Part 9

“Oh, when one hasn’t got the barrel, one must be satisfied with the bung,” said the man. “I’m always so thirsty, I can never get enough beer and wine.” And then he asked for leave to go with him in the ship.

“If you want to go with me you must make haste and get on board,” said Ashiepattle.

Yes, that he would. And so he went on board and took the bung with him to allay his thirst.

When they had sailed a while again they met one who was lying with his ear to the ground, listening.

“Who are you, and what is the good of lying there on the ground listening?” said Ashiepattle.

“I’m listening to the grass, for I have such good ears that I can hear the grass growing,” said the man. And then he asked leave to go with him in the ship. Ashiepattle could not say nay to that, so he said:

“If you want to go with me, you must make haste and get on board.”

Yes, the man would. And he also went on board.

When they had sailed some distance they came to one who was standing taking aim with a gun.

“Who are you, and what is the good of standing there aiming like that?” asked Ashiepattle.

So the man said: “I have such good eyes that I can hit anything, right to the end of the world.” And then he asked for leave to go with him in the ship.

“If you want to go with me, you must make haste and get on board,” said Ashiepattle.

Yes, that he would. And he went on board.

When they had sailed some distance again they came to one who was hopping and limping about on one leg, and on the other he had seven ton weights.

“Who are you, said Ashiepattle, “and what is the good of hopping and limping about on one leg with seven ton weights on the other?”

“I am so light,” said the man, “that if I walked on both my legs I should get to the end of the world in less than five minutes.” And then he asked for leave to go with him in the ship.

“If you want to go with us, you must make haste and get on board,” said Ashiepattle.

Yes, that he would. And so he joined Ashiepattle and his crew on the ship.

When they had sailed on some distance they met one who was standing holding his hand to his mouth.

“Who are you?” said Ashiepattle, “and what is the good of standing there, holding your mouth like that?”

“Oh, I have seven summers and fifteen winters in my body,” said the man; “so I think I ought to keep my mouth shut, for if they get out all at the same time they would finish off the world altogether.” And then he asked for leave to go with him in the ship.

“If you want to go with us you must make haste and get on board,” said Ashiepattle.

Yes, that he would, and then he joined the others on the ship.

When they had sailed a long time they came to the king’s palace.

Ashiepattle went straight in to the king and said the ship stood ready in the courtyard outside; and now he wanted the princess, as the king had promised.

The king did not like this very much, for Ashiepattle did not cut a very fine figure; he was black and sooty, and the king did not care to give his daughter to such a tramp, so he told Ashiepattle that he would have to wait a little.

“But you can have her all the same, if by this time to-morrow you can empty my storehouse of three hundred barrels of meat,” said the king.

“I suppose I must try,” said Ashiepattle; “but perhaps you don’t mind my taking one of my crew with me?”

“Yes, you can do that, and take all six if you like,” said the king, for he was quite sure that even if Ashiepattle took six hundred with him, it would be impossible. So Ashiepattle took with him the one who ate stones and always hungered after meat.

When they came next morning and opened the storehouse they found he had eaten all the meat, except six small legs of mutton, one for each of his companions. Ashiepattle then went to the king and said the storehouse was empty, and he supposed he could now have the princess.

The king went into the storehouse and, sure enough, it was quite empty; but Ashiepattle was still black and sooty, and the king thought it was really too bad that such a tramp should have his daughter. So he said he had a cellar full of beer and old wine, three hundred barrels of each kind, which he would have him drink first.

“I don’t mind your having my daughter if you can drink them up by this time to-morrow,” said the king.

“I suppose I must try,” said Ashiepattle, “but perhaps you don’t mind my taking one of my crew with me?”

“Yes, you may do that,” said the king, for he was quite sure there was too much beer and wine even for all seven of them. Ashiepattle took with him the one who was always sucking the bung and was always thirsty; and the king then shut them down in the cellar.

There the thirsty one drank barrel after barrel, as long as there was any left, but in the last barrel he left a couple of pints to each of his companions.

In the morning the cellar was opened and Ashiepattle went at once to the king and said he had finished the beer and wine, and now he supposed he could have the princess as the king had promised.

