THE MASTER THIEF

THE MASTER THIEF

Once upon a time there was a poor cottager who had three sons. He had nothing

to leave them when he died, and no money with which to put them to any trade,

so that he did not know what to make of them. At last he said he would give

them leave to take to anything each liked best, and to go whithersoever they

pleased, and he would go with them a bit of the way; and so he did. He went

with them till they came to a place where three roads met, and there each of

them chose a road, and their father bade them good-bye, and went back home. I

have never heard tell what became of the two elder; but as for the youngest, he

went both far and long, as you shall hear.

So it fell out one night as he was going through a great wood that such bad

weather overtook him. It blew, and sleeted, and drove so that he could scarce

keep his eyes open; and in a trice, before he knew how it was, he got

bewildered, and could not find either road or path. But as he went on and on,

at last he saw a glimmering of light far far off in the wood. So he thought he

would try and get to the light; and after a time he did reach it. There it was

in a large house, and the fire was blazing so brightly inside, that he could

tell the folk had not yet gone to bed; so he went in and saw an old dame

bustling about and minding the house.

“Good evening!” said the youth.

“Good evening!” said the old dame.

“Hutetu! it’s such foul weather out of doors to-night”, said

he.

“So it is”, said she.

“Can I get leave to have a bed and shelter here to-night?” asked

the youth.

“You’ll get no good by sleeping here”, said the old dame;

“for if the folk come home and find you here, they’ll kill both me

and you.”

“What sort of folk, then, are they who live here?” asked the youth.

“Oh, robbers! And a bad lot of them too”, said the old dame.

“They stole me away when I was little, and have kept me as their

housekeeper ever since.”

“Well, for all that, I think I’ll just go to bed”, said the

youth. “Come what may, I’ll not stir out at night in such

weather.”

“Very well”, said the old dame; “but if you stay, it will be

the worse for you.”

With that the youth got into a bed which stood there, but he dared not go to

sleep, and very soon after in came the robbers; so the old dame told them how a

stranger fellow had come in whom she had not been able to get out of the house

again.

“Did you see if he had any money?” said the robbers.

“Such a one as he money!” said the old dame, “the tramper!

Why, if he had clothes to his back, it was as much as he had.”

Then the robbers began to talk among themselves what they should do with him;

if they should kill him outright, or what else they should do. Meantime the

youth got up and began to talk to them, and to ask if they didn’t want a

servant, for it might be that he would be glad to enter their service.

“Oh”, said they, “if you have a mind to follow the trade that

we follow, you can very well get a place here.”

“It’s all one to me what trade I follow”, said the youth;

“for when I left home, father gave me leave to take to any trade I

chose.”

“Well, have you a mind to steal?” asked the robbers.

“I don’t care”, said the youth, for he thought it would not

take long to learn that trade.

Now there lived a man a little way off who had three oxen. One of these he was

to take to the town to sell, and the robbers had heard what he was going to do,

so they said to the youth, if he were good to steal the ox from the man by the

way without his knowing it, and without doing him any harm, they would give him

leave to be their serving-man.

Well! the youth set off, and took with him a pretty shoe, with a silver buckle

on it, which lay about the house; and he put the shoe in the road along which

the man was going with his ox; and when he had done that, he went into the wood

and hid himself under a bush. So when the man came by he saw the shoe at once.

“That’s a nice shoe”, said he. “If I only had the

fellow to it, I’d take it home with me, and perhaps I’d put my old

dame in a good humour for once.” For you must know he had an old wife, so

cross and snappish, it was not long between each time that she boxed his ears.

But then he bethought him that he could do nothing with the odd shoe unless he

had the fellow to it; so he went on his way and let the shoe lie on the road.

Then the youth took up the shoe, and made all the haste he could to get before

the man by a short cut through the wood, and laid it down before him in the

road again. When the man came along with his ox, he got quite angry with

himself for being so dull as to leave the fellow to the shoe lying in the road

instead of taking it with him; so he tied the ox to the fence, and said to

himself, “I may just as well run back and pick up the other, and then

I’ll have a pair of good shoes for my old dame, and so, perhaps,

I’ll get a kind word from her for once.”

So he set off, and hunted and hunted up and down for the shoe, but no shoe did

he find; and at length he had to go back with the one he had. But, meanwhile

the youth had taken the ox and gone off with it; and when the man came and saw

his ox gone, he began to cry and bewail, for he was afraid his old dame would

kill him outright when she came to know that the ox was lost. But just then it

came across his mind that he would go home and take the second ox, and drive it

to the town, and not let his old dame know anything about the matter. So he did

this, and went home and took the ox without his dame’s knowing it, and

set off with it to the town. But the robbers knew all about it, and they said

to the youth, if he could get this ox too, without the man’s knowing it,

and without his doing him any harm, he should be as good as any one of them. If

that were all, the youth said, he did not think it a very hard thing.

This time he took with him a rope, and hung himself up under the arm-pits to a

tree right in the man’s way. So the man came along with his ox, and when

he saw such a sight hanging there he began to feel a little queer.

