Czech Folk Tales

The hag soon stopped her pursuit. The children were tired, so they lay down under a tree in the forest and fell asleep. As they were sleeping, somebody woke them up. It was the forester. They told him that they were afraid of falling into the Waternick’s hands again. But the forester told them not to be afraid, and asked how they came there. The children told him everything just as it had happened.

Now, the forester remembered that he had heard of a widow who had lost her children. So he thought that these must be the children. He said nothing, but he told his wife to get them some food, and asked the children to sit down and eat. The children thought the food was very nice, so he asked them what they were accustomed to eat. They said they were accustomed to eat flowers. So they ate plenty.

The forester decided to do all he could to get the children home. At last it was discovered where their mother lived, and so the children came back to her, and they lived with her until they died.

THE MAN WHO MET MISERY

Once upon a time there lived a rich man, so rich that you might almost say he oozed gold. He had a son, and from his boyhood the lad was a real spendthrift, for he knew nothing about hard times. Yet he had often been told that there was Misery in the world. So when he was grown up, he thought: “Well, I’m sick of staying at home, so I’ll go out into the world to see if I can meet Misery.”

He told this to his father, and his father said at once: “Yes, you can go. If you stay at home, you’ll soon turn into a lazy old woman. You’ll get experience in the world, and that can’t do you any harm.”

So our Francis – that was his name, though really it doesn’t matter very much what his name was – took everything he wanted and started off on his travels. So long as he had enough money, he was all right, he couldn’t meet with Misery. But when his money was all spent – that’s when everybody feels the pinch – he began to hang his head and his travels lost a good deal of their charm. But he told people his name and his father’s name, and for a time they helped him. But at last he came into a country that was quite strange to him. There was a vast desert, through which he walked for a long time, and he began to feel hungry and thirsty, but there was no water – no, not so much as would moisten his tongue.

Now, as he went on his way, he saw a flight of stairs going down into a hole, and, without hesitating, down he went.

He came into a cellar, and there he saw a man lying on a table. It was an awfully big man, of the kind that used to be called ogres, and he was snoring like a circular saw.

Francis looked about him, and he saw all sorts of human bones lying about. He thought: “That’s a nice mess. I expect the fellow’s a man-eater, and he’ll swallow me down like a currant. I’m done for now.”

He would have liked to go away, but he was afraid to move. But he had a dagger, so he drew it from its sheath without making any noise, and tried to steal up to the ogre quietly. The ogre’s head was lying on the table, so he pierced both his eyes with the dagger. The ogre sprang up, cursing horribly. He groped about him and found that he was totally blind.

Francis cleared the stairs in two jumps and off he ran, trying to get as far from the ogre as he could. But the ogre knew the place well and kept close on his heels.

“To think that a shrimp like that could make me suffer so!” he thought; and yet he found that, run as he would, he couldn’t catch the lad. So he cried out: “Wait a bit, you worm! Since you’re such a champion and have managed to tackle me, I’ll give you something to remember me by.”

As he said this, he flung a ring at the lad, and the jewel in it shone like flame. The lad heard the ring tinkle as he ran by, so he picked it up and put it on his finger. But as soon as the ring was on his finger, the giant called out: “Where are you, ring?” And the ring answered: “Here I am,” and the ogre ran after the sound. Francis jumped on one side, but the ogre called out again, “Where are you?” and the ring answered: “Here!”

So it went on for some time, until Francis was so tired that his only thought was: “Well, if he kills me, he kills me.” He tried to pull the ring off, but it clung tight, really cutting into the flesh, and the ogre was still following close on his heels. At last – there was no other choice, for the ring kept on calling out “Here I am” – Francis stretched out that finger, and the ogre broke it off with one grip. Off ran Francis, glad enough to get off with his life.

When he reached home, they asked him: “Did you meet Misery?”

“Indeed I did. I know what it is now. It gave me a nice run for it. It’s an awful thing, and there’s no joking with it.”

NINE AT A BLOW

Once upon a time there was a tailor, and, whenever he hadn’t a job, he used to spend his time mending stockings. One day after dinner the table was covered with flies. The tailor struck at them with a stocking and killed nine of them at a blow.

As he hadn’t any job in hand, he started out to see the world, and his belt had written on it “Nine at a blow.” On his way he met a boy, who asked him to buy a finch from him. He bought it, put it in his knapsack, and went on his way. Then he came to a farm where the farmer’s wife was making cheese. He asked her for something to eat, so she gave him some sour milk and a piece of Yorkshire cheese. The tailor drank the milk and put the cheese in his knapsack and went on his way. At last he reached a town. It was a hot day, so he lay down and fell asleep. Now, a giant happened to pass that way, and he saw written in golden letters: “Nine at a blow.”

