. Look at mine, they are of buffalo-leather, and have been worn for a long time, but in them I can go through thick and thin. After a while the soldier got up and said, I can stay no longer, hunger drives me onwards, but, brother brightboots, where does this road lead to. I don't know that myself, answered the huntsman, I have lost my way in the forest. Then you are in the same plight as I, said the soldier. Birds of a feather flock together, let us remain together, and seek our way. The huntsman smiled a little, and they walked on further and further, until night fell. We do not get out of the forest, said the soldier, but there in the distance I see a light shining. There we might find something to eat. They found a stone house, knocked at the door, and an old woman opened it. We are looking for quarters for the night, said the soldier, and some lining for our stomachs, for mine is as empty as an old knapsack. You cannot stay here, answered the old woman. This is a robbers, house, and you would do wisely to get away before they come home, or you will be lost. It won't be so bad as that, answered the soldier, I have not had a mouthful for two days, and whether I am murdered here or die of hunger in the forest is all the same to me. I shall come in. The huntsman would not follow, but the soldier drew him in with him by the sleeve. Come, my dear brother, we shall not come to an end so quickly as that. The old woman had pity on them and said, creep in here behind the stove, and if they leave anything, I will give it to you on the sly when they are asleep. Scarcely were they in the corner before twelve robbers came bursting in, seated themselves at the table which was already laid, and vehemently demanded some food. The old woman brought in some great dishes of roast meat, and the robbers enjoyed that thoroughly. When the soldier smelled the food, he said to the huntsman, I cannot hold out any longer, I shall seat myself at the table, and eat with them. You will bring us to destruction, said the huntsman, and held him back by the arm. But the soldier began to cough loudly. When the robbers heard that, they threw away their knives and forks, leapt up, and discovered the two who were behind the stove. Aha, gentlemen, are you in the corner, cried they. What are you doing here. Have you been sent as spies. Wait a while, and you shall learn how to fly on a dry bough. But do be civil, said the soldier, I am hungry, give me something to eat, and then you can do what you like with me. The robbers were astonished, and the captain said, I see that you have no fear. Well, you shall have some food, but after that you must die. We shall see, said the soldier, and seated himself at the table, and began to cut away valiantly at the roast meat. Brother brightboots, come and eat, cried he to the huntsman. You must be as hungry as I am, and cannot have better roast meat at home, but the huntsman would not eat. The robbers looked at the soldier in astonishment, and said, the rascal uses no ceremony. After a while he said, I have had enough food, now get me something good to drink. The chief of the robbers was in the mood to humor him in this also, and called to the old woman, bring a bottle out of the cellar, and mind it be of the best. The soldier drew the cork out with a loud noise, and then went with the bottle to the huntsman and said, watch this, brother, and you shall see something that will surprise you. I am now going to drink the health of the whole clan. Then he brandished the bottle over the heads of the robbers, and cried, long life to you all, but with your mouths open and your right hands lifted up, and then he drank a hearty draught. Scarcely were the words said than they all sat motionless as if made of stone, and their mouths were open and their right hands stretched up in the air. The huntsman said to the soldier, I see that you are acquainted with tricks of another kind, but now come and let us go home. Oho, my dear brother, but that would be marching away far too soon. We have conquered the enemy, and must first take the booty. Those men there are sitting fast, and are opening their mouths with astonishment, but they will not be allowed to move until I permit them. Come, eat and drink. The old woman had to bring another bottle of the best wine, and the soldier would not stir until he had eaten enough to last for three days. At last when day came, he said, now it is time to strike our tents, and in order that our march may be a short one, the old woman shall show us the nearest way to the town. When they had arrived there, he went to his old comrades, and said, out in the forest I have found a nest full of gallows, birds, come with me and we will take it. The soldier led them, and said to the huntsman, you must go back again with me to see how they flutter when we seize them by the feet. He placed the men round about the robbers, and then he took the bottle, drank a mouthful, brandished it above them, and cried, long life to you all. Instantly they all regained the power of movement, but were thrown down and bound hand and foot with cords. Then the soldier ordered them to be thrown into a cart as if they had been so many sacks, and said, now drive them straight to prison. The huntsman, however, took one of the men aside and gave him another commission as well. Brother brightboots, said the soldier, we have safely routed the enemy and been well fed, now we will quietly walk behind them as if we were stragglers. When they approached the town, the soldier saw a crowd of people pouring through the gate of the town who were raising loud cries of joy, and waving green boughs in the air. Then he saw that the entire body-guard was coming up. What can this mean, said he to the huntsman. Don't you know, he replied, that the king has for a long time been absent from his kingdom, and that today he is returning, and every one is going to meet him. But where is the king, said the soldier. I do not see him. Here he is, answered the huntsman, I am the king, and have announced my arrival. Then he opened his hunting-coat, and his royal garments were visible. The soldier was alarmed, and fell on his knees and begged him to forgive him for having in his ignorance treated him as an equal, and spoken to him by such a name. But the king shook hands with him, and said, you are a brave soldier, and have saved my life. You shall never again be in want, I will take care of you. And if ever you would like to eat a piece of roast meat, as good as that in the robber's house, come to the royal kitchen. But if you would drink a health, you must first ask my permission.