“Well”, said he, “whatever heavy thoughts you had who have

hanged yourself up there, it can’t be helped; you may hang for what I

care! I can’t breathe life into you again”; and with that he went

on his way with his ox. Down slipped the youth from the tree, and ran by a

footpath, and got before the man, and hung himself up right in his way again.

“Bless me!” said the man, “were you really so heavy at heart

that you hanged yourself up there—or is it only a piece of witchcraft

that I see before me? Aye, aye! you may hang for all I care, whether you are a

ghost or whatever you are.” So he passed on with his ox.

Now the youth did just as he had done twice before; he jumped down from the

tree, ran through the wood by a footpath, and hung himself up right in the

man’s way again. But when the man saw this sight for the third time, he

said to himself:

“Well! this is an ugly business! Is it likely now that they should have

been so heavy at heart as to hang themselves, all these three? No! I cannot

think it is anything else than a piece of witchcraft that I see. But now

I’ll soon know for certain; if the other two are still hanging there, it

must be really so; but if they are not, then it can be nothing but witchcraft

that I see.”

So he tied up his ox, and ran back to see if the others were still really

hanging there. But while he went and peered up into all the trees, the youth

jumped down and took his ox and ran off with it. When the man came back and

found his ox gone, he was in a sad plight, and, as any one might know without

being told, he began to cry and bemoan; but at last he came to take it easier,

and so he thought:

“There’s no other help for it than to go home and take the third ox

without my dame’s knowing it, and to try and drive a good bargain with

it, so that I may get a good sum of money for it.”

So he went home and set off with the ox, and his old dame knew never a word

about the matter. But the robbers, they knew all about it, and they said to the

youth, that if he could steal this ox as he had stolen the other two, then he

should be master over the whole band. Well, the youth set off, and ran into the

wood; and as the man came by with his ox he set up a dreadful bellowing, just

like a great ox in the wood. When the man heard that, you can’t think how

glad he was, for it seemed to him that he knew the voice of his big bullock,

and he thought that now he should find both of them again; so he tied up the

third ox, and ran off from the road to look for them in the wood; but meantime

the youth went off with the third ox. Now, when the man came back and found he

had lost this ox too, he was so wild that there was no end to his grief. He

cried and roared and beat his breast, and, to tell the truth, it was many days

before he dared go home; for he was afraid lest his old dame should kill him

outright on the spot.

As for the robbers, they were not very well pleased either, when they had to

own that the youth was master over the whole band. So one day they thought they

would try their hands at something which he was not man enough to do; and they

set off all together, every man Jack of them, and left him alone at home. Now,

the first thing that he did when they were all well clear of the house, was to

drive the oxen out to the road, so that they might run back to the man from

whom he had stolen them; and right glad he was to see them, as you may fancy.

Next he took all the horses which the robbers had, and loaded them with the

best things he could lay his hands on-gold and silver, and clothes and other

fine things; and then he bade the old dame to greet the robbers when they came

back, and to thank them for him, and to say that now he was setting off on his

travels, and they would have hard work to find him again; and with that, off he

started.

After a good bit he came to the road along which he was going when he fell

among the robbers, and when he got near home, and could see his father’s

cottage, he put on a uniform which he had found among the clothes he had taken

from the robbers, and which was made just like a general’s. So he drove

up to the door as if he were any other great man. After that he went in and

asked if he could have a lodging? No; that he couldn’t at any price.

“How ever should I be able”, said the man, “to make room in

my house for such a fine gentleman—I who scarce have a rag to lie upon,

and miserable rags too?”

“You always were a stingy old hunks”, said the youth, “and so

you are still, when you won’t take your own son in.”

“What, you my son!” said the man.

“Don’t you know me again?” said the youth. Well, after a

little while he did know him again.

“But what have you been turning your hand to, that you have made yourself

so great a man in such haste?” asked the man.

“Oh! I’ll soon tell you”, said the youth. “You said I

might take to any trade I chose, and so I bound myself apprentice to a pack of

thieves and robbers, and now I’ve served my time out, and am become a

Master Thief.”

Now there lived a Squire close by to his father’s cottage, and he had

such a great house, and such heaps of money, he could not tell how much he had.

He had a daughter too, and a smart and pretty girl she was. So the Master Thief

set his heart upon having her to wife, and he told his father to go to the

Squire and ask for his daughter for him.

“If he asks by what trade I get my living, you can say I’m a Master

Thief.”

“I think you’ve lost your wits”, said the man, “for you

can’t be in your right mind when you think of such stuff.”

No! he had not lost his wits, his father must and should go to the Squire, and

ask for his daughter.

“Nay, but I tell you, I daren’t go to the Squire and be your

spokesman; he who is so rich, and has so much money”, said the man.

Yes, there was no help for it, said the Master Thief; he should go whether he

would or no; and if he did not go by fair means, he would soon make him go by

foul. But the man was still loath to go; so he stepped after him, and rubbed

him down with a good birch cudgel, and kept on till the man came crying and

sobbing inside the Squire’s door.

“How now, my man! what ails you?” said the Squire. So he told him

the whole story; how he had three sons who set off one day, and how he had

given them leave to go whithersoever they would, and to follow whatever calling

they chose. “And here now is the youngest come home, and has thrashed me

till he has made me come to you and ask for your daughter for him to wife; and

he bids me say, besides, that he’s a Master Thief.” And so he fell

to crying and sobbing again.

