The Blue Fairy Book
father, he gazed again full of grief on the stone statue, and sighing,
wailed: “Oh, if I could only restore you to life, my most trusty John!”
Suddenly the stone began to speak, and said: “Yes, you can restore me
to life again if you are prepared to sacrifice what you hold most dear.”
And the King cried out: “All I have in the world will I give up for your
sake.” The stone continued: “If you cut off with your own hand the heads
of your two children, and smear me with their blood, I shall come back
to life.” The King was aghast when he heard that he had himself to put
his children to death; but when he thought of Trusty John’s fidelity,
and how he had even died for him, he drew his sword, and with his own
hand cut the heads off his children. And when he had smeared the stone
with their blood, life came back, and Trusty John stood once more safe
and sound before him. He spake to the King: “Your loyalty shall be
rewarded,” and taking up the heads of the children, he placed them on
their bodies, smeared the wounds with their blood, and in a minute they
were all right again and jumping about as if nothing had happened.
Then the King was full of joy, and when he saw the Queen coming, he hid
Trusty John and the two children in a big cupboard. As she entered he
said to her: “Did you pray in church?” “Yes,” she answered, “but my
thoughts dwelt constantly on Trusty John, and of what he has suffered
for us.” Then he spake: “Dear wife, we can restore him to life, but the
price asked is our two little sons; we must sacrifice them.” The Queen
grew white and her heart sank, but she replied: “We owe it to him on
account of his great fidelity.” Then he rejoiced that she was of the
same mind as he had been, and going forward he opened the cupboard, and
fetched the two children and Trusty John out, saying: “God be praised!
Trusty John is free once more, and we have our two small sons again.”
Then he related to her all that had passed, and they lived together
happily ever afterward.(1)
(1) Grimm.
THE BRAVE LITTLE TAILOR
One summer’s day a little tailor sat on his table by the window in
the best of spirits, and sewed for dear life. As he was sitting thus a
peasant woman came down the street, calling out: “Good jam to sell,
good jam to sell.” This sounded sweetly in the tailor’s ears; he put
his frail little head out of the window, and shouted: “up here, my good
woman, and you’ll find a willing customer.” The woman climbed up the
three flights of stairs with her heavy basket to the tailor’s room, and
he made her spread out all the pots in a row before him. He examined
them all, lifted them up and smelled them, and said at last: “This jam
seems good, weigh me four ounces of it, my good woman; and even if it’s
a quarter of a pound I won’t stick at it.” The woman, who had hoped to
find a good market, gave him what he wanted, but went away grumbling
wrathfully. “Now heaven shall bless this jam for my use,” cried the
little tailor, “and it shall sustain and strengthen me.” He fetched some
bread out of a cupboard, cut a round off the loaf, and spread the jam on
it. “That won’t taste amiss,” he said; “but I’ll finish that waistcoat
first before I take a bite.” He placed the bread beside him, went
on sewing, and out of the lightness of his heart kept on making his
stitches bigger and bigger. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam
rose to the ceiling, where heaps of flies were sitting, and attracted
them to such an extent that they swarmed on to it in masses. “Ha! who
invited you?” said the tailor, and chased the unwelcome guests away. But
the flies, who didn’t understand English, refused to let themselves
be warned off, and returned again in even greater numbers. At last the
little tailor, losing all patience, reached out of his chimney corner
for a duster, and exclaiming: “Wait, and I’ll give it to you,” he beat
them mercilessly with it. When he left off he counted the slain, and
no fewer than seven lay dead before him with outstretched legs. “What a
desperate fellow I am!” said he, and was filled with admiration at his
own courage. “The whole town must know about this”; and in great haste
the little tailor cut out a girdle, hemmed it, and embroidered on it in
big letters, “Seven at a blow.” “What did I say, the town? no, the whole
world shall hear of it,” he said; and his heart beat for joy as a lamb
wags his tail.
The tailor strapped the girdle round his waist and set out into the wide
world, for he considered his workroom too small a field for his prowess.
Before he set forth he looked round about him, to see if there was
anything in the house he could take with him on his journey; but he
found nothing except an old cheese, which he took possession of. In
front of the house he observed a bird that had been caught in some
bushes, and this he put into his wallet beside the cheese. Then he went
on his way merrily, and being light and agile he never felt tired. His
way led up a hill, on the top of which sat a powerful giant, who was
calmly surveying the landscape. The little tailor went up to him, and
greeting him cheerfully said: “Good-day, friend; there you sit at your
ease viewing the whole wide world. I’m just on my way there. What do you
say to accompanying me?” The giant looked contemptuously at the tailor,
and said: “What a poor wretched little creature you are!” “That’s a good
joke,” answered the little tailor, and unbuttoning his coat he showed
the giant the girdle. “There now, you can read what sort of a fellow
I am.” The giant read: “Seven at a blow”; and thinking they were human
beings the tailor had slain, he conceived a certain respect for the
little man. But first he thought he’d test him, so taking up a stone in
his hand, he squeezed it till some drops of water ran out. “Now you do
the same,” said the giant, “if you really wish to be thought strong.”
