The Nix of The Mill-Pond

The Nix combed her long black hair. In old
German  folklore a 'nixie' is a water fairy or
mermaid. These are 'shape-shifters' and appear
 in a variety of forms. They can be malevolent
 or good.

      There was once upon a time, a miller who lived with his wife in great contentment. They had money and land, and their prosperity increased year by year more and more. But ill-luck comes like a thief in the night, as their wealth had increased so did it again decrease, year by year. 

       At last the miller could hardly call the mill in which he lived his own. He was in great distress, and when he lay down after his day's work, found no rest, but full of care, tossed about in his bed.

       One morning, he rose before daybreak and went out into the open air, thinking that perhaps there his heart might become lighter. As he was stepping over the mill-dam, the first sunbeam was just breaking forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond. He turned round and perceived a beautiful woman, rising slowly out of the water. Her long hair, which she was holding off her shoulders with her soft hands, fell down on both sides, and covered her white body. 

       He saw that she was the Nix of the Mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether he should run away or stay where he was.

       But the Nix made her sweet voice heard, called him by his name, and asked him why he was so sad? The miller was at first struck dumb, but when he heard her speak so kindly, he took heart, and told her how he had formerly lived in wealth and happiness, but that now he was so poor that he did not know what to do.

       "Be easy," answered the Nix, " I will make you richer and happier than you have ever been before, only you must promise to give me the young thing which has just been born in your house." 

       "What else can that be," thought the miller, "but a young puppy or kitten?" and he promised her what she desired. 

       The Nix descended into the water again, and he hurried back to his mill, consoled and in good spirits. He had not yet reached it, when the maid-servant came out of the house, and cried to him to rejoice, for his wife had a little boy. The miller stood as if struck by lightning. He saw very well that the cunning Nix had been aware of it, and had cheated him. 

       Hanging his head, he went up to his wife's bedside and when she said, " Why do you not rejoice over the fine boy? " he told her what had befallen him, and what kind of a promise he had given to the Nix. " Of what use to me are riches and prosperity?" he added, " if I am to lose my child; but what can I do?" 

        Even the relations, who had come thither to wish them joy, did not know what to say. In the meantime prosperity again returned to the miller's house. All that he undertook succeeded; it was as if presses and coffers filled themselves of their own accord, and as if money multiplied nightly in the cupboards. It was not long before his wealth was greater than it had ever been before. But he could not rejoice over it untroubled, the bargain which he had made with the Nix tormented his soul. 

       Whenever he passed the mill-pond, he feared she might ascend and remind him of his debt. He never let the boy himself go near the water. "Beware," he said to him, " if you do but touch the water, a hand will rise, seize you, and draw you down."

      But as year after year went by, and the Nix did not show herself again, the miller began to feel at ease. The boy grew up to be a youth and was apprenticed to a huntsman. When he had learnt everything, and had become an excellent huntsman, the lord of the village took him into his service. In the village lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who pleased the huntsman. When his master perceived that, he gave him a little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and happily, and loved each other with all their hearts. 

       One day, the huntsman was chasing a roe. And when the animal turned aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued it and at last shot it. He did not notice that he was now in the neighborhood of the dangerous mill-pond, and went, after he had disembowelled the stag, to the water, in order to wash his blood-stained hands. 

       Scarcely, however, had he dipped them in than the Nix ascended, smilingly wound her dripping arms around him, and drew him quickly down under the waves, which closed over him.

        When it was evening, and the huntsman did not return home, his wife grew alarmed. She went out to seek him, and as he had often told her that he had to be on his guard against the snares of the Nix, and dared not venture into the neighborhood of the mill-pond, she already suspected what had happened. She hastened to the water, and when she found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she could no longer have any doubt of the misfortune. 

       Lamenting her sorrow, and wringing her hands, she called on her beloved by name, but in vain. She hurried across to the other side of the pond, and called him anew. She reviled the Nix with harsh words, but no answer followed. The surface of the water remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at her. The poor woman did not leave the pond. With hasty steps, she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, sometimes in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes softly sobbing. At last her strength came to an end, she sank down to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep.

       Presently a dream took possession of her. She was anxiously climbing upward between great masses of rock. Thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her face, and the wind tossed her long hair about. When she had reached the summit, quite a different sight presented itself to her. The sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped gently downward, and on a green meadow, filled with flowers of every color, stood a pretty cottage. She went up to it and opened the door. There sat an Old Woman with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly. 

       At that very moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned, and she at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream. She laboriously climbed the mountain. Everything was exactly as she had seen it in the night. The Old Woman received her kindly, and pointed out a chair on which she might sit. ' You must have met with a misfortune," she said, " since you have sought out my lonely cottage." 

        With tears, the woman related what had befallen her. "Be comforted," said the Old Woman, " I will help you. Here is a Golden Comb for you. Tarry till the full moon has risen, then go to the mill-pond, seat yourself on the shore, and comb your long black hair with this comb. When you have done, lay it down on the bank, and you will see what will happen."

        The woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, passed slowly. At last the shining disc appeared in the heavens, then she went out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black hair with the Golden Comb. When she had finished, she laid it down at the water's edge. 

       It was not long before there was a movement in the depths, a wave rose, rolled to the shore, and bore the comb away with it. 

       In not more than the time necessary for the comb to sink to the bottom, the surface of the water parted, and the head of the huntsman arose. He did not speak, but looked at his wife With sorrowful glances. At the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered the man's head. All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as before, and nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it.

        Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed her the cottage of the Old Woman. Next morning, she again set out and complained of her woes to the Wise Woman.

 The Old Woman gave her a Golden Flute, and said, "Tarry till the full moon comes again, then take this flute. Play a beautiful air on it, and when you have finished, lay it on the sand. Then you will see what will happen." 

       The wife did as the old woman told her. No sooner was the flute lying on the sand, than there was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed up and bore the flute away with it. Immediately afterward the water parted, and not only the head of the man, but half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms longingly toward her. But a second wave came up, covered him, and drew him down again. 

       "Alas, what does it profit me? " said the unhappy woman, "that I should see my beloved, only to lose him again!"

       Despair filled her heart anew, but the dream led her a third time to the house of the Old Woman. She set out, and the Wise Woman gave her a Golden Spinning-Wheel, consoled her and said, "All is not yet fulfilled, tarry until the time of the full moon. Then take the spinning-wheel, seat yourself on the shore, and spin the spool full. When you have done that, place the spinning-wheel near the water, and you will see what will happen." 

        The woman obeyed all she said exactly. As soon as the full moon showed itself, she carried the Golden Spinning-Wheel to the shore, and span industriously until the flax came to an end, and the spool was quite filled with the threads. No sooner was the wheel standing on the shore than there was a more violent movement than before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty wave rushed up, and bore the wheel away with it. 