A rich farmer was one day standing in his yard inspecting his fields and gardens. The corn was growing up vigorously and the fruit-trees were heavily laden with fruit. The grain of the year before still lay in such immense heaps in the loft that the rafters could hardly bear it. Then he went into the stable, where were well-fed oxen, fat cows, and horses bright as looking-glass. At length he went back into his sitting-room, and cast a glance at the iron chest in which his money lay. Whilst he was thus standing surveying his riches, all at once there was a loud knock close by him. The knock was not at the door of his room, but at the door of his heart. It opened, and he heard a voice which said to him, have you done good to your family with it. Have you considered the necessities of the poor. Have you shared your bread with the hungry. Have you been contented with what you have, or did you always desire to have more. The heart was not slow in answering, I have been hard and pitiless, and have never shown any kindness to my own family. If a beggar came, I turned away my eyes from him. I have not troubled myself about God, but have thought only of increasing my wealth. If everything which the sky covers had been mine own, I should still not have had enough. When he was aware of this answer he was greatly alarmed, his knees began to tremble, and he was forced to sit down. Then there was another knock, but the knock was at the door of his room. It was his neighbor, a poor man who had a number of children whom he could no longer satisfy with food. I know, thought the poor man, that my neighbor is rich, but he is as hard as he is rich. I don't believe he will help me, but my children are crying for bread, so I will venture it. He said to the rich man, you do not readily give away anything that is yours, but I stand here like one who feels the water rising above his head. My children are starving, lend me four measures of corn. The rich man looked at him long, and then the first sunbeam of mercy began to melt away a drop of the ice of greediness. I will not lend you four measures, he answered. I will make you a present of eight, but you must fulfil one condition. What am I to do, said the poor man. When I am dead, you shall watch for three nights by my grave. The peasant was disturbed in his mind at this request, but in the need in which he was, he would have consented to anything. He accepted, therefore, and carried the corn home with him. It seemed as if the rich man had foreseen what was about to happen, for when three days were gone by, he suddenly dropped down dead. No one knew exactly how it came to pass, but no one grieved for him. When he was buried, the poor man remembered his promise. He would willingly have been released from it, but he thought, after all, he acted kindly by me. I have fed my hungry children with his corn, and even if that were not the case, where I have once given my promise I must keep it. At nightfall he went into the churchyard, and seated himself on the grave-mound. Everything was quiet, only the moon appeared above the grave, and frequently an owl flew past and uttered her melancholy cry. When the sun rose, the poor man betook himself in safety to his home, and in the same manner the second night passed quietly by. On the evening of the third day he felt a strange uneasiness, it seemed to him that something was about to happen. When he went out he saw, by the churchyard-wall, a man whom he had never seen before. He was no longer young, had scars on his face, and his eyes looked sharply and eagerly around. He was entirely covered with an old cloak, and nothing was visible but his great riding-boots. What are you looking for here, the peasant asked. Are you not afraid of the lonely churchyard. I am looking for nothing, he answered, and I am afraid of nothing. I am like the youngster who went forth to learn how to shudder, and had his labor for his pains, but got the king's daughter to wife and great wealth with her, only I have remained poor. I am nothing but a paid-off soldier, and I mean to pass the night here, because I have no other shelter. If you are without fear, said the peasant, stay with me, and help me to watch that grave there. To keep watch is a soldier's business, he replied, whatever we fall in with here, whether it be good or bad, we will share it between us. The peasant agreed to this, and they seated themselves on the grave together. All was quiet until midnight, when suddenly a shrill whistling was heard in the air, and the two watchers perceived the evil one standing bodily before them. Be off, you scoundrels, cried he to them, the man who lies in that grave belongs to me. I want to take him, and if you don't go away I will