So he waked the tailor and asked him: “Have you really killed nine at a blow?”

The tailor answered that he had, and the giant said: “Let’s have a trial which of us is the stronger. I’ll cast a stone, and it will be an hour before it comes down.”

The tailor said: “I’ll cast a stone that won’t come down at all.”

So the giant cast a stone, and it was a full hour before it came down again. Instead of casting a stone, the tailor let the finch go, and, of course, it didn’t come back again.

So the giant said: “Let’s have another try. I’ll crush a stone to powder.”

The tailor said: “I’ll squeeze water from a stone.”

So the giant took a pebble and crushed it to powder. The tailor took the cheese and squeezed it till the water oozed out of it.

The giant gave in, and acknowledged that the tailor was the stronger of the two. So they went on together till they came to a cherry-tree growing near a meadow, and the cherries were ripe. They wanted to pick some of the cherries for themselves. So the tailor climbed the tree, but the giant simply bent down the top of the tree and began to pluck the cherries. When he had finished he let go, and the tailor was flung onto a heap of dry grass piled up in the meadow. So the tailor said: “If it hadn’t been for my skill in flying, I should have broken my neck,” and he promised to teach the giant how to fly.

So they went on their way again, and they came to a town. The town was all in mourning. They asked the reason, and they were told that a dragon had taken up his headquarters in the church and was killing the people. The king would give a thousand pounds to whoever could kill the dragon. So they told the king that they would kill the dragon.

They ordered a big hammer and a big pair of tongs to be made for them. When they were made, the giant took the tongs and he gave the hammer to the tailor to carry. But the tailor said: “Wouldn’t it shame you if people should see us, each carrying such a trifle? Take both the things yourself.”

When they came near the church door, the giant gave the hammer to the tailor, who stuck fast to it. Then the dragon came dashing out, and flung the tailor behind him, but the giant split him in twain. But the tailor protested:

“A nice mess you’ve made of it. I meant to take the dragon alive. We should have got more money for him so.” Then he said: “Now I will teach you how to fly.”

So they climbed up the church steeple, and the tailor said: “When I say ‘One, two, three,’ you must jump.” And the giant jumped and broke his neck.

The tailor told the king that the dragon had killed the giant, so he pocketed the thousand pounds for himself.

A CLEVER LASS

Once upon a time there was a shepherd. He used to pasture his sheep upon a hill, and one day he saw something glittering on the opposite hill. So he went there to see what it was. It was a golden mortar. He took it up and said to his daughter: “I will give this mortar to our king.”

But she said: “Don’t do that. If you give him the mortar, you won’t have the pestle, and he is sure to ask for it, and then you will get into trouble.”

But the shepherd thought that she was only a silly girl. He took the mortar, and, when he came before the king, he said: “Begging your pardon, Mr. King, I want to give you this mortar.”

The king answered him roughly: “If you give me the mortar, I must have the pestle as well. Unless the pestle is here within three days, your life will be forfeit.”

The shepherd began to lament: “My daughter was right when she said that when you had got the mortar you would want the pestle too. I wouldn’t listen to her, so it serves me right.”

“Have you such a clever daughter as that?” asked the king.

“Indeed I have,” said the shepherd.

“Then tell your daughter that I will marry her, if she comes neither walking nor riding, clothed nor unclothed, neither by day nor by night, neither at noon nor in the morning. And I won’t ask for the pestle either.”

The shepherd went home and said: “You can get me out of this, if you go to Mr. King neither clothed nor unclothed,” and the rest of it.

But the daughter wasn’t a bit frightened. She came with the fall of dusk (and that was neither at noon nor in the morning); she dressed herself in fishing-nets; she took a goat, and she partly rode on the goat and partly she walked.

And when the king saw that she had only a fishing-net on, that she came with the approach of dusk, and that she was partly walking, partly riding on the goat, he was bound to marry her. But he said to her: “You will be my wife so long as you don’t give advice to anybody; but if you do, you must part with me.”

Well, she didn’t give advice to anybody until one day there was a market in the town, and a farmer’s mare had a foal at the market. The foal ran away to another farmer, who was there with a gelding, and the farmer said: “This foal belongs to me.”

They went to law about it, and at last the matter came before the king. And the king, considering that every animal ought to run to its mother, decided that a gelding had had a foal.

The farmer who owned the mare went down the stairs, saying over and over again: “The gelding has foaled! the gelding has foaled!”

The queen heard him, and she said: “Man, you are talking nonsense.”