There was
once a woman who
had three daughters, of whom the eldest was named "One Eye," because
she
had only one eye in the middle of her forehead. The second had two
eyes,
like other people, and she was called "Two Eyes." The youngest had
three
eyes, two like her second sister, and one in the middle of her
forehead,
like the eldest, and she bore the name of "Three Eyes."
Now because
little Two Eyes
looked just like other people, her mother and sisters could not endure
her. They said to her, "You are not better than common folks, with your
two eyes; you don't belong to us."
So they
pushed her about,
and threw all their old clothes to her for her to wear, and gave her
only
the pieces that were left to eat, and did everything that they could to
make her miserable. It so happened that little Two Eyes was sent into
the
fields to take care of the goats, and she was often very hungry,
although
her sisters had as much as they liked to eat. So one day she seated
herself
on a mound in the field, and began to weep and cry so bitterly that two
little rivulets flowed from her eyes. Once, in the midst of her sorrow
she looked up, and saw a woman standing near her who said, "What are
you
weeping for, little Two Eyes?"
"I cannot
help weeping,"
she replied; "for because I have two eyes, like other people, my mother
and sisters cannot bear me; they push me about from one corner to
another
and make we wear their old clothes, and give me nothing to eat but what
is left, so that I am always hungry. To-day they gave me so little that
I am nearly starved."
"Dry up
your tears, little
Two Eyes," said the wise woman; "I will tell you something to do which
will prevent you from ever being hungry again. You have only to say to
your own goat:
"'Little goat,
if you're
able,
Pray deck
out my table,'
"and
immediately there will
be a pretty little table before you full of all sorts of good things
for
you to eat, as much as you like. And when you have had enough, and you
do not want the table any more, you need only say:
"'Little goat,
when you're
able,
Remove my
nice table,'
"and it
will vanish from
your eyes."
Then the
wise woman went
away. "Now," thought little Two Eyes, "I will try if what she says is
true,
for I am very hungry," so she said:
"Little goat,
if you're
able,
Pray deck
out my table."
The words
were scarcely spoken,
when a beautiful little table stood really before her; it had a white
cloth
and plates, and knives and forks, and silver spoons, and such a
delicious
dinner, smoking hot as if it had just come from the kitchen. Then
little
Two Eyes sat down and said the shortest grace she knew—"Pray God be our
guest for all time. Amen"—before she allowed herself to taste anything.
But oh, how she did enjoy her dinner! and when she had finished, she
said,
as the wise woman had taught her:
"Little goat,
when you're
able,
Remove my
nice table."
In a
moment, the table and
everything upon it had disappeared. "That is a pleasant way to keep
house,"
said little Two Eyes, and felt quite contented and happy. In the
evening,
when she went home with the goat, she found an earthenware dish with
some
scraps which her sisters had left for her, but she did not touch them.
The next morning she went away with the goat, leaving them behind where
they had been placed for her. The first and second times that she did
so,
the sisters did not notice it; but when they found it happened every
day,
they said one to the other, "There is something strange about little
Two
Eyes, she leaves her supper every day, and all that has been put for
her
has been wasted; she must get food somewhere else."
So they
determined to find
out the truth, and they arranged that when Two Eyes took her goat to
the
field, One Eye should go with her to take particular notice of what she
did, and discover if anything was brought for her to eat and drink.
So when Two
Eyes started
with her goat, One Eye said to her, "I am going with you to-day to see
if the goat gets her food properly while you are watching the rest."
But Two
Eyes knew what she
had in her mind. So she drove the goat into the long grass, and said,
"Come,
One Eye, let us sit down here and rest, and I will sing to you."
One Eye
seated herself, and,
not being accustomed to walk so far, or to be out in the heat of the
sun,
she began to feel tired, and as little Two Eyes kept on singing, she
closed
her one eye and fell fast asleep.
When Two
Eyes saw this, she
knew that One Eye could not betray her, so she said:
"Little goat,
if you are
able,
Come and
deck my pretty table."
She seated
herself when it
appeared, and ate and drank very quickly, and when she had finished she
said:
"Little goat,
when you are
able,
Come and
clear away my table."
