The Blue Fairy Book
out; it was wedged in far too firmly. “I will run and fetch somebody,”
said Rose-red. “Crazy blockheads!” snapped the dwarf; “what’s the good
of calling anyone else? You’re already two too many for me. Does
nothing better occur to you than that?” “Don’t be so impatient,” said
Snow-white, “I’ll see you get help,” and taking her scissors out of
her pocket she cut off the end of his beard. As soon as the dwarf felt
himself free he seized a bag full of gold which was hidden among the
roots of the tree, lifted it up, and muttered aloud: “Curse these rude
wretches, cutting off a piece of my splendid beard!” With these words he
swung the bag over his back, and disappeared without as much as looking
at the children again.
Shortly after this Snow-white and Rose-red went out to get a dish of
fish. As they approached the stream they saw something which looked like
an enormous grasshopper springing toward the water as if it were going
to jump in. They ran forward and recognized their old friend the dwarf.
“Where are you going to?” asked Rose-red; “you’re surely not going to
jump into the water?” “I’m not such a fool,” screamed the dwarf. “Don’t
you see that cursed fish is trying to drag me in?” The little man
had been sitting on the bank fishing, when unfortunately the wind had
entangled his beard in the line; and when immediately afterward a big
fish bit, the feeble little creature had no strength to pull it out; the
fish had the upper fin, and dragged the dwarf toward him. He clung on
with all his might to every rush and blade of grass, but it didn’t help
him much; he had to follow every movement of the fish, and was in great
danger of being drawn into the water. The girls came up just at the
right moment, held him firm, and did all they could to disentangle his
beard from the line; but in vain, beard and line were in a hopeless
muddle. Nothing remained but to produce the scissors and cut the beard,
by which a small part of it was sacrificed.
When the dwarf perceived what they were about he yelled to them: “Do
you call that manners, you toad-stools! to disfigure a fellow’s face? It
wasn’t enough that you shortened my beard before, but you must now
needs cut off the best bit of it. I can’t appear like this before my own
people. I wish you’d been in Jericho first.” Then he fetched a sack of
pearls that lay among the rushes, and without saying another word he
dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone.
It happened that soon after this the mother sent the two girls to the
town to buy needles, thread, laces, and ribbons. Their road led over a
heath where huge boulders of rock lay scattered here and there. While
trudging along they saw a big bird hovering in the air, circling slowly
above them, but always descending lower, till at last it settled on
a rock not far from them. Immediately afterward they heard a sharp,
piercing cry. They ran forward, and saw with horror that the eagle had
pounced on their old friend the dwarf, and was about to carry him off.
The tender-hearted children seized hold of the little man, and struggled
so long with the bird that at last he let go his prey. When the dwarf
had recovered from the first shock he screamed in his screeching voice:
“Couldn’t you have treated me more carefully? You have torn my thin
little coat all to shreds, useless, awkward hussies that you are!” Then
he took a bag of precious stones and vanished under the rocks into his
cave. The girls were accustomed to his ingratitude, and went on their
way and did their business in town. On their way home, as they were
again passing the heath, they surprised the dwarf pouring out his
precious stones on an open space, for he had thought no one would pass
by at so late an hour. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones,
and they glanced and gleamed so beautifully that the children stood
still and gazed on them. “What are you standing there gaping for?”
screamed the dwarf, and his ashen-gray face became scarlet with rage.
He was about to go off with these angry words when a sudden growl was
heard, and a black bear trotted out of the wood. The dwarf jumped up in
great fright, but he hadn’t time to reach his place of retreat, for the
bear was already close to him. Then he cried in terror: “Dear Mr.
Bear, spare me! I’ll give you all my treasure. Look at those beautiful
precious stones lying there. Spare my life! what pleasure would you get
from a poor feeble little fellow like me? You won’t feel me between your
teeth. There, lay hold of these two wicked girls, they will be a tender
morsel for you, as fat as young quails; eat them up, for heaven’s sake.”
But the bear, paying no attention to his words, gave the evil little
creature one blow with his paw, and he never moved again.
The girls had run away, but the bear called after them: “Snow-white
and Rose-red, don’t be afraid; wait, and I’ll come with you.” Then they
recognized his voice and stood still, and when the bear was quite close
to them his skin suddenly fell off, and a beautiful man stood beside
them, all dressed in gold. “I am a king’s son,” he said, “and have been
doomed by that unholy little dwarf, who had stolen my treasure, to roam
about the woods as a wild bear till his death should set me free. Now he
has got his well-merited punishment.”
Snow-white married him, and Rose-red his brother, and they divided the
great treasure the dwarf had collected in his cave between them. The
old mother lived for many years peacefully with her children; and she
carried the two rose trees with her, and they stood in front of her
window, and every year they bore the finest red and white roses.(1)
(1) Grimm.
