The Blue Fairy Book
grew so terrified that she fled as if the Evil One himself were pursuing
her, and she did not remember to stoop down as she went through the
doorway, and so she split her head and died. Next morning the sheriff
came traveling by there. He was greatly astonished when he saw the gold
hut shining and glittering there in the copse, and he was still more
astonished when he went in and caught sight of the beautiful young
maiden who was sitting there; he fell in love with her at once, and
straightway on the spot he begged her, both prettily and kindly, to
marry him.
“Well, but have you a great deal of money?” said the Master-maid.
“Oh! yes; so far as that is concerned, I am not ill off,” said the
sheriff. So now he had to go home to get the money, and in the evening
he came back, bringing with him a bag with two bushels in it, which he
set down on the bench. Well, as he had such a fine lot of money, the
Master-maid said she would have him, so they sat down to talk.
But scarcely had they sat down together before the Master-maid wanted to
jump up again. “I have forgotten to see to the fire,” she said.
“Why should you jump up to do that?” said the sheriff; “I will do that!”
So he jumped up, and went to the chimney in one bound.
“Just tell me when you have got hold of the shovel,” said the
Master-maid.
“Well, I have hold of it now,” said the sheriff.
“Then you may hold the shovel, and the shovel you, and pour red-hot
coals over you, till day dawns,” said the Master-maid. So the sheriff
had to stand there the whole night and pour red-hot coals over himself,
and, no matter how much he cried and begged and entreated, the red-hot
coals did not grow the colder for that. When the day began to dawn, and
he had power to throw down the shovel, he did not stay long where he
was, but ran away as fast as he possibly could; and everyone who met him
stared and looked after him, for he was flying as if he were mad, and he
could not have looked worse if he had been both flayed and tanned, and
everyone wondered where he had been, but for very shame he would tell
nothing.
The next day the attorney came riding by the place where the Master-maid
dwelt. He saw how brightly the hut shone and gleamed through the wood,
and he too went into it to see who lived there, and when he entered and
saw the beautiful young maiden he fell even more in love with her than
the sheriff had done, and began to woo her at once. So the Master-maid
asked him, as she had asked the sheriff, if he had a great deal of
money, and the attorney said he was not ill off for that, and would at
once go home to get it; and at night he came with a great big sack of
money--this time it was a four-bushel sack--and set it on the bench by
the Master-maid. So she promised to have him, and he sat down on the
bench by her to arrange about it, but suddenly she said that she had
forgotten to lock the door of the porch that night, and must do it.
“Why should you do that?” said the attorney; “sit still, I will do it.”
So he was on his feet in a moment, and out in the porch.
“Tell me when you have got hold of the door-latch,” said the
Master-maid.
“I have hold of it now,” cried the attorney.
“Then you may hold the door, and the door you, and may you go between
wall and wall till day dawns.”
What a dance the attorney had that night! He had never had such a waltz
before, and he never wished to have such a dance again. Sometimes he was
in front of the door, and sometimes the door was in front of him, and
it went from one side of the porch to the other, till the attorney was
well-nigh beaten to death. At first he began to abuse the Master-maid,
and then to beg and pray, but the door did not care for anything but
keeping him where he was till break of day.
As soon as the door let go its hold of him, off went the attorney. He
forgot who ought to be paid off for what he had suffered, he forgot
both his sack of money and his wooing, for he was so afraid lest the
house-door should come dancing after him. Everyone who met him stared
and looked after him, for he was flying like a madman, and he could not
have looked worse if a herd of rams had been butting at him all night
long.
On the third day the bailiff came by, and he too saw the gold house
in the little wood, and he too felt that he must go and see who lived
there; and when he caught sight of the Master-maid he became so much in
love with her that he wooed her almost before he greeted her.
The Master-maid answered him as she had answered the other two, that
if he had a great deal of money, she would have him. “So far as that is
concerned, I am not ill off,” said the bailiff; so he was at once told
to go home and fetch it, and this he did. At night he came back, and he
had a still larger sack of money with him than the attorney had brought;
it must have been at least six bushels, and he set it down on the bench.
So it was settled that he was to have the Master-maid. But hardly had
they sat down together before she said that she had forgotten to bring
in the calf, and must go out to put it in the byre.
“No, indeed, you shall not do that,” said the bailiff; “I am the one to
do that.” And, big and fat as he was, he went out as briskly as a boy.
“Tell me when you have got hold of the calf’s tail,” said the
Master-maid.
“I have hold of it now,” cried the bailiff.
“Then may you hold the calf’s tail, and the calf’s tail hold you,
and may you go round the world together till day dawns!” said the
Master-maid. So the bailiff had to bestir himself, for the calf went
over rough and smooth, over hill and dale, and, the more the bailiff
cried and screamed, the faster the calf went. When daylight began to
appear, the bailiff was half dead; and so glad was he to leave loose
of the calf’s tail, that he forgot the sack of money and all else. He
walked now slowly--more slowly than the sheriff and the attorney had
done, but, the slower he went, the more time had everyone to stare and
look at him; and they used it too, and no one can imagine how tired out
and ragged he looked after his dance with the calf.
