The Valiant Little Tailor

								
One summer’s morning a little tailor was sitting on his table by the
window; he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his might. Then came
a peasant woman down the street crying: ‘Good jams, cheap! Good jams,
cheap!’ This rang pleasantly in the tailor’s ears; he stretched his
delicate head out of the window, and called: ‘Come up here, dear woman;
here you will get rid of your goods.’ The woman came up the three steps
to the tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all the pots
for him. He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it, and
at length said: ‘The jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me out four
ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound that is of no
consequence.’ The woman who had hoped to find a good sale, gave him
what he desired, but went away quite angry and grumbling. ‘Now, this jam
shall be blessed by God,’ cried the little tailor, ‘and give me health
and strength’; so he brought the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself
a piece right across the loaf and spread the jam over it. ‘This won’t
taste bitter,’ said he, ‘but I will just finish the jacket before I
take a bite.’ He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy, made
bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam
rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers, and they were
attracted and descended on it in hosts. ‘Hi! who invited you?’ said the
little tailor, and drove the unbidden guests away. The flies, however,
who understood no German, would not be turned away, but came back
again in ever-increasing companies. The little tailor at last lost all
patience, and drew a piece of cloth from the hole under his work-table,
and saying: ‘Wait, and I will give it to you,’ struck it mercilessly on
them. When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him no fewer
than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. ‘Are you a fellow of that
sort?’ said he, and could not help admiring his own bravery. ‘The whole
town shall know of this!’ And the little tailor hastened to cut himself
a girdle, stitched it, and embroidered on it in large letters: ‘Seven at
one stroke!’ ‘What, the town!’ he continued, ‘the whole world shall hear
of it!’ and his heart wagged with joy like a lamb’s tail. The tailor
put on the girdle, and resolved to go forth into the world, because he
thought his workshop was too small for his valour. Before he went away,
he sought about in the house to see if there was anything which he could
take with him; however, he found nothing but an old cheese, and that
he put in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a bird which
had caught itself in the thicket. It had to go into his pocket with the
cheese. Now he took to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble,
he felt no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and when he had
reached the highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking
peacefully about him. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him,
and said: ‘Good day, comrade, so you are sitting there overlooking the
wide-spread world! I am just on my way thither, and want to try my luck.
Have you any inclination to go with me?’ The giant looked contemptuously
at the tailor, and said: ‘You ragamuffin! You miserable creature!’

‘Oh, indeed?’ answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and
showed the giant the girdle, ‘there may you read what kind of a man I
am!’ The giant read: ‘Seven at one stroke,’ and thought that they had
been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a little respect
for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to try him first, and took
a stone in his hand and squeezed it together so that water dropped out
of it. ‘Do that likewise,’ said the giant, ‘if you have strength.’ ‘Is
that all?’ said the tailor, ‘that is child’s play with us!’ and put his
hand into his pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until
the liquid ran out of it. ‘Faith,’ said he, ‘that was a little better,
wasn’t it?’ The giant did not know what to say, and could not believe it
of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high
that the eye could scarcely follow it. ‘Now, little mite of a man, do
that likewise,’ ‘Well thrown,’ said the tailor, ‘but after all the stone
came down to earth again; I will throw you one which shall never come
back at all,’ and he put his hand into his pocket, took out the bird,
and threw it into the air. The bird, delighted with its liberty,
rose, flew away and did not come back. ‘How does that shot please you,
comrade?’ asked the tailor. ‘You can certainly throw,’ said the giant,
‘but now we will see if you are able to carry anything properly.’ He
took the little tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay there felled on
the ground, and said: ‘If you are strong enough, help me to carry the
tree out of the forest.’ ‘Readily,’ answered the little man; ‘take you
the trunk on your shoulders, and I will raise up the branches and twigs;
after all, they are the heaviest.’ The giant took the trunk on his
shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the giant, who
could not look round, had to carry away the whole tree, and the little
tailor into the bargain: he behind, was quite merry and happy, and
whistled the song: ‘Three tailors rode forth from the gate,’ as if
carrying the tree were child’s play. The giant, after he had dragged the
heavy burden part of the way, could go no further, and cried: ‘Hark
you, I shall have to let the tree fall!’ The tailor sprang nimbly down,
seized the tree with both arms as if he had been carrying it, and said
to the giant: ‘You are such a great fellow, and yet cannot even carry
the tree!’

They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant laid
hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it
down, gave it into the tailor’s hand, and bade him eat. But the little
tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it go,
it sprang back again, and the tailor was tossed into the air with it.

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