Saturday, August 28, 2010

Swan Song


The community grieved the loss of its swans.
Read more







To read the full story of the Swan Slaying click on link.
To read Fairy Tale Detectives Solve the Mystery of the Swan Slayer click on link.


Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com


Friday, August 27, 2010

Plumed Pogrom or Fairy Tale Ethos?


Plumed Pogrom or Fairy Tale Ethos

In August 2009 my husband and I visited one of the prettiest little patches of land (should I say water) near our farmhouse. Some see only a dismal pond, paved over by intersecting roads. But we see a marsh filled with waterfowl, waders and exotic birds. We like this swampy spot because it attracts a variety of wildlife, mainly cranes, herons, different duck species and egrets. On that particular August evening we felt ambitious and not only remembered to take our binoculars but also a spotting scope. The scope turned out to be entirely unneeded because the primary attraction that evening, a family of trumpeter swans (father, mother and two fledglings), was resting at the side of the road. But since we had dragged the scope along, we set it up cattycorner to the birds. The two elder birds soon lifted their heads and began a melancholic song. We watched for some moments in silence, completely engrossed. Lost in the moment, we didn't even notice when a huge yellow Hummer SUV pulled up alongside us. It rolled down the window and yelled out “Get a life!” The tires then screeched and we heard laughter as the vehicle sped off. We packed up the spotting scope and chuckled; we must have looked ridiculous using a telescope-like contraption when we could have driven the car right up to the birds.


But that’s not the end of the story. Several days later when we returned to this favorite spot, instead of finding the swan family, we found swan effigies, that is, numerous stuffed animals in swan shape, hand-drawn signs, pictures and photos at the spot the swans had once frequented. The posters reported that two swans had been killed, even suggesting the birds had been viciously murdered. A $5,000 reward was offered to find the swans’ slayer. It was believed the cygnets had first been lured into the road and then shot by someone. The next morning the adult male was found alive, however because of broken wings and severe injuries this third swan also had to be euthanized.

Township residents went into mourning for their swans and the authorities promised a prompt investigation that would surely lead to prosecution of the culprit(s). But amidst the outcry, some criticism could also be heard. One of the more interesting comments posted on the annarbor.com website was this by a contributor named Jordan:


Raise your fist in anger, but I'm going to say it: They're just swans. They're animals. Yes, it is sad that they won't be there anymore. And if the swans were maliciously killed by people, which seems to be the general, albeit unproven, consensus, then it was a disgusting act. But when I saw that a group had already managed to raise $5,000 for information on the "slaying of the swans," I couldn't really believe it.”


Jordan put it all in perspective: the local food bank was experiencing a critical shortage of food. As more and more people lost their jobs, they were relying on this support and local agencies had reported an increase in demand and ever-diminishing resources to meet the need. Now that was truly something you could get angry about. But the passionate and spontaneous response to an attack on birds was startling.

Most people seemed to believe the swans were intentionally killed. Later the Michigan Department of Natural Resources reported they hadn't died from gunshot wounds but rather from blunt trauma, consistent with having been hit by a car or truck. Regardless of how they received their injuries, the act was premeditated in the mind of the public. The outpouring of grief for the birds was swift. A makeshift shrine appeared on both sides of the road. People brought stuffed swan animals, posted pictures, wrote little prayers, and erected crosses. I guess I had always thought few people actually paid any attention to the birds. But as it turned out, I was only one of many swan-admirers. Many local residents had been following the swan family saga: they watched as the adults first built their nest in the marsh, they looked on as the parents patiently sat on their eggs, and when the eggs finally hatched they saw the nestlings’ heads peeking out from matted straw. Soon carloads of people were stopping to watch the swan family and some even photographed them on their way to work. The swans had become an important part of people's every-day routine, an important element of their landscape.

But what does all this have to do with fairy tales? Folk tradition often likens the swan to an immaculate or faultless person. In folklore the creature is often described as one without blemish, and is often associated with bards or poets. (How sinful then to kill such a creature!) According to myth, the swan portends its own death when it sings its famous swan song. German mythology is filled with swan lore, ascribing magical properties to them (see Swan Mythology on this website). When carefully read, many of the fairy tales presented on this website seem to offer a distinct "fairy tale attitude" toward the natural world and toward animals in particular. A good example of these "fairy tale values" is provided by the stories The Little Ringed Snake and The Fairy Tale of Horse and Fox. Here an inherent respect for animals is evident. This appreciation of nature, some would even say fervent love of the landscape and all it contains, is matter-of-fact in fairy tales. Often there is an invisible inter-connectedness between people, place and thing, which is the whole point of the story. These unseen links are often interpreted as mere dramatic devices, a bit of curious magic or silly enchantment, but actually reflect a much deeper fairy tale ethos (perhaps one might even call it "moral imagination").

Here is one example of what I mean:
In popular German folklore, the snake often represents a house spirit or ancestral ghost. Jakob Grimm has suggested these spirits were probably linked to popular notions about ancestors or even ancestor worship. House-snake-as-ancestral ghost would have been understood by the original audience of the tale (just like today most Americans would readily know what is meant the words cellphone or McMansion). Similar to a Tomte, this spirit lived alongside the family, frequently enjoying a separate parallel existence but not perceived by all family members.
(In the tale of the Little Ringed Snake, the creature appears as companion to a lonely child but the mother is unaware of its existence). Folk belief emphasized that such beings were actually the heart of the household. Should this creature be harmed, the family, its security and livelihood would also be threatened. In the world of the fairy tale, a thoughtless act of violence toward a helpless being is tantamount to bringing about one's own sudden (and usually dramatic) demise.

So a year later what is the status of the swan controversy? No swan-killers were ever identified. The little shrine at the side of the road has vanished. And I wrote out a check to the local breakfast program for the homeless.

To view pictures of the swan memorials click on link Swan Song
To read Fairy Tale Detectives Solve the Mystery of the Swan Slayer click on link.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tale of the Orphan Child, a Belly-Wriggler and a Patch of Blue




Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 105, The Little Ringed Snake Version II

An orphan child sat at the city wall spinning. The girl saw a little snake sliding on its belly along the stone wall. Quickly the child spread out her blue-silk kerchief, a thing little snakes love with all their heart (and the only thing to which they are irresistibly drawn).