        Immediately the head and the whole body of the man rose into the air, in a water-spout. He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by the hand and fled. 

        But they had scarcely gone a very little distance, when the whole pond rose with a frightful roar, and streamed out over the open country. The fugitives already saw death before their eyes, when the woman in her terror implored the help of the Old Woman, and in an instant they were transformed, she into a Toad, he into a Frog. 

       The flood which had overtaken them could not destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried them far away. 

       When the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again, they regained their human form, but neither knew where the other was. They found themselves among strange people, who did not know their native land. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. In order to keep them- selves alive, they were both obliged to tend sheep. 

        For many long years, they drove their flocks through field and forest and were full of sorrow and longing. When spring had once more broken forth on the earth, one day they both went out with their flocks, and as chance would have it, they drew near each other. They met in a valley, but did not recognize each other. Yet they rejoiced that they were no longer so lonely. Henceforth they every day drove their flocks to the same place. They did not speak much, but they felt comforted. 

        One evening when the full moon was shining in the sky, and the sheep were already at rest, the shepherd pulled the flute out of his pocket, and played on it a beautiful but sorrowful air. When he had finished, he saw that the shepherdess was weeping bitterly. 

       "Why are you weeping? " he asked. 

       "Alas," answered she, " thus shone the full moon when I played this air on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved rose out of the water." 

       He looked at her, and it seemed as if a veil fell from his eyes, and he recognized his dear wife. And when she looked at him, and the moon shone in his face she knew him also. They embraced and kissed each other, and no one need ask if they were happy.

• A Nix is a river mermaid, Go here to read a fairy story about an ocean mermaid.
• I include poems about more fairies under the doll crafts index for St. Patrick's day here.
• This story was originally included in an old collection of fairy tales by the Grimm Brothers, even though it has not be reprinted for many years.

One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes

      There was once a woman who had three daughters, the eldest of whom was called One-Eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her forehead, and the second, Two-Eyes, because she had two eyes like other folks, and the youngest, Three-Eyes, because she had three eyes ; and her third eye was in the centre of her forehead.

       Now, as Two-Eyes saw just as other human beings did, her sisters and her mother could not endure her. They said to her, "You, with your two eyes, are no better than common folk. You do not belong to us!" 

       They pushed her about, and threw old clothes to her, and gave her nothing to eat but what they left, and did everything that they could to make her unhappy.

       It came to pass that Two-Eyes had to go out into the fields and tend the goat, but she was still very hungry, because her sisters had given her so little to eat. She sat down on a ridge and began to weep, and so bitterly that two streams ran down from her eyes. 

       And one day, when she looked up in her grief, a woman was  standing beside her, who said, " Why are you weeping, little Two-Eyes?"

       Two-Eyes answered, " Have I not reason to weep, when I have two eyes like other people, and my sisters and mother hate me for it, and push me from one corner to another, throw old clothes at me, and give me nothing to eat but the scraps they leave? Today, they have given me so little that I am still very hungry." 

        Then the Wise Woman said, " Wipe away your tears, Two- Eyes, and I will tell you something to stop your ever suffering from hunger again; just say to your goat:

 " 'Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, bleat, 

 Cover the table with something to eat!'

and then a clean well-spread little table will stand before you, with the most delicious food upon it, of which you may eat as much as you are inclined. And when you have had enough, and have no more need of the little table, just say:

 " 'Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, I pray

, And take the table quite away!' 

and then it will vanish again from your sight." Hereupon the Wise Woman departed. But Two-Eyes thought, " I must instantly make a trial, and see if what she said is true, for I am far too hungry," and she said:

 "Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, bleat,

 Cover the table with something to eat!" 

and scarcely had she spoken the words than a little table, covered with a white cloth, was standing there, and on it was a plate with a knife and fork, and a silver spoon; and the most delicious food was there also, warm and smoking as if it had just come out of the kitchen. 

       Then Two-Eyes said a little prayer she knew, "Lord God, be with us always, Amen," and helped herself to some food, and enjoyed it. And when she was satisfied, she said, as the Wise Woman had taught her:

 "Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, I pray,

 And take the table quite away!"

and immediately the little table and everything on it was gone again. 

       "That is a delightful way of keeping house!" thought Two- Eyes, and was quite glad and happy.

 In the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a small earthenware dish with some food, which her sisters had set ready for her, but she did not touch it. Next day, she again went out with her goat, and left the few bits of broken bread which had been handed to her, lying untouched.

 The first and second time that she did this, her sisters did not notice it, but as it happened every time, they did observe it, and said, "There is something wrong about Two-Eyes, she always leaves her food untasted. She used to eat up everything that was given her. She must have discovered other ways of getting food." 

       In order that they might learn the truth, they resolved to send One-Eye with Two-Eyes, when she went to drive her goat to the pasture, to watch what Two-Eyes did while she was there, and whether any one brought her things to eat and drink. So when Two-Eyes set out the next tune, One-Eye went to her and said, " I will go with you to the pasture, and see that the goat is well taken care of, and driven where there is food." 

       But Two-Eyes knew what was in One-Eye's mind, and drove the goat into high grass and said, "Come, One-Eye, we will sit down, and I will sing something to you."

       One-Eye sat down, and was tired with the unaccustomed walk and the heat of the sun, and Two-Eyes sang constantly:

One-Eye, wakest thou?

One-Eye, steepest thou?"

until One-Eye shut her one eye, and fell asleep. As soon as Two-Eyes saw that One-Eye was fast asleep, and could discover nothing, she said:

 

"Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, bleat, 

Cover the table with something to eat!" 

and seated herself at her table, and ate and drank until she was satisfied. Then she again cried:

 "Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, I pray,

 And take the table quite away!" 

and in an instant all was gone. 

       Two-Eyes now awakened One-Eye, and said, "One-Eye, you want to take care of the goat, and yet go to sleep while you are doing it! In the meantime, the goat might run all over the world. Come, let us go home again." 

       So they went home, and again Two-Eyes let her little dish stand untouched, and One-Eye could not tell her mother why she would not eat it, and to excuse herself said, "I fell asleep when I was out." 

        Next day, the mother said to Three-Eyes, "This time you shall go and watch if Two-Eyes eats anything when she is out, and if any one fetches her food and drink, for she must eat and drink in secret." 

       So Three-Eyes went to Two-Eyes, and said, " I will go with you and see if the goat is taken proper care of, and driven where there is food." 

