Array The Brothers Grimm - Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm - A New English Version

Two Eyes could hardly wait. She said the shortest grace she knew: ‘Lord, be our guest now and for ever, Amen.’ Then she sat down and ate all she wanted. It was all so delicious that she had a little bit of everything, and when she was full up she said:

and the table vanished in the blink of an eye.

‘Well, I like that sort of housekeeping,’ thought Two Eyes, and she was happier than she’d been for years.

When she got home with the goat that evening, she found an old clay pot with a bit of cold greasy stew in the bottom that her sisters had left for her, but she didn’t touch it. And in the morning all there was for her were the crumbs from the toast they’d made, but she didn’t eat those either. The first couple of times that happened her sisters didn’t see, because they usually ignored whatever she did, but when it happened the next day, and the next, they couldn’t help noticing.

‘What’s up with Two Eyes? She’s not eating.’

‘I bet she’s up to something.’

‘Probably got someone to bring her a picnic. Greedy cow.’

‘Typical!’

They thought they’d better try and find out what was going on, so next time Two Eyes took the goat out to pasture, One Eye said to her, ‘I think I’ll come with you. I’m not sure you’re looking after the goat properly.’

Two Eyes guessed what One Eye was up to. She took the goat out to the usual meadow, where there was plenty for it to eat, and then she said, ‘Come and sit down, One Eye. I’ll sing you a song.’

One Eye was tired, because she’d had more exercise walking out to the meadow than she’d had for weeks, and besides, the warm sun was making her drowsy. So she slumped down in the shade and Two Eyes began to sing:

One Eye’s single eyelid drooped and sank lower and lower and finally she started snoring. Once Two Eyes was sure her sister was fast asleep, she said:

And at once the magic table appeared, and on it there was leek soup, roast chicken and strawberries and cream. Two Eyes ate as much as she wanted and then said:

and the table vanished.

Two Eyes woke One Eye and said, ‘Didn’t you say you wanted to help me look after the goat? You’ve been asleep all day! She could have run away and fallen in the river. Lucky I was here. Come on, let’s go home.’

They went home, and once again Two Eyes left her scraps of food untouched. This time it was a few crusty bits of burnt pastry. Three Eyes and their mother couldn’t wait to hear what had happened out in the meadow, but all One Eye could say was, ‘I dunno. I fell asleep. Well, it was hot.’

‘Useless!’ said their mother. ‘Tomorrow, you go, Three Eyes. There must be something going on.’

So next morning Three Eyes said to Two Eyes, ‘I’m coming with you today, and I’m going to keep a close eye on what you’re up to.’

Off they went with the little goat. Two Eyes could see at once that Three Eyes was up to the same trick as One Eye had been, so as soon as they were safely in the meadow and Three Eyes had slumped down by the hedge, she began to sing:

But then instead of singing, as she meant to,

she sang:

And she kept singing:

Gradually two of Three Eyes’s eyes closed as they became drowsy, but the third one didn’t close because Two Eyes hadn’t sung it to sleep. Three Eyes let the eyelid droop and seem to close, but she was only pretending. That eye could see perfectly.

When Two Eyes thought Three Eyes was asleep, she sang:

The table appeared at once. This time there was beetroot soup, a big meat pie and a delicious cake. Two Eyes ate and drank happily till she was full, and then sang:

and the table disappeared.

Three Eyes was watching everything, but she closed her third eye quickly when Two Eyes came over to wake her up.

‘Come on, Three Eyes!’ said Two Eyes. ‘You’ve been asleep all day. It’s a good thing I was here to look after the goat. Come on, let’s go home.’

When they got back to the house, Two Eyes again refused the food they gave her. It was the water some cabbage had been boiled in.

The mother took Three Eyes aside and said, ‘Well? What happened? Did you see?’

‘Yes, I did. She tried to send me to sleep, but my third eye stayed awake. What she does is sing to the goat like this:

and a table all covered with lovely food just comes out of nowhere and she eats as much as she wants. Then she sings:

and it disappears. Honest! It’s true! I saw it. She put two of my eyes to sleep, but the third one stayed awake.’

Well, the mother was furious when she heard that. She yelled, ‘Two Eyes! Come here at once! What makes you think you’re better than us, eh? Playing magic tricks with the goat! How dare you! I’ll make you sorry, just you watch.’

And she took the biggest knife in the kitchen and stabbed the little goat in the heart, so that it fell dead on the floor.

Two Eyes ran outside at once and ran all the way to the meadow, and burst into tears. She sobbed and sobbed for the poor little goat, which had never done anything wrong, and for herself, too.

Then she realized that the wise woman was standing there.

‘Why are you crying, Two Eyes?’ she said.

‘I can’t help it,’ said Two Eyes. ‘My mother stabbed the poor little goat in the heart and killed it, and now it’s dead and I’ll never be able to ask it for a table of food again.’

‘Let me give you some good advice,’ said the wise woman. ‘Ask your sisters to give you the entrails of the goat, and bury them in the garden near the front door. That will bring you luck.’

Then she disappeared. Two Eyes went slowly home and said to her sisters, ‘I’d like to have something to remember the goat by. Can I just have the entrails?’

‘Well, if that’s all you want,’ said One Eye, and Three Eyes said, ‘Oh, let her have them. She might stop snivelling then.’

Two Eyes put the entrails of the goat in the washing-up bowl and carried them out to the front garden, where she buried them in a little patch of grass.

Next morning there was a beautiful tree standing there. Its leaves were made of silver, and among them there were dozens of fruits the size of apples, made of solid gold. No one had ever seen a lovelier tree, and of course no one had any idea about how it had grown in the night; only Two Eyes knew, because it was growing in the spot where she’d buried the entrails of the goat.

As soon as the mother saw it, she said, ‘Up you go, One Eye, climb up and get some of that golden fruit.’

One Eye climbed up, huffing and puffing, and tried, but each time she reached for a golden apple, the branch pulled itself up out of her reach. She grabbed for this one and that one, but she couldn’t so much as touch one, no matter what she did.