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The Wishing-Table, the Gold-Ass, and the Cudgel in the
Sack
Tales Collected by the Brothers Grimm
There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
only one goat. But as the goat supported the whole of them with
her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken
every day to pasture. The sons, therefore, did this, in turn. Once the eldest
took her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found,
and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time to
go home he asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and took hold of the cord
round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely.
"Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had as much food as she
ought?" "Oh," answered the son, "she has eaten so much, not a
leaf more she'll touch." But the father wished to satisfy himself,
and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal and asked,
"Goat, art thou satisfied?" The goat answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"What do I hear?" cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the
youth, "Hollo, thou liar: thou saidest the goat had had enough, and hast let her hunger!" and in
his anger he took the yard-measure from the wall, and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked out for a place
in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and
the goat cleared them all off. At night when he wanted to go home,
he asked, "Goat, art thou satisfied?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her home, and tied her
up in the stable. "Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had as
much food as she ought?" "Oh," answered the son, "she has eaten
so much, not a leaf more she'll touch." The tailor would not rely
on this, but went down to the stable and said, "Goat, hast thou had
enough?" The goat answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"The godless wretch!" cried the tailor, "to let such a good animal
hunger," and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the
yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do the thing well, and sought out some
bushes with the finest leaves, and let the
goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he
asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her into the stable, and
tied her up. "Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had a proper amount of food?" "She has
eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll
touch." The tailor did not trust to that, but went down and asked, "Goat,
hast thou had enough?" The wicked beast answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
"Oh, the brood of liars!" cried the tailor, "each as wicked and
forgetful of his duty as the other! Ye shall no longer make a
fool of me," and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs
and belabored the poor young fellow so vigorously with the
yard-measure that he sprang out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he
went down into the stable, caressed the goat and said, "Come, my
dear little animal, I will take thee to feed myself." He took her
by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil,
and whatever else goats like to eat. "There thou mayest for once eat to
thy heart's content," said he to her, and let her browse till
evening. Then he asked, "Goat, art thou satisfied?" She replied,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and
tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned round again and
said, "Well, art thou satisfied for once?" But the goat did not behave the better to him, and cried,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that
he had driven away his three sons without cause. "Wait, thou
ungrateful creature," cried he, "it is not enough to drive thee forth,
I will mark thee so that thou wilt no more dare to show thyself
amongst honest tailors." In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his
razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm
of his hand. And as the yard-measure would have been too good for
her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that
she ran away in violent haste.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into
great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no
one knew whither they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed
himself to a joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably,
and when the time came for him to go travelling, his master presented
him with a little table which had no particular appearance, and
was made of common wood, but it had one good property; if
anyone set it out, and said, "Little table, spread thyself," the good
little table was at once covered with a clean little cloth, and a
plate was there, and a knife and fork beside it, and dishes with
boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a
great glass of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad. The
young journeyman thought, "With this thou hast enough for thy
whole life," and went joyously about the world and never troubled
himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was
to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an
inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or
wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it
down before him, and said, "Cover thyself," and then everything
appeared that his heart desired. At length he took it into his head
to go back to his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and
who would now willingly receive him with his wishing-table. It came
to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an inn which
was filled with guests. They bade him welcome, and invited him to
sit and eat with them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in
getting anything. "No," answered the joiner, "I will not take the few
bites out of
your mouths; rather than that, you shall be my guests." They
laughed, and thought he was jesting with them; he, however, placed his
wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, "Little table,
cover thyself." Instantly it was covered with food, so good that
the host could never have procured it, and the smell of it
ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. "Fall to, dear
friends," said the joiner; and the guests when they saw that he
meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out
their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the
most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took
its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and
watched the affair; he did not at all know what to say, but
thought, "Thou couldst easily find a use for such a cook as that in thy kitchen." The joiner and
his comrades made merry until late
into the night; at length they lay down to sleep, and the young
apprentice also went to bed, and set his magic table against the
wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest; it
occurred to him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room
which looked just like the apprentice's and he brought it out quite softly,
and exchanged it for the wishing-table. Next morning,
the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never thinking
that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he
reached his father, who received him with great joy. "Well, my dear
son, what hast thou learnt?" said he to him. "Father, I have become
a joiner."
