Fairytales of Famous Authors Compared to Disney Cartoons with proper respect etc

Story 86: The Two Traveling Companions Brothers' Grimm 1812

The Two Traveling Companions

Hill and Dale never meet, but among the sons of man the good and the bad sometimes do. And so it once came about a traveling tailor fell in with a traveling shoemaker. The Tailor was nice-looking fellow, always happy and cheerful. He saw the shoemaker coming along in the opposite direction, and recognizing him his trade by the shape of his knapsack, greeted him with a song:

"Sew the seam
Draw the thread,
Rub it right and left with pitch,
hit the nail right on the head."

But this particular shoemaker couldn't take a joke. He screwed up his face as if he'd been drinking vinegar and it looked as if he were going to bite the tailor's head off. But the little fellow began to laugh, handed him his bottle, and said: "I meant no harm. Take a drink and malow down your gal!.» The shoemaker took a good long drink and the storm on his face began to blow over. He gave back the bot-de and said: "That was quite a swig. People talk about heavy drink-ing, but do they know how thirsty a man can get? What would you sy to our traveling together?" "Suits me," said the tailor, "if you don't mind heading for a big town where there's plenty of work."
"That was just my idea," said the shoemaker. "There's no money to be made in the villages, and in the country the people would just as soon go barefoot." So they went on together, putting one foot in front of the other as weasels do in the snow.
They had plenty of time but very little to eat. When they came to a town, they went to see their fellow craftsmen. Everyone was glad to give the tailor a little something because he looked so bright and cheerful and had such rosy red cheeks, and on his lucky days a mater tailor's daughter might stop in the doorway with him and give a kiss for the road. When he rejoined his traveling companion, he alvays had more in his pack shan the stoemaker. The cranly ho haker made a sour face and said. "The bigger the rascal the box. statis lick" But the tailor only laughed and sung and shared with his terna waaterer the people had given him. Whenever he had a few froschen in his pocket, he ordered something good, and in his joy frosted the table so hard the glasses danced. His motto was: "Tasy,
come, easy go."
After traveling for some time, they came to a great forest. There were two paths through it and both led to the capital city, but one took seven days and the other only two, and the travelers didn't know which was which. They sat down under an oak tree to decide what preparations to make and how much bread they would need The shoemaker said. "A man should think ahead. I mean to take enough bread for seven days." "What!" said the tailor. "Weigh myself down like a mule so I can't even see to left or right? I trust in God and let Him do the worrying. The money in my pocket is as good in summer as in winter, but bread gets dry and moldy in hot weather. The longest coat has to stop at the feet. Why wouldn't we find the right way? A two days' supply of bread is plenty, say I?" So each bought his own supply of bread, and they started out.
The forest was as still as a church. Not a breeze stirred, not a brook murmured, not a bird sang, and not a ray of sunshine found its way through the dense leaves. The shoemaker didn't say a word, his bread supply weighed heavy on his back, and the sweat ran down his sulky, peevish face. But the tailor was as cheerful as usual, hopping and skipping, whistling with a blade of grass, or singing a song. "The Lord must be pleased to see me so merry," he thought. That's how it was for the first two days. On the third day, when the forest showed no sign of coming to an end and the tailor had eaten all his bread, he wasn't quite as chipper as he had been, but he didn't lose heart and he went on trusting in God and his luck. At the end of the third day he lay down hungry at the foot of a tree, and he rose up hungry the next morning. By the end of the fourth day he was even hungrier, and when the shoemaker sat down on a fallen tree to eat his bread, the tailor could only look on. When he asked for a piece of bread, the other laughed scornfully and said: "You've always been so cheer-ful. Now you can see what it's like to be gloomy. Birds that sing too early in the morning get clawed by the hawk before nightfall." In short he was mercalsouldnt uter, morning the poor tailor was too start to get up and couldn't uter a word. His checks were wice mad his eyes were red. "TIll give you a piece of bread," said the shoes maker. "But to make up for it I'm going to put your right eye out." The poor tailor wanted to live, so he couldn't say no. For the last ime he wept with both eyes and then the shoemaker, who had a heart of stone, cut out his right eye with a sharp knifc. The tailor Iemembered what his mother had said when she had caught him hibbling in the pantry. "Hat as you will, suffer as you must?" After eating his hard-earned bread, he started off again, forgot his misfor. lune, and consoled himself with the thought that he could still see pretty well with his one eye. But on the sixth day his hunger gnawed it his heart and that night he collapsed under a tree. On the seventh morning he was too weak to get up, and death was breathing down his neck. "All right," said the shoemaker. "Tll take pity on you. FI give you another piece of bread, but I'm going to put out your other eye to make up for it" At these words the tailor saw the folly of his ways, begged God for forgiveness, and said: "Do what you must. I'll suffer as I must. But remember this: the Lord judges in His own good time. Some day your wickedness will be punished, for I've given you no cause to treat me like this. When things went well with me, I shared what I had with you. My trade calls for even stitches.