       But Two-Eyes knew what was in Three-Eyes' mind, and drove the goat into high grass and said, "We will sit down, and I will sing something to you, Three-Eyes." Three-Eyes sat down and was tired with the walk and with the heat of the sun, and Two-Eyes began the same song as before, and sang:

 "Three-Eyes, are you waking?" 

but then, instead of singing, 

 "Three-Eyes, are you sleeping!" 

as she ought to have done, she thoughtlessly sang:

 "Two-Eyes, are you sleeping?"

 and sang all the time,

 "Three-Eyes, are you waking? 

Two-Eyes, are you sleeping?" 

       Then two of the eyes which Three-Eyes had, shut and fell asleep, but the third, as it had not been named in the song, did not sleep. It is true that Three-Eyes shut it, but only in her cunning, to pretend it was asleep too. But it blinked, and could see everything very well. And when Two-Eyes thought that Three-Eyes was fast asleep, she used her little charm:

 "Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, bleat, 
 Cover the table with something to eat!" 

 and ate and drank as much as her heart desired, and then ordered the table to go away again:

"Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, I pray, 

And take the table quite away!" 

and Three-Eyes had seen everything. 

       Then Two-Eyes came to her, waked her and said, "Have you been asleep, Three-Eyes? You are a good caretaker! Come, we will go home."

        And when they got home, Two-Eyes again did not eat, and Three-Eyes said to the mother, " Now, I know why that proud thing there does not eat. When she is out, she says to the goat:

 " 'Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, bleat, 

 Cover the table with something to eat!' 

and then a little table appears before her covered with the best of food, much better than any we have here. When she has eaten all she wants, she says:

 " 'Bleat, bleat, my little Goat, I pray, 

 And take the table quite away!' 

and all disappears. I watched everything closely. She put two of my eyes to sleep by using a charm, but luckily the one in my forehead kept awake." 

       Then the envious mother cried, " Do you want to fare better than we do? The desire shall pass away! " and she fetched a butcher's knife, and thrust it into the heart of the goat, which fell down dead.

 When Two-Eyes saw that, full of sorrow, she went outside, and seated herself on the ridge of grass at the edge of the field, and wept bitter tears. Suddenly the Wise Woman once more stood by her side, and said, " Two-Eyes, why are you weeping? " 

       "Have I not reason to weep? " she answered. " The goat, which covered the table for me every day when I spoke your charm, has been killed by my mother, and now I shall again have to bear hunger and want." 

       The Wise Woman said, " Two-Eyes, I will give you a piece of good advice. Ask your sisters to give you the entrails of the slaughtered goat, and bury them in the ground in front of the house, and your fortune will be made." 

       Then she vanished, and Two-Eyes went home and said to her sisters, " Dear Sisters, do give me some part of my goat. I don't wish for what is good, but give me the entrails." Then they laughed and said, " If that's all you want, you may have it." 

       So Two-Eyes took the entrails and buried them quietly, at evening, in front of the house-door, as the Wise Woman had counseled her to do. 

       Next morning, when they all awoke, and went to the house door, there stood a wonderful, magnificent tree with leaves of silver, and fruit of gold hanging among them, so that in all the wide world there was nothing more beautiful or precious. They did not know how the tree could have come there during the night, but Two-Eyes saw that it had grown up out of the entrails of the goat, for it was standing on the exact spot where she had buried them. 

       Then the mother said to One-Eye, " Climb up, my Child, and gather some of the fruit of the tree for us." One-Eye climbed up, but when she was about to lay hold of one of the golden apples, the branch escaped from her hands. And that happened each time, so that she could not pluck a single apple, let her do what she might. 

       Then said the mother, " Three-Eyes, do you climb up. You with your three eyes can look about you better than One-Eye." 

       One-Eye slipped down, and Three-Eyes climbed up. Three-Eyes was not more skillful, and might search as she liked, but the golden apples always escaped her. 

       At length, the mother grew impatient, and climbed up herself, but could grasp the fruit no better than One-Eye and Three-Eyes, for she always clutched empty air. 

       Then said Two-Eyes, " I will go up, perhaps I may succeed better." The sisters cried, " You, indeed, with your two eyes! What can you do?" 

       But Two-Eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not get out of her way, but came into her hand of their own accord, so that she could pluck them one after the other. And she brought a whole apron full  down with her. The mother took them away from her, and instead of treating poor Two-Eyes any better for this, she and One-Eye and Three-Eyes were only envious, because Two-Eyes alone had been able to get the fruit. They treated her still more cruelly.

       It so befell that once, when they were all standing together by the tree, a young Knight came up. " Quick, Two-Eyes," cried the two sisters, "creep under this and don't disgrace us!" and with all speed they turned an empty barrel, which was standing close by the tree, over poor Two-Eyes, and they pushed the golden apples which she had been gathering, under it too. 

       When the Knight came nearer he was a handsome lord, who stopped and admired the magnificent gold and silver tree, and said to the two sisters, "To whom does this fine tree belong? Any one who will bestow one branch of it on me may, in return for it, ask whatsoever he desires." 

       Then One-Eye and Three-Eyes replied that the tree belonged to them, and that they would give him a branch. They both tried very hard, but they were not able to do it, for every time the branches and fruit moved away from them. 

       Then said the Knight, "It is very strange that the tree should belong to you, and yet you should still not be able to break a piece off." They again insisted that the tree was their property. Whilst they were saying so, Two-Eyes rolled a couple of golden apples from under the barrel to the feet of the Knight, for she was vexed with One-Eye and Three-Eyes, for not speaking the truth. 

       When the Knight saw the apples he was astonished, and asked from whence they came. One-Eye and Three-Eyes answered that they had another sister, who was not allowed to show herself, for she had only two eyes like any common person. 

      The Knight, however, desired to see her, and cried, "Two Eyes, come hither!" 

       Then Two-Eyes, quite cheered, came from beneath the barrel, and the Knight was surprised at her great beauty, and said, "You, Two-Eyes, can certainly break off a branch from the tree for me." 

        "Yes," replied Two-Eyes, "that I certainly shall be able to do, for the tree belongs to me." And she climbed up, and with the greatest ease broke off a branch with beautiful silver leaves and golden fruit, and gave it to the Knight. 

      Then said the Knight, " Two-Eyes, what shall I give you for it?" 

       "Alas!" answered Two-Eyes, " I suffer from hunger and thirst, grief and want, from early morning till late night. If you would take me with you, and deliver me from these things, I should be happy."

       So the Knight lifted Two-Eyes on his horse, and took her home with him to his father's castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes and meat and drink to her heart's content. And as he loved her so much he married her, and the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing. When Two-Eyes was thus carried away by the handsome Knight, her two sisters grudged her good fortune in downright earnest. 

       "The wonderful tree, however, remains with us," thought they, " and even if we can gather no fruit from it, every one will stand still and look at it, and come to us and admire it. Who knows what good things may be in store for us?" 

