Grimm's Household Tales

One summer’s morning a little tailor was sitting on his table by the window. He was in good spirits and sewed with all his might. Then a peasant woman came down the street crying, “Good jams, cheap! Good jams, cheap!” This rang pleasantly in the tailor’s ears. He stretched his delicate head out of the window and called, “Come up here, dear woman; here you will get rid of your goods.” The woman came up the three steps to the tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all of the pots for him. He inspected every one of them, lifted them up, put his nose to them, and at length said, “The jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me out four ounces, dear woman. If it comes to a quarter of a pound, that is of no consequence.” The woman, who had hoped to make a good sale, gave him what he wanted, but went away quite angry and grumbling. “Now, may God bless this jam for my use,” cried the little tailor, “and give me health and strength.” Then he brought the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself a piece right across the loaf, and spread the jam over it. “This won’t taste bitter,” he said, “but I will just finish the jacket before I take a bite.” He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy made bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam rose to the wall, where the flies were sitting in great numbers, so that they were attracted and descended on it in swarms. “Hey! Who invited you?” said the little tailor, and drove the uninvited guests away. The flies, however, who understood no German, would not be turned away but came back again in ever-growing groups. The little tailor at last lost all patience. He got a bit of cloth from the hole under his worktable, and saying, “Wait, and I will give it to you,” he struck at them mercilessly. When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him no fewer than seven, dead and with their legs stretched out. “Are you that sort of fellow?” he said, and could not help admiring his own bravery. “The whole town shall know of this!” And the little tailor hurried to cut himself a belt, stitched it, and embroidered on it in large letters, “Seven at one stroke!” “What, the town!” he continued. “The whole world shall hear of it!” And his heart wagged with joy like a lamb’s tail. The tailor put on the belt and resolved to go out into the world, because he thought his workshop was too small for his valor. Before he went away, he looked around the house to see if there was anything he could take with him; however, he found nothing but an old cheese, and that he put in his pocket. In front of the door he noticed a bird that had caught itself in the thicket. It had to go into his pocket with the cheese. Now he took to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, he felt no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and when he had reached the highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking about him quite comfortably. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said, “Good day, comrade, so you are sitting there overlooking the wide world! I am just on my way there, and I want to try my luck. Do you feel like going with me?” The giant looked contemptuously at the tailor and said, “You ragamuffin! You miserable creature!”

“Oh, indeed?” answered the little tailor, and he unbuttoned his coat and showed the giant the belt. “There you may read what kind of man I am!” The giant read, “Seven at one stroke,” and thought that they had been men whom the tailor had killed, and he began to feel a little respect for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to test him first, and he took a stone in his hand and squeezed it so that water dropped out of it. “Do the same,” said the giant, “if you have the strength.” “Is that all?” said the tailor. “That is child’s play for us!” And he put his hand into his pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until the liquid ran out of it. “Truly,” he said, “that was a little better, wasn’t it?” The giant did not know what to say and could not believe it of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high that the eye could scarcely follow it. “Now, little mite of a man, do the same.” “Well thrown,” said the tailor, “but after all, the stone came down to earth again. I will throw you one that will never come back at all.” And he put his hand into his pocket, took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The bird, delighted with its liberty, rose, flew away, and did not come back. “How does that shot please you, comrade?” asked the tailor. “You certainly can throw,” said the giant, “but now we will see if you are able to carry anything properly.” He took the little tailor to a mighty oak tree that lay there felled on the ground and said, “If you are strong enough, help me carry the tree out of the forest.” “Gladly,” answered the little man. “You take the trunk on your shoulders, and I will lift the branches and twigs; after all, they are the heaviest.” The giant took the trunk on his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the giant, who could not look around, had to carry away the whole tree and the little tailor into the bargain. Behind him, the tailor was quite merry and happy and whistled the song “Three tailors rode forth from the gate,” as if carrying the tree were child’s play. After the giant had dragged the heavy burden part of the way, he could go no farther and cried, “Listen, I shall have to let the tree fall!” The tailor sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with both arms as if he had been carrying it, and said to the giant, “You are such a great fellow, and yet you cannot even carry the tree!”