As soon as the creature saw the cloth, it turned around and slithered toward that patch of blue carrying a small golden crown, which it placed there. Then the little snake wriggled away. The girl picked up the glittering crown and saw it was spun from the finest and most delicate golden thread. Soon the snake returned a second time: but when it no longer saw the crown, it crept away along the city wall. It beat its head against the stone until it no longer had the strength to continue. Finally it lay there dead. 

If the girl had left the crown lying in its place, the little snake surely would have brought even more treasures to her from out of its crevice.

To read more fairy tales, click on the link below:

Copyright Translation FairyTaleChannel.com

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Fairy Tale of the Little Ringed Snake

(Illustration by Tomi Ungerer, Das Grosse Liederbuch)


Fairy Tale of the Little Ringed Snake, Grimm's Fairy Tale No. 105 Version I

There once lived a little child and every day its mother gave it a small bowl with milk and broken pieces of bread. The child always took the little bowl and went out into the yard, sat down and ate.

But when the child began to eat, a house snake would often creep out of a crack in the wall. It lowered its little head and lapped up the child’s milk, eating right along. The child was pleased with its companion and if it sat alone with its little bowl and the snake did not appear immediately, it cried out:

“Snake, come fast, come swift,
Come here you little thing,
Take from me these crumbs,
And lick the milk refreshing.”

The snake came slithering out and enjoyed the refreshing milk. It also showed its gratitude by bringing the child secret treasures, all manner of pretty things, sparkling stones, pearls and golden toys. But the snake only drank the milk and left the crumbs alone.

Once the child took its little spoon and rapped the snake’s little head and said “You silly thing, you must eat the crumbs too!” When the mother, who was standing in the kitchen, heard the child talking and when she saw that it was hitting a snake with its spoon, she ran out with a piece of firewood and killed the goodly animal.

From that time forward there was a change in the child. The child had grown big and strong as long as the snake had eaten beside it. But now it lost its rosy cheeks and became thin. It wasn’t long until the bird of death appeared at the child’s window one night and began to cry. And the robin gathered leaves and twigs and wove a funeral wreath and soon thereafter the child lay on the bier.


Translation Copyright FairyTaleChannel.org

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Roadside Revelation on a Summer Trip through Switzerland




Grimm’s Saga No. 14: The Heavy Baby

In the year 1686, on June 8, two persons of noble birth made their way to Chur, Switzerland. On the road they found a small infant lying near a bush. It was swaddled in linen. One nobleman took pity on the child and ordered his manservant to climb down from the carriage and pick up the babe so that it could be taken to the next village and arrangements made for its care. When the servant had dismounted, he seized hold of the child and wanted to lift it up, but found he didn’t have the strength to do it. The two noblemen sitting in the carriage were amazed and ordered the other servant to help him. But the men using both their hands could not budge the child from the spot where it lay. After some time had passed and the servants were tired of lifting and pulling, the child began to speak and said: “Leave me lying here. You won’t be able to move me from this spot on the earth. But I want to tell you, this will be a delicious and fruitful year, but few people will experience it.” As soon as the child had spoken these words, it vanished. Both noblemen and their servants appeared before the city council in Chur and had their sworn statements entered in the public record.


Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:

Copyright Translation FairyTaleChannel.com

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Oath Against Tyranny




Grimm’s Saga No. 517: The Confederacy in Ruetli

(Part of the Wilhelm Tell Saga from Switzerland)


A man from Schwyz called
Stoeffacher lived near Steinen, the fortress. Here he built a very fine house. One day Grissler rode by, the magistrate of the Kingdom of Handen in Uri and Schwyz. He called out to Stoeffacher and asked him whose fine little house it was. The man replied: “It is your grace and my land in fee.” The man did not dare say it was his own. Grissler said nothing and rode home.Now Stoeffacher was a smart and intelligent man. He also had a pious and wise wife. And so he took the matter to heart and believed the magistrate would soon take all of their earthly possessions. His wife, seeing how her husband despaired, asked him to tell her everything. She said “Go and tell your friends, they will give you wise council.” So quickly three men were called together, one from Uri, one from Schwyz and one from Unterwaldner (the one whose father had been made blind). In secret these three men swore the first oath marking the beginning of the eternal Swiss confederacy. This oath elevated the rule of law and justice, suppressed unfairness and punished evil deeds. That is why God blessed the men with good fortune. But if they wanted to carry out attacks, they would assemble at Mittenstein, at the end as it is called in Bettlin, where they met to confer in Ruetli.


Translation Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Mid-Summer Revelry of Fairy Folk


Grimm’s Saga No. 31

The Wee Folk’s Wedding Feast


Wee folk lived in Eilenburg Castle in Saxony. Once these fairy folk wanted to celebrate a wedding feast and so it happened that they crept through every key hole and window crack of the great house. They jumped down onto the smooth wooden floor like little peas being poured onto a threshing mat. But the old duke, who was sleeping in the room in his high four-poster bed, awoke. He was exceedingly amazed when he gazed upon the wee folk assembling in his chamber. One of them approached, wearing a costume like a herald. Using fitting words, he invited the duke to participate in the feast.

“But one thing we ask,” he added. “Only you may attend the celebration, none of your household may gaze upon the party, and may not in stealth take even one peek.”

The old duke responded courteously: “Because my sleep has already been disturbed, I will stay with you.” A delicate little wife was brought before him, small lamp carriers positioned themselves on either side and the sweet sounds of music started up. The duke had trouble keeping up with the little wife while dancing. The fairy sprang and jumped so sprightly and finally whirled around so swiftly, that he could hardly catch his breath. But in the middle of this cheerful dance suddenly everything fell quiet. The music stopped and the entire lot scurried through door cracks, mouse holes and every other escape hatch. But bride and groom, heralds and dancers all looked up at an opening high up in the ceiling of the room. There they discovered the face of the old duchess, peering down on the merry scene. With that they all bowed before the duke and the herald, who had invited him, stepped forward once more and thanked him for his kind hospitality.

“But because our joy and our wedding have been interrupted by another human’s eyes gazing upon us, from now on your descendants shall not count more than seven Eilenburgs at one time.”

And then they all scurried out one after another from that place. Soon it was quiet and the old duke found himself alone in his dark room. The enchantment has lasted to the present day and always when there are six living knights of Eilenburg, one dies before the seventh is born.