       But next morning, the tree had vanished, and all their hopes were at an end. And when Two-Eyes looked out of the window of her own little room, to her great delight it was standing in front of it. And so it had followed her. Two-Eyes lived a long time in happiness. One day, two poor women came to her castle, and begged for alms. She looked in their faces, and recognized her sisters, One-Eye, and Three-Eyes, who had fallen into such poverty that they had to wander about and beg their bread from door to door. Two-Eyes made them welcome, and was kind to them, and took care of them, so that they both, with all their hearts, repented of the evil that they had done in their youth to their sister. 

• In old folklore, it is often believed that trees and plants have mysterious powers. This is perhaps a common allusion to the herbal medicine widely practiced by both ancient and modern people today. The Grimm Brothers preserved several fairy tales that include trees with magical powers in their printed volumes: The Hazel Branch, The Rose and The Ear of Corn. 

Little Two-Eyes picking from her apple tree.

Snow White and Rose Red

Snow-White and Rose-Red have generous
hearts for others.

       There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which bore white and the other red roses. She had two children who were like the two rose-trees. One was called Snow-White, and the other Rose- Red. 
       They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children in the world were, only Snow-White was more quiet and gentle than Rose-Red. Rose-Red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies. But Snow-White sat at home with her mother, and helped her with the housework, or read to her when there was nothing to do.
       The two children were so fond of each other, that they al- ways held each other by the hand when they went out together. When Snow-White said, " We will not leave each other," Rose-Red answered, " Never so long as we live." And their mother would add, " What one has, she must share with the other."
       They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries. Beasts never did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still upon the boughs, and sang whatever they knew. 
       No mishap overtook them. If they stayed too late in the forest, and night came on, they laid themselves down near one another upon the moss, and slept until morning. Their mother knew this, and had no worry on their account.
       One day, when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn had roused them, they saw a beautiful Child in a shining white dress sitting near their bed. He got up and looked quite kindly at them, but said nothing and went away into the forest. And when they looked round, they found that they had been sleeping quite close to a precipice, and would certainly have fallen into it in the darkness, if they had gone only a few paces farther. And their mother told them that it must have been the Angel who watches over good children. 
       Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother's little cottage so neat, that it was a pleasure to look inside it. In the summer, Rose-Red took care of the house, and every morning laid a wreath of flowers by her mother's bed before she awoke, in which was a rose from each tree. In the winter, Snow-White lit the fire and hung the kettle on the hook. The kettle was of copper and shone like gold, so brightly was it polished. 
       In the evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother said, " Go, Snow-White, and bolt the door," and then they sat round the hearth, and the mother took her spectacles and read aloud out of a large book. The two girls listened as they sat and span. And close by them lay a lamb upon the floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a white dove with its head hidden beneath its wings. 
       One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together, some one knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in. The mother said, " Quick, Rose-Red, open the door, it must be a traveler who is seeking shelter." 
       Rose-Red went and pushed back the bolt, thinking that it was a poor man, but it was not. It was a Bear that stretched his broad, black head within the door. 
       Rose-Red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered, and Snow-White hid herself behind her mother's bed. 
       But the Bear began to speak and said, " Do not be afraid. I will do you no harm! I am half- frozen, and only want to warm myself a little beside you." " 
       Poor Bear," said the mother, " lie down by the fire. .Only take care that you do not burn your coat." Then she cried, " Snow-White, Rose-Red, come out, the Bear will do you no harm, he means well." 
       So they both came out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came nearer, and were not afraid of him.   
      The Bear said, "Here, Children, knock the snow out of my coat a little;" so they brought the broom and swept the Bear's hide clean. And he stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and comfortably. 
       It was not long before they grew quite at home, and played tricks with their clumsy guest. They tugged at his hair with their hands, put their feet upon his back and rolled him about, or they took a hazel-switch and beat him, and, when he growled, they laughed. But the Bear took it all in good part, only when they were too rough he called out, "Leave me alive, Children:

 "Snowy-white, Rosy-red, 

 Will you beat your lover dead?" 

        When it was bedtime, and the others went to sleep, the mother said to the Bear, " You may lie there by the hearth, and then you will be safe from the cold and the bad weather."

       As soon as day dawned the two children let him out, and he trotted across the snow into the forest. 

       Henceforth the Bear came every evening at the same time, laid himself down by the hearth, and let the children amuse themselves with him as much as they liked. They got so used to him, that the doors were never fastened until their black friend had arrived. 

       When spring was come and all outside was green, the Bear said one morning to Snow-White, " Now I must go away, and cannot come back for the whole summer." 

      ''Where are you going, then, dear Bear? " asked Snow-White. 

       "I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the wicked Dwarfs. In the winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged to stay below and cannot work their way through. But now, when the sun has thawed and warmed the earth, they break through it, and come out to pry and steal. And what once gets into their hands and in their caves, does not easily see daylight again."

       Snow-White was very sorry for his going away. And as she unbolted the door for him, and the Bear was hurrying out, he caught against the bolt and a piece of his hairy coat was torn off. It seemed to Snow- White as if she saw gold shining through it, but she was not sure about it. The Bear ran away quickly, and was soon out of sight behind the trees. 

       A short time afterward, the mother sent her children into the forest to get fire-wood. There they found a big tree which lay felled on the ground, and close by the trunk something was jumping backward and forward in the grass. But they could not make out what it was. 

       When they came nearer they saw a Dwarf with an old withered face and a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of the beard was caught in a crevice of the tree, and the little fellow was jumping backward and forward like a dog tied to a rope, and did not know what to do. 

       He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried, " Why do you stand there? Can you not come here and help me?" 

       "What are you about there, Little Man? " asked Rose-Red. 

       "You stupid, prying goose! " answered the Dwarf; " I was going to split the tree to get a little wood for cooking. The little bit of food that one of us wants gets burnt up directly with thick logs. We do not swallow so much as you coarse, greedy folk. I had just driven the wedge safely in, and every- thing was going as I wished; but the wretched wood was too smooth and suddenly sprang asunder, and the tree closed so quickly that I could not pull out my beautiful white beard. So now it is tight in, and I cannot get away. And you silly, sleek, milk-faced things laugh! Ugh! how odious you are! " 

      The children tried very hard, but they could not pull the beard out, it was caught too fast. 

       "I will run and fetch someone," said Rose-Red. 

       "You senseless goose! " snarled the Dwarf. " Why should you fetch someone? You are already two too many for me. Can you not think of something better? " 

       "Don't be impatient," said Snow-White, " I will help you," and she pulled her scissors out of her pocket, and cut off the end of the beard. 