wring your necks. Sir with the red feather, said the soldier, you are not my captain, I have no need to obey you, and I have not yet learned what fear is. Go away, we shall stay sitting here. The devil thought to himself, money is the best means with which to lay hold of these two vagabonds. So he began to play a softer tune, and asked quite kindly, if they would not accept a bag of money, and go home with it. That is worth listening to, answered the soldier, but one bag of gold won't serve us. If you will give as much as will go into one of my boots, we will quit the field for you and go away. I have not so much as that about me, said the devil, but I will fetch it. In the neighboring town lives a money-changer who is a good friend of mine, and will readily advance it to me. When the devil had vanished the soldier took his left boot off, and said, we will soon pull the charcoal-burner's nose for him, just give me your knife, comrade. He cut the sole off the boot, and put it in the high grass near the grave on the edge of a hole that was half over-grown. That will do, said he. Now the chimney-sweep may come. They both sat down and waited, and it was not long before the devil returned with a small bag of gold in his hand. Just pour it in, said the soldier, raising up the boot a little, but that won't be enough. The black one shook out all that was in the bag. The gold fell through, and the boot remained empty. Stupid devil, cried the soldier, it won't do. Didn't I say so at once. Go back again, and bring more. The devil shook his head, went, and in an hour's time came with a much larger bag under his arm. Now pour it in, cried the soldier, but I doubt the boot will be full. The gold clinked as it fell, but the boot remained empty. The devil looked in himself with his burning eyes, and convinced himself of the truth. You have shamefully big calves to your legs, cried he, and made a wry face. Did you think, replied the soldier, that I had a cloven foot like you. Since when have you been so stingy. See that you get more gold together, or our bargain will come to nothing. The wicked one went off again. This time he stayed away longer, and when at length he appeared he was panting under the weight of a sack which lay on his shoulders. He emptied it into the boot, which was just as far from being filled as before. He became furious, and was just going to tear the boot out of the soldier's hands, but at that moment the first ray of the rising sun broke forth from the sky, and the evil spirit fled away with loud shrieks. The poor soul was saved. The peasant wished to divide the gold, but the soldier said, give what falls to my lot to the poor, I will come with you to your cottage, and together we will live in rest and peace on what remains, as long as God is pleased to permit.

There was once upon a time a far-sighted, crafty peasant whose tricks were much talked about. The best story, however, is how he once got hold of the devil, and made a fool of him. The peasant had one day been working in his field, and as twilight had set in, was making ready for the journey home, when he saw a heap of burning coals in the middle of his field, and when, full of astonishment, he went up to it, a little black devil was sitting on the live coals. Are you sitting upon a treasure, said the peasant. Yes, in truth, replied the devil, on a treasure which contains more gold and silver than you have ever seen in your life. The treasure lies in my field and belongs to me, said the peasant. It is yours, answered the devil, if you will for two years give me one half of everything your field produces. Money I have enough, but I have a desire for the fruits of the earth. The peasant agreed to the bargain. In order, however, that no dispute may arise about the division, said he, everything that is above ground shall belong to you, and what is under the earth to me. The devil was quite satisfied with that, but the cunning peasant had sown turnips. Now when the time for harvest came, the devil appeared and wanted to take away his crop. But he found nothing but the yellow withered leaves, while the peasant, full of delight, was digging up his turnips. You have had the best of it for once, said the devil, but the next time that won't do. What grows above ground shall be yours, and what is under it, mine. I am willing, replied the peasant. But when the time came to sow, he did not again sow turnips, but wheat. The grain became ripe, and the peasant went into the field and cut the full stalks down to the ground. When the devil came, he found nothing but the stubble, and went away in a fury down into a cleft in the rocks. That is the way to cheat the devil, said the peasant, and went and fetched away the treasure.