Copyright fairytalechannel.com

Friday, July 16, 2010

The Wild Fairies of Wunderberg Mountain




The Wild Fairies of Wunderberg Mountain, Grimm's Saga No. 50


Folks and farmers of Groedicher reported in 1753 that wild fairies of Wunderberg Mountain came down from the hills and visited young children, maids and lads alike. At first these wild fairies or Woods Wives of Wunderberg as they were called, offered the children pieces of bread when they grazed their cattle in the clearing near Glanegg.

Time and again the wild fairies visited this clearing in the meadow during the grain harvest. They came down from the hills early in the morning and in the evening when other people went home after work, these wives went out and entered Wunderberg without taking their evening meal.

Once it happened that a small chap sat on his horse next to Wunderberg Mountain and his horse was harnessed to the wagon his father was using for threshing the field. Once again the Wild Wives came down from the hill and wanted to carry the boy away using force. 

But the father, who knew the secrets and habits of these mountain fairies, rushed toward the women without fear and took the child from them with the words: “What audacity! What cheek! To visit my field so many times and now you even want to take away my little boy! What do you intend to do with him?” 

The fairies replied: “We will take better care of him and he will have it better with us! We will dote on the little fellow, nothing bad will befall him if he comes with us!” But the father would not let go of the child, and gripped him tightly in his hands. The wild women cried bitter tears but finally departed.

Once the wild women came out of the Wunderberg near the Grinding Mill or the Ball Mill, which was called Place of the Ball because it was close to the summit. They snatched a boy, who was grazing cattle in the meadow. This boy, whom everyone knew, was first seen again by woodcutters more than a year later. But now he was wearing a green shift and sat on a tree trunk. The next day his parents went out to find him, but it was all for naught. The child was never seen again.

It often happened that a wild fairy came out of the Wunderberg walking toward the village of Anif. This village lay one-half-hour away from Berg. Once there, the wild wife dug holes and storage caches in the mountain. She had extraordinarily long and beautiful hair, which almost touched her heels. A farmer from the village often saw this woman walking back and forth. He fell in love with her immediately, mainly because of her beautiful hair. He could not help himself from going to her, gazed upon her longingly with pleasure and finally, in his simple-mindedness, entered her little cave-hole without being shy at all. No one said anything or even mentioned how unseemly it was. 


But the second night the wild fairy asked the farmer if he didn’t have a wife of his own. The farmer lied about his wife and said no. But his true wife was wondering where her husband spent the nights and slept. She therefore followed him and found him sleeping in the meadow beside the wild fairy. “May God save your beautiful hair!” the woman said to the wild fairy. “What are you doing here with each other?” 

After saying these words the farmer’s wife left them, but the farmer was terrified. The wild fairy wife accused the man of unfaithfulness and said “If your wife had expressed hatred or anger toward me, you would now be unhappy and no longer able to depart from this spot. But because your wife wasn’t so angry, go home to her and love her and do not try again to come here. For it is written: “Each shall live faithfully with his wedded wife! Alas the power of these words has diminished over time along with the fortune of married couples! Now take this shoe full of gold, go home and never turn around again.” 


More tales about wild faeries:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2009/08/french-tale-of-fairy-sisters-july.html

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2008/03/fairy-grotto-and-palm-sunday-fairy.html

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/07/mid-summer-revelry-of-fairy-folk.html

And about gnomes:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/05/ancient-tribe-of-swiss-gnomes-called.html


Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com

Monday, July 12, 2010

The King of all Carrots

























(Illustration Tomi Ungerer, Das Grosse Liederbuch, Diogenes Verlag)

Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 146 The Carrot King

Once there lived two brothers, both serving as soldiers. One brother was rich, the other poor. The poor one, seeking to alleviate his dire need, took off his soldier’s uniform and became a farmer. Now he spent his time digging, hoeing and hacking his little acre and sowed a row of carrots. The seed sprouted and a carrot soon grew that was so large and strong and noticeably thicker than the others. In fact, it would not stop growing. One could even say it was the Crown Prince or Ruler of all Carrots because never again has there been such a carrot (nor, I suspect, shall there ever be another one like it). Finally it was so big that it filled up an entire wagon and two oxen were required to pull it. The farmer did not know what to do with the thing, and he wondered whether the carrot was his fortune or misfortune. Finally he thought to himself “If you sell it, what great reward will you fetch? And the smaller carrots are just as good for eating. It is best that you present it to the king and honor him with the gift.”

So he loaded the carrot on his wagon, hitched up two oxen and drove to court to present the carrot to the king. “What kind of strange thing have you brought?” the king asked. “I have seen many odd things in my day, but never such a monster. From what type of seed could this have grown? Or perhaps, the vegetable has only grown this way for you because you are a child of fortune.”

“Oh no,” the farmer replied. “I am no fortune’s child. I am a poor soldier who could no longer feed himself. So I hung my soldier’s uniform on a nail and now tend the soil. I have a brother who is rich, whom you certainly know. But I have nothing and have been forgotten by the world.”

The king felt compassion for him and said “You shall overcome your poverty and will receive presents from me so that you shall be the equal of your rich brother.”

The king gave him enormous amounts of gold, farmland, fields and cattle and made him stone-rich, so that the riches of his brother did not compare. When his brother heard what had been accomplished with a single carrot, he was overcome with jealously and plotted how he, too, could secure such fortune for himself. But he wanted to do it in a much smarter way so he took gold and horses and brought them to the king. He thought the king would give him much greater riches in return, because his brother had received so much for a single carrot. The king received the brother’s gift and said, he did not know what to give him in return that could be rarer or better than the large carrot. So the rich brother had to accept his brother’s carrot as present from the king. He put it in his wagon and drove home. At home he did not know on whom he could take out his rage and anger until finally an evil thought came to him. He decided to kill his brother and so he hired murderers, who were instructed to lay in waiting. He now went to his brother and said “Dear brother, I know a secret treasure. Let us go out together, unearth it and share it.”

The brother let himself be convinced and innocently went along. But when they were walking, the murderers fell upon him, tied him up and wanted to hang him on a tree. They were just about to carry out the evil deed when the sound of song and the beating of hooves could be heard in the distance. Such a terror seized them, that in their haste they pushed their prisoner into a sack, hung it on a tree and took flight. But the prisoner worked nimbly with his fingers until there was a hole in the sack, through which he could stick his head. But who should be the next one to come down the path but a wandering student, a young fellow who rode through the forest singing loudly. When the one hanging in the sack noticed that someone was passing below he called out “Greetings to you in this fine hour.”

