The Brave Little Tailor

One summer morning, a little tailor sat at his table by the window, sewing away with all his might in the best of spirits. Then a peasant woman came down the street, calling out, “Good jam, cheap! Good jam, cheap!” The words rang sweetly in the tailor’s ears. He leaned his slight frame out of the window and called down, “Come up here, good woman. Here you’ll find a buyer for your goods.”

The woman climbed the three flights with her heavy basket and had to unpack every pot for him. He looked them over one by one, lifted each, put his nose to it, and finally said, “This jam seems good to me. Weigh me out four ounces, dear woman, and if it comes to a quarter pound, that’s no trouble at all.” The woman, who had hoped for a better sale, gave him what he asked, then went off grumbling and out of temper.

“Now God bless this jam to do me good,” cried the little tailor, “and give me strength and health.” He took the loaf from the cupboard, cut himself a slice clean across it, and spread the jam thick. “This won’t taste bitter,” he said, “but I’ll finish the jacket first, before I take a bite.” He set the bread down beside him and sewed on, and in his pleasure his stitches grew bigger and bigger.

Meanwhile the smell of the sweet jam rose to the wall, where flies sat in great numbers, and it drew them down in swarms. “Now then, who invited you?” said the little tailor, and shooed the uninvited guests away. But the flies understood no English and would not be turned off; they only came back in greater and greater companies. At last the tailor lost all patience. He reached for a scrap of cloth from the hole beneath his worktable, said, “Just you wait, I’ll settle you,” and struck at them without mercy. When he drew the cloth away and counted, there lay no fewer than seven flies before him, dead, their legs stretched stiff.

“So that’s the sort of fellow you are,” he said, and could not help admiring his own daring. “The whole town shall hear of this!” And in his hurry he cut himself a belt, stitched it up, and embroidered on it in bold letters: SEVEN AT ONE BLOW. “What, the town?” he went on. “The whole world shall hear of it!” And his heart wagged with joy like a lamb’s tail.

The tailor buckled the belt around his waist and resolved to go out into the world, for he judged his workshop far too small for a man of his courage. Before he left, he searched the house for something to take along, but found nothing except an old piece of cheese, which he pocketed. At the door he noticed a bird caught in a thicket, and that went into his pocket beside the cheese. Then he took to the road boldly, and being light and nimble, he felt no weariness at all.

The road led him up a mountain, and when he reached the highest point, there sat a mighty giant, looking about him quite at his ease. The little tailor went straight up to him without fear, spoke to him, and said, “Good day, friend. So you sit up here surveying the wide world? I’m on my way there myself, to try my luck. Care to come along?” The giant looked at the tailor with contempt and said, “You ragged little wretch! You miserable scrap of a man!”

“Is that so?” answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat to show the giant his belt. “Read that, and you’ll see what sort of man I am.” The giant read SEVEN AT ONE BLOW and, taking it to mean seven men the tailor had struck down, began to feel a measure of respect for the little fellow after all. Still, he wanted to test him first. He took up a stone and squeezed it in his fist until water dripped from it. “Do as much,” said the giant, “if you have the strength.”

“Is that all?” said the tailor. “That’s child’s play to us.” He reached into his pocket, drew out the soft cheese, and squeezed it until the whey ran out. “There,” he said. “A little better than yours, wasn’t it?” The giant did not know what to say and could hardly believe it of so small a man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high that the eye could barely follow it. “Now then, little mite, do the same.”

“Well thrown,” said the tailor, “but in the end your stone came back down to earth. I’ll throw you one that never comes back at all.” He reached into his pocket, took out the bird, and tossed it into the air. Delighted with its freedom, the bird rose, flew off, and did not return. “How does that throw please you, friend?” asked the tailor. “You can throw well enough,” said the giant, “but now let’s see whether you can carry your share of a load.”

He led the little tailor to a mighty oak that lay felled on the ground and said, “If you’re strong enough, help me carry this tree out of the forest.” “Gladly,” answered the little man. “You take the trunk on your shoulder, and I’ll lift the branches and twigs. After all, they’re the heaviest part.” The giant hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder, while the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the giant, unable to look behind him, had to carry the whole tree and the little tailor along with it. Back there he sat merry and content, whistling the tune “Three tailors rode out through the gate,” as if hauling the tree were the merest child’s play.

The giant, after dragging the heavy load part of the way, could go no farther and cried, “Listen, I’ll have to let the tree fall!” The tailor sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with both arms as though he had been carrying it all along, and said to the giant, “What, a great fellow like you, and you can’t even carry a tree?”