“Never mind, my man”, said the Squire, laughing; “just go

back and tell him from me, he must prove his skill first. If he can steal the

roast from the spit in the kitchen on Sunday, while all the household are

looking after it, he shall have my daughter. Just go and tell him that.”

So he went back and told the youth, who thought it would be an easy job. So he

set about and caught three hares alive, and put them into a bag, and dressed

himself in some old rags, until he looked so poor and filthy that it made

one’s heart bleed to see; and then he stole into the passage at the

back-door of the Squire’s house on the Sunday forenoon, with his bag,

just like any other beggar-boy. But the Squire himself and all his household

were in the kitchen watching the roast. Just as they were doing this, the youth

let one hare go, and it set off and ran round and round the yard in front of

the house.

“Oh, just look at that hare!” said the folk in the kitchen, and

were all for running out to catch it.

Yes, the Squire saw it running too. “Oh, let it run”, said he;

“there’s no use in thinking to catch a hare on the spring.”

A little while after, the youth let the second hare go, and they saw it in the

kitchen, and thought it was the same they had seen before, and still wanted to

run out and catch it; but the Squire said again it was no use. It was not long

before the youth let the third hare go, and it set off and ran round and round

the yard as the others before it. Now, they saw it from the kitchen, and still

thought it was the same hare that kept on running about, and were all eager to

be out after it.

“Well, it is a fine hare”, said the Squire; “come let’s

see if we can’t lay our hands on it.”

So out he ran, and the rest with him—away they all went, the hare before,

and they after; so that it was rare fun to see. But meantime the youth took the

roast and ran off with it; and where the Squire got a roast for his dinner that

day I don’t know; but one thing I know, and that is, that he had no roast

hare, though he ran after it till he was both warm and weary.

Now it chanced that the Priest came to dinner that day, and when the Squire

told him what a trick the Master Thief had played him, he made such game of him

that there was no end of it.

“For my part”, said the Priest, “I can’t think how it

could ever happen to me to be made such a fool of by a fellow like that.”

“Very well—only keep a sharp look-out”, said the Squire;

“maybe he’ll come to see you before you know a word of it.”

But the Priest stuck to his text—that he did, and made game of the Squire

because he had been so taken in.

Later in the afternoon came the Master Thief, and wanted to have the

Squire’s daughter, as he had given his word. But the Squire began to talk

him over, and said, “Oh, you must first prove your skill a little more;

for what you did to-day was no great thing, after all. Couldn’t you now

play off a good trick on the Priest, who is sitting in there, and making game

of me for letting such a fellow as you twist me round his thumb.”

“Well, as for that, it wouldn’t be hard”, said the Master

Thief. So he dressed himself up like a bird, threw a great white sheet over his

body, took the wings of a goose and tied them to his back, and so climbed up

into a great maple which stood in the Priest’s garden. And when the

Priest came home in the evening, the youth began to bawl out:

“Father Laurence! Father Laurence!”—for that was the

Priest’s name.

“Who is that calling me?” said the Priest.

“I am an angel”, said the Master Thief, “sent from God to let

you know that you shall be taken up alive into heaven for your piety’s

sake. Next Monday night you must hold yourself ready for the journey, for I

shall come then to fetch you in a sack; and all your gold and your silver, and

all that you have of this world’s goods, you must lay together in a heap

in your dining-room.”

Well, Father Laurence fell on his knees before the angel, and thanked him; and

the very next day he preached a farewell sermon, and gave it out how there had

come down an angel unto the big maple in his garden, who had told him that he

was to be taken up alive into heaven for his piety’s sake; and he

preached and made such a touching discourse, that all who were at church wept,

both young and old.

So the next Monday night came the Master Thief like an angel again, and the

Priest fell on his knees and thanked him before he was put into the sack; but

when he had got him well in, the Master Thief drew and dragged him over stocks

and stones.

“OW! OW!” groaned the Priest inside the sack, “wherever are

we going?”

“This is the narrow way which leadeth unto the kingdom of heaven”,

said the Master Thief, who went on dragging him along till he had nearly broken

every bone in his body. At last he tumbled him into a goose-house that belonged

to the Squire, and the geese began pecking and pinching him with their bills,

so that he was more dead than alive.

“Now you are in the flames of purgatory, to be cleansed and purified for

life everlasting”, said the Master Thief; and with that he went his way,

and took all the gold which the Priest had laid together in his dining-room.

The next morning, when the goose-girl came to let the geese out, she heard how

the Priest lay in the sack, and bemoaned himself in the goose-house.

“In heaven’s name, who’s there, and what ails you?” she

cried.

“Oh!” said the Priest, “if you are an angel from heaven, do

let me out, and let me return again to earth, for it is worse here than in

hell. The little fiends keep on pinching me with tongs.”

“Heaven help us, I am no angel at all”, said the girl, as she

helped the Priest out of the sack; “I only look after the Squire’s

geese, and like enough they are the little fiends which have pinched your

reverence.”