"A good trade," replied the old man; "but what hast thou brought
back with thee from thy apprenticeship?" "Father, the best thing
which I have brought back with me is this little table." The
tailor inspected it on all sides and said, "Thou didst not make a
masterpiece when thou mad'st that; it is a bad old table." "But it
is a table which furnishes itself," replied the son. "When I set it
out, and tell it to cover itself, the most beautiful dishes stand
on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just invite all
our relations and friends, they shall refresh and enjoy themselves
for once, for the table will give them all they require." When the
company was assembled, he put his table in the middle of the room and
said, "Little table,
cover thyself," but the little table did not bestir itself, and
remained just as bare as any other table which did not understand
language. Then the poor apprentice became aware that his table
had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a
liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and were forced to go
home without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his
patches again, and went on tailoring, but the son went to a
master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself
to him. When his years were over, the master said, "As thou
hast conducted thyself so well, I give thee an ass of a peculiar
kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack." "To what use is he put, then?" asked the
young apprentice. "He lets gold drop from his mouth," answered
the miller. "If thou settest him on a cloth and sayest 'Bricklebrit,'
the good animal will drop gold pieces for thee." "That is a fine thing," said the apprentice, and
thanked the
master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold,
he had only to say "Bricklebrit" to his ass, and it rained gold
pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground.
Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was good enough for
him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a full purse.
When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, "Thou
must seek out thy father; if thou goest to him with the gold-ass he
will forget his anger, and receive thee well." It came to pass
that he came to the same public-house in which his brother's table had been
exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was about
to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young
apprentice said, "Don't trouble yourself, I will take my grey
horse into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know
where he stands." This struck the host as odd, and he thought
that a man who was forced to look after his ass himself, could not
have much to spend; but when the stranger put his hand in his
pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he was to
provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes wide, and
ran and sought out the best he could muster. After dinner the
guest asked what he owed. The host did
not see why he should not double the reckoning, and said the
apprentice must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket,
but his gold was just at an end. "Wait an instant, sir host," said
he, "I will go and fetch some money;" but he took the table-cloth
with him. The host could not imagine what this could mean, and
being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted the stable-door, he peeped through a hole
left by a knot in the wood. The
stranger spread out the cloth under the animal and cried,
"Bricklebrit," and immediately the beast began to let gold pieces fall, so that it fairly rained
down
money on the
ground. "Eh, my word," said the host, "ducats are quickly coined
there! A purse like that is not amiss." The guest
paid his score, and went to bed, but in the night the host stole
down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and tied up
another ass in his place. Early next morning the apprentice travelled away with his ass,
and thought that he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his
father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in.
"What hast thou made of thyself, my son?" asked the old man.
"A miller," dear father, he answered. "What hast thou brought back
with thee from thy travels?" "Nothing else but an ass." "There are
asses enough here," said the father, "I would rather have had a good
goat." "Yes," replied the son, "but it is no common ass, but a
gold-ass, when I say 'Bricklebrit,' the good beast opens its mouth and drops a whole
sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our relations hither,
and I will make them rich folks." "That suits me well," said the
tailor, "for then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer
with the needle," and ran out himself and called the relations
together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade them
make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room.