This story, my dear young folks, seems to be false, but it really is true, for my grandfather, from whom I have it, used always, when relating it, to say, it must be true, my son, or else no one could tell it to you. The story is as follows. One sunday morning about harvest time, just as the buckwheat was in bloom, the sun was shining brightly in heaven, the east wind was blowing warmly over the stubble-fields, the larks were singing in the air, the bees buzzing among the buckwheat, the people in their sunday clothes were all going to church, and all creatures were happy, and the hedgehog was happy too. The hedgehog, however, was standing by his door with his arms akimbo, enjoying the morning breezes, and slowly trilling a little song to himself, which was neither better nor worse than the songs which hedgehogs are in the habit of singing on a blessed sunday morning. Whilst he was thus singing half aloud to himself, it suddenly occurred to him that, while his wife was washing and drying the children, he might very well take a walk into the field, and see how his turnips were getting on. The turnips, in fact, were close beside his house, and he and his family were accustomed to eat them, for which reason he looked upon them as his own. No sooner said than done. The hedgehog shut the house-door behind him, and took the path to the field. He had not gone very far from home, and was just turning round the sloe-bush which stands there outside the field, to go up into the turnip-field, when he observed the hare who had gone out on business of the same kind, namely, to visit his cabbages. When the hedgehog caught sight of the hare, he bade him a friendly good morning. But the hare, who was in his own way a distinguished gentleman, and frightfully haughty, did not return the hedgehog's greeting, but said to him, assuming at the same time a very contemptuous manner, how do you happen to be running about here in the field so early in the morning. I am taking a walk, said the hedgehog. A walk, said the hare, with a smile. It seems to me that you might use your legs for a better purpose. This answer made the hedgehog furiously angry, for he can bear anything but a reference too his legs, just because they are crooked by nature. So now the hedgehog said to the hare, you seem to imagine that you can do more with your legs than I with mine. That is just what I do think, said the hare. That can be put to the test, said the hedgehog. I wager that if we run a race, I will outstrip you. That is ridiculous. You with your short legs, said the hare, but for my part I am willing, if you have such a monstrous fancy for it. What shall we wager. A golden louis-d'or and a bottle of brandy, said the hedgehog. Done, said the hare. Shake hands on it, and then we may as well begin at once. Nay, said the hedgehog, there is no such great hurry. I am still fasting, I will go home first, and have a little breakfast. In half-an-hour I will be back again at this place. Hereupon the hedgehog departed, for the hare was quite satisfied with this. On his way the hedgehog thought to himself, the hare relies on his long legs, but I will contrive to get the better of him. He may be a great man, but he is a very silly fellow, and he shall pay for what he has said. So when the hedgehog reached home, he said to his wife, wife, dress yourself quickly, you must go out to the field with me. What is going on, then, said his wife. I have made a wager with the hare, for a gold louis-d'or and a bottle of brandy. I am to run a race with him, and you must be present. Good heavens, husband, the wife now cried, are you not right in your mind, have you completely lost your wits. What can make you want to run a race with the hare. Hold your tongue, woman, said the hedgehog, that is my affair. Don't begin to discuss things which are matters for men. Be off, dress yourself, and come with me. What could the hedgehog's wife do. She was forced to obey him, whether she liked it or not. So when they had set out on their way together, the hedgehog said to his wife, now pay attention to what I am going to say. Look you, I will make the long field our race-course. The hare shall run in one furrow, and when the hare arrives at the end of the furrow on the other side of you, you must cry out to him, I am here already. Then they reached the field, and the hedgehog showed his wife her place, and then walked up the field. When he reached the top, the hare was already there. Shall we start, said the hare. Certainly, said the hedgehog. Then both at once. So saying, each placed himself in his own furrow. The hare counted, once, twice, thrice, and away, and went off like a whirlwind down the field. The hedgehog, however, only ran about three paces, and then he crouched down in the furrow, and stayed quietly where he was. When the hare therefore arrived at full speed at the lower end of the field, the hedgehog's wife met him with the cry, I am here already. The hare was shocked and wondered not a little, he thought no other than that it was the hedgehog himself who was calling to him, for the hedgehog's wife looked just like her husband. The hare, however, thought to himself, that has not been done fairly, and cried, it must be run again, let us have it again. And once more he went off like the wind in a storm, so that he seemed to fly. But the hedgehog's wife stayed quietly in her place. So when the hare reached the top of the field, the hedgehog himself cried out to him, I am here already. The hare, however, quite beside himself with anger, cried, it must be run again, we must have it again. All right, answered the hedgehog, for my part we'll run as often as you choose. So the hare ran seventy-three times more, and the hedgehog always held out against him, and every time the hare reached either the top or the bottom, either the hedgehog or his wife said, I am here already. At the seventy-fourth time, however, the hare could no longer reach the end. In the middle of the field he fell to the ground, blood streamed out of his mouth, and he lay dead on the spot. But the hedgehog took the louis-d'or which he had won and the bottle of brandy, called his wife out of the furrow, and both went home together in great delight, and if they are not dead, they are living there still. This is how it happened that the hedgehog made the hare run races with him on the heath of buxtehude - buxtehude is a village near hamburg - till he died, and since that time no hare has ever had any fancy for running races with a buxtehude hedgehog. The moral of this story is, firstly, that no one, however great he may be, should permit himself to jest at any one beneath him, even if he be only a hedgehog. And, secondly, it teaches, that when a man marries, he should take a wife in his own position, who looks just as he himself looks. So whosoever is a hedgehog let him see to it that his wife is a hedgehog also, and so forth.

