So she was married to young Master Fox with much dancing and rejoicing, and for anything I have heard to the contrary, they may be dancing still.
THE ELVES
(I)
THERE was once a shoemaker, who, through no fault of his own, became so poor that at last he had nothing left but just enough leather to make one pair of shoes. He cut out the shoes at night, so as to set to work upon them next morning; and as he had a good conscience, he laid himself quietly down in his bed, committed himself to heaven, and fell asleep.
In the morning, after he had said his prayers, and was going to get to work, he found the pair of shoes made and finished, and standing on his table. He was very much astonished, and could not tell what to think, and he took the shoes in his hand to examine them more nearly; and they were so well made that every st.i.tch was in its right place, just as if they had come from the hand of a master-workman.
Soon after a purchaser entered, and as the shoes fitted him very well, he gave more than the usual price for them, so that the shoemaker had enough money to buy leather for two more pairs of shoes. He cut them out at night, and intended to set to work the next morning with fresh spirit; but that was not to be, for when he got up they were already finished, and a customer even was not lacking, who gave him so much money that he was able to buy leather enough for four new pairs. Early next morning he found the four pairs also finished, and so it always happened; whatever he cut out in the evening was worked up by the morning, so that he was soon in the way of making a good living, and in the end became very well to do.
One night, not long before Christmas, when the shoemaker had finished cutting out, and before he went to bed, he said to his wife,
"How would it be if we were to sit up to-night and see who it is that does us this service?"
His wife agreed, and set a light to burn. Then they both hid in a corner of the room, behind some coats that were hanging up, and then they began to watch. As soon as it was midnight they saw come in two neatly-formed naked little men, who seated themselves before the shoemaker"s table, and took up the work that was already prepared, and began to st.i.tch, to pierce, and to hammer so cleverly and quickly with their little fingers that the shoemaker"s eyes could scarcely follow them, so full of wonder was he. And they never left off until everything was finished and was standing ready on the table, and then they jumped up and ran off.
The next morning the shoemaker"s wife said to her husband, "Those little men have made us rich, and we ought to show ourselves grateful. With all their running about, and having nothing to cover them, they must be very cold. I"ll tell you what; I will make little shirts, coats, waistcoats, and breeches for them, and knit each of them a pair of stockings, and you shall make each of them a pair of shoes."
The husband consented willingly, and at night, when everything was finished, they laid the gifts together on the table, instead of the cut-out work, and placed themselves so that they could observe how the little men would behave. When midnight came, they rushed in, ready to set to work, but when they found, instead of the pieces of prepared leather, the neat little garments put ready for them, they stood a moment in surprise, and then they testified the greatest delight. With the greatest swiftness they took up the pretty garments and slipped them on, singing,
"What spruce and dandy boys are we!
No longer cobblers we will be."
Then they hopped and danced about, jumping over the chairs and tables, and at last they danced out at the door.
From that time they were never seen again; but it always went well with the shoemaker as long as he lived, and whatever he took in hand prospered.
(II.)
THERE was once a poor servant maid, who was very cleanly and industrious; she swept down the house every day, and put the sweepings on a great heap by the door. One morning, before she began her work, she found a letter, and as she could not read, she laid her broom in the corner, and took the letter to her master and mistress, to see what it was about; and it was an invitation from the elves, who wished the maid to come and stand G.o.dmother to one of their children. The maid did not know what to do; and as she was told that no one ought to refuse the elves anything, she made up her mind to go. So there came three little elves, who conducted her into the middle of a high mountain, where the little people lived. Here everything was of a very small size, but more fine and elegant than can be told. The mother of the child lay in a bed made of ebony, studded with pearls, the counterpane was embroidered with gold, the cradle was of ivory, and the bathing-tub of gold. So the maid stood G.o.dmother, and was then for going home, but the elves begged her to stay at least three more days with them; and so she consented, and spent the time in mirth and jollity, and the elves seemed very fond of her. At last, when she was ready to go away, they filled her pockets full of gold, and led her back again out of the mountain. When she got back to the house, she was going to begin working again, and took her broom in her hand; it was still standing in the corner where she had left it, and began to sweep. Then came up some strangers and asked her who she was, and what she was doing. And she found that instead of three days, she had been seven years with the elves in the mountain, and that during that time her master and mistress had died.
(III.)
The elves once took a child away from its mother, and left in its place a changeling with a big head and staring eyes, who did nothing but eat and drink. The mother in her trouble went to her neighbours and asked their advice. The neighbours told her to take the changeling into the kitchen and put it near the hearth, and then to make up the fire, and boil water in two egg-sh.e.l.ls; that would make the changeling laugh, and if he laughed, it would be all over with him. So the woman did as her neighbours advised. And when she set the egg-sh.e.l.ls of water on the fire, the changeling said,
"Though old I be As forest tree, Cooking in an egg-sh.e.l.l never did I see!"
and began to laugh. And directly there came in a crowd of elves bringing in the right child; and they laid it near the hearth, and carried the changeling away with them.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM
"TURN BACK, TURN BACK, THOU PRETTY BRIDE, WITHIN THIS HOUSE THOU MUST NOT BIDE, FOR HERE DO EVIL THINGS BETIDE."]
THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM
THERE was once a miller who had a beautiful daughter, and when she was grown up he became anxious that she should be well married and taken care of; so he thought,
"If a decent sort of man comes and asks her in marriage, I will give her to him."
Soon after a suitor came forward who seemed very well to do, and as the miller knew nothing to his disadvantage, he promised him his daughter.
But the girl did not seem to love him as a bride should love her bridegroom; she had no confidence in him; as often as she saw him or thought about him, she felt a chill at her heart. One day he said to her,
"You are to be my bride, and yet you have never been to see me."
The girl answered,
"I do not know where your house is."
Then he said,
"My house is a long way in the wood."
She began to make excuses, and said she could not find the way to it; but the bridegroom said,
"You must come and pay me a visit next Sunday; I have already invited company, and I will strew ashes on the path through the wood, so that you will be sure to find it."
When Sunday came, and the girl set out on her way, she felt very uneasy without knowing exactly why; and she filled both pockets full of peas and lentils. There were ashes strewed on the path through the wood, but, nevertheless, at each step she cast to the right and left a few peas on the ground. So she went on the whole day until she came to the middle of the wood, where it was the darkest, and there stood a lonely house, not pleasant in her eyes, for it was dismal and unhomelike. She walked in, but there was no one there, and the greatest stillness reigned. Suddenly she heard a voice cry,
"Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride, Within this house thou must not bide, For here do evil things betide."
The girl glanced round, and perceived that the voice came from a bird who was hanging in a cage by the wall. And again it cried,
"Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride, Within this house thou must not bide, For here do evil things betide."
Then the pretty bride went on from one room into another through the whole house, but it was quite empty, and no soul to be found in it.
At last she reached the cellar, and there sat a very old woman nodding her head.
"Can you tell me," said the bride, "if my bridegroom lives here?"
"Oh, poor child," answered the old woman, "do you know what has happened to you? You are in a place of cut-throats. You thought you were a bride, and soon to be married, but death will be your spouse. Look here, I have a great kettle of water to set on, and when once they have you in their power they will cut you in pieces without mercy, cook you, and eat you, for they are cannibals. Unless I have pity on you, and save you, all is over with you!"
Then the old woman hid her behind a great cask, where she could not be seen.