The Young Giant

Once upon a time a countryman had a son who was as big as a thumb,

and did not become any bigger, and during several years did not grow

one hair’s breadth.  Once when the father was going out to plough,

the little one said, father, I will go out with you. You would go out

with me, said the father.  Stay here, you will be of no use out

there, besides you might get lost.  Then thumbling began to cry, and

for the sake of peace his father put him in his pocket, and took him

with him.

When he was outside in the field, he took him out again, and set him

in a freshly cut furrow.  Whilst he sat there, a great giant came

over the hill.  Do you see that great bogie, said the father, for he

wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him behave well, he is

coming to fetch you.  The giant, however, had scarcely taken two

steps with his long legs before he was in the furrow.

He took up little thumbling carefully with two fingers, examined him,

and without saying one word went away with him. His father stood by,

but could not utter a sound for terror, and he thought nothing else

but that his child was lost, and that as long as he lived he should

never set eyes on him again.

But the giant carried him home, let him suckle at his breast, and

thumbling grew and became tall and strong after the manner of giants.

When two years had passed, the old giant took him into the forest,

wanted to test him, and said, pull up a stick for yourself.  Then the

boy was already so strong that he tore up a young tree out of the

earth by the roots.  But the giant thought, we must do better than

that, took him back again, and suckled him two years longer.  When he

tested him, his strength had increased so much that he could tear an

old tree out of the ground.

That was still not enough for the giant, he again suckled him for two

years, and when he then went with him into the forest and said, now

just tear up a real stick, the boy tore up the biggest oak-tree from

the earth, so that it cracked, and that was a mere trifle to him.

Now that will do, said the giant, you are perfect.  And took him back

to the field from whence he had brought him.  His father was there

following the plough.  The young giant went up to him, and said, does

my father see what a fine man his son has grown into.

The farmer was alarmed, and said, no, you are not my son.  I don’t

want you – leave me.  Truly I am your son, allow me to do your work,

I can plough as well as you, nay better.  No, no, you are not my son,

and you can not plough – go away.  However, as he was afraid of this

great man, he let go of the plough, stepped back and sat down at the

side of the land.  Then the youth took the plough, and just grasped

it with one hand, but his pressure was so strong that the plough went

deep into the earth.

The farmer could not bear to see that, and called to him, if you are

determined to plough, you must not press so hard on it, that makes

bad work.  The youth, however, unharnessed the horses, and drew the

plough himself, saying, just go home, father, and bid my mother make

ready a large dish of food, and in the meantime I will go over the

field.  Then the farmer went home, and ordered his wife to prepare

the food, but the youth ploughed the field which was two acres large,

quite alone, and then he harnessed himself to the harrow, and

harrowed the whole of the land, using two harrows at once.  When he

had done it, he went into the forest, and pulled up two oak-trees,

laid them across his shoulders, and hung on them one harrow behind

and one before, and also one horse behind and one before, and carried

all as if it had been a bundle of straw, to his parents, house.

When he entered the yard, his mother did not recognize him, and

asked, who is that horrible tall man.  The father said, that is our

son.  She said, no that cannot be our son, we never had such a tall

one, ours was a little thing.  She called to him, go away, we do not

want you.  The youth was silent, but led his horses to the stable,

gave them some oats and hay, and all that they wanted.  When he had

done this, he went into the parlor, sat down on the bench and said,

mother, now I should like something to eat, will it soon be ready?

She said, yes, and brought in two immense dishes full of food, which

would have been enough to satisfy herself and her husband for a week.

The youth, however, ate the whole of it himself, and asked if she had

nothing more to set before him.  No, she replied, that is all we

have.  But that was only a taste, I must have more.

She did not dare to oppose him, and went and put a huge pig’s trough

full of food on the fire, and when it was ready, carried it in.  At

length come a few crumbs, said he, and gobbled all there was, but it

was still not sufficient to appease his hunger.  Then said he,

father, I see well that with you I shall never have food enough, if

you will get me an iron staff which is strong, and which I cannot

break against my knees, I will go out into the world.  The farmer was

glad, put his two horses in his cart, and fetched from the smith a

staff so large and thick, that the two horses could only just bring

it away.

