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Popular Tales from the Norse

S >> Sir George Webbe Dasent >> Popular Tales from the Norse




'And, besides', he said, 'you may as well put on a padlock, for if he
only once gets in, he'll turn Hell topsy-turvy!'

'Well!' said the Smith to himself, when he saw them busy bolting up
the gates, 'there's no lodging to be got here, that's plain; so I may
as well try my luck in the kingdom of Heaven'; and with that he
turned round and went back till he reached the cross-roads, and then
he went along the path the tailor had taken. And now, as he was cross
at having gone backwards and forwards so far for no good, he strode
along with all his might, and reached the gate of Heaven just as St
Peter was opening it a very little, just enough to let the half-
starved tailor slip in. The Smith was still six or seven strides off
the gate, so he thought to himself, 'Now there's no time to be lost';
and, grasping his sledge-hammer, he hurled it into the opening of the
door just as the tailor slunk in; and if the Smith didn't get in
then, when the door was ajar, why I don't know what has become of
him.




THE TWO STEP-SISTERS

Once on a time there was a couple, and each of them had a daughter by
a former marriage. The woman's daughter was dull and lazy, and could
never turn her hand to anything, and the man's daughter was brisk and
ready; but somehow or other she could never do anything to her
stepmother's liking, and both the woman and her daughter would have
been glad to be rid of her.

So it fell one day the two girls were to go out and spin by the side
of the well, and the woman's daughter had flax to spin, but the man's
daughter got nothing to spin but bristles.

'I don't know how it is', said the woman's daughter, 'you're always
so quick and sharp, but still I'm not afraid to spin a match with
you.'

Well, they agreed that she whose thread first snapped, should go down
the well. So they span away; but just as they were hard at it, the
man's daughter's thread broke, and she had to go down the well. But
when she got to the bottom she saw far and wide around her a fair
green mead, and she hadn't hurt herself at all.

So she walked on a bit, till she came to a hedge which she had to
cross.

'Ah! don't tread hard on me, pray don't, and I'll help you another
time, that I will', said the Hedge.

Then the lassie made herself as light as she could, and trode so
carefully she scarce touched a twig.

So she went on a bit further, till she came to a brindled cow, which
walked there with a milking-pail on her horns. 'Twas a large pretty
cow, and her udder was so full and round.

'Ah! be so good as to milk me, pray', said the Cow; 'I'm so full of
milk. Drink as much as you please, and throw the rest over my hoofs,
and see if I don't help you some day.'

So the man's daughter did as the cow begged. As soon as she touched
the teats, the milk spouted out into the pail. Then she drank till
her thirst was slaked; and the rest she threw over the cow's hoofs,
and the milking-pail she hung on her horns again.

So when she had gone a bit further, a big wether met her, which had
such thick long wool, it hung down and draggled after him on the
ground, and on one of his horns hung a great pair of shears.

'Ah, please clip off my wool', said the Sheep, 'for here I go about
with all this wool, and catch up everything I meet, and besides, it's
so warm, I'm almost choked. Take as much of the fleece as you please,
and twist the rest round my neck, and see if I don't help you some
day.'

Yes! she was willing enough, and the sheep lay down of himself on her
lap, and kept quite still, and she clipped him so neatly, there
wasn't a scratch on his skin. Then she took as much of the wool as
she chose, and the rest she twisted round the neck of the sheep.

A little further on, she came to an apple tree, which was loaded with
apples; all its branches were bowed to the ground, and leaning
against the stem was a slender pole.

'Ah! do be so good as to pluck my apples off me', said the Tree, 'so
that my branches may straighten themselves again, for it's bad work
to stand so crooked; but when you beat them down, don't strike me too
hard. Then eat as many as you please, lay the rest round my root, and
see if I don't help you some day or other.'

Yes, she plucked all she could reach with her hands, and then she
took the pole and knocked down the rest, and afterwards she ate her
fill, and the rest she laid neatly round the root.

So she walked on a long, long way, and then she came to a great farm-
house, where an old hag of the Trolls lived with her daughter. There
she turned in to ask if she could get a place.

'Oh!' said the old hag; 'it's no use your trying. We've had ever so
many maids, but none of them was worth her salt.'

