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Grimms' Fairy Tales
The
Wishing Table, the Gold Ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack
There was once upon a time a tailor who had
three sons, and only one goat. But as the goat supported
the whole of them with her milk, she was obliged to have
good food, and to be taken every day to pasture. The sons,
therefore, did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to
the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found,
and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was
time to go home he asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?"
The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and took hold
of the cord round her neck, led her into the stable and
tied her up securely. "Well," said the old tailor,
"has the goat had as much food as she ought?"
"Oh," answered the son, "she has eaten so
much, not a leaf more she'll touch." But the father
wished to satisfy himself, and went down to the stable,
stroked the dear animal and asked, "Goat, art thou
satisfied?" The goat answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"What do I hear?" cried the tailor, and ran upstairs
and said to the youth, "Hollo, thou liar: thou saidest
the goat had had enough, and hast let her hunger!"
and in his anger he took the yard-measure from the wall,
and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked
out for a place in the fence of the garden, where nothing
but good herbs grew, and the goat cleared them all off.
At night when he wanted to go home, he asked, "Goat,
art thou satisfied?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her
home, and tied her up in the stable. "Well," said
the old tailor, "has the goat had as much food as she
ought?" "Oh," answered the son, "she
has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch." The
tailor would not rely on this, but went down to the stable
and said, "Goat, hast thou had enough?" The goat
answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"The godless wretch!" cried the tailor, "to
let such a good animal hunger," and he ran up and drove
the youth out of doors with the yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do the
thing well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves,
and let the goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted
to go home, he asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?"
The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her
into the stable, and tied her up. "Well," said
the old tailor, "has the goat had a proper amount of
food?" "She has eaten so much, not a leaf more
she'll touch." The tailor did not trust to that, but
went down and asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?"
The wicked beast answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
"Oh, the brood of liars!" cried the tailor, "each
as wicked and forgetful of his duty as the other! Ye shall
no longer make a fool of me," and quite beside himself
with anger, he ran upstairs and belabored the poor young
fellow so vigorously with the yard-measure that he sprang
out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning
he went down into the stable, caressed the goat and said,
"Come, my dear little animal, I will take thee to feed
myself." He took her by the rope and conducted her
to green hedges, and amongst milfoil, and whatever else
goats like to eat. "There thou mayest for once eat
to thy heart's content," said he to her, and let her
browse till evening. Then he asked, "Goat, art thou
satisfied?" She replied,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the tailor, and led her
into the stable, and tied her fast. When he was going away,
he turned round again and said, "Well, art thou satisfied
for once?" But the goat did not behave the better to
him, and cried,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly
that he had driven away his three sons without cause. "Wait,
thou ungrateful creature," cried he, "it is not
enough to drive thee forth, I will mark thee so that thou
wilt no more dare to show thyself amongst honest tailors."
In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his razor, lathered
the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm of
his hand. And as the yard-measure would have been too good
for her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave her such cuts
with it that she ran away in violent haste.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house
he fell into great grief, and would gladly have had his
sons back again, but no one knew whither they were gone.
The eldest had apprenticed himself to a joiner, and learnt
industriously and indefatigably, and when the time came
for him to go travelling, his master presented him with
a little table which had no particular appearance, and was
made of common wood, but it had one good property; if anyone
set it out, and said, "Little table, spread thyself,"
the good little table was at once covered with a clean little
cloth, and a plate was there, and a knife and fork beside
it, and dishes with boiled meats and roasted meats, as many
as there was room for, and a great glass of red wine shone
so that it made the heart glad. The young journeyman thought,
"With this thou hast enough for thy whole life,"
and went joyously about the world and never troubled himself
at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was
to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not
enter an inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood,
a meadow, or wherever he fancied, he took his little table
off his back, set it down before him, and said, "Cover
thyself," and then everything appeared that his heart
desired. At length he took it into his head to go back to
his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and who would
now willingly receive him with his wishing-table. It came
to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an
inn which was filled with guests. They bade him welcome,
and invited him to sit and eat with them, for otherwise
he would have difficulty in getting anything. "No,"
answered the joiner, "I will not take the few bites
out of your mouths; rather than that, you shall be my guests."
They laughed, and thought he was jesting with them; he,
however, placed his wooden table in the middle of the room,
and said, "Little table, cover thyself." Instantly
it was covered with food, so good that the host could never
have procured it, and the smell of it ascended pleasantly
to the nostrils of the guests. "Fall to, dear friends,"
said the joiner; and the guests when they saw that he meant
it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled
out their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised
them the most was that when a dish became empty, a full
one instantly took its place of its own accord. The innkeeper
stood in one corner and watched the affair; he did not at
all know what to say, but thought, "Thou couldst easily
find a use for such a cook as that in thy kitchen."
