The Norwegian Fairy Book Part 6

Here he again sold his cat, and this time he received two hundred dollars for her, and that without any haggling. But when he had sailed off and was out at sea a way, there sat the cat up in the mast. And the storm at once began again, and finally he was again driven to a land in which he had never been. Again he turned in at a tavern, and there the table was also covered with switches; but every switch was a yard and a half long, and as thick as a small broom, and the people told him that they knew of nothing more disagreeable than to sit down to eat, for there were great, ugly rats by the thousand. Only with toil and trouble could one manage to shove a bite of something into one's mouth once in a while, so hard was it to defend oneself against the rats. Then the cat was again brought from the ship, and now the people could eat in peace.

They begged and pleaded that the merchant sell them his cat; and for a long time he refused; but at last he promised that they should have her for three hundred dollars. And they paid him, and thanked him, and blessed him into the bargain.

Now when the merchant was out at sea again, he considered how much the boy had gained with the four-shilling piece he had given him. "Well, he shall have some of the money," said the merchant to himself, "but not all of it. For he has to thank me for the cat, which I bought for him, and charity begins at home."

But while the merchant was thinking these thoughts, such a storm and tempest arose that all thought the ship would sink. Then the merchant realized that there was nothing left for him to do but to promise that the boy should have all the money. No sooner had he made his vow, than the weather turned fair, and he had a favoring wind for his journey home. And when he landed, he gave the youth the six hundred dollars and his daughter to boot. For now the scullion was as rich as the merchant himself and richer, and thereafter he lived in splendor and happiness.

And he took in his mother and treated her kindly. "For I do not believe that charity begins at home," said the youth.

NOTE

"The Honest Four-Shilling Piece" (Asbjornsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 306, No. 59) stands for the idealization of childish simplicity and honesty, which after much travail, and despite the ill-will of the "experienced," comes into its deserved own.

XIII

THE MAGIC APPLES

Once upon a time there was a lad who was better off than all the others.

He was never short of money, for he had a purse which was never empty.

He never was short of food, for he had a table-cloth on which, as soon as he spread it, he found all he wanted to eat and drink. And, besides, he had a magic wishing cap. When he put it on he could wish himself wherever he wanted, and there he would be that very moment.

There was only one thing that he lacked: he had no wife, and he was gradually coming into the years when it would be necessary for him to make haste.

As he was walking sadly along one fine day, it occurred to him to wish himself where he would find the most beautiful princess in the world. No sooner had he thought of it than he was there. And it was a land which he had never yet seen, and a city in which he had never yet been. And the king had a daughter, so handsome that he had never yet beheld her like, and he wanted to have her on the spot. But she would have nothing to do with him, and was very haughty.

Finally he despaired altogether, and was so beside himself that he could no longer be where she was not. So he took his magic cap and wished himself into the castle. He wanted to say good-by, so he said. And she laid her hand in his. "I wish we were far beyond the end of the world!"

said the youth, and there they were. But the king's daughter wept, and begged to be allowed to go home again. He could have all the gold and silver in the castle in return. "I have money enough for myself," said the youth, and he shook his purse so that money just rolled about. He could sit down at the royal table and eat the finest food, and drink the finest wines, said she. "I have enough to eat and drink myself," said the youth. "See, you can sit down at the table," said he, and at once he spread his table-cloth. And there stood a table covered with the best one might wish; and the king himself ate no better.

After they had eaten, the king's daughter said: "O, do look at the handsome apples up there on the tree! If you were really kind, you would fetch me down a couple of them!" The youth was not lazy, and climbed up.

But he had forgotten his table-cloth and his purse, and these she took.

And while he was shaking down the apples his cap fell off. She at once put it on and wished herself back in her own room, and there she was that minute.

"You might have known it," said the youth to himself, and hurried down the tree. He began to cry and did not know what to do. And as he was sitting there, he sampled the apples which he had thrown down. No sooner had he tried one than he had a strange feeling in his head, and when he looked more closely, he had a pair of horns. "Well, now it can do me no more harm," said he, and calmly went on eating the apples. But suddenly the horns had disappeared, and he was as before. "Good enough!" said the youth. And with that he put the apples in his pocket, and set out to search for the king's daughter.

He went from city to city, and sailed from country to country; but it was a long journey, and lasted a year and a day, and even longer.

But one day he got there after all. It was a Sunday, and he found out that the king's daughter was at church. Then he sat himself down with his apples before the church door, and pretended to be a peddler.

"Apples of Damascus! Apples of Damascus!" he cried. And sure enough, the king's daughter came, and told her maidens to go and see what desirable things the peddler from abroad might have to offer. Yes, he had apples of Damascus. "What do the apples give one?" asked the maiden. "Wisdom and beauty!" said the peddler, and the maiden bought.

When the king's daughter had eaten of the apples, she had a pair of horns. And then there was such a wailing in the castle that it was pitiful to hear. And the castle was hung with black, and in the whole kingdom proclamation was made from all pulpits that whoever could help the king's daughter should get her, and half the kingdom besides. Then Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry, and the best physicians in the country came along.

But none of them could help the princess.

But one day a foreign doctor from afar came to court. He was not from their country, he said, and had made the journey purposely just to try his luck here. But he must see the king's daughter alone, said he, and permission was granted him.