The student looked all around and did not know from where the voice came. Finally he said “Who is calling me?” From the treetop the prisoner now called “Raise your eyes. I am sitting up here in the sack of wisdom. In only a short amount of time I have learned many things, among them that all learning is as elusive as the wind. Soon I will have mastered everything, will come down and be wiser than all humankind. I understand the stars and can read the signs of the heavens, can decipher the blowing of the winds, the sand in the sea, know all manner of healing sickness, recognize the powers of herbs, birds and stones. If you sat here in my place, you too would soon understand the wonder that flows out of my sack of wisdom.”

When the student heard all this he was amazed and said “Blessed be the hour when I found you. Couldn’t I too sit a while in the sack?” From above the prisoner replied as if he did not relish the idea. “I will let you sit here for a very short time in return for a reward and good words. But you must wait another hour; I still have to learn a bit more.”

When the student had waited a bit, he began to be restless. The time seemed too long and he begged immediate entry to the sack; his thirst for wisdom was far too great to wait any longer. The prisoner in the sack pretended he had finally given in and said “So that I can emerge from this cocoon of wisdom, you must lower the sack by that rope tied to the tree. Then you can crawl inside.”

The student lowered the sack, opened it and freed the man inside. Then he called out eagerly “Now pull me up into the tree quickly!” He wanted to walk into the sack standing upright. “Stop!” cried out the other. “That won’t do at all!” He grabbed him by the head and pushed him in backwards, tied the opening around his head and pulled the disciple of wisdom up into the tree, where he swayed back and forth in the air. “How do you fare up there my dear fellow? See, don’t you already feel wisdom dawning with experience? Now sit quietly until you become much smarter than you already are.”

And so he mounted the student’s horse, rode away and after an hour sent out someone to let the fellow out of the tree.

More gardening fairy tales:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2008/06/grimms-saga-no-17-giantesss-plaything.html

Click on the link to read more fairy tales:

Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Ringo Starr, Teutonic Knights and Peace in Time


Grimm’s Saga No. 535: Andreas von Sangerwitz, Grand Master of Christburg

600 years ago (plus one week) a famous Teutonic knight broke with tradition and wished for love and peace in his time: his pleas went unheard and the consequences were dire (see fairy tale below). Today on July 7th 2010, we find ourselves wishing for the same thing as Ringo Starr celebrates his 70th birthday with a concert at Radio City Music Hall. Today Ringo instructs us to break with tradition and wish for peace and love in our time. (Click here to read about about Ringo's Birthday with a Little Help from his Friends.) But back to the world of the fairy tale.

The saga below recalls a bloody and violent historical event, which ended poorly for the knights involved. After the battle described in the story, the power and influence of the Teutonic Knights were greatly curtailed (perhaps ultimately bringing a bit more peace and love to the region). The self-igniting beard and other weird hair themes of this story should be read within the overall context of supernatural hair, which you can read about by clicking on the link.

And finally, to find out more about Teutonic Knights, hit the Wiki-link.




On July 15 in the year 1410 near Tannenberg a great battle was fought in Prussia between the Teutonic Knights and Vladislav, King of Poland. It ended in utter defeat for the order of Teutonic Knights. Even Grand Master Ulrich von Jungingen was killed in battle. The Polish King Vladislav had the Grand Master’s corpse sent to the Brothers of Osterode and they buried him in Marienburg. But the Grand Master’s chin and beard were cut off and sent to Krakau, where they are still shown today (that is, in the time of Caspar Schuetzen). But at the war council when the Grand Master consulted his advisors, the Grand Master of Christburg, Andreas Sangerwitz a German nobleman by birth, called out for peace even though almost everyone was in favor of war and the enemy was already advancing in the country. This vexed von Sangerwitz to no end for everyone thought he held back out of fear or timidity. But he, having no less heart and even more good humor and intelligence, said: “I have advised Your Grace to strike up peace, because I think and understand it to be the best option in these trying times. But because God has determined otherwise and it is also Your Grace’s pleasure, I must follow you into the future battle, come what may. I will stand by you like a man and give life and limb for you as faithfully as I advised you to seek peace.” As an honorable knight, Andreas Sangerwitz also did what he said. Like the Grand Master, he fell in battle at Walstatt after fighting bravely against the enemy. When Grand Master von Sangerwitz was riding out to battle in full armament, he met the Master of the Choir who ridiculed him and asked him scornfully whom he had left behind in charge of his castle during his absence. Enraged he replied: “I leave it to you and the devils who have advised this war!

Afterward, when the battle was over and the Grand Master was dead, devilry and ghostly specters began to shake and rule that place, so that no human being could remain or dwell within the castle. As soon as the brothers of the order sat down to eat, all bowls and goblets were instantly full of blood. (But when the surviving knights ate outside of the castle, nothing of the sort happened.) When the servants wanted to enter the stable, they found themselves in the cellar instead and drank so much wine that they could not remember their actions. When the cook and his helpers entered the kitchen, they found horses standing there. The room had become a stall. If the master of the cellar wanted to do his work, instead of finding wine and beer barrels in the cellar he found pots, bellows and water troughs. The same nonsense occurred in all matters and in all places. Things were even stranger and much worse for the new Grand Master who came from Frauenberg. Once he was hung up by his beard in the castle fountain. Another time he was thrown onto the top-most roof of the castle. It was only with enormous difficulty and great peril to his person that he was brought down safely from the roof. A third time his beard self-ignited and began to burn, so that his face was severely injured. He also could not extinguish the flames with water and only when he ran out of the doomed castle did the fire go out. That is why no more Grand Masters wanted to live there. It was abandoned by all successors and called the devil’s dwelling according to the deceased Grand Master’s prophecy.