“Is that all?” said the little tailor; “that’s child’s play to me,” so
he dived into his wallet, brought out the cheese, and pressed it till
the whey ran out. “My squeeze was in sooth better than yours,” said he.
The giant didn’t know what to say, for he couldn’t have believed it
of the little fellow. To prove him again, the giant lifted a stone and
threw it so high that the eye could hardly follow it. “Now, my little
pigmy, let me see you do that.” “Well thrown,” said the tailor; “but,
after all, your stone fell to the ground; I’ll throw one that won’t come
down at all.” He dived into his wallet again, and grasping the bird in
his hand, he threw it up into the air. The bird, enchanted to be free,
soared up into the sky, and flew away never to return. “Well, what do
you think of that little piece of business, friend?” asked the tailor.
“You can certainly throw,” said the giant; “but now let’s see if you can
carry a proper weight.” With these words he led the tailor to a huge oak
tree which had been felled to the ground, and said: “If you are strong
enough, help me to carry the tree out of the wood.” “Most certainly,”
said the little tailor: “just you take the trunk on your shoulder; I’ll
bear the top and branches, which is certainly the heaviest part.” The
giant laid the trunk on his shoulder, but the tailor sat at his ease
among the branches; and the giant, who couldn’t see what was going on
behind him, had to carry the whole tree, and the little tailor into the
bargain. There he sat behind in the best of spirits, lustily whistling a
tune, as if carrying the tree were mere sport. The giant, after dragging
the heavy weight for some time, could get on no further, and shouted
out: “Hi! I must let the tree fall.” The tailor sprang nimbly down,
seized the tree with both hands as if he had carried it the whole way
and said to the giant: “Fancy a big lout like you not being able to
carry a tree!”
They continued to go on their way together, and as they passed by a
cherry tree the giant grasped the top of it, where the ripest fruit
hung, gave the branches into the tailor’s hand, and bade him eat. But
the little tailor was far too weak to hold the tree down, and when the
giant let go the tree swung back into the air, bearing the little tailor
with it. When he had fallen to the ground again without hurting himself,
the giant said: “What! do you mean to tell me you haven’t the strength
to hold down a feeble twig?” “It wasn’t strength that was wanting,”
replied the tailor; “do you think that would have been anything for a
man who has killed seven at a blow? I jumped over the tree because the
huntsmen are shooting among the branches near us. Do you do the like if
you dare.” The giant made an attempt, but couldn’t get over the tree,
and stuck fast in the branches, so that here too the little tailor had
the better of him.
“Well, you’re a fine fellow, after all,” said the giant; “come and spend
the night with us in our cave.” The little tailor willingly consented to
do this, and following his friend they went on till they reached a cave
where several other giants were sitting round a fire, each holding
a roast sheep in his hand, of which he was eating. The little tailor
looked about him, and thought: “Yes, there’s certainly more room to turn
round in here than in my workshop.” The giant showed him a bed and bade
him lie down and have a good sleep. But the bed was too big for the
little tailor, so he didn’t get into it, but crept away into the corner.
At midnight, when the giant thought the little tailor was fast asleep,
he rose up, and taking his big iron walking-stick, he broke the bed
in two with a blow, and thought he had made an end of the little
grasshopper. At early dawn the giants went off to the wood, and quite
forgot about the little tailor, till all of a sudden they met him
trudging along in the most cheerful manner. The giants were terrified at
the apparition, and, fearful lest he should slay them, they all took to
their heels as fast as they could.
The little tailor continued to follow his nose, and after he had
wandered about for a long time he came to the courtyard of a royal
palace, and feeling tired he lay down on the grass and fell asleep.
While he lay there the people came, and looking him all over read on his
girdle: “Seven at a blow.” “Oh!” they said, “what can this great hero of
a hundred fights want in our peaceful land? He must indeed be a mighty
man of valor.” They went and told the King about him, and said what a
weighty and useful man he’d be in time of war, and that it would be well
to secure him at any price. This counsel pleased the King, and he sent
one of his courtiers down to the little tailor, to offer him, when he
awoke, a commission in their army. The messenger remained standing by
the sleeper, and waited till he stretched his limbs and opened his eyes,
when he tendered his proposal. “That’s the very thing I came here for,”
he answered; “I am quite ready to enter the King’s service.” So he was
received with all honor, and given a special house of his own to live
in.
But the other officers resented the success of the little tailor, and
wished him a thousand miles away. “What’s to come of it all?” they asked
each other; “if we quarrel with him, he’ll let out at us, and at every
blow seven will fall. There’ll soon be an end of us.” So they resolved
to go in a body to the King, and all to send in their papers. “We are
not made,” they said, “to hold out against a man who kills seven at a
blow.” The King was grieved at the thought of losing all his faithful
servants for the sake of one man, and he wished heartily that he had
never set eyes on him, or that he could get rid of him. But he didn’t
dare to send him away, for he feared he might kill him along with his
people, and place himself on the throne. He pondered long and deeply
over the matter, and finally came to a conclusion. He sent to the tailor