They went on together, and as they passed a cherry tree, the giant took hold of the crown, where the ripest fruit hung, bent it down, put it into the tailor’s hand, and told him to eat. But the little tailor was far too light to hold the tree down, and when the giant let go, it sprang upright again and flung the tailor high into the air with it. When he had come back down without harm, the giant said, “What’s this? Haven’t you the strength to hold a slender branch?”

“There’s no lack of strength,” answered the little tailor. “Do you think that would trouble a man who struck down seven at one blow? I jumped clean over the tree because there are huntsmen shooting down in the thicket. Jump after me, if you can.” The giant tried, but could not clear the tree, and got caught fast in the branches instead, so that in this too the tailor kept the upper hand.

“If you’re such a valiant fellow,” said the giant, “come with me to our cave and spend the night there.” The little tailor agreed and followed him. When they reached the cave, other giants sat there by the fire, each with a roasted sheep in hand, eating. The little tailor looked around and thought, “Now this is far roomier than my workshop.” The giant showed him a bed and told him to lie down and sleep. But the bed was much too large for the little tailor, so instead of lying in it, he crept into a corner.

At midnight, when the giant believed the little tailor lay fast asleep, he got up, took a great iron bar, and struck the bed clean through with a single blow, thinking he had finished off the grasshopper for good. At first light the giants went off into the forest, having quite forgotten the little tailor, when all at once he came walking toward them, merry and bold as ever. The giants were seized with terror, certain he would strike them all dead, and fled in great haste.

The little tailor went on his way, always following the point of his own nose. After walking a long while, he came to the courtyard of a royal palace, and feeling weary, he lay down in the grass and fell asleep. As he lay there, people came and looked him over from every side and read on his belt SEVEN AT ONE BLOW. “Ah,” they said, “what is such a great warrior doing here in the midst of peace? He must be a mighty lord.” They went and told the king, judging that if war ever broke out, here was a weighty and useful man who ought on no account to be let go.

The king liked this counsel and sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor, to offer him a place in his army as soon as he woke. The messenger stood by the sleeper and waited until he stretched his limbs and opened his eyes, then delivered the offer. “That’s exactly why I’ve come,” the tailor replied. “I’m ready to enter the king’s service.” So he was received with honor and given a lodging of his own.

But the king’s soldiers had taken against the little tailor and wished him a thousand miles away. “What’s to become of this?” they said among themselves. “If we quarrel with him and he lays about him, seven of us will fall at every blow. None of us can stand against that.” So they resolved together, went in a body to the king, and asked to be dismissed. “We are not prepared,” they said, “to serve alongside a man who kills seven at one blow.”

The king was troubled that for the sake of one man he should lose all his faithful soldiers, and wished he had never set eyes on the tailor. Gladly would he have been rid of him, but he did not dare dismiss him outright, fearing the tailor might strike him and all his people dead and seat himself upon the throne. He turned the matter over for a long time and at last found a plan. He sent word to the little tailor that, since he was so great a warrior, he had one request to make of him. In a forest of his kingdom lived two giants who did great harm with their robbing, murdering, plundering, and burning, and no one could approach them without risking his life. If the tailor could defeat and kill these two giants, the king would give him his only daughter in marriage, and half his kingdom as dowry, and a hundred horsemen besides to ride with him and lend their aid.

“Now that would be quite a thing for a man like me,” thought the little tailor. “A beautiful princess and half a kingdom aren’t offered to a man every day.”

“Oh, yes,” he answered, “I’ll soon tame the giants, and I won’t need the hundred horsemen for it. A man who can hit seven with one blow has no reason to fear two.”

The little tailor set out, and the hundred horsemen followed him. When he reached the edge of the forest, he said to his escort, “Just wait here. I’ll finish off the giants myself.” Then he bounded into the forest, looking about him right and left. Before long he spotted the two giants. They lay asleep beneath a tree, snoring so hard that the branches swayed up and down. The little tailor, never idle, filled both his pockets with stones and climbed up into the tree with them. Halfway up he slid along a branch until he sat directly above the sleepers, and there he began letting stones fall, one after another, onto the chest of one giant.

For a long while the giant felt nothing, but at last he woke, shoved his companion, and said, “Why are you hitting me?”

“You’re dreaming,” said the other. “I’m not hitting you.”

They settled down to sleep again, and the tailor threw a stone down at the second giant.

“What’s the meaning of this?” cried the other. “Why are you pelting me?”

“I’m not pelting you,” growled the first.

