Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales: Twenty Tales Illustrated by Harry Clarke Read online

“THERE SAT THE DOG WITH EYES AS BIG AS TEACUPS”

  That night, the queen tied a small silk bag filled with flour to the princess’s waist and snipped a tiny hole in one corner. When the dog came to carry the sleeping princess to the soldier it did not notice the trail of flour that led straight to the soldier’s door. Next morning, the king and queen discovered immediately where the princess had been. The soldier was seized and sentenced to death.

  The soldier sat miserably in his cell wondering how to escape, especially as he had left the magic tinder box behind. Through the bars, he saw the crowds hurrying to watch his execution. He heard drums beating and soldiers marching. Suddenly a boy ran by so fast that one of his shoes flew off, hitting the wall under the cell window.

  “Slow down,” called the soldier. “The execution can’t happen without me! If you want to earn four silver coins, go and fetch my tinder box.” The boy ran off, and came back to pass it through the bars of the window. Then the soldiers came and marched the soldier through the streets and out of the town. A huge crowd surrounded the execution platform, and the king and queen sat on magnificent thrones. But before the executioner put the rope around his neck, the soldier called out, “Your majesty, please let me light my pipe for the last time!”

  The king could not bring himself to refuse a dying wish, so the soldier struck the tinder box – once, twice, three times! Immediately there appeared the dog with eyes as big as teacups, the dog with eyes as big as mill-wheels and the dog whose spinning eyes were as large as towers.

  “Save me from death!” yelled the soldier.

  The dogs hurled the king and queen into the air and attacked the ministers. The terrified crowd cried out: “Stop them, good soldier. Have mercy. Marry the beautiful princess and be our king!”

  The crowd carried the soldier shoulder-high and placed him in the royal carriage. The three dogs ran in front and the people followed, while the soldiers saluted.

  The princess was freed from the great stone castle and she happily married the soldier. At the wedding feast, the three dogs sat at the table with the guests, staring with their enormous eyes.

  GREAT CLAUS AND LITTLE CLAUS

  Once upon a time, two men called Claus lived in the same village. One of them had four horses and the other just one horse. It was hard to tell them apart, so the people of the village called the man with four horses Great Claus and the other man Little Claus.

  During the week, Little Claus was obliged to plough for Great Claus and to lend him his only horse. On Sundays, Great Claus helped out Little Claus by lending him his four horses. How excited was Little Claus! He cracked his whip over the five horses each Sunday, for they were as good as his for the day. As the church bells rang and the people listened to the priest, Little Claus was out in the fields cracking his whip and shouting, “Gee up, all my five horses!”

  This didn’t please Great Claus at all, “You mustn’t say that!”, he cried, “for only one of the horses is yours!”

  But when no one was looking Little Claus would forget himself and shout again, “Gee up, all my horses!”

  Great Claus was so upset that he screamed, “I beg you not to say that again, for if you say it again, I shall hit your horse on the head and he’ll fall down dead!”

  Little Claus apologised, “I’ll certainly not say that ever again!” he said.

  But as people walked past after church, and nodded “Good afternoon” to him, he became very proud of the horses he imagined to be his and cracked his whip again, and cried, “Gee up, all my horses!”

  Great Claus was so mad, he said, “I’ll gee up your horses!”

  He grabbed his axe, hit Little Claus’s horse on the head and it was dead in an instant.

  “Oh my! Now I have no horse at all!” cried Little Claus. And he began to cry.

  He then cut off the horse’s skin and let the hide dry in the wind before putting it in a sack. He marched off to town to sell the skin. On the way, he went through a dark wood, where the weather became bad and he lost his way. It was nightfall by the time he found the right path and he was too far from home to return that night.

  There was a large farmhouse close by the road. The shutters were closed, but he could see a light inside.

  “Perhaps I could stop here for the night,” he thought, then knocked on the door.

  The farmer’s wife opened the door, but she wouldn’t let him in as her husband was away. She slammed the door in his face, so he found a little thatched outhouse. The straw thatch looked very inviting, but then he noticed a stork had made a nest on the roof.

