Snowdrop and Other Tales Part 21

The old King was very angry with his youngest son, thinking that he had tried to take his life. So he had the Court a.s.sembled to give judgment upon him, and it was decided that he must be secretly got out of the way.

One day when the Prince was going out hunting, thinking no evil, the King's Huntsman was ordered to go with him. Seeing the Huntsman look sad, the Prince said to him, 'My good Huntsman, what is the matter with you?'

The Huntsman answered, 'I can't bear to tell you, and yet I must.'

The Prince said, 'Say it out; whatever it is I will forgive you.'

'Alas!' said the Huntsman, 'I am to shoot you dead; it is the King's command.'

The Prince was horror-stricken, and said, 'Dear Huntsman, do not kill me, give me my life. Let me have your dress, and you shall have my royal robes.'

The Huntsman said, 'I will gladly do so; I could never have shot you.'

So they changed clothes, and the Huntsman went home, but the Prince wandered away into the forest.

After a time three wagon loads of gold and precious stones came to the King for his youngest son. They were sent by the Kings who had been saved by the Prince's sword and his miraculous loaf, and who now wished to show their grat.i.tude.

Then the old King thought, 'What if my son really was innocent?' and said to his people, 'If only he were still alive! How sorry I am that I ordered him to be killed.'

'He is still alive,' said the Huntsman. 'I could not find it in my heart to carry out your commands,' and he told the King what had taken place.

A load fell from the King's heart on hearing the good news, and he sent out a proclamation to all parts of his kingdom that his son was to come home, where he would be received with great favour.

In the meantime, the Princess had caused a road to be made of pure shining gold leading to her castle, and told her people that whoever came riding straight along it would be the true bridegroom, and they were to admit him. But any one who came either on one side of the road or the other would not be the right one, and he was not to be let in.

When the year had almost pa.s.sed, the eldest Prince thought that he would hurry to the Princess, and by giving himself out as her deliverer would gain a wife and a kingdom as well. So he rode away, and when he saw the beautiful golden road he thought it would be a thousand pities to ride upon it; so he turned aside, and rode to the right of it. But when he reached the gate the people told him that he was not the true bridegroom, and he had to go away.

Soon after the second Prince came, and when he saw the golden road he thought it would be a thousand pities for his horse to tread upon it; so he turned aside, and rode up on the left of it. But when he reached the gate he was also told that he was not the true bridegroom, and, like his brother, was turned away.

When the year had quite come to an end, the third Prince came out of the wood to ride to his beloved, and through her to forget all his past sorrows. So on he went, thinking only of her, and wishing to be with her; and he never even saw the golden road. His horse cantered right along the middle of it, and when he reached the gate it was flung open and the Princess received him joyfully, and called him her Deliverer, and the Lord of her Kingdom. Their marriage was celebrated without delay, and with much rejoicing. When it was over, she told him that his father had called him back and forgiven him. So he went to him and told him everything; how his brothers had deceived him, and how they had forced him to keep silence. The old King wanted to punish them, but they had taken a ship and sailed away over the sea, and they never came back as long as they lived.

[Ill.u.s.tration: {A dwarf.}]

Clever Grethel

There was once a cook called Grethel, who wore shoes with red rosettes; and when she went out in them, she turned and twisted about gaily, and thought, 'How fine I am!'

After her walk she would take a draught of wine, in her light-heartedness; and as wine gives an appet.i.te, she would then taste some of the dishes that she was cooking, saying to herself, 'The cook is bound to know how the food tastes.'

It so happened that one day her master said to her, 'Grethel, I have a guest coming to-night; roast me two fowls in your best style.'

'It shall be done, sir!' answered Grethel. So she killed the chickens, scalded and plucked them, and then put them on the spit; towards evening she put them down to the fire to roast. They got brown and crisp, but still the guest did not come. Then Grethel called to her Master, 'If the guest does not come I must take the fowls from the fire; but it will be a thousand pities if they are not eaten soon while they are juicy.'

Her Master said, 'I will go and hasten the guest myself.'

Hardly had her Master turned his back before Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on it on one side, and said to herself, 'It's thirsty work standing over the fire so long. Who knows when he will come. I'll go down into the cellar in the meantime and take a drop of wine.'