They went on together, and as they passed a cherry tree, the giant took hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it down, gave it into the tailor’s hand, and told him to eat. But the little tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it go, it sprang back again, and the tailor was swept into the air with it. When he had fallen down again without injury, the giant said, “What is this? Do you not have strength enough to hold the weak twig?” “There is no lack of strength,” answered the little tailor. “Do you think that could be anything to a man who has struck down seven at one blow? I leaped over the tree because the huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. Jump as I did, if you can.” The giant made the attempt but could not get over the tree and remained hanging in the branches, so that in this, too, the tailor kept the upper hand.

The giant said, “If you are such a valiant fellow, come with me into our cavern and spend the night with us.” The little tailor was willing and followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were sitting there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep in his hand and was eating it. The little tailor looked around and thought, “It is much more spacious here than in my workshop.” The giant showed him a bed and told him to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was too big for the little tailor; he did not lie down in it but crept into a corner. When it was midnight and the giant thought that the little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great iron bar, and cut through the bed with one blow, and he thought he had given the grasshopper his finishing stroke. With the earliest dawn the giants went into the forest and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when all at once he walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The giants were terrified; they were afraid that he would strike them all dead, and they ran away in a great hurry.

The little tailor went onward, always following his own pointed nose. After he had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a royal palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell asleep. While he lay there, the people came and inspected him on all sides and read on his belt, “Seven at one stroke.” “Ah,” they said, “what is the great warrior doing here in the midst of peace? He must be a mighty lord.” They went and announced him to the King and gave it as their opinion that if war should break out, this would be an important and useful man who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The advice pleased the King, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor to offer him military service when he awoke. The ambassador remained standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and opened his eyes, and then conveyed this proposal to him. “For this very reason I have come here,” the tailor replied. “I am ready to enter the King’s service.” He was therefore honorably received, and a special dwelling was assigned to him.

The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor and wished him a thousand miles away. “What is to be the end of this?” they said among themselves. “If we quarrel with him and he strikes about him, seven of us will fall at every blow; not one of us can stand against him.” They therefore came to a decision, went together to the King, and begged for their dismissal. “We are not prepared,” they said, “to stay with a man who kills seven at one stroke.” The King was sorry that for the sake of one man he should lose all his faithful servants. He wished that he had never set eyes on the tailor and would willingly have been rid of him again. But he did not dare to dismiss him, for he feared that the tailor would strike him and all his people dead and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about it for a long time and at last found good advice. He sent to the little tailor and had him informed that, as he was such a great warrior, the King had one request to make of him. In a forest of his country lived two giants who caused great mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging, and burning, and no one could approach them without putting himself in danger of death. If the tailor conquered and killed these two giants, the King would give him his only daughter as his wife and half of his kingdom as a dowry; in addition, one hundred horsemen would go with him to assist him. “That would indeed be a fine thing for a man like me!” thought the little tailor. “One is not offered a beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one’s life!” “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I will soon subdue the giants, and I do not need the help of the hundred horsemen to do it; he who can hit seven with one blow has no need to be afraid of two.”