       As soon as the Dwarf felt himself free, he grabbed a bag which lay amongst the roots of the tree, and which was full of gold, and lifted it up, grumbling to himself, "Rude people, to cut off a piece of my fine beard! Bad luck to you! " and then he swung the bag upon his back, and went off without even once looking at the children. 

       Sometime after that Snow-White and Rose-Red went to catch a dish of fish. As they came near the brook, they saw something like a large grasshopper jumping toward the water, as if it were going to leap in. They ran to it and found it was the Dwarf. 

       "Where are you going? " said Rose-Red; " you surely don't want to go into the water? " 

       "I am not such a fool! " cried the Dwarf; " don't you see that the accursed fish wants to pull me in? " The Little Man had been sitting there fishing, and unluckily the wind had twisted his beard with the fishing-line. Just then a big fish bit, and the feeble creature had not strength to pull it out. The fish kept the upper hand and was pulling the Dwarf toward him. He held on to all the reeds and rushes, but it was of little good, he was forced to follow the fish, and was in great danger of being dragged into the water.

        The girls came just in time. They held him fast and tried to free his beard from the line. But all in vain, beard and line were entangled fast together. Nothing was left but to bring out the scissors and cut the beard, whereby a small part of it was lost. 

       When the Dwarf saw that, he screamed out, "Is that civil, you toadstool, to disfigure one's face? Was it not enough to clip off the end of my beard? Now you have cut off the best part of it. I cannot let myself be seen by my people. I wish you had been made to run the soles off your shoes!" Then he took out a sack of pearls which lay in the rushes, and, without saying a word more, he dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone. 

       It happened that soon afterward the mother sent the two children to the town to buy needles and thread, and laces and ribbons. The road led them across a heath upon which huge pieces of rock lay strewn about. They now noticed a large bird hovering in the air, flying slowly round and round above them. It sank lower and lower, and at last settled near a rock not far off. Directly afterward they heard a loud, piteous cry. They ran up and saw, with horror, that the eagle had seized their old acquaintance the Dwarf, and was going to carry him off. 

       The children, full of pity, at once took tight hold of the Little Man, and pulled against the eagle so long that at last he let his booty go. 

       As soon as the Dwarf had recovered from his first fright, he cried with his shrill voice, "Could you not have done it more carefully! You dragged at my brown coat, so that it is all torn and full of holes. You helpless, clumsy creatures! " Then he took up a sack full of precious stones, and slipped away again under the rock into his hole. 

       The girls, who by this time were used to his thanklessness, went on their way and did their business in the town. As they crossed the heath again on their way home they surprised the Dwarf, who had emptied out his bag of precious stones in a clean spot, and had not thought that any one would come there at such a late hour. The evening sun shone upon the brilliant stones. They glittered and sparkled with all colors so beautifully, that the children stood still and looked at them.

       "Why do you stand gaping there? " cried the Dwarf, and his ashen-gray face became copper-red with rage. He was going on with his bad words, when a loud growling was heard, and a black Bear came trotting toward them out of the forest. The Dwarf sprang up in a fright, but he could not get to his cave, for the Bear was already close. 

       Then in the fear of his heart he cried, " Dear Mr. Bear, spare me! I will give you all my treasures! Look, the beautiful jewels lying there! Grant me my life. What do you want with such a slender little fellow as I? You would not feel me between your teeth. Come, take these two wicked girls, they are tender morsels for you, fat as young quails. For mercy's sake eat them!"

       The Bear took no heed of his words, but gave the wicked creature a single blow with his paw, and he did not move again. The girls had run away, but the Bear called to them, "Snow-White and Rose-Red, do not be afraid. Wait, I will come with you." Then they knew his voice and waited. And when he came up to them, suddenly his bear-skin fell off, and he stood there a handsome man, clothed all in gold.

       "I am a King's Son," he said, " and I was bewitched by that wicked Dwarf, who had stolen my treasures. I have had to run about the forest as a savage bear until I was freed by his death. Now he has got his well-deserved punishment." 

       Snow-White was married to him, and Rose-Red to his brother. They divided between them the great treasure which the Dwarf had gathered together in his cave. The old mother lived peacefully and happily with her children for many years. She took the two rose-trees with her, and they stood before her window, and every year bore the most beautiful roses, white and red.

• If you like this story about a bear, visit our 'Teddy Bear Index' to read even more about bear mischief, poetry etc...
• Visit our family's Crayon Palace collection to download Smokey The Bear coloring sheets.

The Hedge-King

       In former days, every sound had its meaning, the birds also had their own language which every one understood. Now it only sounds like chirping, screeching, and whistling, and to some, like music without words. 

       It came into the birds' mind, however, that they would no longer be without a ruler, and would choose one of themselves to be King. 

       One alone amongst them, the green plover, was opposed to this. He had lived free and would die free, and anxiously flying hither and thither, he cried, " Where shall I go? where shall I go? " He retired into a lonely and unfrequented marsh, and showed himself no more among his fellows.

       The birds now wished to discuss the matter, and on a fine May morning they all gathered together from the woods and fields: eagles and chaffinches, owls and crows, larks and sparrows, how can I name them all? Even the cuckoo came, and the hoopoe, his clerk, who is so called because he is always heard a few days before him, and a very small bird which as yet had no name, mingled with the band.

      The hen, which by some accident had heard nothing of the whole matter, was astonished at the great assemblage. ' What, what, what is going to be done? " she cackled. But the cock calmed his beloved hen, and said, " Only rich people," and told her what they had on hand.

       It was decided, however, that the one who could fly the highest should be King. A tree-frog which was sitting among the bushes, when he heard that, cried a warning, "No, no, no! no! " because he thought that many tears would be shed because of this. But the crow said, "Caw, caw," and that all would pass off peaceably. It was now determined that, on this fine morning, they should at once begin to ascend, so that hereafter no one should be able to say, " I could easily have flown much higher, but the evening came on, and I could do no more." 

       On a given signal, therefore, the whole troop rose up in the air. The dust ascended from the land, and there was tremendous fluttering and whirring and beating of wings. It looked as if a black cloud was rising up. The little birds were, how- ever, soon left behind. They could go no farther, and fell back to the ground. 

       The larger birds held out longer, but none could equal the eagle, who mounted so high that he could have picked the eyes out of the sun. And when he saw that the others could not get up to him, he thought, " Why should I fly any higher, I am the King? " and began to let himself down again. 

       The birds beneath him at once cried to him, " You must be our King, no one has flown so high as you." 

      "Except me," screamed the little fellow without a name, who had crept into the breast feathers of the eagle. And as he was not at all tired, he rose up and mounted so high that he reached heaven itself. When, however, he had gone as far as this, he folded his wings together, and called down with clear and penetrating voice : 

       "I am King! I am King!" 

