TOM THUMB

THERE was once a poor peasant who sat one evening by the hearth and poked the fire, while his wife sat and spun. “How sad it is that we have no children!” he said. With us all is so quiet, and in other houses it is noisy and lively.”

“Yes,” replied the wife, and sighed. “Even if we had only one, and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.”

Now it so happened that the woman fell ill and after seven months gave birth to a child, who was perfect in all his limbs—but was no longer than a thumb.

Then said the man and his wife, “He is just as we wished him to be, and he shall be our dear child;” and because of his size, they called him Tom Thumb.

They did not let him want for food, but the child did not grow taller and remained as he had been at the first. Nevertheless, he looked intelligently at the world and soon showed himself to be a wise and nimble creature, for everything he did turned out well.

One day, the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut wood, when he said as if to himself, “How I wish that there was anyone who would bring the cart to me!”

“Oh, Father!” cried Tom Thumb. “I will soon bring the cart, rely on that; it shall be in the forest at the appointed time.”

The man smiled and said, “How can that be done? You are far too small to lead the horse by the reins.”

“That’s of no consequence, Father, if my mother will only harness it, I shall sit in the horse’s ear and call out to him how he is to go.”

“Well,” answered the man, “for once we will try it.”

When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse and placed Tom Thumb in its ear, and then the little creature cried, “Gee up, gee up!”

Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart went the right way into the forest. It so happened that just as the horse was turning a corner, and the little one was crying, “Gee up,” two strange men came toward him.

“My word!” said one of them. “What is this? There is a cart coming, and a driver is calling to the horse and still he is not to be seen!”

“That can’t be right,” said the other. “We will follow the cart and see where it stops.” The cart, however, drove right into the forest and exactly to the place where the wood had been cut. When Tom Thumb saw his father, he cried to him, “Look, Father, here I am with the cart; now take me down.” The father got hold of the horse with his left hand and with the right took his little son out of its ear. Tom Thumb sat down quite merrily upon a straw, but when the two strange men saw him, they did not know what to say for astonishment. Then one of them took the other aside and said, “Hark, the little fellow would make our fortune if we exhibited him in a large town for money. We will buy him.”

They went to the peasant and said, “Sell us the little man. He shall be well treated with us.”

“No,” replied the father, “he is the apple of my eye, and all the money in the world could not buy him from me.”

Tom Thumb, however, when he heard of the bargain, had crept up the folds of his father’s coat, placed himself upon his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Father, do give me away. I will soon come back again.” So the father parted with him to the two men for a handsome bit of money.

“Where would you like to sit?” they said to him.

“Oh, just set me upon the rim of your hat, and then I can walk backward and forward and look at the country, and still not fall down.”

They did as he wished, and when Tom Thumb had taken leave of his father, they went away with him. They walked until it was dusk, and then the little fellow said, “Do take me down. I want to come down!” The man hesitated at first, but finally took his hat off and put the little fellow upon the ground by the wayside. Tom Thumb crept about a little between the sods, until suddenly he slipped into a mousehole he had found. “Good evening, gentlemen, just go home without me!” he cried, laughing. The two men ran thither and stuck their sticks into the mousehole, but it was in vain. Tom Thumb crept still farther in, and as it soon became quite dark, the men were forced to go home with their vexation and their empty purses.

When Tom Thumb saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the subterranean passage. “It is so dangerous to walk on the ground in the dark,” said he; “how easily a neck or a leg is broken!” Fortunately he knocked against an empty snail shell. “Thank God!” said he. “In that I can pass the night in safety,” and he got into it.

Not long afterward, when he was just going to sleep, he heard two men go by, and one of them was saying, “How shall we contrive to get hold of the rich pastor’s silver and gold?”

“I could tell you that,” cried Tom Thumb, interrupting them.

“What was that?” said one of the thieves in fright. “I heard someone speaking.” They stood still listening, and Tom Thumb spoke again, and said, “Take me with you, and I’ll help you.”

“But where are you?”

“Just look on the ground and follow my voice,” he replied. There the thieves at length found him and lifted him up. “You little imp, how can you help us?” they said.

“A great deal,” said he. “I will creep into the pastor’s room through the iron bars, and will pass out to you whatever you want to have.”

“Come then,” they said, “and we will see what you can do.”

When they got to the pastor’s house, Tom Thumb crept into the room, but instantly cried out with all his might, “Do you want to have everything that is here?” The thieves were alarmed and said, “But do speak softly, so as not to waken anyone!”

