THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE WOOD
A poor woodcutter lived with his wife and three daughters in a little hut on the edge of a lonely wood. One morning as he was about to go to his work, he said to his wife, “Let my dinner be brought into the wood to me by my eldest daughter, or I shall never get my work done. And in order that she may not miss her way,” he added, “I will take a bag of millet with me and strew the seeds on the path.”
When, therefore, the sun was just above the centre of the wood, the girl set out on her way with a bowl of soup. But the field-sparrows, and wood-sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up the millet long before, and the girl could not find the track. Then trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and night began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and she began to be afraid.
Then in the distance she perceived a light which glimmered between the trees. “There ought to be some people living there, who can take me in for the night,” thought she, and went up to the light. It was not long before she came to a house the windows of which were all lighted up.
She knocked, and a rough voice from the inside cried, “Come in.”
The girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of the room. “Just come in,” cried the voice.
And when she opened the door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting his face with both hands, and his white beard fell down over the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow.
The girl told her story to the Old Man, and begged for shelter for the night. The man said:
“Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?”
“Duks,” answered the animals, and that must have meant, “We are willing,” for the Old Man said, “Here you shall have shelter and food. Go to the fire, and cook us our supper.”
The girl found in the kitchen abundance of everything and cooked a good supper, but had no thought of the animals. She carried the full dishes to the table, seated herself by the gray-haired man, ate and satisfied her hunger.
When she had had enough, she said, “But now I am tired. Where is there a bed in which I can lie down, and sleep?” The animals replied:
“Thou hast eaten with him,
Thou hast drunk with him,
Thou hast had no thought for us,
So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”
Then said the Old Man, “Just go up-stairs, and you will find a room with two beds. Shake them up, and put white linen on them, and then I, too, will come and lie down to sleep.”
The girl went up, and when she had shaken the beds and put clean sheets on, she lay down in one of them without waiting any longer for the Old Man.
After some time, however, the gray-haired man came, took his candle, looked at the girl and shook his head. When he saw that she had fallen into a sound sleep, he opened a trap-door, and let her down into the cellar.
Late at night, the woodcutter came home, and reproached his wife for leaving him to hunger all day. “It is not my fault,” she replied, “the girl went out with your dinner, and must have lost herself, but she is sure to come back to-morrow.”
The woodcutter, however, arose before dawn to go into the wood, and requested that the second daughter should take him his dinner that day. “I will take a bag with lentils,” said he; “the seeds are larger than millet. The girl will see them better, and can’t lose her way.”
At dinner-time, therefore, the girl took out the food, but the lentils had disappeared. The birds of the wood had picked them up as they had done the day before, and had left none.
The girl wandered about in the wood until night, and then she too reached the house of the Old Man, was told to go in, and begged for food and a bed. The man with the white beard again asked the animals:
“Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?”
The animals again replied “Duks.” And everything happened just as it had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank with the Old Man, and did not concern herself about the animals, and when she inquired about her bed, they answered:
“Thou hast eaten with him,
Thou hast drunk with him,
Thou hast had, no thought for us,
So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”
When she was asleep the Old Man came, looked at her, shook his head, and let her down into the cellar.
On the third morning, the woodcutter said to his wife, “Send our youngest child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good and obedient, and will stay in the right path, and not run about after every wild bumblebee, as her sisters did.”
The mother did not want to do it, and said, “Am I to lose my dearest child, as well?”
“Have no fear,” he replied, “the girl will not go astray; she is too prudent and sensible. Besides, I will take some peas with me, and strew them about. They are still larger than lentils, and will show her the way.”
But when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the wood-pigeons had already got all the peas in their crops, and she did not know which way to turn. She was full of sorrow and never ceased to think how hungry her father would be, and how her good mother would grieve, if she did not return home.
At length, when it grew dark, she saw the light and came to the house in the wood. She begged quite prettily to be allowed to spend the night there. And the man with the white beard once more asked his animals:
“Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?”
