The Valiant Little Tailor

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 the whole of the pots for him. He inspected all
of them, lifted them up, put his nose to them, 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, God bless the jam to my use," 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 ascended so to the
wall, where the flies were sitting in great numbers, that they were attracted
and descended on it in hosts. "Hola! 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. Then the little tailor at last lost all patience, and got a bit 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.
"Art thou 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 about him quite comfortably. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke
to him, and said, "Good day, comrade, so thou art sitting there, overlooking
the wide-spread world! I am just on my way thither, and want to try my luck.
Hast thou any inclination to go with me?" The giant looked contemptuously at
the tailor, and said, "Thou ragamuffin! Thou miserable creature!"

     "Oh, indeed?" answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and
showed the giant the girdle. "There mayst thou 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 thou hast 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.
"Thou canst certainly throw," said the giant, "but now we will see if thou art
able to carry anything properly." He took the tailor to a mighty oak tree
which lay there felled on the ground, and said, "If thou art strong enough,
help me to carry the tree out of the forest." "Readily," answered the little
man: "take thou the trunk on thy 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, "Thou art such a great fellow, and yet
canst not 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 hurried into the air with it. When he had fallen
down again without injury, the giant said, "What is this? Hast thou not
strength enough to hold the weak twig?" "There is no lack of strength,"
answered the little tailor. "Dost thou think that could be anything to a man
who has struck down seven at one blow? I leapt over the tree because the
huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. Jump as I did, if thou canst
do it." The giant made the attempt, but could not get over the tree, and
remained hanging in the branches, so that in this also the tailor kept the
upper hand.

     The giant said, "If thou art such a valiant fellow, come with me into our
cavern and spend the night with us." The little fellow was willing, and
followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were sitting there by
the fire, and each of them has a roasted sheep in his hand and was eating it.
The little tailor looked round and thought, "It is much more spacious here
than in my workshop." The giant showed him a bed, and said he was to lie down
in it and sleep. The bed was, however, too big for the little tailor; he did
not lie down in it, but crept into a corner. When it was midnight, and the
giant thought that the little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up,
took a great iron bar, cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had
given the grasshopper his finishing stroke. With the earliest dawn the giants
went into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when all at
once he walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The giants were terrified,
they were afraid that he would strike them all dead, and ran away in a great
hurry.

     The little tailor went onwards, always following his own pointed nose.
After he had walked for a long time, he came to the court-yard of a royal
palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell asleep. Whilst
he lay there, the people came and inspected him on all sides, and read on his
girdle, "Seven at one stroke." "Ah!" said they, "what does the great warrior
here in the midst of peace? He must be a mighty lord." They went and announced
him to the King, and gave it as their opinion that if war should break out,
this would be a weighty and useful man who ought on no account to be allowed
to depart. The counsel pleased the King, and he sent one of his courtiers to
the little tailor to offer him military service when he awoke. The ambassador
remained standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and
opened his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. "For this very reason
have I come here," the tailor replied, "I am ready to enter the King's
service." He was therefore honourably received, and a separate dwelling was
assigned him.

     The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and wished him
a thousand miles away. "What is to be the end of this?" they said amongst
themselves. "If we quarrel with him, and he strikes about him, seven of us
will fall at every blow; not one of us can stand against him." They came
therefore to a decision, betook themselves in a body to the King, and begged
for their dismissal. "We are not prepared," said they, "to stay with a man who
kills seven at one stroke." The King was sorry that for the sake of one he
should lose all his faithful servants, wished that he had never set eyes on
the tailor, and would willingly have been rid of him again. But he did not
venture to give him dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and
all his people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about
it for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He sent to the little
tailor and caused him to be informed that as he was such a great warrior, he
had one request to make to him. In a forest of his country lived two giants,
who caused great mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging, and
burning, and no one could approach them without putting himself in danger of
death. If the tailor conquered and killed these two giants, he would give him
his only daughter to wife, and half of his kingdom as a dowry, likewise one
hundred horsemen should go with him to assist him. "That would indeed be a
fine thing for a man like me!" thought the little tailor. "One is not offered
a beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one's life!" "Oh, yes,"
he replied, "I will soon subdue the giants, and do not require the help of the
hundred horsemen to do it; he who can hit seven at one blow, has no need to be
afraid of two."