Two years after the battle a man from Christburg returned home. He had been on pilgrimage to Rome during the war. When he heard of the ghostly presence in the castle, he went there at noon one day. He wanted to experience the truth himself or perhaps he had brought a relic with him, which he thought to use against the ghosts. He met the Grand Master’s brother on the bridge, who had also laid down his life in the battle. He quickly recognized the man, because he had stood as godfather for one of his children. His name was Otto von Sangerwitz and because he thought it was a living man that he met, he approached and said: “Dear Godfather, how happy am I to see you so healthy and fresh; someone tried to convince me you had been killed. I am happy that things are better than I thought. And how are things in this castle, of which so many strange things are said?
The devil’s ghost replied: “Come along and you shall see how house is kept here. The smithy followed him up the spiral stair; when they reached the first floor, they found it jammed full people playing cards and throwing dice; everyone was laughing, cursing both the wounded and martyrs alike. In the next room throngs of people sat crowded around a table. Only gluttony and drinking could be seen in that room. From there they went into the great hall where they found many men, women, maidens and gallants. But only the music of strumming, singing and dancing could be heard and only wanton behavior and disgraceful acts seen. Now they entered the chapel. A priest stood before the altar as if he wanted to say mass, but the members of the choir sat on their chairs sleeping. Afterward when they left the castle, they immediately heard such mournful howling, crying and screaming, that the smithy became scared and thought the place couldn’t be more wretched than hell itself.His godfather spoke to him: “Go and tell the new Grand Master what you have seen and heard.” With these words he vanished, but the smithy was so terrified that a shudder went through his body, chilling him down to his toes. Still intending to follow the command, he returned to the new Grand Master and told him everything as it had happened. The Grand Master was enraged, said these were only imagined things that would bring shame upon his honorable order. And so, he had the smithy thrown into a pool of water and drowned.

Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com


External links for further reading:
To read more about the Grand Master Ulrich von Jungingen:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ulrich_von_Jungingen

To understand the meaning and usage of the term Grand Master:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grandmaster

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

The Legend of Charlemagne and the Snake


Grimm’s Saga No. 459: Charlemagne and the Snake

When King Charlemagne lived in Zurich in the house called Loch, he had a column erected with a bell on top. Attached to this bell was a rope, which anyone desiring justice on a certain matter could pull. Every day when the King sat for his noon meal, he made himself available to those seeking fairness and just treatment. One day it happened that the bell rang. The servants went outside but could not find anyone ringing the bell. When they returned inside, the bell rang again. Now the King commanded the servants to go out and find the source of the ringing. Following his command, they found an enormous snake wrapped around the rope, ringing the bell. The servants, who were deeply dismayed, reported the situation back to the King. He immediately got up from his meal and insisted on speaking justice for the creature, like he would for any human being. After the worm reverently bowed before the monarch, it led him to the banks of a body of water, where, on its nest and its eggs sat an enormous toad. Charlemagne examined the state of things and decided the dispute between the two animals by damning the toad to fire and conceding the snake was right. This judgment was spoken and executed. Several days later the snake returned to court, bowed, and turning toward the King’s table, raised the cover of the goblet standing there. It took from its mouth and placed a costly gem into this goblet, bowed again and went its way. At the place where the snake’s nest had stood, the King erected a church and named it Wasserkilch. But the gem he gave to his dear wife, whom he loved dearly. This stone had the secret power of attraction and the King was now irresistibly drawn to his wife. When he was not in her presence he felt only sadness and a deep longing for her. That is why at the hour of her death, the empress placed the stone under her tongue, knowing that if it came into the hands of another, the King would soon forget her. The empress was now buried with the stone but poor Charlemagne could not take leave from her corpse. He had her body disinterred and carried it around with him for eighteen years. In the meantime a courtier had heard about the hidden powers of the stone. He searched the corpse and finally found the gem lying under the empress’s tongue. He removed the stone and kept it hidden on his own person. Immediately the King’s love was transferred from his dead wife to the courtier, to whom he now was irresistibly drawn. In indignation the courtier threw the stone into a hot spring on a trip to Cologne. After that no one was able to recover it. The King’s fondness for the knight did indeed cease, but now he felt himself miraculously drawn to the place, where the stone lay concealed. Here he founded the city of Aachen, which became his favorite place of residence.

To read another tale about Charlemagne:


http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/06/legend-of-charlemagne-and-strong-bonds.html


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Monday, June 21, 2010

Bevy of Butterflies





The butterfly is a symbol of transformation and rebirth in many folk traditions. Emerging from its cocoon as a beautiful, winged being, the butterfly underscores the impossibility of our seeing things as they really are. When we gaze upon cocoon or larva, we can barely grasp the creative energies at work below the surface. It is this astonishing process of transformation that is the heart of many a fairy tale. Some folk tales view the butterfly as a manifestation of the soul and in this capacity butterflies are also tied to elves and fairies.

I can only encourage you to take up the task of making your own butterflies. The pictures provided here do not really express the sheer joy conveyed by a bevy of such winged beings. Hand-made butterflies are the perfect token to commemorate all manner of life changing events. The good-humored butterfly looks gorgeous as a valentine, great as a birthday greeting and delightful around the anniversary cake. In short, it is appropriate to give a butterfly for any of life’s transformative events. All you need is paper, scissors and pipe cleaners. In some cases a bit of glue. Or if you prefer, order a butterfly-making kit. But do make the butterflies.



More Pictures of Fairy Tale Butterflies
How to Make Paper Fairy Tale Butterflies

FolkloreofButterflyproject.blogspot.com

Step-by-step, fool-proof instructions, make in minutes!

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Friday, June 18, 2010

A Bevy of Butterflies




























































































































For complete instructions how to make paper butterflies:


folkloreofbutterflyproject.com

More fairy tales can be found at:
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Saturday, June 12, 2010

The perfect husband found in this fairy tale from Latvia.



From Latvia: The Little White Dog


A stepmother treated her adopted daughter in a vile way. Although the girl did everything precisely as instructed, she could never satisfy the woman’s demands.

One day the stepdaughter was told to fetch water from the spring well, but in such a way that the pail would not get wet. The poor girl was desperate and cried bitter tears. Suddenly a little white dog came running up to her, as if it had sprung forth from the earth itself. The dog said “If you take me as husband, I will take care of the water.” And so the girl promised. The little dog ran out to do what it had promised, then vanished.

After some time another groom came round and requested the girl’s hand in marriage. She didn’t want to accept his offer, but her stepmother urged her to take him. There was nothing that could be done. On the evening before the wedding, the bridegroom arrived. Everyone rushed out to meet him, even the little white dog. The wedding guests all entered the house, but they left the little dog standing outside. All at once the animal began to sing:

“Let me come inside, my dear little girly,
For I am none other than your dear little burly,
At the well, remember the day,
When you gave to me your heart away?”