A merchant had done good business at the fair. He had sold his wares, and lined his money-bags with gold and silver. Then he wanted to travel homewards, and be in his own house before nightfall. So he packed his trunk with the money on his horse, and rode away. At noon he rested in a town, and when he wanted to go farther the stable-boy brought out his horse and said, a nail is wanting, sir, in the shoe of its near hind foot. Let it be wanting, answered the merchant. The shoe will certainly stay on for the six miles I have still to go. I am in a hurry. In the afternoon, when he once more alighted and had his horse fed, the stable-boy went into the room to him and said, sir, a shoe is missing from your horse's near hind foot. Shall I take him to the blacksmith. Let it be wanting, answered the man. The horse can very well hold out for the couple of miles which remain. I am in haste. He rode forth, but before long the horse began to limp. It had not limped long before it began to stumble, and it had not stumbled long before it fell down and broke its leg. The merchant was forced to leave the horse where it was, and unbuckle the trunk, take it on his back, and go home on foot. And there he did not arrive until quite late at night. And that cursed nail, said he to himself, has caused all this disaster. The more haste the less speed.

A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing, took it into his head to go abroad for a while, and look about the world. As soon as he could manage it, he left his work-shop, and wandered on his way, over hill and dale, sometimes hither, sometimes, thither, but ever on and on. Once on his way he perceived in the blue distance a steep hill, and behind it a tower reaching to the clouds, which rose up out of a wild dark forest. Thunder and lightning, cried the tailor, what is that, and as he was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went boldly towards it. But how he did gaze and gape when he came near it, for the tower had legs, and leapt in one bound over the steep hill, and was now standing as an all-powerful giant before him. What do you want here, you tiny fly's leg, cried the giant, with a voice as if it were thundering on every side. The tailor whimpered, I want just to look about and see if I can earn a bit of bread for myself, in this forest. If that is what you are after, said the giant, you may have a place with me. If it must be, why not. What wages shall I receive. You shall hear what wages you shall have. Every year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when it is leap-year, one more into the bargain. Does that suit you. All right, replied the tailor, and thought, in his own mind, a man must cut his coat according to his cloth. I will try to get away as fast as I can. At this the giant said to him, go, little ragamuffin, and fetch me a jug of water. Had I not better bring the well itself at once, and the spring too, asked the boaster, and went with the pitcher to the water. What, the well and the spring too, growled the giant in his beard, for he was somewhat of a silly dolt, and began to be afraid. That knave is not a fool, he has a mandrake in his body. Be on your guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for you. When the tailor had brought the water, the giant bade him go into the forest, and cut a couple of blocks of wood and bring them back. Why not the whole forest, at once, with one stroke. The whole forest, young and old, with all that is there, both gnarled and smooth, and the well and its spring too, growled the credulous giant in his beard, and was still more terrified. The knave can do much more than bake apples, and has a mandrake in his body. Be on your guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for you. When the tailor had brought the wood, the giant commanded him to shoot two or three wild boars for supper. Why not rather a thousand at one shot, and bring them all here, inquired the insolent tailor. What, cried the timid giant in great terror. Let well alone to-night, and lie down to rest. The giant was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an eye all night long for thinking what would be the best way to get rid of this accursed sorcerer of a servant. Time brings counsel. Next morning the giant and the tailor went to a marsh, round which stood a number of willow-trees. Then said the giant, listen, tailor, seat yourself on one of the willow-branches. I long of all things to see if you are big enough to bend it down. All at once the tailor was sitting on it, holding his breath, and making himself heavy, so heavy that the bough bent down. When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it hurled him - for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his pocket - so high into the air that he never was seen again, and this to the great delight of the giant. If the tailor has not fallen down again, he must still be hovering about in the air.