But she begged so prettily that they would just take her on trial,
that at last they let her stay. So the old hag gave her a sieve, and
bade her go and fetch water in it. She thought it strange to fetch
water in a sieve, but still she went, and when she came to the well,
the little birds began to sing,

Daub in clay,
Stuff in straw!
Daub in clay,
Stuff in straw.

Yes, she did so, and found she could carry water in a sieve well
enough; but when she got home with the water, and the old witch saw
the sieve, she cried out:

'THIS YOU HAVEN'T SUCKED OUT OF YOUR OWN BREAST.'

So the old witch said, now she might go into the byre to pitch out
dung and milk kine; but when she got there, she found a pitchfork so
long and heavy, she couldn't stir it, much less work with it. She
didn't know at all what to do, or what to make of it; but the little
birds sang again that she should take the broom-stick and toss out a
little with that, and all the rest of the dung would fly after it. So
she did that, and as soon as ever she began with the broom-stick, the
byre was as clean as if it had been swept and washed.

Now she had to milk the kine, but they were so restless that they
kicked and frisked; there was no getting near them to milk them.

But the little birds sang outside:

A little drop, a tiny sup,
For the little birds to drink it up.

Yes, she did that; she just milked a tiny drop, 'twas as much as she
could, for the little birds outside; and then all the cows stood
still and let her milk them. They neither kicked nor frisked; they
didn't even lift a leg.

So when the old witch saw her coming in with the milk, she cried out:

'THIS YOU HAVEN'T SUCKED OUT OF YOUR OWN BREAST. BUT NOW JUST TAKE
THIS BLACK WOOL AND WASH IT WHITE.'

This the lassie was at her wits' end to know how to do, for she had
never seen or heard of any one who could wash black wool white. Still
she said nothing, but took the wool and went down with it to the
well. There the little birds sang again and told her to take the wool
and dip it into the great butt that stood there; and she did so, and
out it came as white as snow.

'Well! I never!' said the old witch, when she came in with the wool,
'it's no good keeping you. You can do everything, and at last you'll
be the plague of my life. We'd best part, so take your wages and be
off.'

Then the old hag drew out three caskets, one red, one green, and one
blue, and of these the lassie was to choose one as wages for her
service. Now she didn't know at all which to choose, but the little
birds sang:

Don't take the red, don't take the green,
But take the blue, where may be seen
Three little crosses all in a row;
We saw the marks, and so we know.

So she took the blue casket, as the birds sang.

'Bad luck to you, then', said the old witch; 'see if I don't make you
pay for this!'

So when the man's daughter was just setting off, the old witch shot a
red-hot bar of iron after her, but she sprang behind the door and hid
herself, so that it missed her, for her friends, the little birds,
had told her beforehand how to behave. Then she walked on and on as
fast as ever she could; but when she got to the apple tree, she heard
an awful clatter behind her on the road, and that was the old witch
and her daughter coming after her.

So the lassie was so frightened and scared, she didn't know what to
do.

'Come hither to me, lassie, do you hear', said the Apple tree, 'I'll
help you; get under my branches and hide, for if they catch you,
they'll tear you to death, and take the casket from you.'

Yes! she did so, and she had hardly hidden herself before up came the
old witch and her daughter.

'Have you seen any lassie pass this way, you apple tree', said the
old hag.

'Yes, yes', said the Apple tree; 'one ran by here an hour ago; but
now she's got so far ahead, you'll never catch her up.'

So the old witch turned back and went home again. Then the lassie
walked on a bit, but when she came just about where the sheep was,
she heard an awful clatter beginning on the road behind her, and she
didn't know what to do, she was so scared and frightened; for she
knew well enough it was the old witch, who had thought better of it.

'Come hither to me, lassie', said the Wether, 'and I'll help you.
Hide yourself under my fleece, and then they'll not see you; else
they'll take away the casket, and tear you to death.'

Just then up came the old witch, tearing along.

'Have you seen any lassie pass here, you sheep?' she cried to the
wether.

'Oh yes', said the Wether, 'I saw one an hour ago, but she ran so
fast, you'll never catch her.'

So the old witch turned round and went home.

But when the lassie had come to where she met the cow, she heard
another awful clatter behind her.

'Come hither to me, lassie', said the Cow, 'and I'll help you to hide
yourself under my udder, else the old hag will come and take away
your casket, and tear you to death.'

True enough, it wasn't long before she came up.

'Have you seen any lassie pass here, you cow?' said the old hag.

