Chương Chương 98 · Stories about Snakes

. Stories about Snakes

First Story.

There was once a little child whose mother gave her every afternoon a

small bowl of milk and bread, and the child seated herself in the yard

with it. When she began to eat however, a snake came creeping out of a

crevice in the wall, dipped its little head in the dish, and ate with

her. The child had pleasure in this, and when she was sitting there

with her little dish and the snake did not come at once, she cried,

“Snake, snake, come swiftly

Hither come, thou tiny thing,

Thou shalt have thy crumbs of bread,

Thou shalt refresh thyself with milk.”

Then the snake came in haste, and enjoyed its food. Moreover it showed

gratitude, for it brought the child all kinds of pretty things from its

hidden treasures, bright stones, pearls, and golden playthings. The

snake, however, only drank the milk, and left the bread-crumbs alone.

Then one day the child took its little spoon and struck the snake

gently on its head with it, and said, “Eat the bread-crumbs as well,

little thing.” The mother, who was standing in the kitchen, heard the

child talking to someone, and when she saw that she was striking a

snake with her spoon, ran out with a log of wood, and killed the good

little creature.

From that time forth, a change came over the child. As long as the

snake had eaten with her, she had grown tall and strong, but now she

lost her pretty rosy cheeks and wasted away. It was not long before the

funeral bird began to cry in the night, and the redbreast to collect

little branches and leaves for a funeral garland, and soon afterwards

the child lay on her bier.

Second Story.

An orphan child was sitting on the town walls spinning, when she saw a

snake coming out of a hole low down in the wall. Swiftly she spread out

beside this one of the blue silk handkerchiefs which snakes have such a

strong liking for, and which are the only things they will creep on. As

soon as the snake saw it, it went back, then returned, bringing with it

a small golden crown, laid it on the handkerchief, and then went away

again. The girl took up the crown, it glittered and was of delicate

golden filagree work. It was not long before the snake came back for

the second time, but when it no longer saw the crown, it crept up to

the wall, and in its grief smote its little head against it as long as

it had strength to do so, until at last it lay there dead. If the girl

had but left the crown where it was, the snake would certainly have

brought still more of its treasures out of the hole.

Third Story.

A snake cries, “Huhu, huhu.” A child says, “Come out.” The snake comes

out, then the child inquires about her little sister: “Hast thou not

seen little Red-stockings?” The snake says, “No.” “Neither have I.”

“Then I am like you. Huhu, huhu, huhu.”

106 The Poor Miller’s Boy and the Cat

In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child,

and three apprentices served under him. As they had been with him

several years, he one day said to them, “I am old, and want to sit in

the chimney-corner, go out, and whichsoever of you brings me the best

horse home, to him will I give the mill, and in return for it he shall

take care of me till my death.” The third of the boys was, however, the

drudge, who was looked on as foolish by the others; they begrudged the

mill to him, and afterwards he would not have it. Then all three went

out together, and when they came to the village, the two said to stupid

Hans, “Thou mayst just as well stay here, as long as thou livest thou

wilt never get a horse.” Hans, however, went with them, and when it was

night they came to a cave in which they lay down to sleep. The two

sharp ones waited until Hans had fallen asleep, then they got up, and

went away leaving him where he was. And they thought they had done a

very clever thing, but it was certain to turn out ill for them. When

the sun arose, and Hans woke up, he was lying in a deep cavern. He

looked around on every side and exclaimed, “Oh, heavens, where am I?”

Then he got up and clambered out of the cave, went into the forest, and

thought, “Here I am quite alone and deserted, how shall I obtain a

horse now?” Whilst he was thus walking full of thought, he met a small

tabby-cat which said quite kindly, “Hans, where are you going?” “Alas,

thou canst not help me.” “I well know your desire,” said the cat. “You

wish to have a beautiful horse. Come with me, and be my faithful

servant for seven years long, and then I will give you one more

beautiful than any you have ever seen in your whole life.” “Well, this

is a wonderful cat!” thought Hans, “but I am determined to see if she

is telling the truth.” So she took him with her into her enchanted

castle, where there were nothing but cats who were her servants. They

leapt nimbly upstairs and downstairs, and were merry and happy. In the

evening when they sat down to dinner, three of them had to make music.

