The Juniper Tree and Other Tales (6 page)

O
NCE UPON A TIME
there was a widow who had two daughters. One of them was beautiful and industrious, but the other was ugly and lazy. However, she loved the ugly, lazy girl, who was her own daughter, much better than the other girl, who was her stepdaughter. She made the beautiful girl do all the work about the house, and treated her as a kitchen drudge. The poor girl also had to sit by a well on the main road every day, spinning so much yarn that blood dripped from her fingers.

One day her bobbin was so bloodstained that she bent over the well to wash the blood off it, but the bobbin slipped out of her hand and fell into the water. She wept bitterly, ran back to her stepmother and told her about the accident. But the hard-hearted woman scolded her angrily and said, “You dropped the bobbin into the well, so you can go and fetch it out again.”

The girl went back to the well. She didn’t know what to do, and in her fear she jumped into the well, hoping to find the bobbin. But she lost consciousness, and when she woke up and came back to her senses, she was in a beautiful meadow where thousands of flowers grew, and
the sun was shining. She walked on over the meadow, and came to an oven full of bread. “Oh, take me out,” called the bread, “take me out, or I shall burn. I’m well baked and ready.” So the girl went over to the oven, picked up the bread shovel and took out all the loaves one by one. Then she went on and came to a tree heavy with apples. “Oh, shake me,” called the tree, “shake me, we apples are all ripe.” So she shook the tree to make the apples fall off, as if it were raining apples, and when she had gathered them all into a heap she went on again.

At last she came to a little house, and an old woman looked out of it. She had big teeth, and the girl felt afraid of her. She was going to walk on, but the old woman called after her, “What are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me, and if you do the work about the house for me properly then you will be rewarded. You must just take care to make my feather bed well and shake it hard every morning, to make the feathers fly, because that’s when snow falls in the world. I am Mother Holle.”

When the old woman spoke to her so kindly, the girl plucked up her courage, agreed and entered into Mother Holle’s service. She did everything to the old lady’s satisfaction, and always shook her feather bed well, making the feathers fly around in the air like snowflakes. In return she lived well with the old woman, who never said a cross word to her, and there
was boiled meat and roast meat to eat every day. But when she had been with Mother Holle for a while, she began to feel sad, and she herself didn’t know at first what the matter was. At last she realised that it was homesickness, and although she was a thousand times better off here than at home, yet she longed to go back there. In the end she said to the old woman, “I’m grieving for my home, and although I am so well off down here, I can’t stay any longer. I must go up to my own family again.”

“I’m glad to hear you say you would like to go home,” said Mother Holle, “and because you have served me so faithfully I will take you myself.” She took the girl’s hand and led her to a great gate. The gate was opened, and as the girl stood in the gateway a great shower of gold rained down, and the gold clung to her, covering her all over. “That’s your reward for working so hard,” said Mother Holle, and she also gave her the bobbin that had fallen into the well to take home. Thereupon the gate was closed, and the girl found herself in the world above, not far from her mother’s house. When she stepped into the yard, the rooster was sitting on the well, and he crowed:

Then the girl went into the house and, seeing all the gold clinging to her, her stepmother and stepsister welcomed her back.

The girl told them everything that had happened to her, and when her stepmother heard how she had come by such riches, she wanted her own daughter, the ugly, lazy girl, to have the same good fortune. So the lazy girl had to sit by the well spinning, and she pricked her fingers and stuck her hand in a hedge of thorns to get the bobbin bloody. Then she threw the bobbin into the well and jumped straight in after it.

Like her stepsister, she came to the beautiful meadow and walked the same way. When she came to the oven, the bread was calling once again, “Oh, take me out, take me out, or I shall burn. I’m well baked and ready.” But the lazy girl replied, “Do you think I want to get myself all dirty?” and went on walking. Soon she came to the apple tree. “Oh, shake me,” called the tree, “shake me, we apples are all ripe.” But she replied, “What an idea! One of the apples might fall on my head,” and again she went on walking.