'Yes, I saw one an hour ago', said the Cow, 'but she's far away now,
for she ran so fast I don't think you'll ever catch her up!'

So the old hag turned round, and went back home again.

When the lassie had walked a long, long way farther on, and was not
far from the hedge, she heard again that awful clatter on the road
behind her, and she got scared and frightened, for she knew well
enough it was the old hag and her daughter, who had changed their
minds.

'Come hither to me, lassie', said the Hedge, 'and I'll help you.
Creep under my twigs, so that they can't see you; else they'll take
the casket from you, and tear you to death.'

Yes! she made all the haste she could to get under the twigs of the
hedge.

'Have you seen any lassie pass this way, you hedge?' said the old hag
to the hedge.

'No, I haven't seen any lassie', answered the Hedge, and was as
smooth-tongued as if he had got melted butter in his mouth; but all
the while he spread himself out, and made himself so big and tall,
one had to think twice before crossing him. And so the old witch had
no help for it but to turn round and go home again.

So when the man's daughter got home, her step-mother and her step-
sister were more spiteful against her than ever; for now she was much
neater, and so smart, it was a joy to look at her. Still she couldn't
get leave to live with them, but they drove her out into a pigsty.
That was to be her house. So she scrubbed it out so neat and clean,
and then she opened her casket, just to see what she had got for her
wages. But as soon as ever she unlocked it, she saw inside so much
gold and silver, and lovely things, which came streaming out till all
the walls were hung with them, and at last the pigsty was far grander
than the grandest king's palace. And when the step-mother and her
daughter came to see this, they almost jumped out of their skin, and
began to ask what kind of a place she had down there?

'Oh', said the lassie, 'can't you see, when I have got such good
wages. 'Twas such a family, and such a mistress to serve, you
couldn't find their like anywhere.'

Yes! the woman's daughter made up her mind to go out to serve too,
that she might get just such another gold casket. So they sat down to
spin again, and now the woman's daughter was to spin bristles, and
the man's daughter flax, and she whose thread first snapped, was to
go down the well. It wasn't long, as you may fancy, before the
woman's daughter's thread snapped, and so they threw her down the
well.

So the same thing happened. She fell to the bottom, but met with no
harm, and found herself on a lovely green meadow. When she had walked
a bit she came to the hedge. 'Don't tread hard on me, pray, lassie,
and I'll help you again', said the Hedge.

'Oh!' said she, 'what should I care for a bundle of twigs?' and
tramped and stamped over the hedge till it cracked and groaned again.

A little farther on she came to the cow, which walked about ready to
burst for want of milking.

'Be so good as to milk me, lassie', said the Cow, 'and I'll help you
again. Drink as much as you please, but throw the rest over my
hoofs.'

Yes! she did that; she milked the cow, and drank till she could drink
no more; but when she left off, there was none left to throw over the
cow's hoofs, and as for the pail, she tossed it down the hill and
walked on.

When she had gone a bit further, she came to the sheep which walked
along with his wool dragging after him.

'Oh, be so good as to clip me, lassie', said the Sheep, 'and I'll
serve you again. Take as much of the wool as you will, but twist the
rest round my neck.'

Well! she did that; but she went so carelessly to work, that she cut
great pieces out of the poor sheep, and as for the wool, she carried
it all away with her.

A little while after she came to the apple tree, which stood there
quite crooked with fruit again.

'Be so good as to pluck the apples off me, that my limbs may grow
straight, for it's weary work to stand all awry', said the Apple
tree. 'But please take care not to beat me too hard. Eat as many as
you will, but lay the rest neatly round my root, and I'll help you
again.'

Well, she plucked those nearest to her, and thrashed down those she
couldn't reach with the pole, but she didn't care how she did it, and
broke off and tore down great boughs, and ate till she was as full as
full could be, and then she threw down the rest under the tree.

So when she had gone a good bit further, she came to the farm where
the old witch lived. There she asked for a place, but the old hag
said she wouldn't have any more maids, for they were either worth
nothing, or were too clever, and cheated her out of her goods. But
the woman's daughter was not to be put off, she _would_ have a
place, so the old witch said she'd give her a trial, if she was fit
for anything.

The first thing she had to do was to fetch water in a sieve. Well,
off she went to the well, and drew water in a sieve, but as fast as
she got it in it ran out again. So the little birds sung:

Daub in clay,
Put in straw!
Daub in clay,
Put in straw!