“Well, I must first go down to the cellar and see,” said the king, for he could not believe it; but when he got there he found nothing but empty barrels.

But Ashiepattle was both black and sooty and the king thought it wouldn’t do for him to have such a son in law. So he said that if Ashiepattle could get water from the end of the world in ten minutes for the princess’s tea, he could have both her and half the kingdom; for he thought that task would be quite impossible.

“I suppose I must try,” said Ashiepattle, and sent for the one of his crew who jumped about on one leg and had seven ton weights on the other, and told him he must take off the weights and use his legs as quickly as he could, for he must have water from the end of the world for the princess’s tea in ten minutes.

So he took off the weights, got a bucket, and set off, and the next moment he was out of sight. But they waited and waited and still he did not return. At last it wanted but three minutes to the time and the king became as pleased as if he had won a big wager.

Then Ashiepattle called the one who could hear the grass grow and told him to listen and find out what had become of their companion.

“He has fallen asleep at the well”,” said he who could hear the grass grow; “I can hear him snoring, and a troll is scratching his head.” Ashiepattle then called the one who could shoot to the end of the world and told him to send a bullet into the troll; he did so and hit the troll right in the eye. The troll gave such a yell that he woke the man who had come to fetch the water for the tea, and when he returned to the palace there was still one minute left out of the ten.

Ashiepattle went straight to the king and said: “Here is the water;” and now he supposed he could have the princess, for surely the king would not make any more fuss about it now. But the king thought that Ashiepattle was just as black and sooty as ever, and did not like to have him for a son-in-law; so he said he had three hundred fathoms of wood with which he was going to dry corn in the bakehouse, and he wouldn’t mind Ashiepattle having his daughter if he would first sit in the bakehouse and burn all the wood; he should then have the princess, and that without fail.

“I suppose I must try,” said Ashiepattle; “but perhaps you don’t mind my taking one of my crew with me?”

“Oh, no, you can take all six,” said the king, for he thought it would be warm enough for all of them.

Ashiepattle took with him the one who had fifteen winters and seven summers in his body, and in the evening he went across to the bakehouse: but the king had piled up so much wood on the fire that you might almost have melted iron in the room. They could not get out of it, for no sooner were they inside than the king fastened the bolt and put a couple of padlocks on the door besides. Ashiepattle then said to his companion:

“You had better let out six or seven winters, so that we may get something like summer weather here.”

They were then just able to exist, but during the night it got cold again and Ashiepattle then told the man to let out a couple of summers, and so they slept far into the next day. But when they heard the king outside Ashiepattle said:

“You must let out a couple more winters, but you must manage it so that the last winter you let out strikes the king right in the face.”

He did so, and when the king opened the door, expecting to find Ashiepattle and his companion burned to cinders, he saw them huddling together and shivering with cold till their teeth chattered. The same instant Ashiepattle’s companion with the fifteen winters in his body let loose the last one right in the king’s face, which swelled up into a big chilblain.

“Can I have the princess now?” asked Ashiepattle

“Yes, take her and keep her and the kingdom into the bargain,” said the king, who dared not refuse any longer. And so the wedding took place and they feasted and made merry and fired off guns and powder.

While the people were running about searching for wadding for their guns, they took me instead, gave me some porridge in a bottle and some milk in a basket, and fired me right across here, so that I could tell you how it all happened.

THE SQUIRE’S BRIDE

By P. C. Asbjörnsen

Once upon a time there was a rich squire who owned a large farm, and had plenty of silver at the bottom of his chest and money in the bank besides; but he felt there was something wanting, for he was a widower.

One day the daughter of a neighboring farmer was working for him in the hayfield. The squire saw her and liked her very much, and as she was the child of poor parents he thought if he only hinted that he wanted her she would be ready to marry him at once.

So he told her he had been thinking of getting married again.

“Aye! one may think of many things,” said the girl, laughing slyly.

In her opinion the old fellow ought to be thinking of something that behooved him better than getting married.

“Well, you see, I thought that you should be my wife!”

“No, thank you all the same,” said she, “that’s not at all likely.”