A tailor and a goldsmith were traveling together, and one evening when the sun had sunk behind the mountains, they heard the sound of distant music, which became more and more distinct. It sounded strange, but so pleasant that they forgot all their weariness and stepped quickly onwards. The moon had already arisen when they reached a hill on which they saw a crowd of little men and women, who had taken each other's hands, and were whirling round in the dance with the greatest pleasure and delight. They sang to it most charmingly, and that was the music which the travelers had heard. In the midst of them sat an old man who was rather taller than the rest. He wore a parti-colored coat, and his hoary beard hung down over his breast. The two remained standing full of astonishment, and watched the dance. The old man made a sign that they should enter, and the little folks willingly opened their circle. The goldsmith, who had a hump, and like all hunch-backs was daring enough, stepped in. The tailor felt a little afraid at first, and held back, but when he saw how merrily all was going, he plucked up his courage, and followed. The circle closed again directly, and the little folks went on singing and dancing with the wildest leaps. The old man, however, took a large knife which hung to his girdle, whetted it, and when it was sufficiently sharpened, he looked round at the strangers. They were terrified, but they had not much time for reflection, for the old man seized the goldsmith and with the greatest speed, shaved the hair of his head clean off, and then the same thing happened to the tailor. But their fear left them when, after he had finished his work, the old man clapped them both on the shoulder in a friendly manner, as much as to say, they had behaved well to let all that be done to them willingly, and without any struggle. He pointed with his finger to a heap of coals which lay at one side, and signified to the travelers by his gestures that they were to fill their pockets with them. Both of them obeyed, although they did not know of what use the coals would be to them, and then they went on their way to seek a shelter for the night. When they had got into the valley, the clock of the neighboring monastery struck twelve, and the song ceased. In a moment all had vanished, and the hill lay in solitude in the moonlight. The two travelers found an inn, and covered themselves up on their straw-beds with their coats, but in their weariness forgot to take the coals out of them before doing so. A heavy weight on their limbs awakened them earlier than usual. They felt in the pockets, and could not believe their eyes when they saw that they were not filled with coals, but with pure gold. Happily, too, the hair of their heads and beards was there again as thick as ever. They had now become rich folks, but the goldsmith, who, in accordance with his greedy disposition, had filled his pockets better, was twice as rich as the tailor. A greedy man, even if he has much, still wishes to have more, so the goldsmith proposed to the tailor that they should wait another day, and go out again in the evening in order to bring back still greater treasures from the old man on the hill. The tailor refused, and said, I have enough and am content. Now I shall be a master, and marry my dear object - for so he called his sweetheart - and I am a happy man. But he stayed another day to please him. In the evening the goldsmith hung a couple of bags over his shoulders that he might be able to stow away a great deal, and took the road to the hill. He found, as on the night before, the little folks at their singing and dancing, and the old man again shaved him clean, and made signs to him to take some coal. He was not slow about stuffing as much into his bags as would go, went back quite delighted, and covered himself over with his coat. Even if the gold does weigh heavily, said he, I will gladly bear that, and at last he fell asleep with the sweet anticipation of waking in the morning an enormously rich man. When he opened his eyes, he got up in haste to examine his pockets, but how amazed he was when he drew nothing out of them but black coals, and that howsoever often he put his hands in them. The gold I got the night before is still there for me, thought he, and went and brought it out, but how shocked he was when he saw that it likewise had again turned into coal. He smote his forehead with his dusty black hand, and then he felt that his whole head was bald and smooth, as was also the place where his beard should have been. But his misfortunes were not yet over. He now remarked for the first time that in addition to the hump on his back, a second, just as large, had grown in front on his breast. Then he recognized the punishment of his greediness, and began to weep aloud. The good tailor, who was awakened by this, comforted the unhappy fellow as well as he could, and said, you have been my comrade in my traveling time. You shall stay with me and share in my wealth. He kept his word, but the poor goldsmith was obliged to carry the two humps as long as he lived, and to cover his bald head with a cap.