The joiner and his comrades made merry until late into the
night; at length they lay down to sleep, and the young apprentice
also went to bed, and set his magic table against the wall.
The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest; it occurred
to him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room
which looked just like the apprentice's and he brought it
out quite softly, and exchanged it for the wishing-table.
Next morning, the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table,
never thinking that he had got a false one, and went his
way. At mid-day he reached his father, who received him
with great joy. "Well, my dear son, what hast thou
learnt?" said he to him. "Father, I have become
a joiner."
"A good trade," replied the old man; "but
what hast thou brought back with thee from thy apprenticeship?"
"Father, the best thing which I have brought back with
me is this little table." The tailor inspected it on
all sides and said, "Thou didst not make a masterpiece
when thou mad'st that; it is a bad old table." "But
it is a table which furnishes itself," replied the
son. "When I set it out, and tell it to cover itself,
the most beautiful dishes stand on it, and a wine also,
which gladdens the heart. Just invite all our relations
and friends, they shall refresh and enjoy themselves for
once, for the table will give them all they require."
When the company was assembled, he put his table in the
middle of the room and said, "Little table, cover thyself,"
but the little table did not bestir itself, and remained
just as bare as any other table which did not understand
language. Then the poor apprentice became aware that his
table had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand
there like a liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and
were forced to go home without having eaten or drunk. The
father brought out his patches again, and went on tailoring,
but the son went to a master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed
himself to him. When his years were over, the master said,
"As thou hast conducted thyself so well, I give thee
an ass of a peculiar kind, which neither draws a cart nor
carries a sack." "To what use is he put, then?"
asked the young apprentice. "He lets gold drop from
his mouth," answered the miller. "If thou settest
him on a cloth and sayest 'Bricklebrit,' the good animal
will drop gold pieces for thee." "That is a fine
thing," said the apprentice, and thanked the master,
and went out into the world. When he had need of gold, he
had only to say "Bricklebrit" to his ass, and
it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick
them off the ground. Wheresoever he went, the best of everything
was good enough for him, and the dearer the better, for
he had always a full purse. When he had looked about the
world for some time, he thought, "Thou must seek out
thy father; if thou goest to him with the gold-ass he will
forget his anger, and receive thee well." It came to
pass that he came to the same public-house in which his
brother's table had been exchanged. He led his ass by the
bridle, and the host was about to take the animal from him
and tie him up, but the young apprentice said, "Don't
trouble yourself, I will take my grey horse into the stable,
and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he stands."
This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a man who
was forced to look after his ass himself, could not have
much to spend; but when the stranger put his hand in his
pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he was
to provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes
wide, and ran and sought out the best he could muster. After
dinner the guest asked what he owed. The host did not see
why he should not double the reckoning, and said the apprentice
must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but
his gold was just at an end. "Wait an instant, sir
host," said he, "I will go and fetch some money;"
but he took the table-cloth with him. The host could not
imagine what this could mean, and being curious, stole after
him, and as the guest bolted the stable-door, he peeped
through a hole left by a knot in the wood. The stranger
spread out the cloth under the animal and cried, "Bricklebrit,"
and immediately the beast began to let gold pieces fall,
so that it fairly rained down money on the ground. "Eh,
my word," said the host, "ducats are quickly coined
there! A purse like that is not amiss." The guest paid
his score, and went to bed, but in the night the host stole
down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and
tied up another ass in his place. Early next morning the
apprentice travelled away with his ass, and thought that
he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his father, who
rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in. "What
hast thou made of thyself, my son?" asked the old man.
"A miller," dear father, he answered. "What
hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?"
"Nothing else but an ass." "There are asses
enough here," said the father, "I would rather
have had a good goat." "Yes," replied the
son, "but it is no common ass, but a gold-ass, when
I say 'Bricklebrit,' the good beast opens its mouth and
drops a whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our
relations hither, and I will make them rich folks."
"That suits me well," said the tailor, "for
then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer with
the needle," and ran out himself and called the relations
together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade
them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass
into the room. "Now watch," said he, and cried,
"Bricklebrit," but no gold pieces fell, and it
was clear that the animal knew nothing of the art, for every
ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor miller
pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged
pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came.
There was no help for it, the old man had to betake him
to his needle once more, and the youth hired himself to
a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner,
and as that is skilled labour, he was the longest in learning.