“Oh!” groaned the Priest, “this is all that Master

Thief’s doing. Ah! my gold and my silver, and my fine clothes.” And

he beat his breast, and hobbled home at such a rate that the girl thought he

had lost his wits all at once.

Now when the Squire came to hear how it had gone with the Priest, and how he

had been along the narrow way, and into purgatory, he laughed till he well-nigh

split his sides. But when the Master Thief came and asked for his daughter as

he had promised, the Squire put him off again, and said:

“You must do one masterpiece better still, that I may see plainly what

you are fit for. Now, I have twelve horses in my stable, and on them I will put

twelve grooms, one on each. If you are so good a thief as to steal the horses

from under them, I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Very well, I daresay I can do it”, said the Master Thief;

“but shall I really have your daughter if I can?”

“Yes, if you can, I’ll do my best for you”, said the Squire.

So the Master Thief set off to a shop, and bought brandy enough to fill two

pocket-flasks, and into one of them he put a sleepy drink, but into the other

only brandy. After that he hired eleven men to lie in wait at night, behind the

Squire’s stable-yard; and last of all, for fair words and a good bit of

money, he borrowed a ragged gown and cloak from an old woman; and so, with a

staff in his hand, and a bundle at his back, he limped off, as evening drew on,

towards the Squire’s stable. Just as he got there they were watering the

horses for the night, and had their hands full of work. “What the devil

do you want?” said one of the grooms to the old woman.

“Oh, oh! hutetu! it is so bitter cold”, said she, and shivered and

shook, and made wry faces. “Hutetu! it is so cold, a poor wretch may

easily freeze to death”; and with that she fell to shivering and shaking

again.

“Oh! for the love of heaven, can I get leave to stay here a while, and

sit inside the stable door?”

“To the devil with your leave”, said one. “Pack yourself off

this minute, for if the Squire sets his eye on you, he’ll lead us a

pretty dance.”

“Oh! the poor old bag-of-bones”, said another, whose heart took

pity on her, “the old hag may sit inside and welcome; such a one as she

can do no harm.”

And the rest said, some she should stay, and some she shouldn’t; but

while they were quarrelling and minding the horses, she crept further and

further into the stable, till at last she sat herself down behind the door; and

when she had got so far, no one gave any more heed to her.

As the night wore on, the men found it rather cold work to sit so still and

quiet on horseback.

“Hutetu! it is so devilish cold”, said one, and beat his arms

crosswise.

“That it is”, said another; “I freeze so, that my teeth

chatter.”

“If one only had a quid to chew”, said a third.

Well! there was one who had an ounce or two; so they shared it between them,

though it wasn’t much, after all, that each got; and so they chewed and

spat, and spat and chewed. This helped them somewhat; but in a little while

they were just as bad as ever.

“Hutetu!” said one, and shivered and shook.

“Hutetu!” said the old woman, and shivered so, that every tooth in

her head chattered. Then she pulled out the flask with brandy in it, and her

hand shook so that the spirit splashed about in the flask, and then she took

such a gulp, that it went “bop” in her throat.

“What’s that you’ve got in your flask, old girl?” said

one of the grooms.

“Oh! it’s only a drop of brandy, old man”, said she.

“Brandy! Well, I never! Do let me have a drop”, screamed the whole

twelve, one after another.

“Oh! but it is such a little drop”, mumbled the old woman,

“it will not even wet your mouths round.” But they must and would

have it; there was no help for it; and so she pulled out the flask with the

sleepy drink in it, and put it to the first man’s lips; then she shook no

more, but guided the flask so that each of them got what he wanted, and the

twelfth had not done drinking before the first sat and snored. Then the Master

Thief threw off his beggar’s rags, and took one groom after the other so

softly off their horses, and set them astride on the beams between the stalls;

and so he called his eleven men, and rode off with the Squire’s twelve

horses. But when the Squire got up in the morning, and went to look after his

grooms, they had just begun to come to; and some of them fell to spurring the

beams with their spurs, till the splinters flew again, and some fell off, and

some still hung on and sat there looking like fools.

“Ho! ho!” said the Squire; “I see very well who has been

here; but as for you, a pretty set of blockheads you must be to sit here and

let the Master Thief steal the horses from between your legs.”

So they all got a good leathering because they had not kept a sharper look-out.

Further on in the day came the Master Thief again, and told how he had managed

the matter, and asked for the Squire’s daughter, as he had promised; but

the Squire gave him one hundred dollars down, and said he must do something

better still.

“Do you think now”, said he, “you can steal the horse from

under me while I am out riding on his back?” “O, yes! I daresay I

could”, said the Master Thief, “if I were really sure of getting

your daughter.”

Well, well, the Squire would see what he could do; and he told the Master Thief

a day when he would be taking a ride on a great common where they drilled the

troops. So the Master Thief soon got hold of an old worn-out jade of a mare,

and set to work, and made traces and collar of withies and broom-twigs, and

bought an old beggarly cart and a great cask. After that he told an old beggar

woman, he would give her ten dollars if she would get inside the cask, and keep

her mouth agape over the taphole, into which he was going to stick his finger.