Master Pfriem was a short, thin, but lively man, who never rested a moment. His face, of which his turned-up nose was the only prominent feature, was marked with smallpox and pale as death. His hair was gray and shaggy, his eyes small, but they glanced perpetually about on all sides. He saw everything, criticized everything, knew everything best, and was always in the right. When he went into the streets, he moved his arms about as if he were rowing, and once he struck the pail of a girl so high in the air that he himself was wetted all over by the water she was carrying. Idiot. Cried he to her, shaking himself, could you not see that I was coming behind you. By trade he was a shoemaker, and when he worked he pulled his thread out with such force that he drove his fist into everyone who did not keep far enough off. No apprentice stayed more than a month with him, for he had always some fault to find with the very best work. At one time it was that the stitches were not even, at another that one shoe was too long, or one heel higher than the other, or the leather not cut large enough. Wait, said he to his apprentice, I will soon show you how we make skins soft. And he brought a strap and gave him a couple of lashes across the back. He called them all sluggards. He himself did not turn much work out of his hands, for he never sat still for a quarter of an hour. If his wife got up very early in the morning and lighted the fire, he jumped out of bed, and ran barefooted into the kitchen, crying, will you burn my house down for me. That is a fire one could roast an ox by. Does wood cost nothing. If the servants were standing by their wash-tubs and laughing, and telling each other what they knew, he scolded them, and said, there stand the geese cackling, and forgetting their work, to gossip. And why fresh soap. Disgraceful extravagance and shameful idleness into the bargain. They want to save their hands, and not rub the things properly. And out he would run and knock a pail full of soap and water over, so that the whole kitchen was flooded. Someone was building a new house, so he hurrried to the window to look on. There, they are using that red sand-stone again that never dries, cried he. No one will ever be healthy in that house. And just look how badly the fellows are laying the stones. Besides, the mortar is good for nothing. It ought to have gravel in it, not sand. I shall live to see that house tumble down on the people who are in it. He sat down, put a couple of stitches in, and then jumped up again, unfastened his leather-apron, and cried, I will just go out, and appeal to those men's consciences. He stumbled on the carpenters. What's this, cried he, you are not working by the line. Do you expect the beams to be straight - one wrong will put all wrong. He snatched an axe out of a carpenter's hand and wanted to show him how he ought to cut, but as a cart loaded with clay came by, he threw the axe away, and hastened to the peasant who was walking by the side of it, you are not in your right mind, said he, who yokes young horses to a heavily-laden cart. The poor beasts will die on the spot. The peasant did not give him an answer, and Pfriem in a rage ran back into his work-shop. When he was setting himself to work again, the apprentice reached him a shoe. Well, what's that again, screamed he, haven't I told you you ought not to cut shoes so broad. Who would buy a shoe like this, which is hardly anything else but a sole. I insist on my orders being followed exactly. Master, answered the apprentice, you may easily be quite right about the shoe being a bad one, but it is the one which you yourself cut out, and yourself set to work at. When you jumped up a while ago, you knocked it off the table, and I have only just picked it up. An angel from heaven, however, would never make you believe that. One night master Pfriem dreamed he was dead, and on his way to heaven. When he got there, he knocked loudly at the door. I wonder, said he to himself, that they have no knocker on the door, one knocks one's knuckles sore. The apostle peter opened the door, and wanted to see who demanded admission so noisily. Ah, it's you master Pfriem, said he, well, I'll let you in, but I warn you that you must give up that habit of yours, and find fault with nothing you see in heaven, or you may fare ill. You might have spared your warning, answered Pfriem. I know already what is seemly, and here, God be thanked, everything is perfect, and there is nothing to blame as there is on earth. So he went in, and walked up and down the wide expanses of heaven. He looked around him, to the left and to the right, but sometimes shook his head, or muttered something to himself. Then he saw two angels who were carrying away a beam. It was the beam which someone had had in his own eye whilst he was looking for the splinter in the eye of another. They did not carry the beam lengthways, however, but obliquely. Did anyone ever see such a piece of stupidity, thought master Pfriem. But he said nothing, and seemed satisfied with it. It comes to the same thing after all, whichever way they carry the beam, straight or athwart, if they only get along with it, and truly I do not see them knock against anything. Soon after this he saw two angels who were drawing water out of a well into a bucket, but at the same time he observed that the bucket was full of holes, and that the water was running out of it on every side. They were watering the earth with rain. Hang it, he exclaimed, but happily recollected himself, and thought, perhaps it is only a pastime. If it is an amusement, then it seems they can do useless things of this kind, especially here in heaven, where people, as I have already noticed, do nothing but idle about. He went farther and saw a cart which had stuck fast in a deep hole. It's no wonder, said he to the man who stood by, who would load so unreasonably. What have you there. Good wishes, replied the man, I could not get on the right way with it, but still I have pushed it safely up here, and here they won't leave me stuck. In fact an angel did come and harness two horses to it. That's quite right, thought Pfriem, but two horses won't get that cart out, it must at least have four to it. Another angel came and brought two more horses, she did not harness them in front of it, however, but behind. That was too much for master Pfriem, clumsy creature, he burst out, what are you doing there. Has anyone ever since the world began seen a cart drawn in that way. But you, in your conceited arrogance, think that you know everything best. He was going to say more, but one of the inhabitants of heaven seized him by the throat and pushed him forth with irresistible strength. Beneath the gateway master Pfriem turned his head round to take one more look at the cart, and saw that it was being raised into the air by four winged horses. At this moment master Pfriem awoke. Things are certainly arranged in heaven otherwise than they are on earth, said he to himself, and that excuses much, but who can see horses harnessed both behind and before with patience. To be sure they had wings but who could know that. It is, beside, great folly to fix a pair of wings to a horse that has four legs to run with already. But I must get up, or else they will make nothing but mistakes in my house. It is a lucky thing though, that I am not really dead.