       "You, our King? " cried the birds angrily. "You have done this by trick and cunning!

       "So they made another condition. He should be King who could go down lowest in the ground. How the goose did flap about with its broad breast when it was once more on the land! How quickly the cock scratched a hole! The duck came off the worst of all, for she leapt into a ditch, but sprained her legs, and waddled away to a neighboring pond, crying, " Cheating, cheating!"

       The little bird without a name, however, sought out a mouse hole, slipped down into it, and cried out of it, with his small voice:

       "I am King! I am King!"

      "You our King! " cried the birds still more angrily. "Do you think your cunning shall prevail?" 

       They determined to keep him a prisoner in the hole and starve him out. The owl was placed as sentinel in front of it, and was not to let the rascal out if she had any value for her life. When evening was come all the birds were feeling very tired after exerting their wings so much that they went to bed with their wives and children. 

       The owl alone remained standing by the mouse-hole, gazing steadfastly into it with her great eyes. In the meantime she, too, had grown tired and thought to herself, "You might certainly shut one eye, you will still watch with the other, and the little miscreant shall not come out of his hole." So she shut one eye, and with the other looked straight at the mouse-hole.

       The little fellow put his head out and peeped, and wanted to slip away, but the owl came forward, and he drew his head back. Then the owl opened the one eye again, and shut the other, intending to shut them in turn all through the night. 

       But when she next shut the one eye, she forgot to open the other. And as soon as both her eyes were shut, she fell asleep The little fellow soon saw that, and slipped away. 

       From that day forth, the owl has never dared to show herself by daylight, for if she does the other birds chase her and pluck her feathers out. She only flies out by night, but hates and pursues mice because they make such ugly holes. 

       The little bird, too, is very unwilling to let himself be seen, because he is afraid it will cost him his life if he is caught. He steals about in the hedges, and when he is quite safe, he sometimes cries, " I am King," and for this reason, the other birds call him in mockery, "Hedge-King." 

       No one, however, was so happy as the lark at not having to obey the little King. As soon as the sun appears, she ascends high in the air and cries, " Ah, how beautiful that is ! beautiful that is! beautiful, beautiful! ah, how beautiful that is!"

• Our dolls sometimes go to a bird-watching themed camp for fun, visit this index page here...
• To find all kinds of bird crafts, poems and stories visit our version of 'The Bird Children.'
• Read more Brother's Grimm tales about birds: The Death of the Hen, The Dog and the Sparrow, and The Owl.

Little Red Riding Hood's Story About That Wolf...

Red Riding-Hood talks too much
 for her own good.

Little Red Riding-Hood, and The Wicked Wolf

       Once upon a time a nice little girl lived in a country village, and she was the sweetest creature that ever was seen; her mother loved her with great fondness, and her grandmother doted on her still more. A pretty red-colored hood had been made for the little girl, which so much became her, that every one called her Little Red Riding-Hood.
       One day, her mother having made some cheesecakes, said to her: "Go, my child, and see how your grandmother does, for I hear she is ill; carry her some of these cakes, and a little pot of butter."
       Little Red Riding-Hood immediately set out, with a basket filled with the cakes and the pot of butter, for her grandmother's house, which was in a village a little distant from her mother's.
       As she was crossing a wood, which lay in her road, she met a Wolf, who had a great mind to eat her up, but dared not indulge his wicked wish, because of some woodcutters who were at work near them in the forest.
       He ventured, however, to ask her whither she was going.
       The little girl, not knowing how dangerous it was to talk to a wolf, replied: "I am going to see my grandmamma, and carry her these cakes and a pot of butter."
       "Does she live far off?" said the Wolf. 

       "Oh, yes," answered little Red Riding-Hood, "beyond the mill you see yonder, at the first house in the village."
       "Well," said the Wolf, "I will go and see her too; I will take this way, and you take that, and let us see which will be there first."
       The Wolf set out, running as fast as he could, and taking the nearest way; while the little girl took the longest, and amused herself as she went, with gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and making nosegays of such flowers as she found within her reach.
       The Wolf soon arrived at the dwelling of the Grandmother, and knocked at the door.
       "Who is there?" said the old woman. 

       "It is your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood," replied the Wolf, ., in the voice of the little girl;

Free coloring pages of Red Riding-Hood
at My Thrifty Scissors blog!

"I have brought you some cheese-cakes, and a little pot of butter, that mamma has sent you."
       The good old woman, who was ill in bed, then called out, "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up."
       The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He sprung upon the poor old grandmother, and ate her up in a few minutes, for it was three days since he had tasted any food.
       The Wolf then shut the door, and laid himself down in the bed, and waited for little Red Riding-Hood, who very soon after reached the door.
       Tap, tap!
       "Who is there?"
       She was at first a little frightened at the hoarse voice of the Wolf, but believing her grandmother had got a cold, she answered: "It is your -grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood. Mamma has sent you some cheesecakes, and a little pot of butter."
       The Wolf called out, softening his voice: "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up." Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened.
       When she came into the room, the Wolf, hiding himself under the bed-clothes, said to her, trying all he could to speak in a feeble voice, "Put the basket, my child, on the stool, take off your clothes, and come into bed with me."
       Little Red Riding-Hood accordingly undressed herself, and stepped into bed; where, wondering to see how her grandmother looked in her night clothes?, she said to her: "Grandmamma, what great arms you have got!'' The wolf answered, "The better to hug thee, my child." Then Red Riding-Hood noticed her ears and said, "Grandmamma, what great ears you have got!" "The better to hear thee, my child," replied the wolf. Red Riding-Hood then observed, "Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!" The cunning old wolf answered her, "The better to see thee, my child." "Grandmamma, what great teeth you have got!" shouted the little girl.
       "They, are to eat thee up:" and, saying these words the wicked Wolf was about to fall upon Little Red Riding-Hood when a young forester, hearing her screams, rushed in and killed him with one blow of his axe!

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The Three Languages

       In Switzerland there lived an old count, who had an only son, a boy who was so stupid he never learned anything. One day the father said, "My son, listen to what I have to say; do all I may, I can knock nothing into your head. Now you shall go away, and an eminent master shall try his hand with you."

       So the youth was sent to a foreign city, and remained a whole year with his master, and at the end of that time he returned home. His father asked him at once what he had learned, and he replied, "My father, I have learned what the dogs bark."