No harm should happen to her; she should only be driven about a little; and if

he took his finger out more than once, she was to have ten dollars more. Then

he threw a few rags and tatters over himself, and stuffed himself out, and put

on a wig and a great beard of goat’s hair, so that no one could know him

again, and set off for the common, where the Squire had already been riding

about a good bit. When he reached the place, he went along so softly and slowly

that he scarce made an inch of way. “Gee up! Gee up!” and so he

went on a little; then he stood stock still, and so on a little again; and

altogether the pace was so poor it never once came into the Squire’s head

that this could be the Master Thief.

At last the Squire rode right up to him, and asked if he had seen any one

lurking about in the wood thereabouts. “No”, said the man, “I

haven’t seen a soul.”

“Harkye, now”, said the Squire, “if you have a mind to ride

into the wood, and hunt about and see if you can fall upon any one lurking

about there, you shall have the loan of my horse, and a shilling into the

bargain, to drink my health, for your pains.”

“I don’t see how I can go”, said the man, “for I am

going to a wedding with this cask of mead, which I have been to town to fetch,

and here the tap has fallen out by the way, and so I must go along, holding my

finger in the taphole.”

“Ride off”, said the Squire; “I’ll look after your

horse and cask.”

Well, on these terms the man was willing to go; but he begged the Squire to be

quick in putting his finger into the taphole when he took his own out, and to

mind and keep it there till he came back. At last the Squire grew weary of

standing there with his finger in the taphole, so he took it out.

“Now I shall have ten dollars more!” screamed the old woman inside

the cask; and then the Squire saw at once how the land lay, and took himself

off home; but he had not gone far before they met him with a fresh horse, for

the Master Thief had already been to his house, and told them to send one. The

day after, he came to the Squire and would have his daughter, as he had given

his word; but the Squire put him off again with fine words, and gave him two

hundred dollars, and said he must do one more masterpiece. If he could do that,

he should have her. Well, well, the Master Thief thought he could do it, if he

only knew what it was to be.

“Do you think, now”, said the Squire, “you can steal the

sheet off our bed, and the shift off my wife’s back. Do you think you

could do that?”

“It shall be done”, said the Master Thief. “I only wish I was

as sure of getting your daughter.”

So when night began to fall, the Master Thief went out and cut down a thief who

hung on the gallows, and threw him across his shoulders, and carried him off.

Then he got a long ladder and set it up against the Squire’s bedroom

window, and so climbed up, and kept bobbing the dead man up and down, just for

all the world like one that was peeping in at the window.

“That’s the Master Thief, old lass!” said the Squire, and

gave his wife a nudge on the side. “Now see if I don’t shoot him,

that’s all.”

So saying he took up a rifle which he had laid at his bedside.

“No! no! pray don’t shoot him after telling him he might come and

try”, said his wife.

“Don’t talk to me, for shoot him I will”, said he; and so he

lay there and aimed and aimed; but as soon as the head came up before the

window, and he saw a little of it, so soon was it down again. At last he

thought he had a good aim; “bang” went the gun, down fell the dead

body to the ground with a heavy thump, and down went the Master Thief too as

fast as he could.

“Well”, said the Squire, “it is quite true that I am the

chief magistrate in these parts; but people are fond of talking, and it would

be a bore if they came to see this dead man’s body. I think the best

thing to be done is that I should go down and bury him.”

“You must do as you think best, dear”, said his wife. So the Squire

got out of bed and went downstairs, and he had scarce put his foot out of the

door before the Master Thief stole in, and went straight upstairs to his wife.

“Why, dear, back already!” said she, for she thought it was her

husband.

“O yes, I only just put him into a hole, and threw a little earth over

him. It is enough that he is out of sight, for it is such a bad night out of

doors; by-and-by I’ll do it better. But just let me have the sheet to

wipe myself with—he was so bloody—and I have made myself in such a

mess with him.”

So he got the sheet.

After a while he said:

“Do you know I am afraid you must let me have your nightshift too, for

the sheet won’t do by itself; that I can see.”

So she gave him the shift also. But just then it came across his mind that he

had forgotten to lock the house-door, so he must step down and look to that

before he came back to bed, and away he went with both shift and sheet.

A little while after came the true Squire.

“Why! what a time you’ve taken to lock the door, dear!” said

his wife; “and what have you done with the sheet and shift?”

“What do you say?” said the Squire.

“Why, I am asking what you have done with the sheet and shift that you

had to wipe off the blood”, said she.

“What, in the Deil’s name!” said the Squire, “has he

taken me in this time too?”

Next day came the Master Thief and asked for the Squire’s daughter, as he

had given his word; and then the Squire dared not do anything else than give

her to him, and a good lump of money into the bargain; for, to tell the truth,

he was afraid lest the Master Thief should steal the eyes out of his head, and

that the people would begin to say spiteful things of him if he broke his word.

So the Master Thief lived well and happily from that time forward. I

don’t know whether he stole any more; but if he did, I am quite sure it

was only for the sake of a bit of fun.