     The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed him. When
he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to his followers, "Just stay
waiting here, I alone will soon finish off the giants." Then he bounded into
the forest and looked about right and left. After a while he perceived both
giants. They lay sleeping under a tree, and snored so that the branches waved
up and down. The little tailor, not idle, gathered two pocketfuls of stones,
and with these climbed up the tree. When he was half-way up, he slipped down
by a branch, until he sat just above the sleepers, and then let one stone
after another fall on the breast of one of the giants. For a long time the
giant felt nothing, but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, "Why
art thou knocking me?" "Thou must be dreaming," said the other, "I am not
knocking thee." They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the tailor
threw a stone down on the second, "What is the meaning of this?" cried the
other. "Why art thou pelting me?" "I am not pelting thee," answered the first,
growling. They disputed about it for a time, but as they were weary they let
the matter rest, and their eyes closed once more. The little tailor began his
game again, picked out the biggest stone, and threw it with all his might on
the breast of the first giant. "That is too bad!" cried he, and sprang up like
a madman, and pushed his companion against the tree until it shook. The other
paid him back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore
up trees and belaboured each other so long, that at last they both fell down
dead on the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt down. "It is
a lucky thing," said he, "that they did not tear up the tree on which I was
sitting, or I should have had to spring on to another like a squirrel; but we
tailors are nimble." He drew out his sword and gave each of them a couple of
thrusts in the breast, and then went out to the horsemen and said, "The work
is done; I have given both of them their finishing stroke, but it was hard
work! They tore up trees in their sore need, and defended themselves with
them, but all that is to no purpose when a man like myself comes, who can kill
seven at one blow." "But are you not wounded?" asked the horsemen. "You need
not concern yourself about that," answered the tailor, "they have not bent one
hair of mine." The horsemen would not believe him, and rode into the forest;
there they found the giants swimming in their blood, and all round about, lay
the torn-up-trees.

     The little tailor demanded of the King the promised reward; he however,
repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how he could get rid of
the hero. "Before thou receivest my daughter, and half of my kingdom," said he
to him, "thou must perform one more heroic deed. In the forest roams a unicorn
which does great harm, and thou must catch it first." "I fear one unicorn
still less than two giants. Seven at one blow, is my kind of affair." He took
a rope and an axe with him, went forth into the forest, and bade those who
were sent with him to wait outside. He had not to seek long. The unicorn soon
came towards him, and rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would spit him
on its horn without more ceremony. "Softly, softly; it can't be done as
quickly as that," said he, and stood still and waited until the animal was
quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The unicorn ran against
the tree with all its strength, and stuck its horn so fast in the trunk that
it had not strength enough to draw it out again, and thus it was caught. "Now,
I have got the bird," said the tailor, and came out from behind the tree and
put the rope round its neck, and then with his axe he hewed the horn out of
the tree, and when all was ready he led the beast away and took it to the
King.

     The King still would not give him the promised reward, and made a third
demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a wild boar that made
great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen should give him their help.
"Willingly," said the tailor, "that is child's play!" He did not take the
huntsmen with him into the forest, and they were pleased that he did not, for
the wild boar had several times received them in such a manner that they had
no inclination to lie in wait for him. When the boar perceived the tailor, it
ran on him with foaming mouth and whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to
the ground, but the active hero sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to
the window at once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran in after him, but
the tailor ran round outside and shut the door behind it, and then the raging
beast, which was much too heavy and awkward to leap out of the window, was
caught. The little tailor called the huntsmen thither that they might see the
prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however, went to the King, who was
now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep his promise, and have him his
daughter and the half of his kingdom. Had he known that it was no warlike
hero, but a little tailor who was standing before him, it would gave gone to
his heart still more than it did. The wedding was held with great magnificence
and small joy, and out of a tailor a king was made.