       "Heavens!" exclaimed the father, "is this all you have learned? I will send you to some other city, to another master." So the youth went away a second time, and after he had remained a year with this master, came home again. His father asked him, as before, what he had learned, and he replied, "I have learned what the birds sing." This answer put the father in a passion, and he exclaimed, "Oh, you prodigal! Has all this precious time passed, and have you learned nothing? Are you not ashamed to come into my presence? Once more, I will send you to a third master; but if you learn nothing this time I will no longer be a father to you."

       With this third master the boy remained, as before, twelve months; and when he came back to his father, he told him that he had learned the language that the frogs croak. At this the father flew into a great rage, and, calling his people together, said, "This youth is no longer my son; I cast him off, and command that you lead him into the forest and take away his life."

       The servants led him away into the forest, but they had not the heart to kill him, so they let him go. They cut out, however, the eyes and the tongue of a fawn, and took them for a token to the old count.

       The young man wandered along, and after some time came to a castle, where he asked for a night's lodging. The lord of the castle said, "Yes, if you will sleep down below. There is the tower; you may go, but I warn you it is very perilous, for it is full of wild dogs, which bark and howl at every one, and, at certain hours, a man must be thrown to them, whom they devour."

       Now, on account of these dogs the whole country round was in terror and sorrow, for no one could prevent their ravages; but the youth, being afraid of nothing, said, "Only let me in to these barking hounds, and give me something to throw to them; they will not harm me."

       Since he himself wished it, they gave him some meat for the wild hounds, and let him into the tower. As soon as he entered, the dogs ran about him quite in a friendly way, wagging their tails, and never once barking. They ate, also, the meat he brought, and did not attempt to do him the least injury. The next morning, to the astonishment of every one, he came forth unharmed, and told the lord of the castle, "The hounds have informed me, in their language, why they thus waste and bring destruction upon the land. They have the guardianship of a large treasure beneath the tower, and till that is raised, they have no rest. In what way and manner this is to be done I have also understood from them."

       At these words every one began rejoicing, and the lord promised him his daughter in marriage, if he could raise the treasure. This task he happily accomplished, and the wild hounds thereupon disappeared, and the country was freed from that plague. Then the beautiful maiden was married to him, and they lived happily together.

       After some time, he one day got into a carriage with his wife and set out on the road to Rome. On their way thither, they passed a swamp, where the frogs sat croaking. The young count listened, and when he heard what they said, he became quite thoughtful and sad, but he did not tell his wife the reason. At last they arrived at Rome, and found the Pope was just dead, and there was a great contention among the cardinals as to who should be his successor. They at length resolved, that he on whom some miraculous sign should be shown should be elected. Just as they had thus resolved, at the same moment the young count stepped into the church, and suddenly two snow white Doves flew down, one on each of his shoulders, and remained perched there. The clergy recognized in this circumstance the sign they required, and asked him on the spot whether he would be Pope. The young count was undecided, and knew not whether he were worthy; but the Doves whispered to him that he might take the honor, and so he consented. Then he was anointed and consecrated; and so was fulfilled what the frogs had prophesied - and which had so disturbed him that he should become Pope. Upon his election he had to sing a mass, of which he knew nothing; but the two Doves sitting upon his shoulder told him all that was required.

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The Star Money

       There was once upon a time a little girl whose father and mother were dead, and she was so poor that she no longer had a little room to live in, or bed to sleep in, and at last she had nothing else but the clothes she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her hand which some charitable soul had given her. She was, however, good and pious. And as she was thus forsaken by all the world, she went forth into the open country, trusting in the good God.

       Then a poor man met her, who said, "Ah, give me something to eat, for I am so hungry!" So she reached into her pocket gave him her whole portion of bread, and said, "May God bless it to your use."    

       After walking further still, she came upon a child who was moaning and who said, "My head is so cold, give me something to cover it with." So she took off her hood and gave it to him.

       And when she had traveled a little longer, she met a little boy who had no jacket and was frozen with cold so she gave him her own. 

       As it began to turn dark, she met a poor girl who begged for a frock, and she gave away that also. 

       At length she went into a forest where it had already become dark, and there came yet another child, and asked for a little shirt. So the charitable little girl thought to herself, "It is such a dark night and no one can see me. I will hide here naked and give away my little shirt." 

       And as she so stood, and had not one single thing left, suddenly some stars from heaven fell down, and they were nothing else but hard, smooth pieces of money, and although she had just given her little shirt away, she had a new one which was of the very finest linen. Then she gathered together the money, put it into the shirt and was rich all the days of her life.

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The Shroud

       There was once a mother who had a little boy seven years old, who was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without liking him, and she herself worshiped him above everything in the world. Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took him to Heaven; and for this the mother could not be comforted, and wept both day and night. But soon afterwards, when the child had been buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and played during its life; and if the mother wept, it wept also, and when morning came it disappeared. As, however, the mother would not stop crying, it came one night, in the little white shroud in which it had been laid in its coffin, and with its wreath of flowers round its head, and stood on the bed at her feet, and said, "Oh, mother, do stop crying, or I shall never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry because of all thy tears, which fall upon it." The mother was afraid when she heard that, and wept no more. The next night the child came again, and held a little light in its hand, and said, "Look, mother, my shroud is nearly dry, and I can rest in my grave." Then the mother gave her sorrow into God's keeping, and bore it quietly and patiently, and the child came no more, but slept in its little bed beneath the earth.

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The Flail from Heaven

       A countryman was once going out to plough with a pair of oxen. When he got to the field, both the animals' horns began to grow, and went on growing, and when he wanted to go home they were so big that the oxen could not get through the gateway for them. By good luck a butcher came by just then, and he delivered them over to him, and made the bargain in this way, that he should take the butcher a measure of turnip-seed, and then the butcher was to count him out a silver coin for every seed. I call that well sold! The peasant now went home, and carried the measure of turnip seed to him on his back. On the way, however, he lost one seed out of the bag. The butcher paid him justly as agreed on, and if the peasant had not lost the seed, he would have had one silver coin the more. 

       In the meantime, when he went on his way back, the seed had grown into a tree which reached up to the sky. Then thought the peasant, "As thou hast the chance, thou must just see what the angels are doing up there above, and for once have them before thine eyes." So he climbed up, and saw that the angels above were threshing oats, and he looked on.

       While he was thus watching them, he observed that the tree on which he was standing, was beginning to totter; he peeped down, and saw that someone was just going to cut it down. "If I were to fall down from here it would be a bad thing," thought he, and in his necessity he did not know how to save himself better than by taking the chaff of the oats which lay there in heaps, and twisting a rope of it. He likewise snatched a hoe and a flail which were lying about in heaven, and let himself down by the rope. But he came down on the earth exactly in the middle of a deep, deep hole. So it was a real piece of luck that he had brought the hoe, for he hoed himself a flight of steps with it, and mounted up, and took the flail with him as a token of his truth, so that no one could have any doubt of his story.