THE BEST WISH Once on a time there were three brothers; I don’t quite know how it

happened, but each of them had got the right to wish one thing, whatever he

chose. So the two elder were not long a-thinking; they wished that every time

they put their hands in their pockets they might pull out a piece of money;

for, said they: “The man who has as much money as he wishes for is always sure to get on

in the world.” But the youngest wished something better still. He wished that every woman he

saw might fall in love with him as soon as she saw him; and you shall soon hear

how far better this was than gold and goods. So, when they had all wished their wishes, the two elder were for setting out

to see the world; and Boots, their youngest brother, asked if he mightn’t

go along with them; but they wouldn’t hear of such a thing. “Wherever we go”, they said, “we shall be treated as counts

and kings; but you, you starveling wretch, who haven’t a penny, and never

will have one, who do you think will care a bit about you?” “Well, but in spite of that, I’d like to go with you”, said

Boots; “perhaps a dainty bit may fall to my share too off the plates of

such high and mighty lords.” At last, after begging and praying, he got leave to go with them, if he would

be their servant, else they wouldn’t hear of it. So, when they had gone a day or so, they came to an inn, where the two who had

the money alighted, and called for fish and flesh, and fowl, and brandy and

mead, and everything that was good; but Boots, poor fellow, had to look after

their luggage and all that belonged to the two great people. Now, as he went to

and fro outside, and loitered about in the inn-yard, the innkeeper’s wife

looked out of window and saw the servant of the gentlemen upstairs; and, all at

once, she thought she had never set eyes on such a handsome chap. So she stared

and stared, and the longer she looked the handsomer he seemed. “Why what, by the Deil’s skin and bones, is it that you are

standing there gaping at out of the window?” said her husband. “I

think ’twould be better if you just looked how the sucking pig is getting

on, instead of hanging out of window in that way. Don’t you know what

grand folk we have in the house to-day?” “Oh!” said his old dame, “I don’t care a farthing about

such a pack of rubbish; if they don’t like it they may lump it, and be

off; but just do come and look at this lad out in the yard; so handsome a

fellow I never saw in all my born days; and, if you’ll do as I wish,

we’ll ask him to step in and treat him a little, for, poor lad, he seems

to have a hard fight of it.” “Have you lost the little brains you had, Goody?” said the husband,

whose eyes glistened with rage; “into the kitchen with you, and mind the

fire; but don’t stand there glowering after strange men.” So the wife had nothing left for it but to go into the kitchen, and look after

the cooking; as for the lad outside, she couldn’t get leave to ask him

in, or to treat him either; but just as she was about spitting the pig in the

kitchen, she made an excuse for running out into the yard, and then and there

she gave Boots a pair of scissors, of such a kind that they cut of themselves

out of the air the loveliest clothes any one ever saw, silk and satin, and all

that was fine. “This you shall have because you are so handsome,” said the

innkeeper’s wife. So when the two elder brothers had crammed themselves with roast and boiled,

they wished to be off again, and Boots had to stand behind their carriage, and

be their servant; and so they travelled a good way, till they came to another

inn. There the two brothers again alighted and went indoors, but Boots, who had

no money, they wouldn’t have inside with them; no, he must wait outside

and watch the luggage. “And mind”, they said, “if any one

asks whose servant you are, say we are two foreign Princes.” But the same thing happened now as happened before; while Boots stood hanging

about out in the yard, the innkeeper’s wife came to the window and saw

him, and she too fell in love with him, just like the first innkeeper’s

wife; and there she stood and stared, for she thought she could never have her

fill of looking at him. Then her husband came running through the room with

something the two Princes had ordered. “Don’t stand there staring like a cow at a barn-door, but take this

into the kitchen, and look after your fish-kettle, Goody”, said the man;

“don’t you see what grand people we have in the house

to-day?” “I don’t care a farthing for such a pack of rubbish”, said

the wife; “if they don’t like what they get they may lump it, and

eat what they brought with them. But just do come here, and see what you shall

see! Such a handsome fellow as walks here, out in the yard, I never saw in all

my born days. Shan’t we ask him in and treat him a little; he looks as if

he needed it, poor chap?” and then she went on: “Such a love! such a love!” “You never had much wit, and the little you had is clean gone, I can

see”, said the man, who was much more angry than the first innkeeper, and

chased his wife back, neck and crop, into the kitchen. “Into the kitchen with you, and don’t stand glowering after

lads”, he said. So she had to go in and mind her fish-kettle, and she dared not treat Boots,

for she was afraid of her old man; but as she stood there making up the fire,

she made an excuse for running out into the yard, and then and there she gave

Boots a table-cloth, which was such that it covered itself with the best dishes

you could think of, as soon as it was spread out. “This you shall have”, she said, “because you’re so

handsome.” So when the two brothers had eaten and drank of all that was in the house, and

had paid the bill in hard cash, they set off again, and Boots stood up behind

their carriage. But when they had gone so far that they grew hungry again, they

turned into a third inn, and called for the best and dearest they could think

of. “For”, said they, “we are two kings on our travels, and as

for our money, it grows like grass.” Well, when the innkeeper heard that, there was such a roasting, and baking, and

boiling; why! you might smell the dinner at the next neighbour’s house,

though it wasn’t so very near; and the innkeeper was at his wits’

end to find all he wished to put before the two kings. But Boots, he had to

stand outside here too, and look after the things in the carriage. So it was the same story over again. The innkeeper’s wife came to the

window and peeped out, and there she saw the servant standing by the carriage.