It vanished
in the twinkling
of an eye; and then Two Eyes woke up One Eye, and said, "Little One
Eye,
you are a clever one to watch goats; for, while you are asleep, they
might
be running all over the world. Come, let us go home!"
So they
went to the house,
and little Two Eyes again left the scraps on the dish untouched, and
One
Eye could not tell her mother whether little Two Eyes had eaten
anything
in the field; for she said to excuse herself, "I was asleep."
The next
day the mother said
to Three Eyes, "You must go to the field this time, and find out
whether
there is anyone who brings food to little Two Eyes; for she must eat
and
drink secretly."
So when
little Two Eyes started
with her goat, Three Eyes followed, and said, "I am going with you
to-day,
to see if the goats are properly fed and watched."
But Two
Eyes knew her thoughts;
so she led the goat through the long grass to tire Three Eyes, and at
last
she said, "Let us sit down here and rest, and I will sing to you, Three
Eyes."
She was
glad to sit down,
for the walk and the heat of the sun had really tired her; and, as her
sister continued her song, she was obliged to close two of her eyes,
and
they slept, but not the third. In fact, Three Eyes was wide awake with
one eye, and heard and saw all that Two Eyes did; for poor little Two
Eyes,
thinking she was asleep, said her speech to the goat, and the table
came
with all the good things on it, and was carried away when Two Eyes had
eaten enough; and the cunning Three Eyes saw it all with her one eye.
But
she pretended to be asleep when her sister came to wake her and told
her
she was going home.
That
evening, when little
Two Eyes again left the supper they placed aside for her, Three Eyes
said
to her mother, "I know where the proud thing gets her good eating and
drinking;"
and then she described all she had seen in the field. "I saw it all
with
one eye," she said; "for she had made my other two eyes close with her
fine singing, but luckily the one in my forehead remained open."
Then the
envious mother cried
out to poor little Two Eyes, "You wish to have better food than we, do
you? You shall lose your wish!" She took up a butcher's knife, went
out,
and stuck the good little goat in the heart, and it fell dead.
When little
Two Eyes saw
this, she went out into the field, seated herself on a mound, and wept
most bitter tears.
Presently
the wise woman
stood again before her, and said, "Little Two Eyes, why do you weep?"
"Ah!" she
replied, "I must
weep. The goat, who every day spread my table so beautifully, has been
killed by my mother, and I shall have again to suffer from hunger and
sorrow."
"Little Two
Eyes," said the
wise woman, "I will give you some good advice. Go home, and ask your
sister
to give you the inside of the slaughtered goat, and then go and bury it
in the ground in front of the house-door."
On saying
this the wise woman
vanished.
Little Two
Eyes went home
quickly, and said to her sister, "Dear sister, give me some part of my
poor goat. I don't want anything valuable; only give me the inside."
Her sister
laughed, and said,
"Of course you can have that, if you don't want anything else."
So little
Two Eyes took the
inside; and in the evening, when all was quiet, buried it in the ground
outside the house-door, as the wise woman had told her to do.
The next
morning, when they
all rose and looked out of the window, there stood a most wonderful
tree,
with leaves of silver and apples of gold hanging between them. Nothing
in the wide world could be more beautiful or more costly. They none of
them knew how the tree could come there in one night, excepting little
Two Eyes. She supposed it had grown up from the inside of the goat; for
it stood over where she had buried it in the earth.
Then said
the mother to little
One Eye, "Climb up, my child, and break off some of the fruit from the
tree."
One Eye
climbed up, but when
she tried to catch a branch and pluck one of the apples, it escaped
from
her hand, and so it happened every time she made the attempt, and, do
what
she would, she could not reach one.
"Three
Eyes," said the mother,
"climb up, and try what you can do; perhaps you will be able to see
better
with your three eyes than One Eye can."
One Eye
slid down from the
tree, and Three Eyes climbed up. But Three Eyes was not more skilful;
with
all her efforts she could not draw the branches, nor the fruit, near
enough
to pluck even a leaf, for they sprang back as she put out her hand.
At last the
mother was impatient,
and climbed up herself, but with no more success, for, as she appeared
to grasp a branch, or fruit, her hand closed upon thin air.