They argued over it a while, but being weary, they let the matter rest and closed their eyes once more.

The little tailor began his game again. He picked out the biggest stone and threw it with all his strength onto the first giant’s chest. “That’s too much!” he cried, springing up like a madman, and he shoved his companion against the tree so hard it shook. The other paid him back in kind, and the two flew into such a rage that they tore up trees and beat each other with them, until at last both fell down dead on the ground at the same moment.

Then the little tailor climbed down. “It’s a good thing,” he said, “that they didn’t tear up the tree I was sitting in, or I’d have had to jump to another one like a squirrel. But then, we tailors are nimble.” He drew his sword and gave each giant a couple of thrusts in the chest for good measure, then went out to the horsemen and said, “The work is done. I’ve finished off both of them. But it was hard going. In their distress they tore up trees and fought me with them, though none of it does any good against a man like me, who kills seven at one blow.”

“But are you not wounded?” asked the horsemen. “Never you mind about that,” answered the tailor. “They haven’t bent a single hair of mine.” The horsemen would not believe him and rode into the forest to see for themselves, and there they found the giants lying in their own blood, with uprooted trees strewn all around.

The little tailor now demanded from the king the reward he had promised. But the king regretted his promise and cast about once more for a way to be rid of his hero. “Before you receive my daughter and half my kingdom,” he said, “you must perform one more heroic deed. A unicorn roams the forest doing great harm. You must catch it first.”

“I fear one unicorn even less than two giants. Seven at one blow, that’s my kind of business.” He took a rope and an axe and went out into the forest, once again telling those sent along with him to wait outside. He did not have to search long. The unicorn soon came toward him and charged straight at the tailor, as though it meant to run him through on the spot. “Gently, gently,” said he. “It won’t happen as fast as that.” He stood still and waited until the beast was quite close, then sprang nimbly behind a tree.

The unicorn charged the tree with all its force and drove its horn so deep into the trunk that it had not the strength to pull it free again, and so it was caught. “Now I have my bird,” said the tailor. He came out from behind the tree, first slipped the rope around the unicorn’s neck, then chopped the horn free of the trunk with his axe, and once all was in order, he led the beast away and brought it to the king.

The king still would not give him the promised reward and made a third demand. Before the wedding, the tailor was to catch him a wild boar that was doing great damage in the forest, and the huntsmen would lend their help. “Gladly,” said the tailor. “That’s child’s play.” He did not take the huntsmen into the forest with him, and they were glad enough of that, for the boar had met them so roughly on other occasions that they had no wish to lie in wait for it again.

When the boar caught sight of the tailor, it charged him with foaming mouth and gnashing tusks, meaning to throw him to the ground. But the quick-footed hero darted into a chapel that stood nearby, straight up to the window, and out again in a single bound. The boar ran in after him, but the tailor slipped around outside and shut the door behind it, and so the raging beast, far too heavy and clumsy to leap out through the window, was trapped. The little tailor called the huntsmen over so they could see the prisoner with their own eyes.

The hero then went to the king, who now, whether he liked it or not, was bound to keep his word, and gave him his daughter and half his kingdom. Had the king known that no warlike hero but a little tailor stood before him, it would have grieved him even more than it did. The wedding was held with great splendor and little joy, and out of a tailor a king was made.

Some time later, the young queen heard her husband talking in his sleep one night. “Boy, sew me the doublet and patch these breeches, or I’ll rap the yardstick across your ears!” And so she learned in what sort of household the young lord had truly been raised. The next morning she poured out her grief to her father and begged him to help her be rid of a husband who was nothing more than a tailor.

The king comforted her and said, “Leave your bedroom door open tonight. My servants will wait outside, and once he has fallen asleep, they’ll go in, bind him, and carry him aboard a ship that will take him out into the wide world.” The young queen was satisfied with this. But the king’s armor-bearer, who had overheard the whole plan, was fond of the young lord and told him everything.

“I’ll put a stop to that business,” said the little tailor. That night he went to bed with his wife at the usual hour, and once she believed him asleep, she rose, opened the door, and lay down again. The little tailor, who had only been pretending to sleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, “Boy, sew me the doublet and patch these breeches, or I’ll rap the yardstick across your ears! I struck down seven at one blow. I killed two giants. I caught a unicorn and trapped a wild boar. Am I now to fear those standing outside my door?”

When the men outside heard the tailor speak in this way, they were seized with such terror that they ran as if the wild hunt itself were at their heels, and not one of them dared try anything against him again. And so the little tailor was a king, and remained one, to the end of his days.