Once on 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.” “Thou wouldst go out
with me?” said the father. “Stay here, thou wilt be of no use out
there, besides thou mightest 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 was there, a great giant
came over the hill. “Do thou see that great bogie?” said the father,
for he wanted to frighten the little fellow to make him good; “he is
coming to fetch thee.” 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.
The giant, however, carried him home, suckled him, 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 try him,
and said, “Pull up a stick for thyself.” 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 tried 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 proper stick for me,” the boy tore up the strongest
oak-tree from the earth, so that it split, and that was a mere trifle
to him. “Now that will do,” said the giant, “thou art 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?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account