Without eyes I won't be able to sew and I'll have to beg. But at least, when you've blinded me, don't leave me here alone to starve." The shoemaker, who had banished God from his heart, took his knife and cut the tailor's left eye out. Then he gave him a piece of bread, put a stick into his hand, and led him away.
As the sun was setting, they came out of the forest, and there in a field stood a gallows. The shoemaker left the blind tailor at the foot of the gallows, and continued on his way. Racked with pain and hun-ger, the poor tailor lay down and slept all night. When he awoke in the gray of dawn, he didn't know where he was. Two corpses were hanging there, each with a crow perched on his head. "Brother," said the first corpse. "Are you awake?" "Yes," said the second. "I'm awake." "Then," said the first, "I've got something to tell you. If a bind man bathes in the dew that fell on us tonight, he'll get his eyes back. If they only knew it, many a blind man, who never dared hope, would recover his eyesight." When the tailor heard that, he took his handkerchidf and presed is against the grease When it was wot wig tan he bashed his eye sockets and what the hanged man had ad dare tie instantly a pair of sound new yos srew into the socken. cans the talor saw the sun rising over the mountains, and before his Soone phain hay the capital ciry with its magnificent gates and is An died towers, and the golden balls and crosses atop the church pares began to gliten. He was able to distingnish every leaf on the spites he saw birds lying by and gnats dancing in the air. He took a needle out of his pocket and when he succeeded in threading it as niel as ever, his heart leaped for joy. He fell down on his knees, thanked God for His mercy and said his morning prayers. He didn't even forget to pray for the poor sinners who were hanging there like bell clappers, jangling in the wind. (This is a character who has the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling inside his heart for me the fruits of the Spirit are already there inside you if you ask the Holy Spirit to dwell in your heart and then you're baptized in fire because that's The Holy Spirit's job to baptize people in his fire––Lumna10) Then he picked up his bundle, forgot the misery he had endured, and went his way singing and whistling.
The first living thing he came across was a brown foal running loose in a field. He caught the foal by the mane, meaning to climb on and ride to town. But the foal begged for his freedom, saying: "I'm too young. Even a skinny little tailor like you would break my back.
Leave me be until I grow strong. A time may come when I can repay you." "Frisk away," said the tailor.
"I can see you're a gadabout like
me." He flicked him on the back with a switch, the foal kicked up his heels and ran away, leaping over hedges and ditches.
The little tailor hadn't eaten a thing since the day before. "My eyes are full of sunlight," he said. "But what's to fill my belly? The first halfway edible creature that crosses my path is in for it." Just then a stork came striding solemnly across the meadow. "Stop!" cried the tailor, grabbing him by the leg. "I don't know how good to eat you are, but my hunger leaves me no choice. I'lI just have to cut your head off and cook you." "Oh no," said the stork. "You mustn't do that. I'm a sacred bird and a friend to man. No one ever harms me. If you spare my life, I'll repay you some day." "All right, Cousin Longlegs," said the tailor. "Get moving?" The stork rose into the air and flew majestically away, letting his long legs trail behind him.
"What's to become of me?" said the tailor to himself. "My hunger gets greater and greater and my stomach emptier and emptier. Any creature that comes along now is lost." Just then he saw some ducklings swimming on a pond. "Well met!" he cried, and quickly caught one of them. He was just going to wring its neck when the mother duck, who had been hidden by the rushes, let out a scream, and swam to meet him and implored him to spare her darling children. it gang ousine," she said, "how your mother would feel if someone were to pick you up and do away with you " Calm yourself," said the kind-hearted tailor, "I wouldn't think of harming any of your children." And he put his captive back in the water.
