Household Tales, Wilhelm Grimm [good books to read for women TXT] 📗
- Author: Wilhelm Grimm
- Performer: -
Book online «Household Tales, Wilhelm Grimm [good books to read for women TXT] 📗». Author Wilhelm Grimm
When day broke, the master galloped to the castle on the stolen horse. The count had just got up, and was looking out of the window. “Good morning, Sir Count,” he cried to him, “here is the horse, which I have got safely out of the stable! Just look, how beautifully your soldiers are lying there sleeping; and if you will but go into the stable, you will see how comfortable your watchers have made it for themselves.” The count could not help laughing, then he said, “For once thou hast succeeded, but things won’t go so well the second time, and I warn thee that if thou comest before me as a thief, I will handle thee as I would a thief.” When the countess went to bed that night, she closed her hand with the wedding-ring tightly together, and the count said, “All the doors are locked and bolted, I will keep awake and wait for the thief, but if he gets in by the window, I will shoot him.” The master-thief, however, went in the dark to the gallows, cut a poor sinner who was hanging there down from the halter, and carried him on his back to the castle. Then he set a ladder up to the bedroom, put the dead body on his shoulders, and began to climb up. When he had got so high that the head of the dead man showed at the window, the count, who was watching in his bed, fired a pistol at him, and immediately the master let the poor sinner fall down, and hid himself in one corner. The night was sufficiently lighted by the moon, for the master to see distinctly how the count got out of the window on to the ladder, came down, carried the dead body into the garden, and began to dig a hole in which to lay it. “Now,” thought the thief, “the favourable moment has come,” stole nimbly out of his corner, and climbed up the ladder straight into the countess’s bedroom. “Dear wife,”
he began in the count’s voice, “the thief is dead, but, after all, he is my godson, and has been more of a scape-grace than a villain. I will not put him to open shame; besides, I am sorry for the parents. I will bury him myself before daybreak, in the garden that the thing may not be known, so give me the sheet, I will wrap up the body in it, and bury him as a dog burries things by scratching.” The countess gave him the sheet. “I tell you what,” continued the thief, “I have a fit of magnanimity on me, give me the ring too,–the unhappy man risked his life for it, so he may take it with him into his grave.” She would not gainsay the count, and although she did it unwillingly she drew the ring from her finger, and gave it to him. The thief made off with both these things, and reached home safely before the count in the garden had finished his work of burying.
What a long face the count did pull when the master came next morning, and brought him the sheet and the ring. “Art thou a wizard?” said he, “Who has fetched thee out of the grave in which I myself laid thee, and brought thee to life again?” “You did not bury me,” said the thief, “but the poor sinner on the gallows,” and he told him exactly how everything had happened, and the count was forced to own to him that he was a clever, crafty thief. “But thou hast not reached the end yet,”
he added, “thou hast still to perform the third task, and if thou dost not succeed in that, all is of no use.” The master smiled and returned no answer. When night had fallen he went with a long sack on his back, a bundle under his arms, and a lantern in his hand to the village-church. In the sack he had some crabs, and in the bundle short wax-candles. He sat down in the churchyard, took out a crab, and stuck a wax-candle on his back. Then he lighted the little light, put the crab on the ground, and let it creep about. He took a second out of the sack, and treated it in the same way, and so on until the last was out of the sack. Hereupon he put on a long black garment that looked like a monk’s cowl, and stuck a gray beard on his chin. When at last he was quite unrecognizable, he took the sack in which the crabs had been, went into the church, and ascended the pulpit. The clock in the tower was just striking twelve; when the last stroke had sounded, he cried with a loud and piercing voice, “Hearken, sinful men, the end of all things has come! The last day is at hand! Hearken! Hearken! Whosoever wishes to go to heaven with me must creep into the sack. I am Peter, who opens and shuts the gate of heaven. Behold how the dead outside there in the churchyard, are wandering about collecting their bones. Come, come, and creep into the sack; the world is about to be destroyed!” The cry echoed through the whole village. The parson and clerk who lived nearest to the church, heard it first, and when they saw the lights which were moving about