"Now watch," said he, and cried, "Bricklebrit," but no gold pieces fell, and it was clear that the
animal knew nothing of the
art, for every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor
miller pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged
pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There
was no help for it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once
more, and the youth hired himself to a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that
is skilled labour, he was the longest in learning. His brothers,
however, told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them,
and how the innkeeper had cheated them of their beautiful
wishing-gifts on the last evening before they reached home. When
the turner had served his time, and had to set out on his travels,
as he had conducted himself so well, his master presented him with a
sack and said, "There is a cudgel in it." "I can put on the sack," said
he, "and it may be of good service to me, but why should the cudgel
be in it? It only makes it heavy." "I will tell thee why," replied
the master; "if any one has done anything to injure thee, do but say,
'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' and the cudgel will leap forth among the
people, and play such a dance on their backs that they will not be
able to stir or move for a week, and it will not leave off until
thou sayest, "Into the sack, Cudgel!" The apprentice thanked him, and
put the sack on his back, and when any one came too near him, and
wished to attack him, he said, "Out of the sack, Cudgel!" and
instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of
one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had
stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone
was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the
young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated. He laid his sack on the table
before him, and began to talk of all
the wonderful things which he had seen in the world. "Yes," said
he, "people may easily find a table which will cover itself, a
gold-ass, and things of that kind -- extremely good things which
I by no means despise -- but these are nothing in comparison with
the treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying about
with me in my sack there." The inn-keeper pricked up his ears,
"What in the world can that be?" thought he; "the sack must be filled
with nothing but jewels; I ought to get them cheap too, for all
good things go in threes." When it was time for sleep, the guest
stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him
for a pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest
was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled
quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly
draw it away and lay another in its place. The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a
long time, and
now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried,
"Out of the sack, Cudgel!" Instantly the little cudgel came forth,
and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing.
The host cried for mercy; but the louder he cried, so much more heavily the
cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the
ground exhausted. Then the turner said, "If thou dost not give back
the table which covers itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall
begin afresh." "Oh, no," cried the host, quite humbly, "I will gladly
produce everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into
the sack." Then said the apprentice, "I will let mercy take the
place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again!" So he
cried, "Into the sack, Cudgel!" and let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the
wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw
him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign
parts. "Dear father," said he, "I have become a turner." "A skilled
trade," said the father. "What hast thou brought back with thee from
thy travels?"
"A precious thing, dear father," replied the son, "a cudgel in the
sack."
"What!" cried the father, "a cudgel! That's worth thy
trouble, indeed! From every tree thou can cut thyself one." "But not one
like this, dear father. If I say, 'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' the
cudgel springs out and leads any one who means ill with me a weary
dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for
fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I got back the
wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish inn-keeper took
away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for, and invite
all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will
fill their pockets with gold into the bargain." The old tailor
would not quite believe, but nevertheless got the relatives
together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the
gold-ass, and said to his brother, "Now, dear brother, speak to him."
The miller said, "Bricklebrit," and instantly the gold pieces fell down on the cloth like a
thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop
until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see in thy face that thou
also wouldst like to be there.)
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, "Now dear
brother, speak to it." And scarcely had the carpenter said, "Table,
cover thyself," than it was spread and amply covered with the
most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good
tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole party of
kinsmen stayed together till far in the night, and were all merry
and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-measure
and goose, in a press, and lived with his three sons in joy and
splendour.
(What, however, has become of the goat who was to blame for the
tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell thee. She
was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and
crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great
eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away.
A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said,
"What is the matter with thee, brother Fox, why dost thou look like
that?" "Ah," answered Redskin, "a fierce beast is in my cave and stared
at me with its fiery eyes." "We will soon drive him out," said
the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in, but when
he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise; he would have
nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The
bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she said,
"Bear, thou art really pulling a very pitiful face; what has become
of all thy gaiety?" "It is all very well for thee to talk," replied
the bear, "a furious beast with staring eyes is in Redskin's house,
and we can't drive him out." The bee said, "Bear I pity thee, I am
a poor weak creature whom thou wouldst not turn aside to look at, but
still, I believe, I can help thee." She flew into the fox's cave,
lighted on the goat's smoothly-shorn head, and stung her so
violently, that she sprang up, crying "Meh, meh," and ran forth
into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she
has gone.)
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