  Little Claus climbed up to the loft of the shed and made himself comfortable. From up here, he could peer into the farmer’s dining room. He couldn’t help but notice a huge table, laid with fine cloth and heaving with fish, meat and wine and a clerk sat ready for dinner.

  The farmer’s wife and the clerk were having a merry time, eating all the delicious food and drinking the wine.

  “If only I could have some too!” thought Little Claus, as he stretched his head out of the window. “What a feast!”

  He heard the clip-clop of a horse coming along the lane. It was the farmer’s husband. He was a good man, but he had a real dislike for clerks! If ever he saw a clerk, he got very angry.

  It was for this reason that the clerk had gone to visit his wife on this day, for he knew that the farmer would be out.

  As soon as the pair of them heard her husband, they became frightened.

  “Quick! into the empty chest,” cried the farmer’s wife, before hiding all the excellent food and wine. Little Claus watched the scene unfold before him, just as the farmer caught sight of him and said, “Hey! Who’s that sleeping up there?”

  Little Claus explained how he had lost his way and needed somewhere to sleep for the night.

  “Well my fellow, come inside into the warm and have something to eat,” exclaimed the farmer.

  His wife received them both warmly and soon had a big bowl of hot porridge on the table. The porridge was fine, but Little Claus couldn’t help thinking about all the delicious food that had been hidden.

  His sack with the horse’s skin was under his feet. He couldn’t bear any more porridge, so he stood on the skin and made it crackle.

  “Why, what have you in your sack?” asked the farmer.

  “Oh, that’s just a magician,” answered Little Claus. “He says that we’re not to eat porridge, but to feast upon the oven full of meat, fish and cake that he has conjured up!”

  “Wonderful!” cried the farmer, as he opened the oven to find the delicious food that he imagined the wizard had produced.

  The farmer’s wife dared not say a word. Little Claus trod again upon his sack and made the hide creak.

  “What does he say now?” asked the farmer?

  “He says he has conjured three bottles of wine and that they are standing there behind the oven!” replied Little Claus. The two men drank the wine and soon became very merry.

  “I’d like to see that magician of yours!” roared the farmer.

  “Very well,” said Little Claus and trod again upon the sack. As it crackled he said, “He tells me that he’s very ugly and doesn’t want to be seen.”

  “Well,” said the farmer, “I’m not afraid. Pray, what will he look like?”

  “He’s the spitting image of a clerk!” exclaimed Little Claus.

  “Ha!” said the farmer. “Now, that is ugly! I have to tell you that I can’t bear the sight of a clerk!”

  Little Claus stepped on his sack once again and the hide rustled. “My magician tells me that you may open the chest, whereupon you will find a demon that looks like a clerk!”

  “Very well,” said the farmer, “But you must hold the lid so he doesn’t get out.”

  The farmer inched open the lid of the trunk containing the real clerk.

  “Ha!” he cried and sprang backwards. “He looks just like our clerk – that was dreadful!”

  So they sat up together late into the ni
ght, drinking all the wine.

  “You must sell me your conjurer,” said the farmer. “I’ll give you a whole barrel of money.”

  “That I can’t do,” said Little Claus. “Think how much I can make out of this conjurer.”

  “Oh, I should so much like to have this magician!” pleaded the farmer and he went on begging.

  After a time, Little Claus said, “As you have been kind to give me shelter for the night, I will let it be so. But I must have the barrel heaped with money.”

  “It’s yours!” replied the farmer, “but you must take the chest away with you. I don’t want it here another hour!”

  Little Claus gave the farmer his sack with the dry hide in it, and got in exchange a barrel with money heaped up. The farmer also gave him a cart, on which to carry his money and the chest.

  “Farewell!” said Little Claus and off he went with his riches.

  On the other side of the wood there was a deep river with a fine new bridge. As he got to the middle of the bridge, he said out loud so that the clerk could hear, “Oh, what shall I do with this stupid chest? It’s as heavy as lead and so I’ll throw it in the river!”

