The Travels of Thumbling
Acertain Tailor had a son who was so very diminutive in stature that he went by the nickname of Thumbling; but the little fellow had a great deal of courage in his soul, and one day he said to his father, “I must and will travel a little.” “You are very right, my son,” replied his father; “take a long darning-needle with you and stick a lump of sealing-wax on the end of it, and then you will have a sword to travel with.”
Now, the tailor would eat once more with his son, and so he skipped into the kitchen to see what his wife had cooked for their last meal. It was just ready, however, and the dish stood upon the hearth, and he asked his wife what it was.
“You can see for yourself,” replied she.
Just then Thumbling jumped on the fender and peeped into the pot; but, happening to stretch his neck too far over the edge of it, the smoke of the hot meat carried him up the chimney. For a little distance he rode on the smoke in the air; but at last he sank down on the earth. The little tailor was now embarked in the wide world, and went and engaged with a master in his trade; but with him the eating was not good, so Thumbling said to the mistress, “If you do not give us better food, I shall leave you, and early to-morrow morning write on your door with chalk, ‘Too many potatoes, too little meat; adieu, my lord potato-king. ’ ” “What do you think you will do, grasshopper?” replied the mistress, and in a passion she snatched up a piece of cloth, and would have given him a thrashing; but the little fellow crept nimbly under a thimble, and peeped out beneath at the mistress, and made faces at her. So she took up the thimble and tried to catch him; but Thumbling skipped into the cloth, and as she threw it away to look for him he slipped into the crevice of the table. “He, he, he, old mistress!” laughed he, putting his head up; and when she would have hit him he dropped down into the drawer beneath. At last, however, she did catch him, and hunted him out of the house.
The little tailor wandered about till he came to a great forest, where he met a band of robbers who were going to steal the King’s treasure. As soon as they saw the tailor, they thought to themselves, “Ah, such a little fellow as that can creep through the keyhole and serve us as pick-lock!” “Hilloa,” cried one, “you Goliath, will you go with us to the treasure-chamber? You can easily slip in, and hand us out the gold and silver.”
Thumbling considered for a while, and at last consented and went with them to the palace. Then he looked all over the doors to see if there were any chinks, and presently discovered one which was just wide enough for him to get through. Just as he was about to creep in one of the watchmen at the door saw him, and said to the other, “What ugly spider is that crawling there? I will crush it.”
“Oh, let the poor thing be,” said the other; “he has done nothing to you.” So Thumbling got luckily through the chink into the chamber, and, opening the window beneath which the robbers stood, threw out one by one the silverdollars. Just as the tailor was in the heat of his work, he heard the King coming to visit his treasure-chamber, and in a great hurry he hid himself. The King observed that many dollars were gone; but he could not imagine who could have stolen them, for the locks and bolts were all fast, and everything appeared quite safe. So he went away again, and said to the watchmen, “Have a care; there is some one at my gold.” Presently Thumbling began his work again, and the watchmen heard the gold moving, chinking, and falling down with a ring; so they sprang in and would have seized the thief. But the tailor, when he heard them coming, was still quicker, and ran into a corner and covered himself over with a dollar, so that nothing of him could be seen. Then he called to the watchmen, “Here I am!” and they went up to the place; but before they could search he was in another corner, crying, “Ha, ha! here I am!” The watchmen turned there, but he was off again in a third corner, crying, “He, he, he! here I am!” So it went on, Thumbling making fools of them each time; and they ran here and there so often about the chamber, that at last they were wearied out and went away. Then he threw the dollars out as before, and when he came to the last he gave it a tremendous jerk, and, jumping out after, flew down upon it to the ground. The robbers praised him very highly, saying, “You are a mighty hero; will you be our captain?” Thumbling refused, as he wished first to see the world. So they shared the booty among them; but the little tailor only took a farthing, because he could not carry any more.
After this deed he buckled his sword again round his body, and, bidding the robbers good day, set out further on his travels. He went to several masters seeking work; but none of them would have him, and at last he engaged himself as waiter at an inn. The maids, however, could not bear him, for he could see them without their seeing him, and he gave information to the master of what they took secretly from the larder, and how they helped themselves out of the cellar. So the servants determined among themselves to serve him out by playing him some trick. Not long afterwards one of them was mowing grass in the garden and saw Thumbling skipping about from daisy to daisy, so she mowed down in a great hurry the grass where he was, and tying it in a bundle together threw it slily into the cows’ stall. A great black cow instantly swallowed it up, and Thumbling too, without injuring him; but he was not at all pleased, for it was a very dark place, and no light to be seen at all! While the cow was being milked, Thumbling called out, “Holloa, when will that pail be full?” but the noise of the running milk prevented his being heard. By-and-by the master came into the stable, and said, “This cow must be killed to-morrow!” This speech made Thumbling tremble, and he shouted out in a shrill tone, “Let me out first, I say; let me out!”
The master heard him, but could not tell where the voice came from, and he asked, “Where are you?”
“In the dark,” replied Thumbling; but this the master could not understand, so he went away.
The next morning the cow was killed. Happily Thumbling escaped without a wound from all the cutting and carving, and was sent away in the sausage-meat. As soon as the butcher began his work, he cried with all his might, “Don’t chop too deep! don’t chop too deep!” But the whirring of the cleaver again prevented his being heard. Necessity is the mother of invention, and so Thumbling set his wits to work, and jumped so cleverly out between the cuts that he came off with a whole skin. He was not able to get away very far, but fell into the basin where the fragments were, and presently he was rolled up in a skin for a sausage. He found his quarters here very narrow, but afterwards, when he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked, the time appeared dreadfully long to him. At last, one day he was taken down, for a guest was to be entertained with a sausage. When the good wife cut the sausage in half, he took care not to stretch out his neck too far, lest it should be cut through. Then, seizing his opportunity, he made a jump, and sprang quite out.
In this house, however, where things had gone so badly, the little tailor would not stop any longer; so he set out again on his travels. His liberty did not last very long. In the open fields he met a Fox, who snapped him up in a twinkling. “Ah, Mr. Fox,” called Thumbling, “I don’t want to stick here in your throat; let me out again.”
“You are right,” replied the Fox, “you are no use there; but if you will promise me all the hens in your father’s farmyard I will let you off scot-free.”
“With all my heart,” said Thumbling; “you shall have all the fowls, I promise you.”
Then the Fox let him out, and carried him home; and as soon as the farmer saw his dear son again, he gave all the hens instantly to the Fox as his promised reward. Thereupon Thumbling pulled out the farthing which he had earned upon his wanderings, and said, “See, I have brought home with me a beautiful piece of gold.”
“But why did they give the Fox the poor little hens to gobble up?”
“Why, you simpleton, don’t you think your father would rather have his dear child than all the fowls in his farmyard!”