His brothers, however, told him in a letter how badly things
had gone with them, and how the innkeeper had cheated them
of their beautiful wishing-gifts on the last evening before
they reached home. When the turner had served his time,
and had to set out on his travels, as he had conducted himself
so well, his master presented him with a sack and said,
"There is a cudgel in it." "I can put on
the sack," said he, "and it may be of good service
to me, but why should the cudgel be in it? It only makes
it heavy." "I will tell thee why," replied
the master; "if any one has done anything to injure
thee, do but say, 'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' and the cudgel
will leap forth among the people, and play such a dance
on their backs that they will not be able to stir or move
for a week, and it will not leave off until thou sayest,
"Into the sack, Cudgel!" The apprentice thanked
him, and put the sack on his back, and when any one came
too near him, and wished to attack him, he said, "Out
of the sack, Cudgel!" and instantly the cudgel sprang
out, and dusted the coat or jacket of one after the other
on their backs, and never stopped until it had stripped
it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone
was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the
young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been
cheated. He laid his sack on the table before him, and began
to talk of all the wonderful things which he had seen in
the world. "Yes," said he, "people may easily
find a table which will cover itself, a gold-ass, and things
of that kind -- extremely good things which I by no means
despise -- but these are nothing in comparison with the
treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying about
with me in my sack there." The inn-keeper pricked up
his ears, "What in the world can that be?" thought
he; "the sack must be filled with nothing but jewels;
I ought to get them cheap too, for all good things go in
threes." When it was time for sleep, the guest stretched
himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for
a pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest was lying
in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite
gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly
draw it away and lay another in its place. The turner had,
however, been waiting for this for a long time, and now
just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he
cried, "Out of the sack, Cudgel!" Instantly the
little cudgel came forth, and fell on the inn-keeper and
gave him a sound thrashing.
The host cried for mercy; but the louder he cried, so much
more heavily the cudgel beat the time on his back, until
at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner
said, "If thou dost not give back the table which covers
itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall begin afresh."
"Oh, no," cried the host, quite humbly, "I
will gladly produce everything, only make the accursed kobold
creep back into the sack." Then said the apprentice,
"I will let mercy take the place of justice, but beware
of getting into mischief again!" So he cried, "Into
the sack, Cudgel!" and let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the
wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when
he saw him once more, and asked him likewise what he had
learned in foreign parts. "Dear father," said
he, "I have become a turner." "A skilled
trade," said the father. "What hast thou brought
back with thee from thy travels?"
"A precious thing, dear father," replied the
son, "a cudgel in the sack."
"What!" cried the father, "a cudgel! That's
worth thy trouble, indeed! From every tree thou can cut
thyself one." "But not one like this, dear father.
If I say, 'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' the cudgel springs
out and leads any one who means ill with me a weary dance,
and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for
fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I got back
the wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish inn-keeper
took away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for,
and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and
to drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the
bargain." The old tailor would not quite believe, but
nevertheless got the relatives together. Then the turner
spread a cloth in the room and led in the gold-ass, and
said to his brother, "Now, dear brother, speak to him."
The miller said, "Bricklebrit," and instantly
the gold pieces fell down on the cloth like a thunder-shower,
and the ass did not stop until every one of them had so
much that he could carry no more. (I can see in thy face
that thou also wouldst like to be there.)
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, "Now
dear brother, speak to it." And scarcely had the carpenter
said, "Table, cover thyself," than it was spread
and amply covered with the most exquisite dishes. Then such
a meal took place as the good tailor had never yet known
in his house, and the whole party of kinsmen stayed together
till far in the night, and were all merry and glad. The
tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-measure and goose,
in a press, and lived with his three sons in joy and splendour.
(What, however, has become of the goat who was to blame
for the tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell
thee. She was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran
to a fox's hole and crept into it. When the fox came home,
he was met by two great eyes shining out of the darkness,
and was terrified and ran away. A bear met him, and as the
fox looked quite disturbed, he said, "What is the matter
with thee, brother Fox, why dost thou look like that?"
"Ah," answered Redskin, "a fierce beast is
in my cave and stared at me with its fiery eyes." "We
will soon drive him out," said the bear, and went with
him to the cave and looked in, but when he saw the fiery
eyes, fear seized on him likewise; he would have nothing
to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The
bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she
said, "Bear, thou art really pulling a very pitiful
face; what has become of all thy gaiety?" "It
is all very well for thee to talk," replied the bear,
"a furious beast with staring eyes is in Redskin's
house, and we can't drive him out." The bee said, "Bear
I pity thee, I am a poor weak creature whom thou wouldst
not turn aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help
thee." She flew into the fox's cave, lighted on the
goat's smoothly-shorn head, and stung her so violently,
that she sprang up, crying "Meh, meh," and ran
forth into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one
knows where she has gone.)
From Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Household Tales, trans. Margaret
Hunt (London: George Bell, 1884), 1:143-153. |