The squire was not accustomed to be gainsaid, and the more she refused him the more determined he was to get her.

But as he made no progress in her favor he sent for her father and told him that if he could arrange the matter with his daughter he would forgive him the money he had lent him, and he would also give him the piece of land which lay close to his meadow into the bargain.

“Yes, you may be sure I’ll bring my daughter to her senses,” said the father. “She is only a child, and she doesn’t know what’s best for her.” But all his coaxing and talking did not help matters. She would not have the squire, she said, if he sat buried in gold up to his ears.

The squire waited day after day, but at last he became so angry and impatient that he told the father, if he expected him to stand by his promise, he would have to put his foot down and settle the matter now, for he would not wait any longer.

The man knew no other way out of it but to let the squire get everything ready for the wedding; and when the parson and the wedding guests had arrived the squire should send for the girl as if she were wanted for some work on the farm. When she arrived she would have to be married right away, so that she would have no time to think it over.

The squire thought this was well and good, and so he began brewing and baking and getting ready for the wedding in grand style. When the guests had arrived the squire called one of his farm lads and told him to run down to his neighbor and ask him to send him what he had promised.

“But if you are not back in a twinkling,” he said, shaking his fist at him, “I’ll—”

He did not say more, for the lad ran off as if he had been shot at.

“My master has sent me to ask for that you promised him,” said the lad, when he got to the neighbor, “but there is no time to be lost, for he is terribly busy to-day.”

“Yes, yes! Run down into the meadow and take her with you. There she goes!” answered the neighbor.

The lad ran off and when he came to the meadow he found the daughter there raking the hay.

“I am to fetch what your father has promised my master,” said the lad.

“Ah, ha!” thought she. “Is that what they are up to?”

“Ah, indeed!” she said. “I suppose it’s that little bay mare of ours. You had better go and take her. She stands there tethered on the other side of the pea field,” said the girl.

The boy jumped on the back of the bay mare and rode home at full gallop.

“Have you got her with you?” asked the squire.

“She is down at the door,” said the lad.

“Take her up to the room my mother had,” said the squire.

“But master, how can that be managed?” said the lad.

“You must just do as I tell you,” said the squire. “If you cannot manage her alone you must get the men to help you,” for he thought the girl might turn obstreperous.

When the lad saw his master’s face he knew it would be no use to gainsay him. So he went and got all the farm tenants who were there to help him. Some pulled at the head and the forelegs of the mare and others pushed from behind, and at last they got her up the stairs and into the room. There lay all the wedding finery ready.

“Now, that’s done master!” said the lad; “but it was a terrible job. It was the worst I have ever had here on the farm.

“Never mind, you shall not have done it for nothing,” said his master. “Now send the women up to dress her.”

“But I say master—!” said the lad.

“None of your talk!” said the squire. “Tell them they must dress her and mind and not forget either wreath or crown.

The lad ran into the kitchen.

“Look here, lasses,” he said; “you must go upstairs and dress up the bay mare as bride. I expect the master wants to give the guests a laugh.”

The women dressed the bay mare in everything that was there, and then the lad went and told his master that now she was ready dressed, with wreath and crown and all.

“Very well, bring her down!” said the squire. “I will receive her myself at the door,” said he.

There was a terrible clatter on the stairs; for that bride, you know, had no silken shoes on.

When the door was opened and the squire’s bride entered the parlor you can imagine there was a good deal of tittering and grinning.

And as for the squire you may he sure line had had enough of that bride, and they say he never went courting again.

THE DOLL IN THE GRASS

By P. C. Asbjörnsen

Once upon a time there was a king who had twelve sons. When they were grown up he told them they must go out into the world and find themselves wives, who must all be able to spin and weave and make a shirt in one day, else he would not have them for daughters-in-law. He gave each of his sons a horse and a new suit of armor, and so they set out in the world to look for wives.

When they had traveled a bit on the way they said they would not take Ashiepattle with them, for he was good for nothing. Ashiepattle must stop behind; there was no help for it. He did not know what he should do or which way he should turn; he became so sad that he got off the horse and sat down on the grass and began to cry.