the churchyard, they observed that something unusual was going on, and went into the church. They listened to the sermon for a while, and then the clerk nudged the parson and said, “It would not be amiss if we were to use the opportunity together, and before the dawning of the last day, find an easy way of getting to heaven.” “To tell the truth,” answered the parson, “that is what I myself have been thinking, so if you are inclined, we will set out on our way.” “Yes,” answered the clerk, “but you, the pastor, have the precedence, I will follow.” So the parson went first, and ascended the pulpit where the master opened his sack. The parson crept in first, and then the clerk. The master immediately tied up the sack tightly, seized it by the middle, and dragged it down the pulpit-steps, and whenever the heads of the two fools bumped against the steps, he cried, “We are going over the mountains.” Then he drew them through the village in the same way, and when they were passing through puddles, he cried, “Now we are going through wet clouds.” And when at last he was dragging them up the steps of the castle, he cried, “Now we are on the steps of heaven, and will soon be in the outer court.” When he had got to the top, he pushed the sack into the pigeon-house, and when the pigeons fluttered about, he said, “Hark how glad the angels are, and how they are flapping their wings!” Then he bolted the door upon them, and went away.
Next morning he went to the count, and told him that he had performed the third task also, and had carried the parson and clerk out of the church. “Where hast thou left them?” asked the lord. “They are lying upstairs in a sack in the pigeon-house, and imagine that they are in heaven.” The count went up himself, and convinced himself that the master had told the truth. When he had delivered the parson and clerk from their captivity, he said, “Thou art an arch-thief, and hast won thy wager. For once thou escapest with a whole skin, but see that thou leavest my land, for if ever thou settest foot on it again, thou may’st count on thy elevation to the gallows.” The arch-thief took leave of his parents, once more went forth into the wide world, and no one has ever heard of him since.
194 The Ear of Corn
In former times, when God himself still walked the earth, the fruitfulness of the soil was much greater than it is now; then the ears of corn did not bear fifty or sixty, but four or five hundred-fold. Then the corn grew from the bottom to the very top o f the stalk, and according to the length of the stalk was the length of the ear. Men however are so made, that when they are too well off they no longer value the blessings which come from God, but grow indifferent and careless. One day a woman was passing by a cornfield when her little child, who was running beside her, fell into a puddle, and dirtied her frock. On this the mother tore up a handful of the beautiful ears of corn, and cleaned the frock with them.
When the Lord, who just then came by, saw that, he was angry, and said, “Henceforth shall the stalks of corn bear no more ears; men are no longer worthy of heavenly gifts.” The by-standers who heard this, were terrified, and fell on their knees and praye d that he would still leave something on the stalks, even if the people were undeserving of it, for the sake of the innocent birds which would otherwise have to starve. The Lord, who foresaw their suffering, had pity on them, and granted the request. So the ears were left as they now grow.
195 The Grave-Mound
A rich farmer was one day standing in his yard inspecting his fields and gardens. The corn was growing up vigorously and the fruit-trees were heavily laden with fruit. The grain of the year before still lay in such immense heaps on the floors that the rafters could hardly bear it. Then he went into the stable, where were well-fed oxen, fat cows, and horses bright as looking-glass. At length he went back into his sitting-room, and cast a glance at the iron chest in which his money lay.
Whilst he was thus standing surveying his riches, all at once there was a loud knock close by him. The knock was not at the door of his room, but at the door of his heart. It opened, and he heard a voice which said to him, “Hast thou done good to thy family with it? Hast thou considered the necessities of the poor? Hast thou shared thy bread with the hungry? Hast thou been contented with what thou hast, or didst thou always desire to have more?” The heart was not slow in answering, “I have been hard and pitiless, and have never shown any kindness to my own family. If a beggar came, I turned away my eyes from him. I have not troubled myself about God, but have thought only of increasing my wealth. If everything which the sky covers had been mine own, I should still not have had enough.”
When he was aware of this answer he was greatly alarmed, his knees began
Comments (0)