“Duks,” said they. Then the girl went to the stove where the animals were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked their smooth feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled cow between her horns.
And when, in obedience to the Old Man’s orders, she had made ready some good soup, and the bowl was placed upon the table, she said, “Am I to eat as much as I want, and the good animals to have nothing? Outside is food in plenty, I will look after them first.”
So she went and brought some barley and strewed it for the cock and hen, and a whole armful of sweet-smelling hay for the cow. “I hope you will like it, dear Animals,” said she, “and you shall have a refreshing draught in case you are thirsty.”
Then she fetched in a bucketful of water, and the cock and hen jumped on to the edge of it and dipped their beaks in. Then held up their heads as the birds do when they drink, and the brindled cow also took a hearty draught.
When the animals were fed, the girl seated herself at the table by the Old Man, and ate what he had left. It was not long before the cock and the hen began to thrust their heads beneath their wings, and the eyes of the cow likewise began to blink. Then said the girl, “Ought we not to go to bed?”
“Pretty little Hen,
Pretty little Cock,
And pretty brindled Cow,
What say ye all now?”
The animals answered “Duks.”
“Thou hast eaten with us,
Thou hast drunk with us,
Thou hast had kind thought for all of us,
We wish thee good-night.”
Then the girl went up-stairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid clean sheets on them. And when she had done it the Old Man came and lay down on one of the beds, and his white beard reached down to his feet. The girl lay down on the other, said her prayers, and fell asleep.
She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise in the house that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and splitting in every corner. The doors sprang open, and beat against the walls. The beams groaned as if they were being torn out of their joints. It seemed as if the staircase were falling down. And at length there was a crash as if the entire roof had fallen in.
As, however, all grew quiet once more, and the girl was not hurt, she stayed quietly lying where she was, and fell asleep again. But when she woke up in the morning with the brilliancy of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold?
She was lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal splendor. On the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of green silk. The bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet, and on a chair close by, was a pair of shoes embroidered with pearls.
The girl believed that she was in a dream, but three richly clad attendants came in, and asked what orders she would like to give?
“If you will go,” she replied, “I will get up at once and make ready some soup for the Old Man, and then I will feed the pretty little hen, and the cock, and the beautiful brindled cow.”
She thought the Old Man was up already, and looked round at his bed. He, however, was not lying in it, but a stranger.
And while she was looking at him, and becoming aware that he was young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, “I am a King’s Son, and was enchanted by a wicked Witch, and made to live in this wood, as an old gray-haired man. No one was allowed to be with me but my three attendants in the form of a cock, a hen, and a brindled cow. The spell was not to be broken until a girl came to us, whose heart was so good that she showed herself full of love, not only toward mankind, but toward animals – and that you have done, and by you, at midnight, we were set free, and the old house in the wood was changed back again into my royal palace.”
And when they had arisen, the King’s Son ordered the three attendants to set out and fetch the father and mother of the girl to the marriage feast.
“But where are my two sisters?” inquired the girl.
“I have locked them in the cellar, and to-morrow they shall be led into the wood, and shall live as servants to a charcoal-burner, until they have grown kinder, and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.”
MAID MALEEN
There was once a King who had a son who asked in marriage the daughter of a mighty King. She was called Maid Maleen, and was very beautiful. As her father wished to give her to another, the Prince was rejected.
But since they both loved each other with all their hearts, they would not give each other up, and Maid Maleen said to her father, “I can and will take no other for my husband.”
Then the King flew into a passion, and ordered a dark tower to be built, into which no ray of sunlight or moonlight should enter. When it was finished, he said, “Therein shall you be imprisoned for seven years, and then I will come and see if your perverse spirit is broken.”
Meat and drink for the seven years were carried into the tower; and then she and her waiting-woman were led into it and walled up, and thus cut off from the sky and from the earth. There they sat in the darkness, and knew not when day or night began. The King’s Son often went round and round the tower, and called their names, but no sound from without pierced through the thick walls. What else could they do but lament and complain?