The king's daughter recognized him, and grew red and pale in turn. "If I help you now, will you marry me?" asked the youth. Yes, indeed she would. Then he gave her one of the magic apples, and her horns were only half as large as before. "But I cannot do more until I have my cap, and my table-cloth, and my purse back again," said he. So she went and brought him the things. Then he gave her still another magic apple, and now the horns were no more than tiny hornlets. "But now I cannot go on until you have sworn that you will be true to me," said he. And she swore that she would. And after she had eaten the third apple, her forehead was quite smooth again, and she was even more beautiful than in days gone by.

Then there was great joy in the castle. They prepared for the wedding with baking and brewing, and invited people from East and West to come to it. And they ate and drank, and were merry and of good cheer, and if they have not stopped, they are merry and of good cheer to this very day!

NOTE

"The Magic Apples" (_Norske Eventyr og Sagn_, optegnet av Sophus Bugge og Rikard Berge, Christiania, 1909, p. 61) is probably a somewhat original version of one of the cycles of tales in which people acquire a.s.ses' ears, long noses, humped backs and other adornments, through eating some enchanted fruit. The British Isles are believed to be the home-land of this tale, and it is thought to have emigrated to Scandinavia by way of France and Germany.

XIV

SELF DID IT

Once upon a time there was a mill, in which it was impossible to grind flour, because such strange things kept happening there. But there was a poor woman who was in urgent need of a little meal one evening, and she asked whether they would not allow her to grind a little flour during the night. "For heaven's sake," said the mill-owner, "that is quite impossible! There are ghosts enough in the mill as it is." But the woman said that she must grind a little; for she did not have a pinch of flour in the house with which to make mush, and there was nothing for her children to eat. So at last he allowed her to go to the mill at night and grind some flour. When she came, she lit a fire under a big tar-barrel that was standing there; got the mill going, sat down by the fire, and began to knit. After a time a girl came in and nodded to her.

"Good evening!" said she to the woman. "Good evening!" said the woman; kept her seat, and went on knitting. But then the girl who had come in began to pull apart the fire on the hearth. The woman built it up again.

"What is your name?" asked the girl from underground.

"Self is my name," said the woman.

That seemed a curious name to the girl, and she once more began to pull the fire apart. Then the woman grew angry and began to scold, and built it all up again. Thus they went on for a good while; but at last, while they were in the midst of their pulling apart and building up of the fire, the woman upset the tar-barrel on the girl from underground. Then the latter screamed and ran away, crying:

"Father, father! Self burned me!"

"Nonsense, if self did it, then self must suffer for it!" came the answer from below the hill.

NOTE.

"Self Did It" (Asbjornsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 10. From the vicinity of Sandakar, told by a half-grown boy) belongs to the cycle of the Polyphemus fairy-tales, with a possible glimmer of the old belief that beings low in the mythological scale are most easily controlled by fire.

XV

THE MASTER GIRL

Once upon a time there was a king who had several sons; I do not just know how many there were, but the youngest was not content at home, and insisted on going out into the world to seek his fortune. And in the end the king had to give him permission to do so. After he had wandered for a few days, he came to a giant's castle, and took service with the giant. In the morning the giant wanted to go off to herd his goats, and when he started he told the king's son he was to clean the stable in the meantime. "And when you are through with that, you need do nothing more for to-day, for you might as well know that you have come to a kind master," said he. "But you must do what you are told to do conscientiously and, besides, you must not go into any of the rooms that lie behind the one in which you slept last night, else your life will pay the forfeit."

"He surely is a kind master," said the king's son to himself, walked up and down the room, and whistled and sang; for, thought he, there would be plenty of time to clean the stable. "But it would be nice to take a look at the other room, there surely must be something in it that he is alarmed about, since I am not so much as to take a look," thought he, and went into the first room. There hung a kettle, and it was boiling, but the king's son could find no fire beneath it. "What can there be in it?" thought he, and dipped in a lock of his hair, and at once the hair grew just like copper. "That's a fine soup, and whoever tastes it will burn his mouth," said the youth, and went into the next room. There hung another kettle that bubbled and boiled; but there was no fire beneath it, either. "I must try this one, too," said the king's son, and again he dipped in a lock of his hair and it grew just like silver. "We have no such expensive soup at home," said the king's son, "but the main thing is, how does it taste?" and with that he went into the third room.

And there hung still another kettle, a-boiling just like those in the two other rooms, and the king's son wanted to try this one, too. He dipped in a lock of his hair, and it came out like pure gold, and fairly shimmered.

Then the king's son said: "Better and better! But if he cooks gold here, I wonder what he cooks inside, there?" And he wanted to see, so he went into the fourth room. Here there was no kettle to be seen; but a maiden sat on a bench who must have been a king's daughter; yet whatever she might be, the king's son had never seen any one so beautiful in all his days. "Now in heaven's name, what are you doing here?" asked the maiden.

"I hired myself out here yesterday," said the king's son. "May G.o.d be your aid, for it is a fine service you have chosen!" said she. "O, the master is very friendly," said the king's son. "He has given me no hard work to do to-day. When I have cleaned out the stable, I need do nothing more." "Yes, but how are you going to manage it?" she went on. "If you do as the others have done, then for every shovelful you pitch out, ten fresh shovelfuls will fly in. But I'll tell you how to go about it. You must turn around the shovel, and work with the handle, then everything will fly out by itself."