One played the bassoon, the other the fiddle, and the third put the

trumpet to his lips, and blew out his cheeks as much as he possibly

could. When they had dined, the table was carried away, and the cat

said, “Now, Hans, come and dance with me.” “No,” said he, “I won’t

dance with a pussy cat. I have never done that yet.” “Then take him to

bed,” said she to the cats. So one of them lighted him to his bed-room,

one pulled his shoes off, one his stockings, and at last one of them

blew out the candle. Next morning they returned and helped him out of

bed, one put his stockings on for him, one tied his garters, one

brought his shoes, one washed him, and one dried his face with her

tail. “That feels very soft!” said Hans. He, however, had to serve the

cat, and chop some wood every day, and to do that, he had an axe of

silver, and the wedge and saw were of silver and the mallet of copper.

So he chopped the wood small; stayed there in the house and had good

meat and drink, but never saw anyone but the tabby-cat and her

servants. Once she said to him, “Go and mow my meadow, and dry the

grass,” and gave him a scythe of silver, and a whetstone of gold, but

bade him deliver them up again carefully. So Hans went thither, and did

what he was bidden, and when he had finished the work, he carried the

scythe, whetstone, and hay to the house, and asked if it was not yet

time for her to give him his reward. “No,” said the cat, “you must

first do something more for me of the same kind. There is timber of

silver, carpenter’s axe, square, and everything that is needful, all of

silver, with these build me a small house.” Then Hans built the small

house, and said that he had now done everything, and still he had no

horse. Nevertheless the seven years had gone by with him as if they

were six months. The cat asked him if he would like to see her horses?

“Yes,” said Hans. Then she opened the door of the small house, and when

she had opened it, there stood twelve horses, such horses, so bright

and shining, that his heart rejoiced at the sight of them. And now she

gave him to eat and drink, and said, “Go home, I will not give thee thy

horse away with thee; but in three days’ time I will follow thee and

bring it.” So Hans set out, and she showed him the way to the mill. She

had, however, never once given him a new coat, and he had been obliged

to keep on his dirty old smock-frock, which he had brought with him,

and which during the seven years had everywhere become too small for

him. When he reached home, the two other apprentices were there again

as well, and each of them certainly had brought a horse with him, but

one of them was a blind one, and the other lame. They asked Hans where

his horse was. “It will follow me in three days’ time.” Then they

laughed and said, “Indeed, stupid Hans, where wilt thou get a horse?”

“It will be a fine one!” Hans went into the parlour, but the miller

said he should not sit down to table, for he was so ragged and torn,

that they would all be ashamed of him if any one came in. So they gave

him a mouthful of food outside, and at night, when they went to rest,

the two others would not let him have a bed, and at last he was forced

to creep into the goose-house, and lie down on a little hard straw. In

the morning when he awoke, the three days had passed, and a coach came

with six horses and they shone so bright that it was delightful to see

them! and a servant brought a seventh as well, which was for the poor

miller’s boy. And a magnificent princess alighted from the coach and

went into the mill, and this princess was the little tabby-cat whom

poor Hans had served for seven years. She asked the miller where the

miller’s boy and drudge was? Then the miller said, “We cannot have him

here in the mill, for he is so ragged; he is lying in the goose-house.”

Then the King’s daughter said that they were to bring him immediately.

So they brought him out, and he had to hold his little smock-frock

together to cover himself. The servants unpacked splendid garments, and

washed him and dressed him, and when that was done, no King could have

looked more handsome. Then the maiden desired to see the horses which

the other apprentices had brought home with them, and one of them was

blind and the other lame. So she ordered the servant to bring the

seventh horse, and when the miller saw it, he said that such a horse as

that had never yet entered his yard. “And that is for the third

miller’s boy,” said she. “Then he must have the mill,” said the miller,

but the King’s daughter said that the horse was there, and that he was

to keep his mill as well, and took her faithful Hans and set him in the

coach, and drove away with him. They first drove to the little house

which he had built with the silver tools, and behold it was a great

castle, and everything inside it was of silver and gold; and then she

married him, and he was rich, so rich that he had enough for all the

rest of his life. After this, let no one ever say that anyone who is

silly can never become a person of importance.