Ганс Андерсен - Fairy Tales

“Oh, it’s from my horse-hide. I sold it last night.”

“That was really a good deal!” Big Claus said, ran right home, took an axe, struck all four of his horses in the head, skinned them, and drove off with them to town.

“Hides! Hides! Who wants hides?!” he shouted through the streets.

All the shoemakers and tanners came running and asked what he wanted for them.

“A bushel full of money each,” Big Claus said.

“Are you nuts?” they all asked him, “Do you think we have bushels of money?”

“Hides! Hides! Who wants hides?!” he shouted again, but to everyone who asked how much they cost, he answered, “A bushel full of money.”

“He’s making fun of us,” they all agreed. Then the shoemakers took their straps, and the tanners took their leather aprons, and they started to beat Big Claus.

“Hides! Hides!” they mimicked him. “We’ll give you a hide that’ll be both black and blue! Out of town with you!” they shouted, and Big Claus had to ski-daddle out of there as fast as he could, for he had never been thrashed so much in his life.

“Little Claus is going to get it!” he said when he got home. “I’m going to kill him for this.”

But back at Little Claus’ house, his old grandmother was dead. Even though she had been cross and mean to him, he was pretty sad anyway, and he took the dead woman and laid her in his warm bed to see if she would come back to life. She could lie there the whole night, and he himself would sit on a stool in the corner and sleep. He had done that before.

As he sat there during the night, the door opened, and Big Claus came in with his axe. He must have known exactly where Little Claus’ bed was because he went right over to it and hit the dead grandmother on the head, thinking it was Little Claus.

“So there!” he said. “You won’t fool me again!” and then he went home.

“That is really a bad and mean man,” said Little Claus, “He wanted to kill me. It’s a good thing for the old lady that she was already dead, or he would have killed her.”

Then he dressed the old grandmother in her best Sunday clothes, borrowed a horse from his neighbor, hitched it to the carriage, and set the grandmother up in the backseat, so that she couldn’t fall out while he was driving, and away they went through the forest. When the sun came up, they were outside a large inn. Little Claus stopped there and went inside to get something to eat.

The innkeeper had lots of money and was also a very kind man, but he was quick-tempered, as if he were full of pepper and tobacco.

“Good morning,” he said to Little Claus, “You’re out early in your fancy clothes today.”

“Yes,” Little Claus said, “I’m on my way to town with my old grandmother. She’s sitting out there in the carriage, and I can’t get her into the inn. Would you please take her a glass of mulled wine? But you have to speak loudly because she’s very hard of hearing.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” said the innkeeper and poured a large glass of wine that he took out to the dead grandmother, who was propped up in the carriage.

“That is really a bad and mean man. ”

“Here’s a glass of wine from your son,” said the innkeeper, but the dead woman didn’t say a word, just sat completely still.

“Can’t you hear?” shouted the innkeeper as loudly as he could. “Here’s a glass of wine from your son.”

He shouted it again and again, but when she didn’t budge an inch, he got mad and threw the glass right into her face so the wine ran down over her nose, and she fell over backwards in the carriage since she was just propped up, not tied.

“What’s this!” yelled Little Claus. He ran out of the door and grabbed the innkeeper, “You’ve killed my grandmother! Look here—she has a big hole in her forehead!”

“Oh, it was an accident!” cried the innkeeper and clasped his hands together. “It’s all because of my quick temper. Oh, sweet Little Claus, I’ll give you a whole bushel of money and have your grandmother buried as if she were my own, but just don’t say anything about it, or they’ll chop my head off, and that’s so unpleasant.”

Then Little Claus got a whole bushel of money, and the innkeeper buried the old grandmother as if she had been his own.

When Little Claus got home with all the money, he immediately sent his boy over to Big Claus to ask whether he could borrow his scale.

“What?!” said Big Claus. “Didn’t I kill him? This I have to see for myself,” and so he took the scale over to Little Claus in person.

“Now where did you get all that money from?” he asked, his eyes open wide at the sight of all the additional money.

“You killed my grandmother, not me,” said Little Claus. “Now I have sold her and got a bushel of money for her.”

“That was really a good deal,” Big Claus said and hurried home. He took an axe and immediately killed his old grandmother, laid her in his wagon, and drove into town to the drug store, and asked the druggist if he wanted to buy a dead body.

“Who is it, and where have you gotten it?” asked the druggist.

“It’s my grandmother,” said Big Claus. “I’ve killed her for a bushel of money!”

“God save us!” said the druggist. “You’re out of your mind! Don’t say something like that, or you’ll lose your head!”

Then the druggist told him sternly what a terrible thing he had done, and what a dreadful person he was, and that he should be punished. Big Claus became so frightened that he ran out and sprang into his wagon, whipped the horses, and hurried home, but the druggist and all the other people thought he was crazy, and therefore let him go wherever he wanted.

“You’re going to pay for this!” said Big Claus when he was out on the road. “Yes, you’re going to pay for this, Little Claus!” And when he got home he took the biggest sack he could find and went over to Little Claus and said, “You’ve fooled me again. First I killed my horses, then my old grandmother! It’s all your fault, but you’ll never fool me again.” Then he took Little Claus by the waist and put him into the sack, threw the sack on his back, and yelled, “Now I’m going to drown you!”

It was a long walk to the river, and Little Claus was not so easy to carry. The road went right by the church. The organ was playing, and people were singing so beautifully inside. Big Claus set the sack holding Little Claus right beside the church door. He thought that it might be a good idea to go in and hear a hymn before he went any further. After all, Little Claus would not be able to get out, and all the people were inside the church. So he went in.

“Oh no! Oh no!” sighed Little Claus inside the sack. He turned and twisted but it was impossible for him to loosen the rope. Just then an old, old shepherd with grey hair and a big walking stick came by. He was driving a herd of cattle in front of him, and they ran into the sack Little Claus was in and tipped it over.

“Oh poor me!” Little Claus sighed, “I’m so young, and I’m already going to heaven!”

“And poor me,” said the shepherd, “who’s so old and can’t get there yet.”

“Open the sack,” shouted Little Claus, “take my place, and you’ll soon be in heaven!”

“Yes, I would really like that,” said the shepherd and untied the sack for Little Claus, who jumped out at once.

“Will you take care of the animals?” asked the old man, and climbed into the sack. Little Claus tied it up and went on his way with the cows and oxen.

A little later Big Claus came out of the church, took the sack on his back again, and thought it had become lighter because the old shepherd wasn’t more than half as heavy as Little Claus. “How light he’s become! It must be because I listened to a hymn.” He went to the river, which was wide and deep, threw the sack with the old shepherd into the water, and shouted after him, “So there! You won’t fool me again!” because he thought it was Little Claus, of course.