Grimm's Household Tales

In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child, and three apprentices served under him. Because they had been with him for several years, he said to them one day, “I am old and want to sit in the chimney corner. Go out, and I will give the mill to whichever of you brings me the best horse home. In return, he will take care of me until my death.” The third of the boys, however, was the drudge, whom the others looked on as foolish. They begrudged him the mill, and afterward he did not want it. Then all three went out together, and when they came to the village, the two said to stupid Hans, “You may just as well stay here. As long as you live, you will 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. They thought they had done a very clever thing, but it was certain to turn out badly for them. When the sun rose 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, clambered out of the cave, went into the forest, and thought, “Here I am, quite alone and deserted. How will I obtain a horse now?” While he was walking along, full of thought, he met a small tabby cat that said quite kindly, “Hans, where are you going?” “Alas, you cannot help me.” “I know your desire well,” said the cat. “You wish to have a beautiful horse. Come with me and be my faithful servant for seven whole years, 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 only cats, who were her servants. They leaped 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, another 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,” he said, “I won’t dance with a pussycat. I have never done that before.” “Then take him to bed,” she said to the cats. So one of them lit his way to his bedroom, 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 a silver ax; the wedge and saw were silver, and the mallet was copper. So he chopped the wood small, stayed there in the house, and had good food and drink, but he 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 she gave him a silver scythe and a gold whetstone but told him to return them carefully. So Hans went there and did what he was told, and when he had finished the work, he carried the scythe, whetstone, and hay to the house and asked whether it was not yet time for her to give him his reward. “No,” said the cat, “first you must do something more for me of the same kind. There is silver timber, a carpenter’s ax, a square, and everything that is needed, 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 for him as if they were six months. The cat asked him whether 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 food and drink and said, “Go home. I will not give you your horse to take with you, but in three days’ time I will follow you 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 wearing his dirty old smock frock, which he had brought with him and which during the seven years had become too small for him everywhere. When he reached home, the other two apprentices were back there as well, and each of them had certainly brought a horse with him, but one of the horses was blind 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 will you get a horse?” “It will be a fine one!” Hans went into the parlor, but the miller said he should not sit down at the table, because he was so ragged and torn that they would all be ashamed of him if anyone came in. So they gave him a mouthful of food outside, and at night, when they went to rest, the other two 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. They shone so brightly that it was delightful to see them! And a servant brought a seventh as well, which was for the poor miller’s boy. A magnificent princess stepped down 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, because 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, washed him, and dressed him, and when that was done, no king could have looked more handsome. Then the maiden wished to see the horses that 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,” she said. “Then he must have the mill,” said the miller. But the king’s daughter said that the horse was there and that the miller was to keep his mill as well, and she took her faithful Hans, set him in the coach, and drove away with him. They drove first to the little house that he had built with the silver tools, and it was now a great castle, and everything inside it was of silver and gold. Then she married him, and he was rich, so rich that he had enough for the rest of his life. After this, let no one ever say that anyone who is silly can never become a person of importance.