Such a handsome chap she had never set eyes on before; so she looked and

looked, and the more she stared the handsomer he seemed to the

innkeeper’s wife. Then out came the innkeeper, scampering through the

room, with some dainty which the travelling kings had ordered, and he

wasn’t very soft-tongued when he saw his old dame standing and glowering

out of the window. “Don’t you know better than to stand gaping and staring there, when

we have such great folk in the house”, he said; “back into the

kitchen with you this minute, to your custards.” “Well! well!” she said, “as for them, I don’t care a

pin. If they can’t wait till the custards are baked, they may go

without—that’s all. But do, pray, come here, and you’ll see

such a lovely lad standing out here in the yard. Why I never saw such a pretty

fellow in my life. Shan’t we ask him in now, and treat him a little, for

he looks as if it would do him good. Oh! what a darling! What a darling!” “A wanton gadabout you’ve been all your days, and so you are

still”, said her husband, who was in such a rage he scarce knew which leg

to stand on; “but if you don’t be off to your custards this minute,

I’ll soon find out how to make you stir your stumps; see if I

don’t.” So the wife had off to her custards as fast as she could, for she knew that her

husband would stand no nonsense; but as she stood there over the fire she stole

out into the yard, and gave Boots a tap. “If you only turn this tap”, she said; “you’ll get the

finest drink of whatever kind you choose, both mead, and wine, and brandy; and

this you shall have because you are so handsome.” So when the two brothers had eaten and drunk all they could, they started from

the inn, and Boots stood up behind again as their servant, and thus they drove

far and wide, till they came to a king’s palace. There the two elder gave

themselves out for two emperor’s sons, and as they had plenty of money,

and were so fine that their clothes shone again ever so far off, they were well

treated. They had rooms in the palace, and the king couldn’t tell how to

make enough of them. But Boots, who went about in the same rags he stood in

when he left home, and who had never a penny in his pocket, he was taken up by

the king’s guard, and put across to an island, whither they used to row

over all the beggars and rogues that came to the palace. This the king had

ordered, because he wouldn’t have the mirth at the palace spoilt by those

dirty blackguards; and thither, too, only just as much food as would keep body

and soul together was sent over everyday. Now Boots’ brothers saw very

well that the guard was rowing him over to the island, but they were glad to be

rid of him, and didn’t pay the least heed to him. But when Boots got over there, he just pulled out his scissors and began to

snip and cut in the air; so the scissors cut out the finest clothes any one

would wish to see; silk and satin both, and all the beggars on the island were

soon dressed far finer than the king and all his guests in the palace. After

that, Boots pulled out his table-cloth, and spread it out, and so they got

food too, the poor beggars. Such a feast had never been seen at the

king’s palace, as was served that day at the Beggars’ Isle. “Thirsty, too, I’ll be bound you all are”, said Boots, and

out with his tap, gave it a turn, and so the beggars got all a drop to drink;

and such ale and mead the king himself had never tasted in all his life. So, next morning, when those who were to bring the beggars their food on the

island, came rowing over with the scrapings of the porridge-pots and

cheese-parings—that was what the poor wretches had—the beggars

wouldn’t so much as taste them, and the king’s men fell to

wondering what it could mean; but they wondered much more when they got a good

look at the beggars, for they were so fine the guard thought they must be

Emperors or Popes at least, and that they must have rowed to a wrong island;

but when they looked better about them, they saw they were come to the old

place. Then they soon found out it must be he whom they had rowed out the day before

who had brought the beggars on the island all this state and bravery; and as

soon as they got back to the palace, they were not slow to tell how the man,

whom they had rowed over the day before, had dressed out all the beggars so

fine and grand that precious things fell from their clothes. “And as for the porridge and cheese we took, they wouldn’t even

taste them, so proud have they got”, they said. One of them, too, had smelt out that the lad had a pair of scissors which he

cut out the clothes with. “When he only snips with those scissors up in the air he snips and cuts

out nothing but silk and satin”, said he. So, when the Princess heard that, she had neither peace nor rest till she saw

the lad and his scissors that cut out silk and satin from the air; such a pair

was worth having, she thought, for with its help she would soon get all the

finery she wished for. Well, she begged the king so long and hard, he was

forced to send a messenger for the lad who owned the scissors; and when he came

to the palace, the Princess asked him if it were true that he had such and such

a pair of scissors, and if he would sell it to her. Yes, it was all true he had

such a pair, said Boots, but sell it he wouldn’t; and with that he took

the scissors out of his pocket, and snipped and snipped with them in the air

till strips of silk and satin flew all about him. “Nay, but you must sell me these scissors”, said the Princess.

“You may ask what you please for them, but have them I must.” No! Such a pair of scissors he wouldn’t sell at any price, for he could

never get such a pair again; and while they stood and haggled for the scissors,

the Princess had time to look better at Boots, and she too thought with the

innkeepers’ wives that she had never seen such a handsome fellow before.

