RETOLD FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM

Once there was a great King who had a daughter that was very beautiful, but so haughty and vain she thought none of the Princes who came to ask her in marriage were good enough for her, and she made sport of them.

One day the King, her father, held a great feast, and invited all the Princes at once. They sat in a row, according to their rank—Kings and Princes and Dukes and Earls. Then the Princess came in, and passed down the line by them all; but she had something disagreeable to say to every one. The first was too fat. “He’s as round as a tub!” she said. The next one was too tall. “What a flag-pole!” she declared. The next was too short. “What a dumpling!” was her comment. The fourth was too pale, and so she called him “Wall-face.” The fifth was too red, and was named “Coxcomb.”

Thus she had some joke upon every one, but she laughed more than all at a good King who was there. “Look at him,” said she; “his beard is like an old mop. I call him ‘Grisly-Beard.’” So after that the good King got the nickname of “Grisly-Beard.”

Now the old King, her father, was very angry when he saw how badly his daughter behaved, and how she treated all his friends. So he said that, willing or unwilling, she should marry the first beggar that came to the door! All the Kings and Nobles heard him say this.

Two days afterward a traveling singer came by. When he began to sing and beg alms the King heard him and said: “Let him come in.” So they brought in a dirty-looking fellow, and he sang before the King and the Princess. When he begged a gift the King said: “You have sung so well that I will give you my daughter for your wife.”

The Princess begged for mercy, but her father said: “I shall keep my word.” So the parson was sent for, and she was married to the singer. Then the King said: “You must get ready; you can’t stay here any longer; you must travel on with your husband.”

Then the beggar departed and took his wife with him.

Soon they came to a great wood. “Whose wood is this?” she asked.

“It belongs to King Grisly-Beard,” said he. “If you had taken him this would have been yours.”

“Ah, unlucky girl that I am! I wish I had taken King Grisly-Beard.”

Next they came to some fine meadows. “Whose are these beautiful green meadows?” she asked.

“They belong to King Grisly-Beard. If you had taken him they would have been yours.”

“Ah, unlucky girl that I am! I wish indeed I had married King Grisly-Beard.”

Then they came to a great city. “Whose is this noble city?” she asked.

“It belongs to King Grisly-Beard,” he said again. “If you had taken him this would have been yours, also.”

“Ah, miserable girl that I am,” she sighed. “Why did I not marry King Grisly-Beard?”

“That is no business of mine,” said the singer.

At last they came to a small cottage. “To whom does this little hovel belong?” she asked.

“This is yours and mine,” said the beggar. “This is where we are to live.”

“Where are your servants?” she asked, falteringly.

“We cannot afford servants,” said he. “You will have to do whatever is to be done. Now, make the fire and put on water and cook my supper.”

The Princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the beggar was forced to help her. Early the next morning he called her to clean the house.

Thus they lived for three days, and when they had eaten up all there was in the cottage, the man said: “Wife, we can’t go on like this, spending money and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.” So he went out and cut willows, and brought them home and taught her how to weave. But it made her fingers very sore.

“I see that this will never do,” said her husband; “try and spin. Perhaps you will do that better.”

So she sat down and tried to spin, and her husband tried to teach her; but the threads cut her tender fingers till the blood ran.

“I am afraid you are good for nothing,” said the man. “What a bargain I have got. However, I will try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.”

“Alas!” sighed she, “when I stand in the market, if any of my father’s court pass by and see me there, how they will laugh at me!”

But the beggar said she must work, if she did not wish to die of hunger. At first, the trade went very well, for many people, seeing such a beautiful woman, bought her wares and paid their money without thinking of taking away the goods. Then her husband bought a fresh lot of ware, and she sat down one day with it in the corner of the market; but a drunken soldier came by and rode his horse against her stall, and broke her goods into a thousand pieces. So she began to weep: “Ah, what will become of me?” said she. “What will my husband say?” So she ran home and told him all.

“How silly you were,” he said, “to put a china-stall in the corner of the market where everybody passes; but let us have no more crying. I see you are not fit for this sort of work; so I will go to the King’s palace and ask if they do not want a kitchen-maid.”

So the next day the Princess became a kitchen-maid, and helped the cook do all the dirtiest work.

She had not been there long before she heard that the eldest son of the King of that country was going to be married. She looked out of one of the windows and saw all the ladies and gentlemen of the court in fine array. Then she thought with a sore heart of her own sad fate. Her husband, it is true, had been in a way kind to her; but she realized now the pride and folly which had brought her so low.

All of a sudden, as she was going out to take some food to her husband in their humble cottage, the King’s son in golden clothes broke through the crowd; and when he saw a beautiful woman at the kitchen door, he took her by the hand and said that she should be his partner in the dance.

Then she trembled for fear, for when she looked up she saw that it was King Grisly-Beard himself who was making fun of her. However, he led her into the ballroom, and as he did so the cover of her basket came off, so that the fragments of food in it fell to the floor. Then everybody laughed and jeered at her, and she wished herself a thousand feet deep in the earth.

She sprang to the door to run away; but King Grisly-Beard overtook her, brought her back, and threw his golden cloak over her shoulders.

“Do not be afraid, my dear,” said he; “I am the beggar who has lived with you in the hut. I brought you there because I loved you. I am also the soldier who upset your stall. I have done all this to cure you of your pride. Now it is all over; you have learned wisdom, and it is time for us to hold our marriage feast.”

Then the maids came and brought her the most beautiful robes, and her father and his whole court came in and wished her much happiness. The feast was grand, and all were merry; and I wish you and I had been of the party.

The Country Rat
and the Town Rat

A Country Rat invited a Town Rat, an intimate friend, to pay him a visit, and partake of his country fare. As they were on the bare plough-lands, eating their wheat-stalks and roots pulled up from the hedge row, the Town Rat said to his friend, “You live here the life of the ants, while in my house is the horn of plenty. I am surrounded with every luxury, and if you will come with me, as I much wish you would, you shall have an ample share of my dainties.” The Country Rat was easily persuaded, and returned to town with his friend. On his arrival, the Town Rat placed before him bread, barley, beans, dried figs, honey, raisins, and last of all, brought a dainty piece of cheese from a basket. The Country Rat being much delighted at the sight of such good cheer, expressed his satisfaction in warm terms, and lamented his own hard fate. Just as they were beginning to eat, some one opened the door, and they both ran off squeaking as fast as they could to a hole so narrow that two could only find room in it by squeezing. They had scarcely again begun their repast when someone else entered to take something out of a cupboard, on which the two Rats, more frightened than before, ran away and hid themselves. At last the Country Rat, almost famished, thus addressed his friend: “Although you have prepared for me so dainty a feast, I must leave you to enjoy it by yourself. It is surrounded by too many dangers to please me. I prefer my bare plough-lands and roots from the hedge row, so that I only can live in safety and without fear.”

Peace is more desirable than wealth