When she came to Mother Holle’s house she wasn’t afraid, because she had already heard about the old woman’s big teeth, and she took service with her at once. On the first day she made an effort, worked hard and did as Mother Holle told her, because she was thinking of all the gold she would be given. On the second day,
however, she neglected her work, and on the third day she wouldn’t even get up in the morning. Nor did she make Mother Holle’s feather bed properly, or shake it to make the feathers fly.

Mother Holle soon got tired of this, and told her that it was time for her to leave. The lazy girl was pleased to hear that, and thought that now she would get the shower of gold. But Mother Holle led her to the gate, and when she was standing in the gateway no gold but a cauldron full of pitch was tipped over her. “That’s the reward for your services,” said Mother Holle, and she shut the door.

So the lazy girl went home, but she was covered with pitch, and when the cockerel on the well saw her he crowed:

The pitch stuck fast to her, and she couldn’t get it off again all the rest of her days.

T
HERE WAS A MAN
who had seven sons and wanted a daughter, but he had no little girl yet. At last his wife told him they were expecting another child, and when the baby was born it was indeed a girl. The man and his wife were delighted, but the baby was so small and weak that they thought she had better be baptised at once. The father sent one of the boys to hurry off to the well for water, the other six went too, and what with each of them wanting to be the first to draw water they lost their hold on the jug and dropped it down the well. There they stood, and they didn’t know what to do next, for none of them dared to go home.

They didn’t come back, and they didn’t come back, and their father began to grow impatient. “I expect they’ve gone off to play some game or other and forgotten,” he said. “Those thoughtless, wicked boys!” And in his grief, fearing that the baby girl might die unbaptised, he cried, “I wish those boys were all turned into ravens!”

As he spoke, he heard the beating of wings in the air above his head, and when he looked up he saw seven ravens black as coal flying away.

The parents couldn’t undo the father’s curse now, but sad as they were over the loss of their seven sons, their dear little daughter was some comfort to them. She was soon strong and well, and she grew prettier every day. For a long time she didn’t know that she was not an only child, for her parents were careful never to mention what had happened in front of her. One day, however, she happened to hear people talking about her, saying yes, she was a lovely girl, but she was to blame for her seven brothers’ misfortune.

That made her sad, and she went to her father and mother and asked if she really had brothers, and where they had gone.

Her parents couldn’t keep the secret any longer now, but they told her it was Heaven’s doing, and her birth had been only the innocent cause of it.

However, the girl fretted about her brothers every day, and decided that she must break the spell on them. She couldn’t rest, and one day she set off in secret and went out into the wide world to look for her brothers, determined to set them free at any price. She took nothing with her but a little ring as a memento of her parents, a loaf of bread to satisfy her hunger, a pitcher of water to quench her thirst and a little chair to sit on when she felt tired.

So she went on and on, far, far away, until she reached the world’s end. She came to the sun, but the sun was hot and fierce, and ate up little children.

She ran away in a hurry and went to see the moon, but the moon was icy cold, and cruel and wicked too. “I smell human flesh!” cried the moon, on
seeing
the child. So she ran away in haste and went to see the stars.

The stars were kind and friendly, each of them sitting on its own little chair. The morning star, however, stood up, gave the girl a chicken bone and said, “You’ll never open the glass mountain without this bone, and your brothers are inside the glass mountain.”

So the girl took the chicken bone, wrapped it
carefully
in a piece of cloth and went on again. She went on and on until she came to the glass mountain. The gate was locked, and the girl was going to take out the chicken bone, but when she undid the cloth she found it empty. She had lost the gift given to her by the kind stars.

What was she to do now? She was determined to save her brothers, but she had no key to open the glass mountain. So the good little sister took a knife and cut off one of her little fingers, and when she put it in the lock the gate opened at once.