Meanwhile, the time passed, and by the small amount of food and drink left they knew that the seven years were coming to an end. They thought the moment of their deliverance was come. But no stroke of the hammer was heard, no stone fell out of the wall, and it seemed to Maid Maleen that her father had forgotten her. As they had food for only a short time longer, and saw a miserable death awaiting them, Maid Maleen said, “We must try our last chance, and see if we can break through the wall.”
She took the bread-knife, and picked and bored at the mortar of a stone, and when she was tired, the waiting-maid took her turn. With great labor they succeeded in getting out one stone, then a second, and third. And when three days were over, the first ray of light fell on their darkness, and at last the opening was so large that they could look out.
The sky was blue, and a fresh breeze played on their faces; but how melancholy everything looked all around! Her father’s castle lay in ruins, the town and the villages were, so far as could be seen, destroyed by fire, the fields far and wide laid to waste, and no human being was visible.
When the opening in the wall was large enough for them to slip through, the waiting-maid sprang down first, and then Maid Maleen followed. But where were they to go? The enemy had ravaged the whole kingdom, driven away the King, and slain all the inhabitants. They wandered forth to seek another country, but nowhere did they find a shelter, or a human being to give them a mouthful of bread. Their need was so great that they were forced to appease their hunger with nettle-plants.
When, after long journeying, they came into another country, they tried to get work everywhere. But wherever they knocked they were turned away, and no one would have pity on them.
At last they arrived in a large city and went to the royal palace. There also they were ordered to go away, but at last the cook said that they might stay in the kitchen and be scullions.
The King’s Son in whose kingdom they were, was, however, the very man who had been betrothed to Maid Maleen. His father had chosen another Bride for him, whose face was as ugly as her heart was wicked. The wedding was fixed, and the girl had already arrived. Because of her great ugliness, however, she shut herself in her room, and allowed no one to see her, and Maid Maleen had to take her her meals from the kitchen.
When the day came for the Bride and the Bridegroom to go to church, she was ashamed of her ugliness, and afraid that if she showed herself in the streets, she would be mocked and laughed at by the people. Then said she to Maid Maleen, “A great piece of luck has befallen you. I have sprained my foot, and cannot walk through the streets. You shall put on my wedding-clothes and take my place. A greater honor than that you cannot have!”
Maid Maleen, however, refused it, and said, “I wish for no honor which is not suitable for me.”
It was in vain, too, that the Bride offered her gold. At last she said angrily, “If you do not obey me, it shall cost you your life. I have but to speak the word, and your head will lie at your feet.”
Then she was forced to obey, and put on the Bride’s magnificent clothes and all her jewels. When she entered the royal hall, every one was amazed at her great beauty, and the King said to his son, “This is the Bride whom I have chosen for you, and whom you must lead to church.”
The Bridegroom was astonished, and thought, “She is like my Maid Maleen, and I should believe that it was she herself, but she has long been shut up in the tower or dead.”
He took her by the hand and led her to church. On the way was a nettle-plant, and she said:
“Nettle-plant, Nettle-plant,
Nettle-plant so small!
What are you doing here,
Alone by the wall?
I have the time known,
When unroasted, unboiled,
I ate thee alone!”
“What are you saying?” asked the King’s Son.
“Nothing,” she replied, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
He was surprised that she knew about her, but kept silence. When they came to the foot-plank into the churchyard, she said:
“Foot-bridge, break not,
I am not the true Bride.”
“What are you saying there?” asked the King’s Son.
“Nothing,” she replied, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
When they came to the church-door, she said once more:
“Church-door, break not,
I am not the true Bride.”
“What are you saying there?” asked he.
“Ah,” she answered, “I was only thinking of Maid Maleen.”
Then he took out a precious chain, put it round her neck, and fastened the clasp. Thereupon they entered the church, and the priest joined their hands together before the altar, and married them. He led her home but she did not speak a single word the whole way.