On the following day the wedding was to take place in the King’s palace,
and the elder brother was to drive to church with his bride, and the
brother who had been with the giant with her sister. But when they had
seated themselves in the coach and were about to drive off from the
palace one of the trace-pins broke, and, though they made one, two, and
three to put in its place, that did not help them, for each broke in
turn, no matter what kind of wood they used to make them of. This went
on for a long time, and they could not get away from the palace, so they
were all in great trouble. Then the sheriff said (for he too had been
bidden to the wedding at Court): “Yonder away in the thicket dwells a
maiden, and if you can get her to lend you the handle of the shovel that
she uses to make up her fire I know very well that it will hold fast.”
So they sent off a messenger to the thicket, and begged so prettily that
they might have the loan of her shovel-handle of which the sheriff had
spoken that they were not refused; so now they had a trace-pin which
would not snap in two.
But all at once, just as they were starting, the bottom of the coach
fell in pieces. They made a new bottom as fast as they could, but, no
matter how they nailed it together, or what kind of wood they used,
no sooner had they got the new bottom into the coach and were about to
drive off than it broke again, so that they were still worse off than
when they had broken the trace-pin. Then the attorney said, for he too
was at the wedding in the palace: “Away there in the thicket dwells
a maiden, and if you could but get her to lend you one-half of her
porch-door I am certain that it will hold together.” So they again sent
a messenger to the thicket, and begged so prettily for the loan of the
gilded porch-door of which the attorney had told them that they got it
at once. They were just setting out again, but now the horses were not
able to draw the coach. They had six horses already, and now they put in
eight, and then ten, and then twelve, but the more they put in, and
the more the coachman whipped them, the less good it did; and the coach
never stirred from the spot. It was already beginning to be late in the
day, and to church they must and would go, so everyone who was in the
palace was in a state of distress. Then the bailiff spoke up and said:
“Out there in the gilded cottage in the thicket dwells a girl, and if
you could but get her to lend you her calf I know it could draw the
coach, even if it were as heavy as a mountain.” They all thought that
it was ridiculous to be drawn to church by a calf, but there was nothing
else for it but to send a messenger once more, and beg as prettily as
they could, on behalf of the King, that she would let them have the loan
of the calf that the bailiff had told them about. The Master-maid let
them have it immediately--this time also she would not say “no.”
Then they harnessed the calf to see if the coach would move; and away
it went, over rough and smooth, over stock and stone, so that they could
scarcely breathe, and sometimes they were on the ground, and sometimes
up in the air; and when they came to the church the coach began to
go round and round like a spinning-wheel, and it was with the utmost
difficulty and danger that they were able to get out of the coach and
into the church. And when they went back again the coach went quicker
still, so that most of them did not know how they got back to the palace
at all.
When they had seated themselves at the table the Prince who had been in
service with the giant said that he thought they ought to have invited
the maiden who had lent them the shovel-handle, and the porch-door,
and the calf up to the palace, “for,” said he, “if we had not got these
three things, we should never have got away from the palace.”
The King also thought that this was both just and proper, so he sent
five of his best men down to the gilded hut, to greet the maiden
courteously from the King, and to beg her to be so good as to come up to
the palace to dinner at mid-day.
“Greet the King, and tell him that, if he is too good to come to me, I
am too good to come to him,” replied the Master-maid.
So the King had to go himself, and the Master-maid went with him
immediately, and, as the King believed that she was more than she
appeared to be, he seated her in the place of honor by the youngest
bridegroom. When they had sat at the table for a short time, the
Master-maid took out the cock, and the hen, and the golden apple which
she had brought away with her from the giant’s house, and set them on
the table in front of her, and instantly the cock and the hen began to
fight with each other for the golden apple.
“Oh! look how those two there are fighting for the golden apple,” said
the King’s son.
“Yes, and so did we two fight to get out that time when we were in the
mountain,” said the Master-maid.
So the Prince knew her again, and you may imagine how delighted he was.
He ordered the troll-witch who had rolled the apple to him to be torn
in pieces between four-and-twenty horses, so that not a bit of her was
left, and then for the first time they began really to keep the wedding,
and, weary as they were, the sheriff, the attorney, and the bailiff kept
it up too.(1)
(1) Asbjornsen and Moe.
WHY THE SEA IS SALT
Once upon a time, long, long ago, there were two brothers, the one rich
and the other poor. When Christmas Eve came, the poor one had not a bite
in the house, either of meat or bread; so he went to his brother, and
begged him, in God’s name, to give him something for Christmas Day. It