But she didn't care to listen to the birds' song, and pelted them
with clay, till they flew off far away. And so she had to go home
with the empty sieve, and got well scolded by the old witch.

Then she was to go into the byre to clean it, and milk the kine. But
she was too good for such dirty work, she thought. Still, she went
out into the byre, but when she got there, she couldn't get on at all
with the pitchfork, it was so big. The birds said the same to her as
they had said to her step-sister, and told her to take the
broomstick, and toss out a little dung, and then all the rest would
fly after it; but all she did with the broomstick was to throw it at
the birds. When she came to milk, the kine were so unruly, they
kicked and pushed, and every time she got a little milk in the pail,
over they kicked it. Then the birds sang again:

A little drop and a tiny sup
For the little birds to drink it up.

But she beat and banged the cows about, and threw and pelted at the
birds everything she could lay hold of, and made such a to do, 'twas
awful to see. So she didn't make much either of her pitching, or
milking, and when she came indoors she got blows as well as hard
words from the old witch, who sent her off to wash the black wool
white; but that, too, she did no better.

Then the old witch thought this really too bad, so she set out the
three caskets, one red, one green, and one blue, and said she'd no
longer any need of her services, for she wasn't worth keeping, but
for wages she should have leave to choose whichever casket she
pleased.

Then sung the little birds:

Don't take the red, don't take the green,
But choose the blue, where may be seen
Three little crosses all in a row;
We saw the marks, and so we know.

She didn't care a pin for what the birds sang, but took the red,
which caught her eye most. And so she set out on her road home, and
she went along quietly and easily enough; there was no one who came
after _her_.

So when she got home, her mother was ready to jump with joy, and the
two went at once into the ingle, and put the casket up there, for
they made up their minds there could be nothing in it but pure silver
and gold, and they thought to have all the walls and roof gilded like
the pigsty. But lo! when they opened the casket there came tumbling
out nothing but toads, and frogs, and snakes; and worse than that,
whenever the woman's daughter opened her mouth, out popped a toad or
a snake, and all the vermin one ever thought of, so that at last
there was no living in the house with her.

That was all the wages _she_ got for going out to service with
the old witch.




BUTTERCUP

Once on a time there was an old wife who sat and baked. Now, you must
know that this old wife had a little son, who was so plump and fat,
and so fond of good things, that they called him Buttercup; she had a
dog, too, whose name was Goldtooth, and as she was baking, all at
once Goldtooth began to bark.

'Run out, Buttercup, there's a dear!' said the old wife, 'and see
what Goldtooth is barking at.'

So the boy ran out, and came back crying out:

'Oh, Heaven help us! here comes a great big witch, with her head
under her arm, and a bag at her back.'

'Jump under the kneading-trough and hide yourself', said his mother.

So in came the old hag!

'Good day', said she!

'God bless you!' said Buttercup's mother.

'Isn't your Buttercup at home to-day?' asked the hag.

'No, that he isn't. He's out in the wood with his father, shooting
ptarmigan.'

'Plague take it', said the hag, 'for I had such a nice little silver
knife I wanted to give him.'

'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup under the kneading-trough, and
out he came.

'I'm so old, and stiff in the back', said the hag, 'you must creep
into the bag and fetch it out for yourself.'

But when Buttercup was well into the bag, the hag threw it over her
back and strode off, and when they had gone a good bit of the way,
the old hag got tired, and asked:

'How far is it off to Snoring?'

'Half a mile', answered Buttercup.

So the hag put down the sack on the road, and went aside by herself
into the wood, and lay down to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work
and cut a hole in the sack with his knife; then he crept out and put
a great root of a fir-tree into the sack, and ran home to his mother.

When the hag got home and saw what there was in the sack, you may
fancy she was in a fine rage.

Next day the old wife sat and baked again, and her dog began to bark
just as he did the day before.

'Run out, Buttercup, my boy', said she, 'and see what Goldtooth is
barking at.'

'Well, I never!' cried Buttercup, as soon as he got out; 'if there
isn't that ugly old beast coming again with her head under her arm,
and a great sack at her back.'

'Under the kneading-trough with you and hide', said his mother.

'Good day!' said the hag, 'is your Buttercup at home to-day?'