THE GOOSE-GIRL
Once upon a time an old queen, whose husband had been dead for many
years, had a beautiful daughter. When she grew up she was betrothed to
a prince who lived a great way off. Now, when the time drew near for her
to be married and to depart into a foreign kingdom, her old mother gave
her much costly baggage, and many ornaments, gold and silver, trinkets
and knicknacks, and, in fact, everything that belonged to a royal
trousseau, for she loved her daughter very dearly. She gave her a
waiting-maid also, who was to ride with her and hand her over to the
bridegroom, and she provided each of them with a horse for the journey.
Now the Princess’s horse was called Falada, and could speak.
When the hour for departure drew near the old mother went to her
bedroom, and taking a small knife she cut her fingers till they bled;
then she held a white rag under them, and letting three drops of blood
fall into it, she gave it to her daughter, and said: “Dear child, take
great care of this rag: it may be of use to you on the journey.”
So they took a sad farewell of each other, and the Princess stuck the
rag in front of her dress, mounted her horse, and set forth on the
journey to her bridegroom’s kingdom. After they had ridden for about
an hour the Princess began to feel very thirsty, and said to her
waiting-maid: “Pray get down and fetch me some water in my golden cup
out of yonder stream: I would like a drink.” “If you’re thirsty,” said
the maid, “dismount yourself, and lie down by the water and drink; I
don’t mean to be your servant any longer.” The Princess was so thirsty
that she got down, bent over the stream, and drank, for she wasn’t
allowed to drink out of the golden goblet. As she drank she murmured:
“Oh! heaven, what am I to do?” and the three drops of blood replied:
“If your mother only knew,
Her heart would surely break in two.”
But the Princess was meek, and said nothing about her maid’s rude
behavior, and quietly mounted her horse again. They rode on their
way for several miles, but the day was hot, and the sun’s rays smote
fiercely on them, so that the Princess was soon overcome by thirst
again. And as they passed a brook she called once more to her
waiting-maid: “Pray get down and give me a drink from my golden
cup,” for she had long ago forgotten her maid’s rude words. But the
waiting-maid replied, more haughtily even than before: “If you want a
drink, you can dismount and get it; I don’t mean to be your servant.”
Then the Princess was compelled by her thirst to get down, and bending
over the flowing water she cried and said: “Oh! heaven, what am I to
do?” and the three drops of blood replied:
“If your mother only knew,
Her heart would surely break in two.”
And as she drank thus, and leaned right over the water, the rag
containing the three drops of blood fell from her bosom and floated down
the stream, and she in her anxiety never even noticed her loss. But the
waiting-maid had observed it with delight, as she knew it gave her power
over the bride, for in losing the drops of blood the Princess had become
weak and powerless. When she wished to get on her horse Falada again,
the waiting-maid called out: “I mean to ride Falada: you must mount
my beast”; and this too she had to submit to. Then the waiting-maid
commanded her harshly to take off her royal robes, and to put on her
common ones, and finally she made her swear by heaven not to say a word
about the matter when they reached the palace; and if she hadn’t taken
this oath she would have been killed on the spot. But Falada observed
everything, and laid it all to heart.
The waiting-maid now mounted Falada, and the real bride the worse horse,
and so they continued their journey till at length they arrived at the
palace yard. There was great rejoicing over the arrival, and the Prince
sprang forward to meet them, and taking the waiting-maid for his bride,
he lifted her down from her horse and led her upstairs to the royal
chamber. In the meantime the real Princess was left standing below in
the courtyard. The old King, who was looking out of his window, beheld
her in this plight, and it struck him how sweet and gentle, even
beautiful, she looked. He went at once to the royal chamber, and asked
the bride who it was she had brought with her and had left thus standing
in the court below. “Oh!” replied the bride, “I brought her with me to
keep me company on the journey; give the girl something to do, that she
may not be idle.” But the old King had no work for her, and couldn’t
think of anything; so he said, “I’ve a small boy who looks after the
geese, she’d better help him.” The youth’s name was Curdken, and the
real bride was made to assist him in herding geese.
Soon after this the false bride said to the Prince: “Dearest husband,
I pray you grant me a favor.” He answered: “That I will.” “Then let the
slaughterer cut off the head of the horse I rode here upon, because it
behaved very badly on the journey.” But the truth was she was afraid
lest the horse should speak and tell how she had treated the Princess.
She carried her point, and the faithful Falada was doomed to die.
When the news came to the ears of the real Princess she went to the
slaughterer, and secretly promised him a piece of gold if he would do
something for her. There was in the town a large dark gate, through
which she had to pass night and morning with the geese; would he “kindly
hang up Falada’s head there, that she might see it once again?” The
slaughterer said he would do as she desired, chopped off the head, and
nailed it firmly over the gateway.
Early next morning, as she and Curdken were driving their flock through
the gate, she said as she passed under:
“Oh! Falada, ‘tis you hang there”;
and the head replied:
“‘Tis you; pass under, Princess fair:
If your mother only knew,
Her heart would surely break in two.”
Then she left the tower and drove the geese into a field. And when they
had reached the common where the geese fed she sat down and unloosed
her hair, which was of pure gold. Curdken loved to see it glitter in the