HOP-o’-my-Thumb was a tiny little fellow about as tall as your thumb.

He and his mother lived in a little hut made of dried leaves.

The little fellow was very fond of pancakes, and on Christmas Eve he begged his mother to make a dozen.

The latter replied, “Oh, Hop-o’-my-Thumb, my son, I have no butter, wood, or milk, and we are too poor to buy such things.”

Hop-o’-my-Thumb was very sad and sat down on a stool by the fire, while his mother went to fetch water from the stream.

Suddenly he heard some one call him, and looking up he espied a little lady standing at his elbow.

At first he was too much astonished to speak, but after a few seconds he blurted out, “Who are you, little lady?” She replied, “Hop-o’-my-Thumb, I am your fairy godmother, and because you are sad, and your mother is so poor, for this day I grant you the strength to do anything you may wish.” So saying, she vanished.

At first Hop-o’-my-Thumb thought he had been dreaming, and in order to determine whether his fairy godmother had really paid him a visit, he decided to put her words to the test. He seized his cap and ran to the miller’s.

“Miller,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, “my mother would so like to make pancakes on Christmas Eve, but we have no flour. Won’t you give us a little?”

“Well, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the miller, “if you can carry this flour-bin away you can have it.”

“Do you mean that I can have whatever I can carry?” asked Hop-o’-my-Thumb.

The miller nodded his assent, and Hop-o’-my-Thumb crawled under the mill and carried it and the entire contents home.

Afterwards he went to the butter merchant. “Boss,” he said, “my mother would so like to make pancakes, but she has not a scrap of butter.”

“Oh, all right, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the boss, “if you can carry this keg it is yours.”

“Ah! thank you,” replied Hop-o’-my-Thumb. In a second he was under the keg, which moved off as if it had two legs.

From thence he went to a wealthy farmer who had been lopping his trees the day before.

“Farmer,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, “can I have a little bundle of wood, my mother wants to make pancakes.”

“Oh, it is you, little Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the farmer. “You can have the whole stack if you can carry it.”

“I shall be ever grateful,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, and sliding under the stack he carried it home.

They now only lacked milk. Hop-o’-my-Thumb went to the milkman, and making a like request was given permission to carry away a whole can.

II

When the pancakes had been fried, and mother and son had enjoyed themselves to the full, the farmer who had given them

the milk came to ask Hop-o’-my-Thumb’s mother if her son could take his cows to graze the next day.

Next morning Hop-o’-my-Thumb went off to the field, taking a large pancake with him. On the way he came to a stream which was too wide for him to jump.

Fortunately some ducks were swimming about. Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who was a sharp little fellow, threw them some crumbs of pancake, which they swallowed greedily.

In recognition of his kindness the largest duck took him on his back and swam towards the opposite bank of the stream. In midstream he let poor little Hop-o’-my-Thumb fall into the water. However, after giving the ducks a few more crumbs he was landed safely on the other side on the back of another duck.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb, tired by his walk and wet through, lay down in the grass to rest. Presently an ant ran over the back of his hand. This so annoyed Hop-o’-my-Thumb that he caught it and killed it.

No sooner had he done so than he heard some one calling him. He recognized the voice of his fairy godmother, and looking up saw her in the grass.

This time she looked angrily at him. “Oh, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” she said, “I am much disappointed in you. Up till now I have protected you because you are such a little thing, but after your cruelty to the poor little ant I withdraw my protection, and for one day you must suffer as do other little things.” She then disappeared into the ground.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb was very ashamed of himself, and, feeling very miserable, fell asleep.

Soon after a cow which was grazing in the field came up and swallowed the little fellow.

In the evening when the animals were driven into the shed, and the milkmaid waited to milk the greedy cow, she heard some one singing:

The maid was much frightened and ran to tell the farmer. The latter came to listen and he heard the same thing.

“I bet you ten to one it is Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the farmer. “There is only one thing to be done; we must slaughter the cow in order to rescue him.”

While the animal was being cut up, a poor woman passed and begged the farmer to give her a small piece of meat.

As luck would have it she received the very piece in which Hop-o’-my-Thumb was embedded. She put her present into her basket and went her way. Suddenly Hop-o’-my-Thumb began to sing:

“Lord have mercy, this place is haunted,” cried the poor woman, and, flinging away the bag, she ran for her life.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb was greatly pleased and crawled out of the piece of meat.

At that moment he saw a soldier who had had too much to drink staggering along, so he quickly hid himself in a mole-hole. The soldier fell down on the hole and went to sleep.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb pulled his knife out of his pocket and stuck the point into the soldier’s leg. The latter bounded on to his feet, stamped savagely on the hole, and returned home.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb was now a prisoner; the soldier had stamped the ground so hard that it was impossible to get out. He heard people coming down the road, and on overhearing their conversation, concluded they were robbers. He cried out, “Captain, if you will let me out of this hole, I will follow you and be your faithful servant.”

“What is this whispering I hear?” said the captain.

Every one listened attentively, and finally they were able to catch what little Hop-o’-my-Thumb was saying. They scraped the earth away, and Hop-o’-my-Thumb appeared. He was at once enrolled as a member of the band.

The same night the robbers went to a provision shop. Hop-o’-my-Thumb was pushed through the ventilator, and handed a number of cheeses through this opening. He then went to the cellar where the eggs were stored, but he made such a noise that the servant jumped out of bed to see what was happening. Quick as lightning, Hop-o’-my-Thumb crept under an egg. The servant was about to crush the egg with his foot, when the clock struck midnight. Hop-o’-my-Thumb felt himself lifted into the air. He was drawn out through the cellar window, and presently found himself at the door of his mother’s cottage. He knew that his fairy godmother had saved him, and from that day forward he never did anything to forfeit her protection.