Everyone chuckled at the cheek of it all, but for the sake of a good laugh, they let the little dog come in.
The animal trotted into the parlor, gazed upon the bridegroom standing near the bride and began to sing once more:

“Take me as your own, my dear little girly,
It is I, your dear little burly!
At the well, remember the day,
When you gave to me your heart away?”

The bridegroom thought to himself: “What a sweet but odd little creature! We will have to let him sit with us, if he asks in such a polite manner!”

The little dog sat at the feet of the bride and was as quiet as a mouse. The next morning the engagement party began. Once again the little dog began to sing:

“Dear girl, take me as your groom,
Me, your little burly….”

The bride gave the little dog his portion of the feast, and it soon became quiet. After breakfast, they all got into their carriages and rode out to the church to celebrate the wedding. The little dog began to sing again:

“Dear girl, take me in your carriage,
Wed me, in marriage!”

[The groom had permitted his bride to take the dog along with her in the carriage as they rode to church. So they all drove out together.] When they finally arrived at the church, the clergyman began the wedding ceremony. At once the little dog began to sing in loud voice:

“Dear girl wed me in marriage,
Me, your little burly man….”

The pastor asked the bride: “What did you promise? Tell me everything because I can’t marry you until you do!”

The girl now admitted everything, from A to Z. The stepmother stamped her foot in rage, but nothing could be done. The pastor now refused to marry the couple, and the stepmother was momentarily constrained from taking out her anger on the girl. The groom was a compassionate fellow, he said: “Why my dear girl, didn’t you tell me the truth immediately and serve up pure wine? How was I to know your predicament?”

“I would have liked to tell you, but I was afraid of my stepmother!”

When the stepmother heard the accusation, she ran out of the church in rage and the little dog followed her. The stepmother wanted to seize the animal violently, but in that very moment, a beautiful coach arrived pulled by eight horses. A servant jumped down from the step, opened the carriage door and the little white dog jumped inside. Immediately it was transformed into a strapping young prince. The stepdaughter was then married to him and he took her away to his golden castle. But because the first groom had a good heart, he was elevated to the king’s closest advisor, because he had let the little dog in, allowed him to sit at the feet of the bride and took him in the carriage to the church.

Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:

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Wednesday, June 2, 2010

A Legend of Charlemagne and the Strong Bonds that Bind Us


June is the month of brides and rings and the ties that bind us.

Grimm’s Saga No. 458: A Legend of Charlemagne

The Ring in the Lake near Aachen

Petrarch, on his trip through Germany, heard a story told by priests in Aachen. The holy men purported it was true, for the story had been circulated by word of mouth for many years. In ancient times Charlemagne fell in love with a woman of lowly birth. The Kaiser’s love raged so violently for this woman, that he forgot all his worldly affairs and dropped all earthly pursuits. He even neglected his own body and appearance. His entire court was soon in disarray and many of his subjects became embarrassed by his passion, which showed no signs of diminishing. The beloved woman soon fell ill and died. The people now hoped that the Kaiser would abandon his love for the woman, but these hopes were all in vain. Instead he sat for hours with her corpse, kissed and caressed it and talked to it as if it were still alive. The dead body began to smell and decay but the Kaiser would not take leave from it. Finally Turpin, the archbishop, realized that some sort of magic must lie behind it all. When Charlemagne left the room the archbishop therefore carefully ran his hands over the corpse of the dead woman to see if he could not discover the source of the enchantment. Finally he found a ring in her mouth concealed under her tongue and he secretly removed it. When the Kaiser returned to the room he acted surprised, like someone who had just awakened from a deep sleep. He asked:

“Who carried this stinking corpse in here?” and in that very hour he ordered its burial. This was also carried out immediately. But instead of alleviating the problem the king’s strong affection was now re-directed to the archbishop, whom the Kaiser now followed incessantly. When this wise and pious man noticed the change, he recognized the power of the ring and feared it might fall into the wrong hands. That is why he threw it into the lake near the city. After that, the Kaiser loved the place so dearly, he could no longer find it in his heart to leave Aachen. He had a royal castle and cathedral built and spent the remainder of his days there. It was also in Aachen that he desired to be buried. He decreed that all royal successors would be anointed and inaugurated in that city.



To read a tale about Charlemagne and the Snake:

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Grimm's Fairy Tale No. 172: The Flounder



The mouth of a fish contemplated in a fairy tale:

For a long time the fish in the sea had been unhappy because there was no order in their kingdom. Fish did not give each other any leeway; each swam right and left, whatever he felt like. Some swam in between those who wanted to swim together. Others blocked the path and the stronger fish gave the weaker ones a slap with their tails, hurling them long distances. Or even worse, the bigger fish devoured the smaller ones. “How nice it would be if we had a king, who spoke law and justice amongst us,” they all said. They agreed they would vote one fish to be their leader; they would pick whoever could swim the fastest through the waves and bring help to the weaker ones.

They positioned themselves on shore, one after another in rank and file. The pike gave a sign with his tail and they all swam away. The pike shot through the waves like an arrow and the herring, gudgeon, perch, carp and all the rest as they are called followed after. The flounder also swam along and hoped to reach the finish line.

All at once a cry was heard “The herring is out in front! The herring is out in front!”

Who is out in front?” the bad-tempered flounder screamed morosely. He was swimming far behind. “Who is out in front?

The herring, the herring!” was the reply. “

The bare naked herring?” cried the envious flounder flabbergasted, “the bare naked herring?”

Since that time the mouth of the flounder has always been crooked as punishment for those unkind words.


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Monday, May 17, 2010

The Original May Queen, Tacitus and Led Zeppelin

Grimm’s Saga No. 365: The Sacred Sea of Hertha

Seven Germanic tribes lived between river and wood. They were called the Reudigner, Aviones, Angles, Warins, Eudoses, Suarthones and Nuithones*. They all worshipped Hertha, the Mother Earth, believing she involved herself in all human endeavors. The goddess came to the people driving a wagon. Her sacred forest, which had not been desecrated, was on an island in the sea. There her wagon stood enveloped by a cloth. Only a single priest was permitted to approach her. This priest knew the time when the goddess would appear in her sacred wagon. Two cows pulled her cart while everyone else followed behind reverently. Wherever the goddess went and whomever she honored with a visit, happiness and high times followed. No war was fought, no weapon seized, and everything made of iron was locked.