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Eve's Various Children

       When Adam and Eve were driven out of Paradise, they were compelled to build a house for themselves on unfruitful ground, and eat their bread in the sweat of their brow. Adam dug up the land, and Eve span. Every year Eve brought a child into the world; but the children were unlike each other, some pretty, and some ugly.

       After a considerable time had gone by, God sent an angel to them, to announce that He was coming to inspect their household. Eve, delighted that the Lord should be so gracious, cleaned her house diligently, decked it with flowers, and strewed reeds on the floor. Then she brought in her children, but only the beautiful ones. She washed and bathed them, combed their hair, put clean raiment on them, and cautioned them to conduct themselves decorously and modestly in the presence of the Lord. They were to bow down before Him civilly, hold out their hands, and to answer His questions modestly and sensibly.

       The ugly children were, however, not to let themselves be seen. One hid himself beneath the hay, another under the roof, a third in the straw, the fourth in the stove, the fifth in the cellar, the sixth under a tub, the seventh beneath the wine cask, the eighth under an old fur cloak, the ninth and tenth beneath the cloth out of which she always made their clothes, and the eleventh and twelfth under the leather out of which she cut their shoes. She had scarcely got ready, before there was a knock at the door. Adam looked through a chink, and saw that it was the Lord. Adam opened the door respectfully, and the Heavenly Father entered.

       There, in a row, stood the pretty children, and bowed before Him, held out their hands, and knelt down. The Lord, however, began to bless them, laid His hands on the first, and said, "Thou shalt be a powerful king"; and to the second, "Thou a prince"; to the third, "Thou a count"; to the fourth, "Thou a knight"; to the fifth, "Thou a nobleman"; to the sixth, "Thou a burgher to the seventh, "Thou a merchant"; to the eighth, "Thou a learned man." He bestowed upon them also all His richest blessings.

       When Eve saw that the Lord was so mild and gracious, she thought, "I will bring hither my ill-favored children also; it may be that He will bestow His blessing on them likewise." So she ran and brought them out of the hay, the straw, the stove, and wherever else she had concealed them. Then came the whole coarse, dirty, shabby, sooty band. The Lord smiled, looked at them all, and said, "I will bless these also." He laid His hands on the first, and said to him, "Thou shalt be a peasant"; to the second, "Thou a fisherman"; to the third, "Thou a smith"; to the fourth, "Thou a tanner"; to the fifth, "Thou a weaver"; to the sixth, "Thou a shoemaker"; to the seventh, "Thou a tailor"; to the eighth, "Thou a potter"; to the ninth, "Thou a wagoner"; to the tenth, "Thou a sailor"; to the eleventh, "Thou an errand-boy"; to the twelfth, "Thou a scullion all the days of thy life."

       When Eve had heard all this she said, "Lord, how unequally Thou dividest Thy gifts! After all they are all of them my children, whom I have brought into the world. Thy favors should be given to all alike." But God answered, "Eve, thou dost not understand. It is right and necessary that the entire world should be supplied from thy children. If they were all Princes and lords, who would grow corn, thresh it, grind and bake it? Who would be blacksmiths, weavers, carpenters, masons, laborers, tailors and seamstresses? Each shall have his own place, so that one shall support the other, and all shall be fed like the limbs of one body." Then Eve answered, "Ah, Lord, forgive me, I was too quick in speaking to Thee. Have Thy divine will with my children."

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The Tailor in Heaven

       One very fine day it came to pass that the good God wished to enjoy Himself in the heavenly garden, and took all the apostles and saints with Him, so that no one stayed in heaven but Saint Peter. The Lord had commanded him to let no one in during His absence, so Peter stood by the door and kept watch. Before long someone knocked. Peter asked who was there, and what he wanted.

       "I am a poor, honest tailor who prays for admission," replied a smooth voice.

       "Honest Indeed," said Peter, "like the thief on the gallows! You have been light-fingered and have snipped folks' clothes away. You will not get into heaven. The Lord has forbidden me to let any one in while he is out."

       "Come, do be merciful," cried the tailor. "Little scraps which fall off the table of their own accord are not stolen, and are not worth speaking about. Look, I am lame, and have blisters on my feet with waiting here, I cannot possibly turn back again. Only let me in, and I will do all the rough work. I will carry the children, and wash their clothes, and wash and clean the benches on which they have been playing, and patch all their torn clothes."

       Saint Peter let himself be moved by pity, and opened the door of heaven just wide enough for the lame tailor to slip his lean body in. He was forced to sit down in a corner behind the door, and was to stay quietly and peaceably there, in order that the Lord, when He returned, might not observe him and be angry.

       The tailor obeyed, but once when Saint Peter went outside the door, he got up, and full of curiosity, went round about into every corner of heaven, and inspected the arrangement of every place. At length he came to a spot where many beautiful and delightful chairs were standing, and in the midst was a seat all of gold which was set with shining jewels; likewise it was much higher than the other chairs, and a footstool of gold was before it. It was, however, the seat on which the Lord sat when He was at home, and from which He could see everything which happened on earth. The tailor stood still, and looked at the seat for a long time, for it pleased him better than all else. At last he could master his curiosity no longer, and climbed up and seated himself in the chair.

       Then he saw everything which was happening on earth, and observed an ugly old woman who was standing washing by the side of a stream, secretly laying two veils on one side for herself. The sight of this made the tailor so angry that he laid hold of the golden footstool, and threw it down to earth through heaven, at the old thief. As, however, he could not bring the stool back again, he slipped quietly out of the chair, seated himself in his place behind the door, and behaved as if he had never stirred from the spot.

       When the Lord and Master came back again with His heavenly companions, He did not see the tailor behind the door, but when He seated Himself on His chair the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter what had become of the stool, but he did not know. Then He asked if he had let anyone come in.

       "I know of no one who has been here," answered Peter, "but a lame tailor, who is still sitting behind the door." Then the Lord had the tailor brought before Him, and asked him if he had taken away the stool, and where he had put it.

       "Oh, Lord," answered the tailor joyously, "I threw it in my anger down to earth at an old woman whom I saw stealing two veils at the washing."

       "Oh, you knave," said the Lord, "were I to judge as you judge, how do you think you could have escaped so long? I should long ago have had no chairs, benches, seats, nay, not even an oven-fork, but should have thrown everything down at the sinners. Henceforth you can stay no longer in heaven, but must go outside the door again. Then go where you will. No one shall give punishment here, but I alone, the Lord."

       Peter was obliged to take the tailor out of heaven again, and as he had torn shoes, and feet covered with blisters, he took a stick in his hand, and went to the Waitabit inn, where the good soldiers sit and make merry.

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