In ancient times a giant was once traveling on a great highway, when suddenly an unknown man sprang up before him, and said, halt, not one step farther. What. Cried the giant, a creature whom I can crush between my fingers, wants to block my way. Who are you that you dare to speak so boldly. I am death, answered the other. No one resists me, and you also must obey my commands. But the giant refused, and began to struggle with death. It was a long, violent battle, in which at last the giant got the upper hand, and struck death down with his fist, so that he collapsed by a stone. The giant went his way, and death lay there conquered, and so weak that he could not get up again. What will be done now, said he, if I stay lying here in a corner. No one will die in the world, and it will get so full of people that they won't have room to stand beside each other. In the meantime a young man came along the road, who was strong and healthy, singing a song, and glancing around on every side. When he saw the half-fainting one, he went compassionately to him, raised him up, poured a strengthening draught out of his flask for him, and waited till he regained some strength. Do you know, said the stranger, whilst he was getting up, who I am, and who it is whom you have helped on his legs again. No, answered the youth, I do not know you. I am death, said he, I spare no one, and can make no exception with you - but that you may see that I am grateful, I promise you that I will not fall on you unexpectedly, but will send my messengers to you before I come and take you away. Well, said the youth, it is something gained that I shall know when you come, and at any rate be safe from you for so long. Then he went on his way, and was light-hearted, and enjoyed himself, and lived without thought. But youth and health did not last long. Soon came sicknesses and sorrows, which tormented him by day, and took away his rest by night. Die, I shall not, said he to himself, for death will send his messengers before that, but I do wish these wretched days of sickness were over. As soon as he felt himself well again he began once more to live merrily. Then one day someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round, and death stood behind him, and said, follow me, the hour of your departure from this world has come. What, replied the man, will you break your word. Did you not promise me that you would send your messengers to me before coming yourself. I have seen none. Silence, answered death. Have I not sent one messenger to you after another. Did not fever come and smite you, and shake you, and cast you down. Has not dizziness bewildered your head. Has not gout twitched you in all your limbs. Did not your ears sing. Did not tooth-ache bite into your cheeks. Was it not dark before your eyes. And besides all that, has not my own brother sleep reminded you every night of me. Did you not lie by night as if you were already dead. The man could make no answer, he yielded to his fate, and went away with death.

When God created the world and was about to fix the length of each creature's life, the ass came and asked, Lord, how long shall I live. Thirty years, replied God, does that content you. Ah, Lord, answered the ass, that is a long time. Think of my painful existence. To carry heavy burdens from morning to night, to drag sacks of corn to the mill that others may eat bread, to be cheered and refreshed with nothing but blows and kicks. Relieve me of a portion of this long time. Then God had pity on him and relieved him of eighteen years. The ass went away comforted, and the dog appeared. How long would you like to live, said God to him, thirty years are too many for the ass, but you will be satisfied with that. Lord, answered the dog, is that thy will. Consider how I shall have to run, my feet will never hold out so long, and when I have once lost my voice for barking, and my teeth for biting, what will be left for me to do but run from one corner to another and growl. God saw that he was right, and released him from twelve years of life. Then came the monkey. You will certainly live thirty years willingly, said the Lord to him, you have no need to work as the ass and the dog have to, and will always enjoy yourself. Ah, Lord, he answered, it may seem as if that were the case, but it is quite different. When it rains millet-porridge I have no spoon. I am always to play merry pranks, and make faces which force people to laugh, and if they give me an apple, and I bite into it, why, it is sour. How often sadness hides itself behind mirth. I shall never be able to hold out for thirty years. God was gracious and took off ten. At last man appeared, joyous, healthy and vigorous, and begged God to appoint his time for him. Thirty years shall you live, said the Lord. Is that enough for you. What a short time, cried man, when I have built my house and my fire burns on my own hearth, when I have planted trees which blossom and bear fruit, and am just intending to enjoy my life, I am to die. O Lord, lengthen my time. I will add to it the ass'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 also, but more you shall not have. The man went away, but was not satisfied. So man lives seventy years. The first thirty are his human years, which are soon gone, then is he healthy, merry, works with pleasure, and is glad of his life. Then follow the ass's eighteen years, when one burden after another is laid on him, he has to carry the corn which feeds others, and blows and kicks are the reward of his faithful services. Then comes the dog's twelve years, when he lies in the corner, and growls and has no longer any teeth to bite with, and when this time is over the monkey's ten years form the end. Then man is weak-headed and foolish, does silly things, and becomes the jest of children.