Peace and prosperity ruled the land and were desired by all. This lasted until the goddess had lived long enough among mortals; then the priest returned her to her sanctuary. The goddess along with wagon and cloth were then bathed in a remote lake. But the servants who assisted in this task were subsequently swallowed by its waters.

A secret terror and uncertain solemnity surrounded these matters, because anyone who witnessed the events, died immediately.

(*Names as recorded by Grimm).

A traipse through time: the trajectory of the May Queen, from pre-historical pagan ritual to Tacitus to the Brother's Grimm to Led Zeppelin to modern Druid celebrations.
This German saga by Grimm is based on an account by Tacitus. At first glance, the joyous spring procession described here might seem like a hippie-parade. The goddess Hertha (as translated by Grimm) or Nerthus (the name given her by Tacitus) is driving in a Zeltwagen, a cart covered with cloth or tent-like fabric (imagine a proto-historical VW camper, without any of the bells and whistles). This practical wagon was pulled on wooden wheels and served both as roving domicile and temple for the spring deity. Like a travel trailer, this goddess-vehicle was parked in a safe place for the winter, on an island in a sacred grove of trees. Hertha’s followers, male and female, probably all wore their hair long. According to Tacitus, many of the youthful male members of Germanic tribes combed their long locks to the side and tied these tresses into an enormous knot. Although Tacitus says these hair-dos were principally worn by young people, he sees this as a stature-enhancing ploy not tied to notions of beauty or adornment. Such hair-raising practices were intended to shock onlookers, especially enemies. The spring procession coincided with the first sprouting tree buds and it was the responsibility of the priest-consort to determine when this happened. The ritual was not without danger because the goddess- and cart-bathers did not survive after the wagon was returned to its garage for the winter. Most likely the helpers were slaves, who were subsequently pushed into the water and drowned. Although the spring procession ushered in a period of peace and prosperity (because tribes now turned their attentions to the more important pastimes of growing food and fishing from the sea) an underlying sense of terror and horror was never far from the surface of such celebrations. Remnants of the spring festival survived into the 12th century and beyond. But the goddess was now called the Pfingstkoenigin or Pentecost Queen. Later she was celebrated as the May Queen and her priest-consort became the May King. She was placed on a throne, draped in fine white cloth and honored with song and dance. In the seventies Led Zeppelin revived the May Queen in the popular rock ballad Stairway to Heaven. With her nature-loving ways (roving around in a camper, long hair and summer filled with music, love and peace, not to mention the high times that followed her) it is perhaps no wonder she was popular in the seventies. But May Queen celebrations have continued to the present, see the link below

To see a 2008 Druid's Beletane Celebration of the Blessing of the May Queen and King in Glastonbury, England hit the link and type in Druids' Beltane Celebration 2008 in the search box:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3UHrhfeKHY


If you have the Sitzfleisch and can sit through the whole song, you can see wonderful hair and rather slow-moving pictures of Led Zeppelin performing Stairway to Heaven:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9TGj2jrJk8


Or visit http://www.ledzeppelin.com/
and type in Stairway to Heaven


To read more fairy tales, click on the link:

FairyTaleChannel.com



Friday, May 14, 2010

An Ancient Tribe of Swiss Gnomes called the Gotwergeni

Life on the land can be quite hectic in springtime.
(Click on picture to enlarge.)

For people living close to the land, spring is a busy time and there are never enough helping hands to accomplish all the chores. In this saga lucky farmers in Switzerland are helped by a strange tribe of gnomes until scorn drives the creatures away. Another testimony to the hubris of mortals and a reminder to all gardeners to treat gnomes kindly.

In ancient times the Gotwergeni or gnomes were also at home in the Saas Valley region of Switzerland. In caves and cliffs they made their secret dwellings, where they practiced their peaceful arts and pursued their strange existence. This shy folk eschewed the light of day.

To good people they were known as helpers when there was hard work or distress or danger. They tended the cattle at night, watched over a sick animal in the stall, did their work in the fields of corn or hay when everyone else was sleeping and made sure misfortune did not visit the sleeper. But they were quiet and timid around the houses of godless men.

On starry nights they held their merry meetings on lonely boulders or in a quiet clearing in the larch forest.

But ungratefulness and malice took over the hearts of men and the Gotwergeni departed from the Saas Valley and settled in the crags and cliffs of Zeneggen. And when the people of the Zenegg savagely drove them off, the gnome folk left the region for ever.

Today there is a Gotwergeni grave at Mellig above the Hannig Alps which still reminds us of this lively little folk.

Behind Zermeiggern, the last continuously settled area of the Sass Valley, on the path to the Mattmark Lake, a rock slide ravaged the area in ancient times. A giant sea of boulders remains, today called the ABC-Gufer (gravel pile), and reminds the hiker of this avalanche. There is a Gotwergeni hole in the gravel, which once served the gnomes as dwelling.



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Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Fairy Tale of Horse and Fox



Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 132 Fox and Horse

A farmer had a trusted horse, but it had become so old it could no longer work. His master, not wanting to feed him anymore, said “I don’t need you now, but I still want to be good to you. Show me that you are strong enough to bring me a lion. Then I will keep you. But now go and leave my stall,” and he chased the horse far into the field. 

The horse was sad and went into the forest to find protection from the weather. He met the fox, who asked “Why are you hanging your head so and walking around alone?” “Oh,” the horse replied, “Stinginess and trust cannot live together in one house: my master forgot the service I performed faithfully for so many years and because I can no longer toil in the fields, he doesn’t want to feed me and has chased me away.” “Without giving you any consolation?” the fox asked. “The consolation was poor. He said, if I were strong enough to bring him a lion, he would keep me, but he knows that I can’t do that.” 

The fox replied “I will help you. Lie down and don’t move. Act as if you were dead.” The horse did what the fox asked. But the fox went to the lion, whose cave was nearby, “Out there lies a dead horse. Come out with me and you shall have a fine meal!” 

The lion went out and when they stood next to the horse the fox said “It’s not as nice here as you are usually accustomed to. You know what? I will tie your tail to the horse, so you can pull it in your cave and eat it in peace.” The lion liked this piece of advice. He positioned himself so that the fox could tie the horse to him. He stood very still. But the fox tied the lion’s feet together with the horse’s tail, and turned and pulled it tight so that it could not be broken by any amount of strength. When he had finished, he tapped the horse on the shoulder and said “Horse, pull.” 