When they got back to the royal palace, she hurried into the Bride’s chamber, put off the magnificent clothes and the jewels, dressed herself in her gray gown, and kept nothing but the jewel on her neck, which she had received from the Bridegroom.
When the night came, and the Bride was to be led into the apartment of the King’s Son, she let her veil fall over her face, that he might not observe the deception.
As soon as every one had gone away, he said to her, “What did you say to the nettle-plant which was growing by the wayside?”
“To which nettle-plant?” asked she; “I don’t talk to nettle-plants.”
“If you did not do it, then you are not the true Bride,” said he.
So she bethought herself, and said:
“I must go my maid to see,
Who keeps my secret thoughts for me.”
She went out and sought Maid Maleen. “Girl, what have you been saying to the nettle?”
“I said nothing but:
“Nettle-plant, Nettle-plant,
Nettle-plant so small!
What are you doing here,
Alone by the wall?
I have the time known,
When unroasted, unboiled,
I ate thee alone!”
The Bride ran back into the chamber, and said, “I know now what I said to the nettle,” and she repeated the words which she had just heard.
“But what did you say to the foot-bridge when we went over it?” asked the King’s Son.
“To the foot-bridge?” she answered. “I don’t talk to foot-bridges.”
“Then you are not the true Bride.”
She again said:
“I must go my maid to see,
Who keeps my secret thoughts for me,”
and ran out and found Maid Maleen. “Girl, what did you say to the foot-bridge?”
“I said nothing but:
“Foot-bridge, break not,
I am not the true Bride.”
“That costs you your life!” cried the Bride, but she hurried into the room, and said, “I know now what I said to the foot-bridge,” and she repeated the words.
“But what did you say to the church-door?”
“To the church-door?” she replied; “I don’t talk to church-doors.”
“Then you are not the true Bride.”
She went out and found Maid Maleen, and said, “Girl, what did you say to the church-door?”
“I said nothing but:
“Church-door, break not,
I am not the true Bride.”
“That will break your neck for you!” cried the Bride, and flew into a terrible passion, but she hastened back into the room, and said, “I know now what I said to the church-door,” and she repeated the words.
“But where have you the jewel which I gave you at the church-door?”
“What jewel?” she answered; “you did not give me any jewel.”
“I myself put it round your neck, and I myself fastened it. If you do not know that, you are not the true Bride.”
He drew the veil from her face, and when he saw her ugliness, he sprang back terrified, and said, “How come you here? Who are you?”
“I am your betrothed Bride, but because I feared lest the people should mock me when they saw me out of doors, I commanded the scullery-maid to dress herself in my clothes, and to go to church instead of me.”
“Where is the girl?” said he; “I want to see her, go and bring her here.”
She went out and told the servants that the scullery-maid was an impostor, and that they must take her out into the courtyard and strike off her head.
The servants laid hold of Maid Maleen and wanted to drag her out, but she screamed so loudly for help, that the King’s Son heard her voice, hurried out of his chamber and ordered them to set the maiden free.
Lights were brought, and then he saw on her neck the gold chain which he had given her at the church-door.
“You are the true Bride,” said he, “who went with me to church. Come with me now to my room.”
When they were both alone, he said, “On the way to the church you did name Maid Maleen, who was my betrothed Bride. If I could believe it possible, I should think she was standing before me – you are like her in every respect.”
She answered, “I am Maid Maleen, who for your sake was imprisoned seven years in the darkness, who suffered hunger and thirst, and has lived so long in want and poverty. To-day, however, the sun is shining on me once more. I was married to you in the church, and I am your lawful wife.”
Then they kissed each other, and were happy all the days of their lives.
The false Bride was rewarded for what she had done by having her head cut off.
The tower in which Maid Maleen had been imprisoned remained standing for a long time, and when the children passed by it, they sang:
“Kling, klang, gloria.
Who sits within this tower?
A King’s Daughter, she sits within,
A sight of her I cannot win,
The wall it will not break,
The stone cannot be pierced.
Little Hans, with your coat so gay,
Follow me, follow me, fast as you may.”