So she began to bargain for the scissors over again, and begged and prayed

Boots to let her have them; he might ask many, many hundred dollars for them,

’twas all the same to her, so she got them. “No! sell them I won’t”, said Boots; “but all the same,

if I can get leave to sleep one night on the floor of the Princess’

bedroom, close by the door, I’ll give her the scissors. I’ll do her

no harm, but if she’s afraid, she may have two men to watch inside the

room.” Yes! the Princess was glad enough to give him leave, for she was ready to grant

him anything if she only got the scissors. So Boots lay on the floor inside the

Princess’ bedroom that night, and two men stood watch there too; but the

Princess didn’t get much rest after all; for when she ought to have been

asleep, she must open her eyes to look at Boots, and so it went on the whole

night. If she shut her eyes for a minute, she peeped out at him again the next,

such a handsome fellow he seemed to her to be. Next morning Boots was rowed over to the Beggars’ isle again; but when

they came with the porridge scrapings and cheese parings from the palace, there

was no one who would taste them that day either, and so those who brought the

food were more astonished than ever. But one of those who brought the food

contrived to smell out that the lad who had owned the scissors owned also a

table-cloth, which he only needed to spread out, and it was covered with all

the good things he could wish for. So when he got back to the palace, he

wasn’t long before he said: “Such hot joints and such custards I never saw the like of in the

king’s palace.” And when the Princess heard that, she told it to the king, and begged and

prayed so long, that he was forced to send a messenger out to the island to

fetch the lad who owned the table-cloth; and so Boots came back to the palace.

The Princess must and would have the cloth of him, and offered him gold and

green woods for it, but Boots wouldn’t sell it at any price. “But if I may have leave to lie on the bench by the Princess’

bed-side to-night, she shall have the cloth; but if she’s afraid, she is

welcome to set four men to watch inside the room.” Yes! the Princess agreed to this, so Boots lay down on the bench by the

bed-side, and the four men watched; but if the Princess hadn’t much sleep

the night before, she had much less this, for she could scarce get a wink of

sleep; there she lay wide awake looking at the lovely lad the whole night

through, and after all, the night seemed too short. Next morning Boots was rowed off again to the Beggars’ island, though

sorely against the Princess’ will, so happy was she to be near him; but

it was past praying for; to the island he must go, and there was an end of it.

But when those who brought the food to the beggars came with the porridge

scrapings and cheese parings, there wasn’t one of them who would even

look at what the king sent, and those who brought it didn’t wonder

either; though they all thought it strange that none of them were thirsty. But

just then, one of the king’s guard smelled out that the lad who had owned

the scissors and the table-cloth had a tap besides, which, if one only turned

it a little, gave out the rarest drink, both ale, and mead, and wine. So when

he came back to the palace, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time any

more than before; he went about telling high and low about the tap, and how

easy it was to draw all sorts of drink out of it. “And as for that mead and ale, I’ve never tasted the like of them

in the king’s palace; honey and syrup are nothing to them for

sweetness.” So when the Princess heard that, she was all for getting the tap, and was

nothing loath to strike a bargain with the owner either. So she went again to

the king, and begged him to send a messenger to the Beggars’ Isle after

the lad who had owned the scissors and cloth, for now he had another thing

worth having, she said; and when the king heard it was a tap, that was good to

give the best ale and wine any one could drink, when one gave it a turn, he

wasn’t long in sending the messenger, I should think. So when Boots came up to the palace, the Princess asked whether it were true he

had a tap which could do such and such things? “Yes! he had such a tap in

his waistcoat pocket”, said Boots; but when the Princess wished with all

her might to buy it, Boots said, as he had said twice before, he wouldn’t

sell it, even if the Princess bade half the kingdom for it. “But all the same”, said Boots; “if I may have leave to sleep

on the Princess’ bed to-night, outside the quilt, she shall have my tap.

I’ll not do her any harm; but, if she’s afraid, she may set eight

men to watch in her room.” “Oh, no!” said the Princess, “there was no need of that, she

knew him now so well”; and so Boots lay outside the Princess’ bed

that night. But if she hadn’t slept much the two nights before, she had

less sleep that night; for she couldn’t shut her eyes the livelong night,

but lay and looked at Boots, who lay alongside her outside the quilt. So, when she got up in the morning, and they were going to row Boots back to

the island, she begged them to hold hard a little bit; and in she ran to the

king, and begged him so prettily to let her have Boots for a husband, she was

so fond of him, and, unless she had him, she did not care to live. “Well, well!” said the king, “you shall have him if you must;

for he who has such things is just as rich as you are.” So Boots got the Princess and half the kingdom—the other half he was to

have when the king died; and so everything went smooth and well; but as for his

brothers, who had always been so bad to him, he packed them off to the

Beggars’ island. “There”, said Boots, “perhaps they may find out which is best

off, the man who has his pockets full of money, or the man whom all women fall

in love with.” Nor, to tell you the truth, do I think it would help them much to wander about

upon the Beggars’ island pulling pieces of money out of their pockets;

and so, if Boots hasn’t taken them off the island, there they are still

walking about to this very day, eating cheese-parings and the scrapings of the

porridge-pots.