The horse jumped up and pulled the lion away. The lion began to bellow so loud that the birds flew out of the trees, but the horse pulled him over the field to his master’s door. When the master saw everything, he saw the error of his ways and said to the horse “From now on you shall stay with me and have a good life and he gave him plenty of food to eat until he died.



To read more fairy tales, click on the link:

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Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Garden-States and Merry Mornings


"Through the hedge and down the furrow,
Till he gets into his burrow." (Nicholas Breton)

This is the time gardeners take a closer look at the state of things. We relish the dewy morning and the glorious task of turning up the soil. We plow furrows in neat rows and plan where the cabbage and turnips will go. This is the season of lush green grass and clouds of lilacs in bloom. It’s only fitting to read a fairy tale in which the primary action takes place in the garden, down in the furrow to be exact!


The Buxtehude Hedgehog (Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 187)

(Or: The Hare and the Hedgehog)

This story is really a lie, but there is some truth in it, for my grandfather who told the story to me, always said the following when he told it: “True it must be, my son, or you wouldn’t be able to tell it.” The story happened this way. It was a Sunday morning in autumn, just when the buckwheat was blooming, the sun had risen on the horizon and the wind blew softly through the stubble. The larks sang as they soared high in the air and the bees hummed busily round the buckwheat. People wore their Sunday best to church and all creatures were cheerful, the hedgehog too. He stood in front of his door with his arms crossed and looked out into the morning sunshine. He warbled a little song and sang as beautifully as any hedgehog can sing on a Sunday morning. While he stood there and trilled like a little bird, he suddenly had the idea that while his wife was washing and dressing the children, he would go out and take a little walk in the field to see how the turnips were doing. The turnips grew quite close to his house and it was his habit and that of his family to eat them. That is why he considered them to be his own.

No sooner thought than done. He closed the front door behind him and took the path to the field. He had not gone very far and was just about to go round the blackthorn bush, which marked the edge of the field, when he saw the hare. The hare was walking on ahead engaged in similar pursuits, namely looking after his cabbage. When the hedgehog saw the hare, he wished him good morning in a cordial way. But the hare, who in his own right was a distinguished gentleman and furthermore, was terribly conceited, did not respond to the hedgehog’s greeting. Instead with a scornful countenance he replied icily: “How is that you are already running about so early in the morning?”
“I’m going for a walk,” the hedgehog replied.
“A walk?” laughed the hare. “You should use your little legs for better things.”
This remark annoyed the hedgehog very much, who was a very good-natured fellow. He could tolerate anything except disparaging remarks about his legs, because they were naturally crooked.
“You imagine that you could do more with your legs?” he said.
“I do indeed,” the hare replied.
“Well, we will have to try it then,” the hedgehog said. “I bet that if we run a race, I will run faster than you.”
“You – with your crooked little legs?” the hare said. “That’s rich! But if you have such a keen desire let’s have a go at it – what shall we wager?”
“One gold coin and one bottle of brandy,” the hedgehog said.
“Accepted,” replied the hare. “Go ahead and we can start the race right now.”
“No, there is no need for such haste,” the hedgehog replied. “I haven’t had anything to eat. I want to go home first and have some breakfast. I’ll be back in an hour.”

With that, he left and the hare was satisfied. But on the way home he thought to himself: “The hare is counting that his long legs will win the day, but I will show him. He is indeed a refined gentleman but a stupid rabbit, and for that he will pay.” When he arrived home he said to his wife: “Wifey, dear, get dressed quickly, you must go with me to the field.”
“What is it?” his wife asked.
“I have made a bet with the hare for one gold coin and one bottle of brandy that I will win a race with him. And you will be there.”
“O my God, husband,” the wife began to cry, “Have you lost your mind? How can you race the hare?”
“Woman, silence your blabbermouth,” the hedgehog said, “that is my concern. Don’t interfere with a man’s business! Go now, get dressed and come along!”
What else could the wife of the hedgehog do? She had to comply but she did not like it. When they were walking together the hedgehog said to his wife: “Now listen very carefully to what I say. I will run the race up there in the long field. The hare will run in one furrow and I in the other. We will start up there. You have nothing else to do but to wait down here in the furrow. And when the hare comes running in his furrow, call out to him as he approaches and say: “I’m already here!”

And so they arrived in the field. The hedgehog indicated the spot to his wife and went up the hill. When he arrived at the top, the hare was already there. “Can we begin?” he asked.
“Of course,” the hedgehog replied.
“Then let’s go.”

Each positioned himself in his furrow. The hare counted: “On your mark, get set, go!” and off he ran down the hill like the rushing gale wind. But the hedgehog ran only three steps, then he crouched down in the furrow and sat there calmly. And when the hare arrived down below at the finish line at full speed, the hedgehog wife called out to him “I’m already here!”

The hare was astonished not a little, but believed that the hedgehog stood before him. For it is well-known that Mrs. Hedgehog looks exactly like her husband. “Something is quite strange here,” he cried out. “Let’s race again, in the opposite direction!”
And once again the hare took off like the storm wind and his long rabbit ears were pressed down to his skull. The wife of the hedgehog remained sitting calmly in her place, and when the hare arrived Mr. Hedgehog called out to the hare “I’m already here!”
The hare was beside himself with rage and cried “Once more, the other way!”
“All right,” the hedgehog replied. “As often as you wish.” So the hare ran seventy-three times, and the hedgehog always kept up. Each time, when the hare arrived at the top of the field or arrived at the finish line at the bottom, the hedgehog or his wife called out “I’m already here!”.

But the seventy-fourth time, the hare did not arrive at the finish line. He fell to the ground in the middle of the field, blood came out of his nose and he lay dead. The hedgehog took the gold coin and bottle of brandy that were his prize and called to his wife at the end of the furrow. Cheerfully they returned home. And if they have not died, they are still living today. And so it happened that on the Buxtehude Heath the hedgehog ran the hare to death and since that time no other hare has dared to run a race with the Buxtehude hedgehog.

The moral of the story is, first, no one (regardless of how distinguished he might be) should make fun of a small man, even if the small man is only a hedgehog. And second, it’s a very good idea to marry a woman of your own stature, one that looks exactly like you. Whoever is a hedgehog must make sure that his wife is also a hedgehog.

More gardening fairy tales:


http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2008/06/grimms-saga-no-17-giantesss-plaything.html

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/05/from-gore-to-garden-french-fairy-tale.html

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/07/king-of-all-carrots.html

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