The youth laid it across his knees, and snap, he broke it in two in

the middle like a bean-stalk, and threw it away. The father then

harnessed four horses, and brought a bar which was so long and thick,

that the four horses could only just drag it.  The son snapped this

also in twain against his knees, threw it away, and said, father,

this can be of no use to me, you must harness more horses, and bring

a stronger staff.  So the father harnessed eight horses, and brought

one which was so long and thick, that the eight horses could only

just carry it. When the son took it in his hand, he immediately

snapped off the end of it, and said, father, I see that you will not

be able to procure me any such staff as I want, I will remain no

longer with you.

So he went away, and gave out that he was a smith’s apprentice. He

arrived at a village, wherein lived a smith who was a stingy fellow,

who never did a kindness to any one, but wanted everything for

himself.  The youth went into the smithy and asked if he needed a

journeyman.  Yes, said the smith, and looked at him, and thought,

that is a strong fellow who will strike out well, and earn his bread.

So he asked, how much wages do you want.

I don’t want any at all, he replied, only every fortnight, when the

other journeymen are paid, I will give you two blows, and you must

bear them.  The miser was heartily satisfied, and thought he would

thus save much money.  Next morning, the strange journeyman was to

begin to work, but when the master brought the glowing bar, and the

youth struck his first blow, the iron flew asunder, and the anvil

sank so deep into the earth, that there was no bringing it out again.

Then the miser grew angry, and said, oh, but I can’t make any use of

you, you strike far too powerfully.  How much will you have for the

one blow.

Then said he, I will give you only quite a small blow, that’s all.

And he raised his foot, and gave him such a kick that he flew away

over four loads of hay.  Then he sought out the thickest iron bar in

the smithy for himself, took it as a stick in his hand and went

onwards.

When he had walked for some time, he came to a small farm, and asked

the bailiff if he did not require a head-man.  Yes, said the bailiff,

I can make use of one.  You look a capable fellow who can do

something, how much a year do you want as wages.  He again replied

that he wanted no wages at all, but that every year he would give him

three blows, which he must bear.  Then the bailiff was satisfied, for

he, too, was a covetous fellow.  Next morning all the servants were

to go into the wood, and the others were already up, but the head-man

was still in bed.  Then one of them called to him, get up, it is

time, we are going into the wood, and you must go with us.  Ah, said

he quite roughly and surlily, you may just go, then, I shall be back

again before any of you.  Then the others went to the bailiff, and

told him that the head-man was still lying in bed, and would not go

into the wood with them.  The bailiff said they were to awaken him

again, and tell him to harness the horses.  The head-man, however,

said as before, just go there, I shall be back again before any of

you.  And then he stayed in bed two hours longer.  At length he arose

from the feathers, but first he got himself two bushels of peas from

the loft, made himself some broth, ate it at his leisure, and when

that was done, went and harnessed the horses, and drove into the

wood.

Not far from the wood was a ravine through which he had to pass, so

he first drove the horses on, and then stopped them, and went behind

the cart, took trees and brushwood, and made a great barricade, so

that no horse could get through.  When he was entering the wood, the

others were just driving out of it with their loaded carts to go

home.  Then said he to them, drive on, I will still get home before

you do.  He did not drive far into the wood, but at once tore two of

the very largest trees of all out of the earth, threw them on his

cart, and turned round.  When he came to the barricade, the others

were still standing there, not able to get through.  Don’t you see,

said he, that if you had stayed with me, you would have got home just

as quickly, and would have had another hour’s sleep.  He now wanted

to drive on, but his horeses could not work their way through, so he

unharnessed them, laid them on the top of the cart, took the shafts

in his own hands, and pulled it all through, and he did this just as

easily as if it had been laden with feathers. When he was over, he

said to the others, there, you see, I have got over quicker than you.

And drove on, and the others had to stay where they were.  In the

yard, however, he took a tree in his hand, showed it to the bailiff,

and said, isn’t that a fine cord of wood.

Then said the bailiff to his wife, the servant is a good one – even

if he does sleep long, he is still home before the others.  So he

served the bailiff for a year, and when that was over, and the other

servants were getting their wages, he said it was time for him to

take his too.  The bailiff, however, was afraid of the blows which he

was to receive, and earnestly entreated him to excuse him from having

them, for rather than that, he himself would be head-man, and the

youth should be bailiff.  No said he, I will not be a bailiff, I am

head-man, and will remain so, but I will administer that which we

agreed on.  The bailiff was willing to give him whatsoever he

demanded, but it was of no use, the head-man said no to everything.