     After some time the young Queen heard her husband say in his dreams at
night, "Boy, make me the doublet, and patch the pantaloons, or else I will rap
the yard-measure over thine ears." Then she discovered in what state of life
the young lord had been born, and next morning complained of her wrongs to her
father, and begged him to help her to get rid of her husband, who was nothing
else but a tailor. The King comforted her and said, "Leave thy bed-room door
open this night, and my servants shall stand outside, and when he has fallen
asleep shall go in, bind him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry
him into the wide world." The woman was satisfied with this; but the King's
armour-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young lord, and
informed him of the whole plot. "I'll put a screw into that business," said
the little tailor. At night he went to bed with his wife at the usual time,
and when she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door,
and then lay down again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to be
asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, "Boy, make me the doublet and patch
me the pantaloons, or I will rap the yard-measure over thine ears. I smote
seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I brought away one unicorn, and caught
a wild boar, and am I to fear those who are standing outside the room?" When
these men heard the tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by a great dread,
and ran as if the wild huntsman were behind them, and none of them would
venture anything further against him. So the little tailor was a king, and
remained one to the end of his life.

Cinderella

     The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end was
drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said, "Dear
child, be good and pious, and then the good God will always protect thee, and
I will look down on thee from heaven and be near thee." Thereupon she closed
her eyes and departed. Every day the maiden went out to her mother's grave and
wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter came the snow spread a
white sheet over the grave, and when the spring sun had drawn it off again,
the man had taken another wife.

     The woman had brought two daughters into the house with her, who were
beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of heart. Now began a bad time
for the poor step-child. "Is the stupid goose to sit in the parlour with
us?" said they. "He who wants to eat bread must earn it; out with the kitchen
- wench." They took her pretty clothes away from her, put an old grey bedgown
on her, and gave her wooden shoes. "Just look at the proud princess, how
decked out she is!" they cried, and laughed, and led her into the kitchen.
There she had to do hard work from morning till night, get up before daybreak,
carry water, light fires, cook and wash. Besides this, the sisters did her
every imaginable injury - they mocked her and emptied her peas and lentils
into the ashes, so that she was forced to sit and pick them out again. In the
evening when she had worked till she was weary she had no bed to go to, but
had to sleep by the fireside in the ashes. And as on that account she always
looked dusty and dirty, they called her Cinderella. It happened that the
father was once going to the fair, and he asked his two step-daughters what
he should bring back for them. "Beautiful dresses," said one, "Pearls and
jewels," said the second. "And thou, Cinderella," said he, "what wilt thou
have?" "Father, break off for me the first branch which knocks against your
hat on your way home." So he brought beautiful dresses, pearls and jewels for
his two step-daughters, and on his way home, as he was riding through a
green thicket, a hazel twig brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then
he broke off the branch and took it with him. When he reached home he gave his
step-daughters the things which they wished for, and to Cinderella he gave
the branch from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him, went to her mother's
grave and planted the branch on it, and wept so much that the tears fell down
on it and watered it. It grew, however, and became a handsome tree. Thrice a
day Cinderella went and sat beneath it, and wept and prayed, and a little
white bird always came on the tree, and if Cinderella expressed a wish, the
bird threw down to her what she had wished for.