Once she was inside the glass mountain, she saw a dwarf coming to meet her. “My dear, what are you looking for?” asked the dwarf.

“I’m looking for my brothers, the seven ravens,” she said.

“Well,” said the dwarf, “my masters the ravens are not at home, but if you’d like to wait until they come back, then please step this way.”

Then the dwarf carried in the ravens’ dinner on seven little dishes, and their drink in seven little goblets, and their sister ate a scrap from every dish and drank a sip from every goblet, but she dropped the ring she had brought from home in the last little goblet.

All of a sudden there was a whirring in the air and a flapping of wings, and the dwarf said, “Here come my masters, the ravens, flying home.”

In came the ravens, hungry and thirsty, and they went to eat and drink from their little dishes and goblets. Then each of them said, one after another, “Who’s been eating out of my dish? Who’s been drinking out of my goblet? Some human mouth was here.”

And as the seventh raven reached the bottom of his goblet the ring rolled out. When he saw it, he recognized it as a ring that had belonged to his mother and father.

“Oh, if only our little sister were here,” he said, “then the spell on us would be broken!”

The girl, who was hiding behind the door listening, heard his wish and came out. Then all the ravens returned to human form. The brothers and their sister hugged and kissed each other, and then they went happily home.

O
NCE UPON A TIME
there was a sweet little girl. Everyone who saw her loved her, and her
grandmother
loved her most of all. She never tired of giving the child presents. One day she gave her a little cape with a hood made of red velvet, and because it suited her so well and she wore it all the time, everyone called her Little Red Cape.

Well, one day her mother told the child, “Look, Little Red Cape, here’s a piece of cake and a bottle of wine, and I want you to take them out into the woods to your grandmother. She’s feeling weak and poorly, and they’ll do her good. So set off before the sun gets hot, and when you’re out in the forest keep to the path like a good girl and don’t leave it, or you might fall and break the bottle, and then there’d be nothing for Grandmother. And when you get inside Grandmother’s house remember to say good morning, and don’t go poking about in all the corners first.”

“I’ll be good,” said Little Red Cape, shaking hands with her mother to show that it was a promise. Now her grandmother lived in the forest, half an hour’s walk from the village, and as Little Red Cape walked in among the trees
the wolf came to meet her. But Little Red Cape didn’t know what a wicked wolf he was, so she wasn’t afraid of him.

“Good day to you, Little Red Cape,” said the wolf.

“Thank you kindly, wolf,” she said.

“Where are you off to so early in the morning, Little Red Cape?”

“I’m going to see Grandmother.”

“What’s that you’re carrying under your apron?”

“Some cake and wine—it was baking day yesterday, so I’m taking poor sick Grandmother something to do her good and make her stronger.”

“And where does your grandmother live, Little Red Cape?”

“Oh, her house is another good quarter of an hour’s walk away in the forest, under the three big oak trees and quite close to the hazelnut hedges. I’m sure you know the place,” said Little Red Cape.

But the wicked wolf was thinking: This tender little girl is a nice plump morsel. She’ll taste even better than the old woman. If I go about this cunningly I can snap up the pair of them.

So he trotted on beside Little Red Cape for a while, and then he said, “Oh, see the beautiful flowers growing around the path, Little Red Cape! Why not stop to take a look at them? And I don’t believe you’ve even heard the dear little birds who are singing so prettily! You just trudge along as if you were going to school, but it’s such fun out here in the forest.

Little Red Cape opened her eyes to look around, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing back and forth among the trees, and all the beautiful flowers in the forest, she thought: Grandmother would like me to take her a bunch of fresh flowers, and it’s still so early that I’ll get to her house in plenty of time.

Then she strayed off among the trees looking for flowers, and as soon as she had picked one she thought she saw an even prettier flower further away, so she ran to pick that one too, and all the time she strayed further and further into the forest.

Meanwhile the wolf went straight to Grandmother’s house and knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” asked the old woman.

