Kabanata Kabanata 168 · The Giant and the Tailor

. The Giant and the Tailor

A certain tailor who was great at boasting but ill at doing, took it

into his head to go abroad for a while, and look about the world. As

soon as he could manage it, he left his workshop, and wandered on his

way, over hill and dale, sometimes hither, sometimes thither, but ever

on and on. Once when he was out he perceived in the blue distance a

steep hill, and behind it a tower reaching to the clouds, which rose up

out of a wild dark forest. “Thunder and lightning,” cried the tailor,

“what is that?” and as he was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went

boldly towards it. But what made the tailor open his eyes and mouth

when he came near it, was to see that the tower had legs, and leapt in

one bound over the steep hill, and was now standing as an all powerful

giant before him. “What dost thou want here, thou tiny fly’s leg?”

cried the giant, with a voice as if it were thundering on every side.

The tailor whimpered, “I want just to look about and see if I can earn

a bit of bread for myself, in this forest.” “If that is what thou art

after,” said the giant, “thou mayst have a place with me.” “If it must

be, why not? What wages shall I receive?” “Thou shalt hear what wages

thou shalt have. Every year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when

it is leap-year, one more into the bargain. Does that suit thee?” “All

right,” replied the tailor, and thought, in his own mind, “a man must

cut his coat according to his cloth; I will try to get away as fast as

I can.” On this the giant said to him, “Go, little ragamuffin, and

fetch me a jug of water.” “Had I not better bring the well itself at

once, and the spring too?” asked the boaster, and went with the pitcher

to the water. “What! the well and the spring too,” growled the giant in

his beard, for he was rather clownish and stupid, and began to be

afraid. “That knave is not a fool, he has a wizard in his body. Be on

thy guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for thee.” When the tailor

had brought the water, the giant bade him go into the forest, and cut a

couple of blocks of wood and bring them back. “Why not the whole

forest, at once, with one stroke. The whole forest, young and old, with

all that is there, both rough and smooth?” asked the little tailor, and

went to cut the wood. “What! the whole forest, young and old, with all

that is there, both rough and smooth, and the well and its spring too,”

growled the credulous giant in his beard, and was still more terrified.

“The knave can do much more than bake apples, and has a wizard in his

body. Be on thy guard, old Hans, this is no serving-man for thee!” When

the tailor had brought the wood, the giant commanded him to shoot two

or three wild boars for supper. “Why not rather a thousand at one shot,

and bring them all here?” inquired the ostentatious tailor. “What!”

cried the timid giant in great terror; “Let well alone to-night, and

lie down to rest.”

The giant was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an eye all

night long for thinking what would be the best way to get rid of this

accursed sorcerer of a servant. Time brings counsel. Next morning the

giant and the tailor went to a marsh, round which stood a number of

willow-trees. Then said the giant, “Hark thee, tailor, seat thyself on

one of the willow-branches, I long of all things to see if thou art big

enough to bend it down.” All at once the tailor was sitting on it,

holding his breath, and making himself so heavy that the bough bent

down. When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it hurried him

(for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his pocket) so high into

the air that he never was seen again, and this to the great delight of

the giant. If the tailor has not fallen down again, he must be hovering

about in the air.