  He lifted the chest, as if to throw it in the river, when the Clerk screamed out, “No! Let me out!”

  “Huh!” exclaimed Little Claus, pretending to be frightened. “He’s still in there – if I’m quick I can throw him in the river and he’ll drown!”

  “If you let me out, I’ll give you a barrel full of money!” yelled the clerk.

  “Well, that’s fine by me!” said Little Claus, and let him out of the chest right away.

  The clerk ran to his house and fetched the barrel of money. Little Claus was soon on his way in his new cart, laden with riches.

  “See, I’ve been well paid for the horse,” he said to himself. He got home and tipped all the coins into the middle of the room. “That will upset Great Claus when he hears how rich I have become, but I won’t tell him the whole story.”

  He sent a boy to Great Claus to ask for a measuring jug.

  “Mmm...” thought Great Claus to himself, “what can he want this for?” So he smeared some tar under the jug so that whatever was to be measured would stick underneath. Sure enough, three brand new eight-shilling pieces were stuck to the jug when it was returned by the boy.

  “What’s this?” cried Great Claus. He ran off at once to see Little Claus. “Where did you get all this money?”

  “I got it for my horse’s skin,” replied Little Claus.

  Off went Great Claus to fetch his axe. He soon killed all four of his horses and cut off their skins to sell them in the town.

  “Hides! Hides! Who will buy my hides?” he cried through the streets.

  All the shoemakers and tanners came running to ask how much he wanted for them.

  “A barrel of money for each!” said Great Claus.

  “Are you mad?” they said. “Do you think we have money by the barrel?” All the tanners and shoemakers got together and decided that Great Claus was making fools of them and must be taught a lesson, so they beat him with strips of leather.

  “WHERE DID YOU GET ALL THAT MONEY FROM?”

  “Hides! Hides!” they called after him. “Yes, we’ll tan your hide for you!” They chased after him until all were exhausted.

  Great Claus reached his house and vowed to kill Little Claus.

  At Little Claus’s home, his grandmother had died. She had been harsh and unkind to him his whole life, but he was very sad nonetheless and carried her limp body to his warm bed in case the warmth would revive her. He tucked her up and sat in the chair beside the door and looked over her. As he sat there all night, the door opened and in marched Great Claus with his axe. He reached up and hit the grandmother on the head, thinking all the while that it was Little Claus in his bed.

  “Do you see, Little Claus, that you shall not make a fool of me!”

  Little Claus watched in horror as Great Claus attacked the already dead old woman. He sat silently and waited until Great Claus had gone. He dressed his grandmother in her Sunday best, borrowed a neighbour’s horse and harnessed it to a cart. He propped her up in the front seat and off they trotted through the woods, stopping at an inn for refreshment.

  The landlord was a hot-tempered fellow and very wealthy. Little Claus went inside the inn, leaving his grandmother propped up as if she were alive. The landlord poured a drink for Little Claus, then asked after his grandmother. Little Claus explained that she didn’t want to come inside, so the landlord took her a glass of mead.

  “Speak up, for she can’t hear very well!” called Little Claus to the landlord as he walked out to the carriage.

  “Here’s a glass of mead from your grandson,” said the landlord. The grandmother said not a word, so the landlord said again, “Here’s a glass of mead from your grandson!” But she didn’t reply. The landlord repeated himself three times again as loud as he could, getting crosser each time. At last he became very angry and threw the glass in her face so that the mead ran down her nose and she fell backwards into the cart!

  “See what you’ve done!” screamed Little Claus. “You’ve killed her!” The landlord looked in horror!

  “Dear Little Claus, this comes all of my hot temper!” said the landlord. “I’ll give you a barrel full of money to keep quiet!” So Little Claus received another barrel of coins and the landlord buried the grandmother as if she had been his own.

  Little Claus returned home and sent the boy again to fetch a measuring jug from Great Claus.