“It’s Little Red Cape bringing you some cake and wine. Open the door!”

“Just press down the latch,” called Grandmother. “I’m feeling too poorly to get out of bed.”

So the wolf pressed down the latch, the door opened, and without a word he went straight over to Grandmother’s bed and swallowed her up. Then he dressed in her clothes, put her cap on his head, got into her bed and pulled the curtains around it.

Little Red Cape, however, had been running about picking flowers, and when she had such an armful that she couldn’t carry any more she remembered Grandmother, and set off for her house. She was surprised to find the
door open, and when she went in she felt so strange that she thought: Dear me, how scared I feel, and I usually love visiting Grandmother!

“Good morning,” she called out, but there was no reply.

Then she went over to the bed and pulled back the curtains. There lay Grandmother with her cap pulled well down over her face, looking very odd.

“Oh, Grandmother, what big ears you have!” said the little girl.

“All the better to hear you with.”

“Oh, Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see you with.”

“Oh, Grandmother, what big hands you have!”

“All the better to grab you with!”

“But oh, Grandmother, what a terribly big mouth you have!”

“All the better to EAT you with!”

And as soon as the wolf had said that, he jumped out of bed and swallowed poor Little Red Cape all up.

When the wolf had satisfied his hunger he lay down in the bed again, fell asleep and began snoring as loud as thunder. The huntsman happened to be passing the house, and he said to himself: How loud the old lady is snoring! I’d better go in and make sure there’s nothing wrong with her.

He walked into the house, and when he went over to the bed he saw the wolf lying there.

“So here you are, you wicked old sinner!” he said. “I’ve been looking for you a long time.”

He was about to fire his gun, but then it struck him that the wolf could have swallowed Grandmother whole, and perhaps she might still be saved. So he didn’t fire the gun, but took a pair of scissors and began cutting open the sleeping wolf ’s belly. When he had snipped a couple of times he saw the bright red of the little cape, and after another few snips the little girl jumped out, crying, “Oh, how scared I was! It was so dark inside the wolf!” Then her old grandmother came out too, still alive but very short of breath.

Little Red Cape quickly collected some large stones and put them in the wolf ’s belly. When he woke up he tried to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed at once and fell down dead.

So all three of them were happy. The huntsman skinned the wolf and went home with the skin, while Grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine that Little Red Cape had brought her, and she soon felt better. As for Little Red Cape, she thought: I’ll never again in my life stray away from the path through the forest when Mother tells me not to.

There’s another story too, a tale of how Little Red Cape was taking her old grandmother some cake another day, and another wolf spoke to her and tried to make her stray away from the path. But Little Red Cape was on her guard, and went straight to Grandmother’s house. She told
Grandmother how she had met the wolf, and he had wished her good day, but there was such a wicked look in his eyes.

“If we hadn’t been there in the middle of the path,” she said, “I’m sure he would have eaten me.”

“Come along in,” said Grandmother, “and we’ll bolt the door to keep him out.”

Soon the wolf knocked at the door, calling, “Open up, Grandmother, it’s Little Red Cape with some cake for you.”

But they kept perfectly quiet and didn’t open the door, so the grey wolf prowled around the house several times, and finally jumped up on the roof. He was planning to wait until Little Red Cape started for home in the evening, and then he was going to slink after her and gobble her up in the dark. However, Grandmother guessed his plan. There was a big stone trough outside the house, and she told the little girl, “Take the bucket, Little Red Cape. I was boiling sausages yesterday, and I want you to carry out the water I boiled them in and pour it into the trough.”

Little Red Cape carried out the sausage water until the big, big trough was full to the brim. The smell of sausages rose to the wolf ’s nostrils, and he sniffed, and peered down, and at last he craned over so far that he lost his balance and began to slide. He slid right off the roof, straight into the big trough, and there he drowned.

As for Little Red Cape, she went happily home, and no one ever tried to harm her again.