Selected Tales of the Brothers Grimm(47)

When All-Kind-of-Hide came up, the king asked, “Who are you?”

“I am a poor child forsaken by father and mother.”

“What are you doing in my castle?” he asked.

“I’m good for nothing but to have boots hurled at my head.”

“Where did you get the ring I found in my soup?” he sounded her out.

Whereto she replied, “I know nothing of the ring.”

Frustrated, the king sent her away.

Time passed and the king once again threw a party. As before, All-Kind-of-Hide asked the cook’s permission to take a peek.

“Yes,” said the cook, “but be back in half an hour to boil up the bread soup that the king likes so much.”

So she ran to her little cubbyhole, washed herself up lickety-split, and took from the nutshell and donned the dress as silvery as the moon. Then she went up, resplendent as a princess, and the king came toward her, glad to see her again, and as the ball was just starting they danced together. But when the dance was done she disappeared so fast the king had no idea where she went. She scampered back to her little cubbyhole, made herself back up as the wild child, and went to the kitchen to boil up the bread soup. Once the cook was out of sight, she fetched the golden spinning wheel, dropped it in the bowl, and poured the soup all over it. Whereupon the soup was served to the king, who ate it, and he liked it as much as he had the last time. So he once again called for the cook, who once again had to confess that it was All-Kind-of-Hide who had boiled it up. And again she appeared before the king, but she replied that she was good for nothing but to have boots hurled at her head, and that she knew nothing of the golden spinning wheel.

When the king threw a third party, things went pretty much the same as they had before. Though this time the cook said, “You must be a witch, wild child, always adding something to the soup that makes it taste better to the king than what I cook him.” But because she pleaded with him, he finally let her go up for a short time to take a peek at the party. This time she put on her dress that was as sparkling as the stars and, so attired, strode into the ballroom. Again the king danced with the lovely maiden and thought that she looked lovelier than ever. And mid-dance, without her noticing it, he slipped a golden ring onto her finger, and he ordered that the dance last a long while. Once the dance was done, he wanted to hold her fast in his hands, but she tore herself free of his grip and leapt so quickly among the other guests that she disappeared before his very eyes. She ran as fast as she could to her little cubbyhole beneath the stairs, but because she’d stayed away so long, more than the half-hour leave the cook had allowed her, she had no time to take off the lovely gown but just drew her coat of many hides over it, and in her haste she failed to apply enough soot, leaving one finger white. In this state All-Kind-of-Hide ran to the kitchen, cooked the king his bread soup, and once the cook was gone, dropped the little golden reel in the soup. When the king found it at the bottom of his bowl he called for All-Kind-of-Hide – whereupon he spotted the white finger and the gold ring he’d slipped on it during the dance. So he grabbed hold of her hand and held it tight, and when she struggled to break free, the coat of many hides split open and the dress that was as sparkling as the stars shimmered forth. The king grabbed hold of the coat and tore it off. Whereupon her golden hair spilled out, and she stood there in all her beauty and could no longer disguise herself. And once she had wiped all the soot and ash from her face, she was lovelier than ever there was a woman on earth.

Then the king said, “You are my beloved bride, and we will never again part.” Then the wedding was celebrated, and they lived happily together until their dying day.





THE SEVEN RAVENS





A man had seven sons and still not a single little daughter, as much as he hoped for one. At last his wife announced that she was once again expecting, and when the child was born, it was indeed a girl. The father’s joy was great, but the child was frail and small, and on account of her frailty was to be baptized posthaste lest she die. The father bid one of his sons rush to the well to fetch water for the baptism The other six ran after him, and because each of them wanted to be the first to draw the water, they dropped the jug into the well. Whereupon they stood around, not knowing what to do, and not a one dared go home. When they didn’t show up, the father grew impatient and said, “I’ll bet they got caught up in a game and forgot, the godless lads.” He was afraid the girl would die before being baptized, and in his anger he cried out, “I wish those no-good boys would all turn into ravens!” No sooner were the words spoken than he heard a crowing in the sky overhead, looked up, and saw seven coal-black ravens fly away.