Aw hen he turned around he saw an old tree that was partly hollow.
The wild bees were Aying in and out. "Here's my reward for my food deed," he said. "The honey will still my hunger!" At that my gent the queen bee few out and threatened him, saying: "If you lay mads on my swarm and destroy my nest, our stings will pierce you the ten thousand red-hot needles. But if you leave us in peace and go you way, we shall do you a favor one of these days."
Again the tailor saw there was no help for it, and said to himself:
Three empty dishes and nothing in the fourth is a poor meal." He dragged himself into the town with his ravening stomach, and since the clock had just struck twelve, his meal was ready when he got to the inn. He sat right down to eat, and when he had finished, he said:
Now let's get to work." He explored the town, looking for a master tailor, and soon found one who was ready to employ him. As the lit-de tailor knew all the ins and outs of his trade, it wasn't long before he became famous and everyone wanted to order a new coat from him. His reputation grew and grew. "My work is no better than it was," he said to himself. "Yet business keeps improving." In the end the king appointed him court tailor.
But what a small world it is! On the very same day his former comrade the shoemaker became court shoemaker. When he caught sight of the tailor and saw that he had two sound eyes, his conscience troubled him, and he thought: "I'd better set a trap for him before he takes his revenge on me." But whosoever sets a trap for others is likely to fall into it himself. At nightfall that same day when the shoemaker had finished his work, he crept secretly to the king and said: "Your Majesty, that tailor is a boastful fellow. He claims he can bring back the golden crown that was lost in olden times." "That
would be most welcome." said the king. Next morning he sent for the tailor and ordered him to bring back the crown or leave the town forever. "Oho!" thought the tailor. "Only a rogue gives more than bet got If the armnly old king and comorrows ringething the do lies so being can do, why vai is bundle and start is lare stier trough the cown gate benica dan and a Grading sory to b. passdaring his good forume betind tir ted using his back on. pace where he had been doing a celt the soo came to the pond place he had made the acquaintance of the ducks. The old mother duck, whose young ones he had spared, was sitting on the bank preening hersef with her bill. She recognized him right away and asked why he was looking so woebegone. "You'll understand, and the tailor, "when I tell you what has happened to me."
And he told her the whole story. "If that's all" said the duck, "we can help you.
The crown fell in the water and it's lying on the bottom of the pond. We'll bring it up for you in no time. Just spread out your handkerchief on the bank." She dived under with her twelve ducklings and in five minutes they all came up again. The mother duck was inside the crown; it rested on her wings and the twelve ducklings had formed a circle around it, holding it up with their bills and helping her support it. They all swam ashore and laid the crown on the handkerchief.
You can't imagine how beautiful that crown was. When the sun shone on it, it glittered like a thousand rubies. The tailor gathered up the four corners of the handkerchief and took the crown to the king, who was overjoyed and hung a golden chain around the tailor's neck.
When the shoemaker saw that his trick had come to nothing, he thought up another. He went to the king and said: "Your Majesty, that tailor has been boasting again. He says he can make a wax replica of the whole royal palace with everything in it, furniture and all." The king sent for the tailor and ordered him to make a wax replica of the whole royal palace with everything in it, furniture and all, and if he failed to do it or if so much as a nail on the wall should be missing, he'd be shut up in an underground dungeon for the rest of his life.
The tailor thought: "This is getting worse and worse. It's more than anyone could bear." So he slung his bundle over his shoulder and left town. When he came to the hollow tree, he sat down and hung his head. The bees came flying out, and the queen asked him: "Why are you holding your head in that strange way? Have you got a stiff neck?" "Oh no," said the tailor. "I've got a different kind of trouble?" And he told her what the king had asked of him. The queen bee said: "Just go home now, but come back tomorrow at the same time and everything will be all right." So he went home and the bees flew straight to the royal palace. They swarmed through the open windows and crawled into every nook and cranny, taking notes of everything they saw. Them they flew back home and built a wax replica of the royal palace so quickly you'd have thought it was growing before your eyes. It was fnished that same evening. When the tailor came back in the morning, there was the whole splendid palace, and not a nail on the wall or a tile on the roof was mising.