  “What’s this?” exclaimed Great Claus. “Have I not killed him?” And so he went over himself to see Little Claus with the jug.

  “Now where did you get all that money from?” he asked as his eyes opened wide at the sight of it all.

  “You killed my grandmother and not me,” replied Little Claus, “and I have sold her for a barrel of money.”

  “That’s good money for little work,” said Great Claus. He hurried home, took an axe and killed his own grandmother. Then he put her in a carriage and drove to town to see the apothecary to ask if he would buy a dead person.

  “Who is it and where did you get her from?” asked the apothecary.

  “It’s my grandmother,” he answered. “I’ve killed her to get a barrel of money!”

  “Heavens above!” exclaimed the apothecary, “You’re raving mad and the constable will come for you!”

  Great Claus unhitched a horse and galloped off as fast as he could to Little Claus’s house.

  “THAT’S A BAD FELLOW, THAT MAN”

  “You’ve tricked me again!” shouted Great Claus. “But not again.” He grabbed Little Claus and thrust him into a sack. “Now I shall go off with you and drown you in the river!”

  They passed a church along the way, where they heard the sound of beautiful hymns being sung. Great Claus left the sack outside while he went in to hear a psalm. Little Claus was stuck tight.

  “Oh dear!” he wailed, “I am too young to go to heaven.”

  An elderly cattle drover was passing by with his herd and heard him and said, “And I, poor fellow, am so old already, and can’t get there yet!”

  After a while, the elderly drover agreed to take the place of Little Claus, as he was anxious to get to heaven. Great Claus came out of the church and carried the sack to the river, whereupon he threw it into the water.

  “Good riddance!” he cried and walked back along the track. But whom should he meet minding the cattle than Little Claus!

  “But I just drowned you in the river!” he said with disbelief. “And how did you get those fine cattle?”

  Little Claus explained patiently that when he fell to the bottom of the river in the sack, it immediately split open and a little mermaid appeared. She told him of a great white herd of cattle along the river and of untold wealth and happiness ahead. Whereupon she vanished and Little Claus found himself beside the river with a herd of magnificent cattle of untold value.

  Great Claus listened intent
ly and said, “Oh, you are a fortunate man! I too would like such a journey to meet the little mermaid and to find untold wealth. Will you help me into a sack and the river beyond?” he asked Little Claus. “Oh, and please add a rock to weigh me down so that I reach the bottom quickly.”

  “Of course, I will throw you in with great pleasure!” said Little Claus. So he bound him into a sack with a heavy rock and struggled down to the river, where he threw him into the running water.

  The sack sank quickly and Great Claus was never seen again. Little Claus drove homeward with what he had.

  THUMBELINA

  Once upon a time, there was a woman who wished that she could have a child. She went to an old witch and said, “I wish I could have a child! Can you tell me how to get one?”

  “I’m sure I can help,” said the witch. “Take this barleycorn. It’s not like the corn that grows in the fields, or like the corn that the chickens eat. Put it in a flower-pot and see what happens.”

  “Thank you,” said the woman. She gave the witch twelve coins to pay her for the corn and she set off for home.

  When the woman arrived home she planted the barleycorn. Instantly it grew into a beautiful flower. It looked like a tulip, but the leaves were closed tight like a bud.

  “What a delightful flower,” said the woman, and she kissed its yellow and red leaves. But as she kissed the flower it opened with a pop. In the middle of the flower, sat on the green velvet stamens, was the most delicate and graceful young girl. She was only half a thumb in height and so the woman named her Thumbelina.

  The woman made a bed for Thumbelina out of a polished walnut shell, using violet leaves for the mattress and a rose leaf for a blanket. In the daytime, Thumbelina played on the kitchen table while the woman sewed. On the table sat a round, shallow vase of tulips and Thumbelina liked to sit on one of the tulip leaves that swam on the surface of the water. She would row from one side to the other, using two white horsehairs for oars. While she was rowing she would sing songs in the sweetest and most delicate voice that has ever been heard.