Grimm's Household Tales

A poor woodcutter lived with his wife and three daughters in a little hut on the edge of a lonely forest. One morning, as he was about to go to work, he said to his wife, “Have our eldest daughter bring my dinner to me in the forest, or I will never get my work done. And so that she will not lose her way,” he added, “I will take a bag of millet with me and strew the seeds on the path.” When, therefore, the sun was just above the center of the forest, the girl set out on her way with a bowl of soup. But the field sparrows and wood sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up the millet long before, and the girl could not find the track. Then, trusting to chance, she went on and on until the sun sank and night began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and she began to be afraid. Then in the distance she perceived a light that glimmered between the trees. “There ought to be some people living there who can take me in for the night,” she thought, and she went up to the light. It was not long before she came to a house whose windows were all lit up. She knocked, and a rough voice from inside cried, “Come in.” The girl stepped into the dark entrance and knocked at the door of the room. “Just come in,” cried the voice. When she opened the door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting his face with both hands, and his white beard fell down over the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three animals: a hen, a rooster, and a brindled cow. The girl told the old man her story and begged for shelter for the night. The man said,

“Pretty little hen,
Pretty little rooster,
And pretty brindled cow,
What do you say to that?”

“Duks,” answered the animals, and that must have meant “We are willing,” for the old man said, “Here you will have shelter and food. Go to the fire and cook supper for us.” In the kitchen the girl found an abundance of everything. She cooked a good supper but gave no thought to the animals. She carried the full dishes to the table, sat down beside the gray-haired man, ate, and satisfied her hunger. When she had had enough, she said, “But now I am tired. Where is there a bed in which I can lie down and sleep?” The animals replied,

“You have eaten with him,
You have drunk with him,
You have had no thought for us,
So find out for yourself where you can spend the night.”

Then the old man said, “Just go upstairs, and you will find a room with two beds. Shake them up, put white linen on them, and then I, too, will come and lie down to sleep.” The girl went up, and when she had shaken up the beds and put clean sheets on them, she lay down in one of them without waiting any longer for the old man. After some time, however, the gray-haired man came, took his candle, looked at the girl, and shook his head. When he saw that she had fallen into a sound sleep, he opened a trapdoor and let her down into the cellar.

Late at night the woodcutter came home and reproached his wife for leaving him to go hungry all day. “It is not my fault,” she replied. “The girl went out with your dinner and must have gotten lost, but she is sure to come back tomorrow.” The woodcutter, however, got up before dawn to go into the forest and asked that the second daughter bring him his dinner that day. “I will take a bag of lentils,” he said. “The seeds are larger than millet; the girl will see them better and cannot lose her way.” At dinnertime, therefore, the girl carried the food out, but the lentils had disappeared. The birds of the forest had picked them up, as they had done the day before, and had left none. The girl wandered about in the forest until night, and then she too reached the old man’s house, was told to go in, and begged for food and a bed. The man with the white beard again asked the animals,

“Pretty little hen,
Pretty little rooster,
And pretty brindled cow,
What do you say to that?”

The animals again replied, “Duks,” and everything happened just as it had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank with the old man, and did not concern herself about the animals. When she inquired about her bed, they answered,

“You have eaten with him,
You have drunk with him,
You have had no thought for us,
So find out for yourself where you can spend the night.”

When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his head, and let her down into the cellar.

On the third morning the woodcutter said to his wife, “Send our youngest child out with my dinner today. She has always been good and obedient, and she will stay on the right path and not run about after every wild bumblebee, as her sisters did.” The mother did not want to do it and said, “Am I to lose my dearest child as well?”

“Have no fear,” he replied. “The girl will not go astray; she is too prudent and sensible. Besides, I will take some peas with me and strew them about. They are still larger than lentils and will show her the way.” But when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the wood pigeons had already gotten all the peas into their crops, and she did not know which way to turn. She was full of sorrow and never ceased to think how hungry her father would be and how her good mother would grieve if she did not go home. At length, when it grew dark, she saw the light and came to the house in the forest. She begged very nicely to be allowed to spend the night there, and the man with the white beard once more asked his animals,

“Pretty little hen,
Pretty little rooster,
And beautiful brindled cow,
What do you say to that?”

“Duks,” they said. Then the girl went to the stove where the animals were lying, petted the rooster and the hen, stroked their smooth feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled cow between her horns. When, in obedience to the old man’s orders, she had made ready some good soup and the bowl had been placed upon the table, she said, “Am I to eat as much as I want, and the good animals to have nothing? Outside is food in plenty. I will look after them first.” So she went and brought some barley and stewed it for the rooster and the hen, and a whole armful of sweet-smelling hay for the cow. “I hope you will like it, dear animals,” she said, “and you will have a refreshing drink in case you are thirsty.” Then she fetched in a bucketful of water, and the rooster and the hen jumped onto the edge of it and dipped their beaks in, and then held up their heads as birds do when they drink, and the brindled cow also took a hearty drink. When the animals had been fed, the girl sat down at the table beside the old man and ate what he had left. It was not long before the rooster and the hen began to thrust their heads beneath their wings, and the cow’s eyes likewise began to blink. Then the girl said, “Ought we not to go to bed?”

“Pretty little hen,
Pretty little rooster,
And pretty brindled cow,
What do you say to that?”

The animals answered, “Duks,”

“You have eaten with us,
You have drunk with us,
You have had kind thoughts for all of us,
We wish you good night.”

Then the maiden went upstairs, shook up the feather beds, and laid clean sheets on them, and when she had done so the old man came and lay down on one of the beds, and his white beard reached down to his feet. The girl lay down on the other, said her prayers, and fell asleep.

She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise in the house that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and splitting in every corner, and the doors sprang open and beat against the walls. The beams groaned as if they were being torn out of their joints, and it seemed as if the staircase were falling down. At length there was a crash as if the entire roof had fallen in. When, however, all grew quiet once more and the girl was not hurt, she stayed quietly lying where she was and fell asleep again. But when she woke up in the morning to the brilliance of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold? She was lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal splendor. On the walls golden flowers grew up on a ground of green silk; the bed was of ivory and the canopy of red velvet; and on a chair close by was a pair of shoes embroidered with pearls. The girl believed that she was in a dream, but three richly clad attendants came in and asked what orders she would like to give. “If you will go,” she replied, “I will get up at once and make ready some soup for the old man, and then I will feed the pretty little hen, the rooster, and the beautiful brindled cow.” She thought the old man was up already and looked around at his bed; he, however, was not lying in it, but a stranger was. And while she was looking at him and becoming aware that he was young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, “I am a king’s son, and I was bewitched by a wicked witch and made to live in this forest as an old gray-haired man. No one was allowed to be with me but my three attendants in the form of a rooster, a hen, and a brindled cow. The spell was not to be broken until a girl came to us whose heart was so good that she showed herself full of love, not only toward humankind but toward animals. And that you have done; through you at midnight we were set free, and the old hut in the forest was changed back again into my royal palace.” And when they had risen, the king’s son ordered the three attendants to set out and fetch the girl’s father and mother to the wedding feast. “But where are my two sisters?” the maiden inquired. “I have locked them in the cellar, and tomorrow they will be led into the forest and will live as servants to a charcoal burner until they have grown kinder and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.”