When he had sat a while one of the tussocks among the grass began to move, and out of it came a small white figure; as it came nearer Ashiepattle saw that it was a beautiful little girl, but she was so tiny, so very, very tiny.

She went up to him and asked him if he would come below and pay a visit to the doll in the grass.

Yes, that he would; and so he did. When he came down below, the doll in the grass was sitting in a chair dressed very finely and looking still more beautiful. She asked Ashiepattle where he was going and what was his errand.

He told her they were twelve brothers, and that the king had given them each a horse and a suit of armor, and told them to go out in the world and find themselves wives, but they must all be able to spin and weave and make a shirt in a day.

“If you can do that and will become my wife, I will not travel any farther,” said Ashiepattle to the doll in the grass.

Yes, that she would, and she set to work at once to get the shirt spun, woven, and made; but it was so tiny, so very, very tiny, no bigger than—so!

Ashiepattle then returned home, taking the shirt with him; but when he brought it out he felt very shy because it was so small. But the king said he could have her for all that, and you can imagine how happy and joyful Ashiepattle became.

The road did not seem long to him as he set out to fetch his little sweetheart. When he came to the doll in the grass he wanted her to sit with him on his horse; but no, that she wouldn’t; she said she would sit and drive in a silver spoon, and she had two small while horses which would draw her. So they set out, he on his horse and she in the silver spoon; and the horses which drew her were two small white mice.

Ashiepattle always kept to one side of the road, for he was so afraid he should ride over her; she was so very, very tiny.

When they had traveled a bit on the way they came to a large lake; there Ashiepattle’s horse took fright and shied over to the other side of the road, and upset the spoon, so that the doll in the grass fell into the water. Ashiepattle became very sad, for he did not know how he should get her out again; but after a while a merman brought her up.

But now she had become just as big as any other grown-up being and was much more beautiful than she was before. So he placed her in front of him on the horse and rode home.

When Ashiepattle got there all his brothers had also returned, each with a sweetheart; but they were so ugly and ill-favored and bad-tempered that they had come to blows with their sweethearts on their way home. On their heads they had hats which were painted with tar and soot, and this had run from their hats down their faces, so that they were still uglier and more ill-favored to behold.

When the brothers saw Ashiepattle’s sweetheart they all became envious of him, but the king was so pleased with Ashiepattle and his sweetheart that he drove all the others away, and so Ashiepattle was married to the doll in the grass; and afterward they lived happy and comfortable for a long, long while; and if they are not dead, they must be still alive.

THE BEAR AND THE FOX

By P. C. Asbjörnsen

Once upon a time there was a bear, who sat on a sunny hillside taking a nap. Just then a fox came slinking by and saw him.

“Aha! have I caught you napping, grandfather? See if I don’t play you a trick this time!” said Reynard to himself.

He then found three wood mice and laid them on a stump of a tree just under the bear’s nose.

“Boo! Bruin! Peter the hunter is just behind that stump!” shouted the fox right into the bear’s ear, and then took to his heels and made off into the wood.

The bear woke at once, and when he saw the three mice he became so angry that he lifted his paw and was just going to strike them, for he thought it was they who had shouted in his ear.

But just then he saw Reynard’s tail between the bushes and he set off at such a speed that the branches crackled under him, and Bruin was soon so close upon Reynard that he caught him by the right hind leg just as be was running into a hole under a pine tree.

Reynard was now in a fix; but he was not to be outwitted, and he cried:

“Slip pine root, grip fox foot,” and so the bear let go his hold; but the fox laughed far down in the hole and said:

“I sold you that time, also, grandfather!”

“Out of sight is not out of mind!” said the bear, who was in a fine fury.

The other morning, when Bruin came trudging across the moor with a fat pig, Master Reynard was lying on a stone by the moorside.

“Good-day, grandfather!” said the fox. “What nice thing have you got there?”

“Pork,” said the bear.

“I have got something tasty as well,” said the fox.

“What’s that?” said the bear.

“It’s the biggest bees’ nest I ever found,” said Reynard.

“Ah, indeed,” said the bear, grinning, and his mouth began to water, he thought a little honey would be so nice. “Shall we change victuals?” he said.