The little tailor set out, and the hundred horsemen followed him. When he came to the edge of the forest, he said to his followers, “Just stay and wait here; I alone will soon finish off the giants.” Then he bounded into the forest and looked about right and left. After a while he spotted both giants. They lay sleeping under a tree and snored so that the branches waved up and down. The little tailor, not idle, gathered two pocketfuls of stones and climbed up the tree with them. When he was halfway up, he slid down along a branch until he sat just above the sleepers, and then he let one stone after another fall on the chest of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt nothing, but at last he woke, pushed his comrade, and said, “Why are you hitting me?” “You must be dreaming,” said the other. “I am not hitting you.” They lay down to sleep again, and then the tailor threw a stone down on the second giant. “What is the meaning of this?” cried the second. “Why are you pelting me?” “I am not pelting you,” answered the first, growling. They argued about it for a time, but as they were weary, they let the matter rest, and their eyes closed once more. The little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest stone, and threw it with all his might onto the chest of the first giant. “That is too bad!” he cried, and sprang up like a madman and pushed his companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid him back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore up trees and beat each other so long that at last they both fell down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leaped down. “It is a lucky thing,” he said, “that they did not tear up the tree on which I was sitting, or I would have had to spring onto another like a squirrel; but we tailors are nimble.” He drew out his sword, gave each of them a couple of thrusts in the chest, and then went out to the horsemen and said, “The work is done; I have given both of them their finishing stroke, but it was hard work! In their desperate need they tore up trees and defended themselves with them, but all that is to no purpose when a man like me comes along, who can kill seven at one blow.” “But are you not wounded?” asked the horsemen. “You need not concern yourselves about that,” answered the tailor. “They have not bent a single hair of mine.” The horsemen would not believe him and rode into the forest; there they found the giants lying in their blood, and all around lay the torn-up trees.

The little tailor demanded the promised reward from the King; the King, however, regretted his promise and again thought about how he could get rid of the hero. “Before you receive my daughter and half of my kingdom,” he said to him, “you must perform one more heroic deed. In the forest roams a unicorn that does great harm, and you must catch it first.” “I fear one unicorn even less than two giants. Seven at one blow—that is my kind of affair.” He took a rope and an axe with him, went out into the forest, and again told those who were sent with him to wait outside. He had to search for a long time. The unicorn soon came toward him and rushed directly at the tailor, as if it would spear him on its horn without more ceremony. “Easy, easy; it can’t be done as quickly as that,” he said, and stood still and waited until the animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The unicorn ran against the tree with all its strength and stuck its horn so fast in the trunk that it did not have strength enough to pull it out again, and thus it was caught. “Now I have caught the bird,” said the tailor. He came out from behind the tree, put the rope around its neck, and then with his axe cut the horn out of the tree, and when all was ready, he led the beast away and took it to the King.

The King still would not give him the promised reward and made a third demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch a wild boar that did great damage in the forest, and the huntsmen would give him their help. “Willingly,” said the tailor, “that is child’s play!” He did not take the huntsmen with him into the forest, and they were well pleased that he did not, for the wild boar had received them several times in such a manner that they had no wish to lie in wait for him. When the boar saw the tailor, it charged at him with foaming mouth and sharpened tusks and was about to throw him to the ground, but the agile hero sprang into a chapel that was nearby, up to the window at once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran in after him, but the tailor ran around outside and shut the door behind it, and then the raging beast, which was much too heavy and awkward to leap out of the window, was caught. The little tailor called the huntsmen there so that they might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however, went to the King, who was now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep his promise and gave him his daughter and half of his kingdom. If he had known that it was no warlike hero but a little tailor who was standing before him, it would have hurt him even more than it did. The wedding was held with great magnificence and little joy, and out of a tailor a king was made.

After some time the young Queen heard her husband say in his dreams at night, “Boy, make me the doublet, and patch the pantaloons, or else I will rap the yardstick over your ears.” Then she discovered in what state of life the young lord had been born, and next morning she complained of her wrongs to her father and begged him to help her get rid of her husband, who was nothing but a tailor. The King comforted her and said, “Leave your bedroom door open tonight, and my servants will stand outside. When he has fallen asleep, they will go in, bind him, and take him on board a ship that will carry him into the wide world.” The woman was satisfied with this, but the King’s armor-bearer, who had heard everything, was friendly with the young lord and informed him of the whole plot. “I will put a stop to that business,” said the little tailor. At night he went to bed with his wife at the usual time, and when she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door, and then lay down again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to be asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, “Boy, make me the doublet and patch the pantaloons for me, or I will rap the yardstick over your ears. I struck seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I brought away a unicorn and caught a wild boar, and am I to fear those who are standing outside the room?” When these men heard the tailor speaking like this, they were overcome by a great dread and ran as if the Wild Huntsman were behind them, and none of them would venture anything further against him. So the little tailor was a king and remained one to the end of his life.