What's more, it was snowy-white and wonderfully delicate, and it spelled like honey. The tailor wrapped it carefully in his cloth and brought it to the king, who couldn't get over his amazement, displayed the wax replica in his largest hall, and rewarded the tailor with a big stone house.
But the shoemaker didn't give up. He went to the king a third time and said: "Your Majesty, someone has told the tailor that no one has ever struck water in the palace courtyard, and now he claims he can make a fountain right in the middle of it that will send up a man-high column of crystal-clear water." The king sent for the tailor and said:
'If by tomorrow there's not a fountain such as you promised in my courtyard, my executioner will shorten you by a head in that same courtyard." The poor tailor didn't waste much time thinking. He hurried out through the town gate, and seeing as this time his life was at stake, the tears ran down his cheeks. As he was walking along so deep in gloom, the foal he had once set free came bounding up to him. He had grown up to be a fine chestnut horse. "The time has come," he said, "for me to repay you for your kindness. I know what your trouble is, and I can help you. Climb up on my back, I could carry two like you now." The tailor took heart. He jumped up on the horse's back and the horse galloped through the town gate and straight to the palace courtyard. Quick as lightning, he circled the courtyard three times, and after the third time he fell to the ground.
A terrible crash was heard, a clod of earth rose into the air like a cannonball and passed over the palace. It was followed by a stream of water that rose as high as a man on horseback. The water was as clear as crystal and the sunbeams danced in it. When the king saw that, he jumped in a amazement and went and embraced the tailor in front of his whole court.
But the tailor's good fortune was short-lived. The king had plenty of daughters, one more beautiful than the next, but no sons. The wicked shoemaker went to the king for the fourth time and said:
"Your Majesty, thar tailor is still as boastful as ever. Now he says that he wanted to he could arrange for a son to be brought to You Maesty through the air." The king sent for the tailor and said. ' you have a son brought to me within nine days, you shall marry my oldest daughter." "The reward is great," thought the little tailor do a good deal for it. But the fruit is too high for me. If I reach out for it, the bough will break under me and I'll fall to the ground." He went home, sat down cross-legged on his work table and pondered. What was he to do?
At length he cried out: "No! This is impossible. "There's no peace for me here, I'm leaving." He packed up his bundle and hurried out through the town gate. When he reached the meadows, he caught sight of his old friend the stork, who was pacing the ground as solemnly as a philosopher, stopping now and then to scrutinize a frog and, after satisfying his curiosity, gobble it up. The stork came up to him and bade him good day.
"I see you've got your knapsack on your back," he said. "Why have you decided to leave town?" The tailor told him what the king had demanded of him, and bewailed his misfortune. "Don't grow any gray hairs over that," said the stork. "I'll help you out. I've been bringing babies to this town longer than I can remember. Why shouldn't I get a little prince out of the well for a change? Go home and don't worry. Be at the royal palace in nine days and wait for me." The little tailor did just as the stork had said. He went to the palace on the ninth day and hadn't long to wait before the stork tapped at the window. When the tailor opened it, Cousin Longlegs came in very gingerly and strode gravely across the smooth marble floor. In his beak he held a baby, who was as beautiful as an angel and held out his little arms to the queen. The stork set the little boy down on her lap, and she hugged him and kissed him and was beside herself with joy. Before flying away, the stork took his knapsack and handed it to the queen. In it there were little bags full of colored candies. These were divided among the princesses, but the eldest didn't get any. She got the merry tailor for a husband. "I feel as if I'd drawn the winning ticket," said the tailor. "My Mother was right when she said. "If you trust in God and your a luck is good, you'll want for nothing."
The shoemake had to make the shoes the tallor danced in at the wedding. Then he was ordered to leave the town forever. On his way into the forest he came to the fallows, Exhausted with rage and heat of the day, he threw himself on the ground. When he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, the two crows swooped down from heads of the hanged men with loud cries and pecked his eyes the. Maddened with pain, he ran off into the forest, and there he must have vanished, for he was never seen or heard of again.