She ran down and held a jug to the tap, then said, 'Here's to your health, Grethel,' and took a good pull. 'Drinking leads to drinking,'

she said, 'and it's not easy to give it up,' and again she took a good pull. Then she went upstairs and put the fowls to the fire again, poured some b.u.t.ter over them, and turned the spit round with a will.

It smelt so good that she thought, 'There may be something wanting, I must have a taste.' And she pa.s.sed her finger over the fowls and put it in her mouth. 'Ah, how good they are; it's a sin and a shame that there's n.o.body to eat them.' She ran to the window to see if her Master was coming with the guest, but she saw n.o.body. Then she went back to the fowls again, and thought, 'One wing is catching a little, better to eat it--and eat it I will.' So she cut it off and ate it with much enjoyment. When it was finished, she thought, 'The other must follow, or the Master will notice that something is wanting.'

When the wings were consumed she went back to the window again to look for her Master, but no one was in sight.

'Who knows,' she thought. 'I dare say they won't come at all; they must have dropped in somewhere else.' Then she said to herself, 'Now, Grethel, don't be afraid, eat it all up: why should the good food be wasted? When it's all gone you can rest; run and have another drink and then finish it up.' So she went down to the cellar, took a good drink, and contentedly ate up the rest of the fowl. When it had all disappeared and still no Master came, Grethel looked at the other fowl and said, 'Where one is gone the other must follow. What is good for one is right for the other. If I have a drink first I shall be none the worse.' So she took another hearty pull at the jug, and then she sent the other fowl after the first one.

In the height of her enjoyment, her Master came back, and cried, 'Hurry, Grethel, the guest is just coming.'

'Very well, sir, I'll soon have it ready,' answered Grethel.

Her Master went to see if the table was properly laid, and took the big carving-knife with which he meant to cut up the fowls, to sharpen it. In the meantime the guest came and knocked politely at the door.

Grethel ran to see who was there, and, seeing the guest, she put her finger to her lips and said, 'Be quiet, and get away quickly; if my Master catches you it will be the worse for you. He certainly invited you to supper, but only with the intention of cutting off both your ears. You can hear him sharpening his knife now.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: {Then he ran after him, still holding the carving-knife, and cried, 'Only one, only one!'}]

The guest heard the knife being sharpened, and hurried off down the steps as fast as he could.

Grethel ran with great agility to her Master, shrieking, 'A fine guest you have invited, indeed!'

'Why, what's the matter, Grethel? What do you mean?'

'Well,' she said, 'he has taken the two fowls that I had just put upon the dish, and run off with them.'

'That's a clever trick!' said her Master, regretting his fine fowls.

'If he had only left me one so that I had something to eat.'

He called out to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear.

Then he ran after him, still holding the carving-knife, and cried, 'Only one, only one!'--meaning that the guest should leave him one fowl; but the guest only thought that he meant he was to give him one ear, and he ran as if he was pursued by fire, and so took both his ears safely home.

The King of the Golden Mountain

There was once a Merchant who had two children, a boy and a girl. They were both small, and not old enough to run about. He had also two richly-laden ships at sea, and just as he was expecting to make a great deal of money by the merchandise, news came that they had both been lost. So now instead of being a rich man he was quite poor, and had nothing left but one field near the town.

To turn his thoughts from his misfortune, he went out into this field, and as he was walking up and down a little black Mannikin suddenly appeared before him, and asked why he was so sad. The Merchant said, 'I would tell you at once, if you could help me.'

'Who knows,' answered the little Mannikin. 'Perhaps I could help you.'

Then the Merchant told him that all his wealth had been lost in a wreck, and that now he had nothing left but this field.

'Don't worry yourself,' said the Mannikin. 'If you will promise to bring me in twelve years' time the first thing which rubs against your legs when you go home, you shall have as much gold as you want.'

The Merchant thought, 'What could it be but my dog?' He never thought of his boy, but said Yes, and gave the Mannikin his bond signed and sealed, and went home.

When he reached the house his little son, delighted to hold on to the benches and totter towards his father, seized him by the leg to steady himself.