'I'm sorry to say he isn't', said his mother; 'he's out in the wood
with his father, shooting ptarmigan.'

'What a bore', said the hag; 'here I have a beautiful little silver
spoon I want to give him.'

'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup, and crept out.

'I'm so stiff in the back', said the old witch, 'you must creep into
the sack and fetch it out for yourself.'

So when Buttercup was well into the sack, the hag swung it over her
shoulders and set off home as fast as her legs could carry her. But
when they had gone a good bit, she grew weary, and asked:

'How far is it off to Snoring?'

'A mile and a half', answered Buttercup.

So the hag set down the sack, and went aside into the wood to sleep a
bit, but while she slept, Buttercup made a hole in the sack and got
out, and put a great stone into it. Now, when the old witch got home,
she made a great fire on the hearth, and put a big pot on it, and got
everything ready to boil Buttercup; but when she took the sack, and
thought she was going to turn out Buttercup into the pot, down
plumped the stone and made a hole in the bottom of the pot, so that
the water ran out and quenched the fire. Then the old hag was in a
dreadful rage, and said, 'If he makes himself ever so heavy next
time, he shan't take me in again.' The third day everything went just
as it had gone twice before; Goldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup's
mother said to him:

'Do run out and see what our dog is barking at.'

So out he went, but he soon came back crying out:

'Heaven save us! Here comes the old hag again with her head under her
arm, and a sack at her back.'

'Jump under the kneading-trough and hide', said his mother.

'Good day!' said the hag, as she came in at the door; 'is your
Buttercup at home to-day?'

'You're very kind to ask after him', said his mother; 'but he's out
in the wood with his father, shooting ptarmigan.'

'What a bore now', said the old hag; 'here have I got such a
beautiful little silver fork for him.'

'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup, as he came out from under the
kneading-trough.

'I'm so stiff in the back', said the hag, 'you must creep into the
sack and fetch it out for yourself.'

But when Buttercup was well inside the sack, the old hag swung it
across her shoulders, and set off as fast as she could. This time she
did not turn aside to sleep by the way, but went straight home with
Buttercup in the sack, and when she reached her house it was Sunday.

So the old hag said to her daughter:

'Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and boil him nicely till I
come back, for I'm off to church to bid my guests to dinner.'

So, when all in the house were gone to church the daughter was to
take Buttercup and kill him, but then she didn't know how to set
about it at all.

'Stop a bit', said Buttercup; 'I'll soon show you how to do it; just
lay your head on the chopping-block, and you'll soon see.'

So the poor silly thing laid her head down, and Buttercup took an axe
and chopped her head off, just as if she had been a chicken. Then he
laid her head in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and
boiled it so nicely; and when he had done that, he climbed up on the
roof, and dragged up with him the fir-tree root and the stone, and
put the one over the door, and the other at the top of the chimney.

So when the household came back from church, and saw the head on the
bed, they thought it was the daughter who lay there asleep; and then
they thought they would just taste the broth.

Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,

said the old hag.

Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,

said Buttercup down the chimney, but no one heeded him. So the old
hag's husband, who was every bit as bad as she, took the spoon to
have a taste.

Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,

said he.

Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,

said Buttercup down the chimney pipe.

Then they all began to wonder who it could be that chattered so, and
ran out to see. But when they came out at the door, Buttercup threw
down on them the fir-tree root and the stone, and broke all their
heads to bits. After that he took all the gold and silver that lay in
the house, and went home to his mother, and became a rich man.




TAMING THE SHREW

Once on a time there was a king, and he had a daughter who was such a
scold, and whose tongue went so fast, there was no stopping it. So he
gave out that the man who could stop her tongue should have the
Princess to wife, and half his kingdom into the bargain. Now, three
brothers, who heard this, made up their minds to go and try their
luck; and first of all the two elder went, for they thought they were
the cleverest; but they couldn't cope with her at all, and got well
thrashed besides.

Then Boots, the youngest, set off, and when he had gone a little way
he found an ozier band lying on the road, and he picked it up. When
he had gone a little farther he found a piece of a broken plate, and
he picked that up too. A little farther on he found a dead magpie,
and a little farther on still, a crooked ram's horn; so he went on a
bit and found the fellow to the horn; and at last, just as he was
crossing the fields by the king's palace, where they were pitching
out dung, he found a worn-out shoe-sole. All these things he took
with him into the palace, and went before the Princess.

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