     It happened, however, that the King appointed a festival which was to
last three days, and to which all the beautiful young girls in the country
were invited, in order that his son might choose a bride. When the two step -
daughters heard that they too were to appear among the number, they were
delighted, called Cinderella and said, "Comb our hair for us, brush our shoes
and fasten our buckles, for we are going to the festival at the King's
palace." Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because she too would have liked to go
with them to the dance, and begged her step-mother to allow her to do so.
"Thou go, Cinderella!" said she. "Thou art dusty and dirty, and wouldst go to
the festival? Thou hast no clothes and shoes, and yet wouldst dance!" As,
however, Cinderella went on asking, the step-mother at last said, "I have
emptied a dish of lentils into the ashes for thee, if thou hast picked them
out again in two hours, thou shalt go with us." The maiden went through the
back-door into the garden, and called, "You tame pigeons, you turtle -
doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me to pick

"The good into the pot,
The bad into the crop."

     Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards
the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds beneath the sky, came whirring
and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the pigeons nodded with
their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and the rest began also pick,
pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good grains into the dish. Hardly had
one hour passed before they had finished, and all flew out again. Then the
girl took the dish to her step-mother, and was glad, and believed that now
she would be allowed to go with them to the festival. But the step-mother
said: "No, Cinderella, thou hast no clothes and thou canst not dance; thou
wouldst only be laughed at." And as Cinderella wept at this, the step-mother
said, "If thou canst pick two dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me in one
hour, thou shalt go with us." And she thought to herself "That she most
certainly cannot do." When the step-mother had emptied the two dishes of
lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the back-door into the
garden and cried, "You tame pigeons, you turtle-doves, and all you birds
under heaven, come and help me to pick

"The good into the pot,
The bad into the crop."

     Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards
the turtle-doves, and at length all the birds beneath the sky, came whirring
and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the doves nodded with
their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and others began also pick,
pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the good seeds into the dishes, and before
half an hour was over they had already finished, and all flew out again. Then
the maiden carried the dishes to the step-mother and was delighted, and
believed that she might now go with them to the festival. But the step -
mother said, "All this will not help thee; thou goest not with us, for thou
hast no clothes and canst not dance; we should be ashamed of thee!" On this
she turned her back on Cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud
daughters.

     As no one was now at home, Cinderella went to her mother's grave beneath
the hazel-tree, and cried,

"Shiver and quiver, little tree,
Silver and gold throw down over me."

     Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and slippers
embroidered with silk and silver. She put on the dress with all speed, and
went to the festival. Her step-mother, however, did not know her, and
thought she must be a foreign princess, for she looked so beautiful in the
golden dress. They never once thought of Cinderella, and believed that she was
sitting at home in the dirt, picking lentils out of the ashes. The prince went
to meet her, took her by the hand, and danced with her. He would dance with no
other maiden, and never left loose of her hand, and if any one else came to
invite her, he said, "This is my partner."

     She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home. But the
King's son said, "I will go with thee and bear thee company," for he wished to
see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. She escaped from him, however, and
sprang into the pigeon-house. The King's son waited until her father came,
and then he told him that the stranger maiden had leapt into the pigeon -
house. The old man thought, "Can it be Cinderella?" and they had to bring him
an axe and a pickaxe that he might hew the pigeon-house to pieces, but no
one was inside it. And when they got home Cinderella lay in her dirty clothes
among the ashes, and a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the mantel -
piece, for Cinderella had jumped quickly down from the back of the pigeon -
house and had run to the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken off her
beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them away
again, and then she had placed herself in the kitchen amongst the ashes in her
grey gown.

     Next day when the festival began afresh, and her parents and the step -
sisters had gone once more, Cinderella went to the hazel-tree and said -

"Shiver and quiver, my little tree,
Silver and gold throw down over me."

     Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on the
preceding day. And when Cinderella appeared at the festival in this dress,
every one was astonished at her beauty. The King's son had waited until she
came, and instantly took her by the hand and danced with no one but her. When
others came and invited her, he said, "She is my partner." When evening came
she wished to leave, and the King's son followed her and wanted to see into
which house she went. But she sprang away from him, and into the garden behind
the house. Therein stood a beautiful tall tree on which hung the most
magnificent pears. She clambered so nimbly between the branches like a
squirrel, that the King's son did not know where she was gone. He waited until
her father came, and said to him, "The stranger maiden has escaped from me,
and I believe she has climbed up the pear-tree." The father thought, "Can it
be Cinderella?" and had an axe brought and cut the tree down, but no one was
in it. And when they got into the kitchen, Cinderella lay there amongst the
ashes, as usual, for she had jumped down on the other side of the tree, had
taken the beautiful dress to the bird on the little hazel-tree, and put on
her grey gown.

     On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away, Cinderella
once more went to her mother's grave and said to the little tree -

"Shiver and quiver, my little tree,
Silver and gold throw down over me."

     And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was more splendid and
magnificent than any she had yet had, and the slippers were golden. And when
she went to the festival in the dress, no one knew how to speak for
astonishment. The King's son danced with her only, and if only one invited her
to dance, he said, "She is my partner."

     When evening came, Cinderella wished to leave, and the King's son was
anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so quickly that he could not
follow her. The King's son had, however, used a stratagem, and had caused the
whole staircase to be smeared with pitch, and there, when she ran down, had
the maiden's left slipper remained sticking. The King's son picked it up, and
it was small and dainty, and all golden. Next morning, he went with it to the
father, and said to him, "No one shall be my wife but she whose foot this
golden slipper fits." Then were the two sisters glad, for they had pretty
feet. The eldest went with the shoe into her room and wanted to try it on, and
her mother stood by. But she could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe
was too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, "Cut the toe
off; when thou art Queen thou wilt have no more need to go on foot." The
maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and
went out to the King's son. Then he took her on his horse as his bride, and
rode away with her. They were, however, obliged to pass the grave, and there,
on the hazel-tree, sat the two pigeons and cried,

"Turn and peep, turn and peep,
There's blood within the shoe,
The shoe it is too small for her,
The true bride waits for you."

Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from it. He
turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, and said she was
not the true one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this
one went into her chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel
was too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, "Cut a bit off thy
heel; when thou art Queen thou wilt have no more need to go on foot." The
maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the
pain, and went out to the King's son. He took her on his horse as his bride,
and rode away with her, but when they passed by the hazel-tree, two little
pigeons sat on it and cried,

"Turn and peep, turn and peep,
There's blood within the shoe,
The shoe it is too small for her,
The true bride waits for you."

He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running out of her shoe,
and how it had stained her white stocking. Then he turned his horse and took
the false bride home again. "This also is not the right one," said he, "have
you no other daughter?" "No," said the man, "There is still a little stunted
kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind her, but she cannot possibly be
the bride." The King's son said he was to send her up to him; but the mother
answered, "Oh no, she is much too dirty, she cannot show herself!" He
absolutely insisted on it, and Cinderella had to be called. She first washed
her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the King's son,
who gave her the golden shoe. Then she seated herself on a stool, drew her
foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted
like a glove. And when she rose up and the King's son looked at her face he
recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with him and cried, "That is
the true bride!" The step-mother and the two sisters were terrified and
became pale with rage; he, however, took Cinderella on his horse and rode away
with her. As they passed by the hazel-tree, the two white doves cried,

"Turn and peep, turn and peep,
No blood is in the shoe,
The shoe is not too small for her,
The true bride rides with you."

and when they had cried that, the two came flying down and placed themselves
on Cinderella's shoulders, one on the right, the other on the left, and
remained sitting there.

     When the wedding with the King's son had to be celebrated the two false
sisters came and wanted to get into favour with Cinderella and share her good
fortune. When the betrothed couple went to church, the elder was at the right
side and the younger at the left, and the pigeons pecked out one eye of each
of them. Afterwards as they came back, the elder was at the left, and the
younger at the right, and then the pigeons pecked out the eye of each. And
thus, for their wickedness and falsehood they were punished with blindness as
long as they lived.