Tom Thumb, however, behaved as if he had not understood this, and cried again, “What do you want? Do you want to have everything that is here?” The cook, who slept in the next room, heard this and sat up in bed, and listened.

The thieves, however, had, in their fright, run some distance away, but at last they took courage, and thought, The little rascal wants to mock us. They came back and whispered to him, “Come, be serious, and hand something out to us.”

Then Tom Thumb again cried as loudly as he could, “I really will give you everything, just put your hands in.”

The maid, who was listening, heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. At the same time, the thieves took flight and ran as if the Wild Huntsman were behind them. As the maid could not see anything, she went to strike a light. By the time she came back with it, Tom Thumb, unperceived, had gone and hid himself in the granary. After she had examined every corner and found nothing, the maid lay down in her bed again, and believed that, after all, she had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.

Tom Thumb had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful place to sleep; there he intended to rest until day, and then go home again to his parents. But there were other adventures in store for him. Truly, there is much affliction and misery in this world!

When day dawned, the maid arose from her bed to feed the cows. Her first step was to go into the barn and secure an armful of hay. Alas! It was precisely that very one in which poor Tom Thumb was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so soundly that he was aware of nothing and did not awake until he was in the mouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay.

“Ah, heavens!” cried he. “How have I got into the grinding mill?” But he soon realized where he was and was careful not to let himself get between the teeth and be crushed. Finally, he slipped down into the stomach with the hay. “In this little room the windows are forgotten,” said he, “and no sun shines in, neither will a candle be brought.”

His quarters were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was, more and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew less and less.

At length in his anguish, he cried as loud as he could, “Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!”

The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard someone speaking but saw no one, she perceived that it was the same voice that she had heard in the night and was so terrified that she slipped off her stool and spilt the milk. She ran in great haste to her master and said, “Oh heavens, pastor, the cow has been speaking!”

“You are mad,” replied the pastor; but he went himself to the barn to see what was there. Hardly, however, had he set his foot inside when Tom Thumb again cried, “Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!” Then the pastor himself was alarmed, and thought that an evil spirit had gone into the cow and ordered her to be killed. So the cow was killed, and the stomach, in which Tom Thumb was trapped, was thrown on the dung heap. Tom Thumb had great difficulty in working his way out. Finally, just as he was almost free, a new misfortune occurred. A hungry wolf found the dung heap and swallowed the whole stomach at one gulp. Tom Thumb did not lose courage. Perhaps, thought he, the wolf will listen to what I have to say, and he called to him from out of his stomach, “Dear wolf, I know of a magnificent feast for you!”

“Where is it to be had?” said the wolf.

“In such and such a house. You must creep into it through the kitchen drain, and there you will find as much cakes, bacon, and sausages as you can eat,” and he described to him exactly his father’s house. The wolf did not need to be told twice. He squeezed himself in at night through the drain, and ate to his heart’s content in the larder. When he had eaten his fill, he wanted to go out again, but he had become so big that he could not go out by the same way. Tom Thumb had reckoned on this, and now began to make a violent noise in the wolf’s body, and raged and screamed as loudly as he could.

“Will you be quiet,” said the wolf. “You will wake up the people!”

“Eh, what,” replied the little fellow, “you have eaten your fill, and I will make merry likewise,” and he began once more to scream with all his strength. At last his father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to the room and looked in through the opening in the door. When they saw that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and the husband fetched his axe, and the wife the scythe. “Stay behind,” said the man when they entered the room. “When I have given him a blow, if he is not killed by it, you must cut him down and hew his body to pieces.”

Then Tom Thumb heard his parents’ voices and cried, “Dear Father, I am here! I am in the wolf’s body!”

Said the father, full of joy, “Thank God, our dear child has found us again,” and bade the woman take away her scythe, that Tom Thumb might not be hurt with it. After that he raised his arm and struck the wolf such a blow upon his head that he fell down dead. Then they got knives and scissors and cut his body open and drew the little fellow forth.

“Ah,” said the father, “what sorrow we have gone through for your sake.”

“Yes, Father, I have gone about the world a great deal. Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again!”

“Where have you been, then?”

“Ah, Father, I have been in a mouse’s hole, in a cow’s stomach, and then in a wolf’s; now I will stay with you.”

“And we will not sell you again, no, not for all the riches in the world,” said his parents, and they embraced and kissed their dear Tom Thumb. Then they gave him food to eat and drink, and had some new clothes made for him, for his own had been spoiled on his journey.