Then the bailiff did not know what to do, and begged for a

fortnight’s delay, for he wanted to find some way of escape. The

head-man consented to this delay.  The bailiff summoned all his

clerks together, and they were to think the matter over, and give him

advice.  The clerks pondered for a long time, but at last they said

that no one was sure of his life with head-man, for he could kill a

man as easily as a midge, and that the bailiff ought to make him get

into the well and clean it, and when he was down below, they would

roll up one of the mill-stones which was lying there, and throw it on

his head, and then he would never return to daylight.

The advice pleased the bailiff, and the head-man was quite willing to

go down the well.  When he was standing down below at the bottom,

they rolled down the largest mill-stone and thought they had broken

his skull, but he cried, chase away those hens from the well, they

are scratching in the sand up there, and throwing the grains into my

eyes, so that I can’t see.  So the bailiff cried, sh-sh, – and

pretended to frighten the hens away.  When the head-man had finished

his work, he climbed up and said, just look what a beautiful neck-tie

I have on.  And behold it was the mill-stone which he was wearing

round his neck.

The head-man now wanted to take his reward, but the bailiff again

begged for a fortnight’s delay.  The clerks met together and advised

him to send the head-man to the haunted mill to grind corn by night,

for from thence as yet no man had ever returned in the morning alive.

The proposal pleased the bailiff, he called the head-man that very

evening, and ordered him to take eight bushels of corn to the mill,

and grind it that night, for it was wanted.  So the head-man went to

the loft, and put two bushels in his right pocket, and two in his

left, and took four in a wallet, half on his back, and half on his

breast, and thus laden went to the haunted mill.  The miller told him

that he could grind there very well by day, but not by night, for the

mill was haunted, and that up to the present time whosoever had gone

into it at night had been found in the morning lying dead inside.  He

said, I will manage it, just you go and put your head on the pillow.

Then he went into the mill, and poured out the corn.  About eleven

o’clock he went into the miller’s room, and sat down on the bench.

When he had sat there a while, a door suddenly opened, and a large

table came in, and on the table, wine and roasted meats placed

themselves, and much good food besides, but everything came of

itself, for no one was there to carry it.

After this the chairs pushed themselves up, but no people came, until

all at once he beheld fingers, which handled knives and forks, and

laid food on the plates, but with this exception he saw nothing.  As

he was hungry, and saw the food, he, too, place himself at the table,

ate with those who were eating and enjoyed it.  When he had had

enough, and the others also had quite emptied their dishes, he

distinctly heard all the candles being suddenly snuffed out, and as

it was now pitch dark, he felt something like a box on the ear.  Then

he said, if anything of that kind comes again, I shall strike out in

return.  And when he had received a second box on the ear, he, too

struck out.

And so it continued the whole night.  He took nothing without

returning it, but repaid everything with interest, and did not slay

about him in vain.  At daybreak, however, everything ceased.  When

the miller had got up, he wanted to look after him, and wondered if

he were still alive.  Then the youth said, I have given some in

return.  The miller rejoiced, and said that the mill was now released

from the spell, and wanted to give him much money as a reward.  But

he said, money, I will not have, I have enough of it.  So he took his

meal on his back, went home, and told the bailiff that he had done

what he had been told to do, and would now have the reward agreed on.

When the bailiff heard that, he was seriously alarmed and quite

beside himself.  He walked to and fro in the room, and drops of sweat

ran down from his forehead.  Then he opened the window to get some

fresh air, but before he was aware, the head-man had given him such a

kick that he flew through the window out into the air, and so far

away that no one ever saw him again.

Then said the head-man to the bailiff’s wife, if he does not come

back, you must take the other blow.  She cried, no, no I cannot bear

it.  And opened the other window, because drops of sweat were running

down her forehead.  Then he gave her such a kick that she, too, flew

out, and as she was lighter she went much higher than her husband.

Her husband cried, do come to me, but she replied, come you to me, I

cannot come to you.

And they hovered about there in the air, and could not get to each

other, and whether they are still hovering about or not, I do not

know, but the young giant took up his iron bar, and went on his way.