"May I
try?" said little
Two Eyes; "perhaps I may succeed."
"You,
indeed!" cried her
sisters; "you, with your two eyes, what can you do?"
But Two
Eyes climbed up,
and the golden apples did not fly back from her when she touched them,
but almost laid themselves on her hand, and she plucked them one after
another, till she carried down her own little apron full.
The mother
took them from
her, and gave them to her sisters, as she said little Two Eyes did not
handle them properly; but this was only from jealousy, because little
Two
Eyes was the only one who could reach the fruit, and she went into the
house feeling more spiteful to her than ever.
It happened
that while all
three sisters were standing under the tree together a young knight rode
by. "Run away, quick, and hide yourself, little Two Eyes; hide yourself
somewhere, for we shall be quite ashamed for you to be seen." Then they
pushed the poor girl, in great haste, under an empty cask, which stood
near the tree, and several of the golden apples that she had plucked
along
with her.
As the
knight came nearer
they saw he was a handsome man; and presently he halted, and looked
with
wonder and pleasure at the beautiful tree with its silver leaves and
golden
fruit.
At last he
spoke to the sisters,
and asked: "To whom does this beautiful tree belong? If a man possessed
only one branch he might obtain all he wished for in the world."
"This tree
belongs to us,"
said the two sisters, "and we will break off a branch for you if you
like."
They gave themselves a great deal of trouble in trying to do as they
offered;
but all to no purpose, for the branches and the fruit evaded their
efforts,
and sprung back at every touch.
"This is
wonderful," exclaimed
the knight, "that the tree should belong to you, and yet you are not
able
to gather even a branch."
They
persisted, however,
in declaring that the tree was their own property. At this moment
little
Two Eyes, who was angry because her sisters had not told the truth,
caused
two of the golden apples to slip out from under the cask, and they
rolled
on till they reached the feet of the knight's horse. When he saw them,
he asked in astonishment where they came from.
The two
ugly maidens replied
that they had another sister, but they dared not let him see her, for
she
had only two eyes, like common people, and was named little Two Eyes.
But the
knight felt very
anxious to see her, and called out, "Little Two Eyes, come here." Then
came Two Eyes, quite comforted, from the empty cask, and the knight was
astonished to find her so beautiful.
Then he
said, "Little Two
Eyes, can you break off a branch of the tree for me?"
"Oh yes,"
she replied, "I
can, very easily, for the tree belongs to me." And she climbed up, and,
without any trouble, broke off a branch with its silver leaves and
golden
fruit and gave it to the knight.
He looked
down at her as
she stood by his horse, and said: "Little Two Eyes, what shall I give
you
for this?"
"Ah!" she
answered, "I suffer
from hunger and thirst, and sorrow, and trouble, from early morning
till
late at night; if you would only take me with you, and release me, I
should
be so happy."
Then the
knight lifted the
little maiden on his horse, and rode home with her to his father's
castle.
There she was given beautiful clothes to wear, and as much to eat and
drink
as she wished, and as she grew up the young knight loved her so dearly
that they were married with great rejoicings.
Now, when
the two sisters
saw little Two Eyes carried away by the handsome young knight, they
were
overjoyed at their good fortune. "The wonderful tree belongs to us
now,"
they said; "even if we cannot break off a branch, yet everybody who
passes
will stop to admire it, and make acquaintance with us, and, who knows?
we may get husbands after all."
But when
they rose the next
morning, lo! the tree had vanished, and with it all their hopes. And on
this very morning, when little Two Eyes looked out of her chamber
window
of the castle, she saw, to her great joy, that the tree had followed
her.
Little Two
Eyes lived for
a long time in great happiness; but she heard nothing of her sisters,
till
one day two poor women came to the castle, to beg for alms. Little Two
Eyes saw them, and, looking earnestly in their faces, she recognised
her
two sisters, who had become so poor that they were obliged to beg their
bread from door to door.
But the
good sister received
them most kindly, and promised to take care of them and give them all
they
wanted. And then they did indeed repent and feel sorry for having
treated
her so badly in their youthful days.
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