Fairytales of Famous Authors Compared to Disney Cartoons with proper respect etc

Story 91: Hans In Luck Brothers Grimm 1812

(Luck only exists if God gifts it to you, it doesn't come out of nowhere.––Lumna10 out, Skylights.)

Hans In Luck

After serving his master for seven years, Hans said to him:
"Master, my time is up. I want to go back home to my mother, so give me my wages." His master replied: "You have served me honestly and faithfully, and I shall reward you likewise." Whereupon he gave Hans a lump of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled out his handkerchief, wrapped the gold in it, hoisted it up on his shoul-der, and started for home. As he was plodding down the road, putting one foot in front of the other, he caught sight of a horseman riding along, as fresh and carefree as you please. "Ah," cried Hans,
"what a lovely thing it is to ride! You're sitting as comfortably as in a chair, you don't stub your toes on any stones, you save shoe leather, and you move along without the slightest effort." The horseman, who had heard him, stopped and called out: "Then why are you Walking, Hans'" I have to," he said. "I've got this big lump to take home. True enough, it's gold, but it won't let me hold my head straight, and ic weighs my shoulder down." "Ill tell you what," said he horseman. "Let's trade, I'll give you my horse, and you'll give me your lump of gold." "Gladly," said Hans, "but I'm warning you, it's Very heavy, you're letting yourself in for someching." The rider dismounted, took the gold, helped Hans into the saddle, put the reins firmly into his hands and said: "If you want to go really fast, you've got to click your tongue and shout, 'Gee up.'" (That is exactly how my riding instructor here in North Carolina talked to our horses by clicking her tongue but she never had to say "Gee up" Gee up or Giddy up is only for cowboys–Lumna10)
Hans was as happy as a lark to be sitting on the back of a horse, riding along so light and easy. After a while he thought it would be nice to go faster, so he clicked his tongue and shouted, "Gee up." The horse went into a brisk trot. Before Hans knew it, he'd been thrown and was lying in a ditch between the road and the fields. The horse would have run away if he hadn't been stopped by a peasant who happened to be coming along with a cow. Hans collected his limbs and scrambled to his feet. But he was out of sorts, and he said to the peasant: "Riding is no joke, especially when you get hold of a plug like this, that bucks and throws you. Why, I could have broken my neck. You'll never catch me riding again. Now your cow is a different story. You can amble along with her as slowly as you please, and in addition you're sure of having milk, butter, and cheese every day. What wouldn't I give for a cow like that!" "Well," said the peasant, "if it would make you happy, I'd be willing to trade my cow for your horse." Hans accepted with gladness in his heart, and the peasant mounted as fast as he could and galloped away.
Hans drove his cow quietly along, thinking about the fine bargain he had struck, "As long as I have a chunk of bread, and I can count on that, I'll always have buter and cheese to go with it. And if I'm thirsty, I'll just milk my cow. What more could I ask for?" When he came to a tavern, he stopped, joyfully ate all the food he had taken with him-his noonday meal and his supper-and invested his last few hellers in half a glass of beer. Then he went on with his cow, still in the direction of his mother's village. The heat became more and more crushing as the sun rose in the sky, and Hans was crossing a heath that looked as if it would take another hour to cross. He was so hot the thirst made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. "That's easily remedied," he thought. "TIl milk my cow and drink to my heart's content" He hitched the cow to a stump and, seeing as he had no pail, he put his leather cap underneath. And he tried and he tried, but he couldn't get one drop of milk out of her. And besides, he was so clumsy about it that the cow finally lost patience and gave him such a kick in the head that he fell to the ground and for quite some time couldn't remember where he was. Luckily a butcher came along just hen, carrying a young pig on a wheelbarrow. "Hey, what's going on here?" he cried, and helped our good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened. The butcher handed him his flask, saying: "Here, take a drink, it will make you feel better. That cow won't give any milk, she's too old. At the most she could pull a plow, or you could slaughter her." "Oh dear!" said Hans, running his fingers through his hair. "That is bad news. Of course it's a great thing to have an animal to butcher. All that meat! But I don't care much for cow meat, it's too dry. A young pig would be something else again, not to mention the sausages." "Listen to me, Hans," said the butcher. "As a personal favor, I'II trade you, the pig for the cow." "God bless you for your kindness," said Hans and gave the cow to the butcher, who untied the pig, removed him from the wheelbarrow, and pressed the lead rope into Hans's hand.
Hans went on, thinking how lucky he was; whenever there was any annoyance, it got straightened out before he knew it. After a while he found himself walking beside a young fellow with a fine white goose under his arm. They bade each other good day, and Hans began telling him about his luck and the trades he had made, always to his advantage. The young fellow told Hans he was taking the goose to a christening feast. "Feel the weight," he said, picking it up by the wings. "They've been fattening this bird for the last eight weeks. Anyone who takes a bite out of her will have to wipe the fat off both cheeks." "Yes, indeed," said Hans, hefting the goose in one hand. "It's a good weight, but my pig here is no slouch either." Meanwhile the young fellow was darting suspicious glances in all di-rections, and shaking his head from time to time. "Hmm," he said finally. "I don't know about that pig of yours. The mayor of the village I passed through a little while ago just had a pig stolen out of his barn. I'm afraid, very much afraid, it's the one you've got there. They've sent out some men, and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes they catch you with that pig. At the very least, they'd throw you in the jug." Our good Hans was scared out of his wits. "Lordy!" he said. "Couldn't you help me out of this fix, you know your way arohnd these parts better than I do. Take my pig and give me your goose." "It'll be risky for me too," said the young fellow. "But I wouldn't want you to get into trouble through any fault of mine." So he cook the rope and hurried off into a bypath with the pig. Relieved of his worries, our good Hans resumed his homeward journey with the goose under his arm. "When you come right down to it," he said to himself, "I've gained by the trade: first, the beautiful roast goose I'll have, second, all the fat that will drip into the pan why, I'll be able to butter my bread with goose fat for the next three months and third, the lovely white feathers. No one will have to rock me to sleep once I've stuffed them into my pillow. How happy my mother will be!"

As he was passing through the last village, a scissors grinder was standing there with his grindstone. His wheel whirred, and he sang:
"Grinding scissors is my trade, I grind whatever has a blade, And as I grind I keep an eye On everyone who passes by."
Hans stopped and watched, and after a while he went over to him.
Lucky man!" he said. "Grinding away so merrily." "Oh yes," said the scissors grinder. "Learn a trade and your living's made. A good scissors grinder is a man who can't put his hand in his pocket without finding money. But where did you buy that fine goose?" "I didn't buy it. I traded my pig for it." "And the pig?" "I traded a cow for it." "And the cow?" "I got it in exchange for a horse." "And the horse?" "I gave a lump of gold as big as my head for it." "And the gold?" "Oh, that was my wage for seven years' service." "You made a good thing of it every time," said the scissors grinder. "But your fortune will really be made when you arrange matters so as to hear the money jingling in your pocket every time you stand up." "How do I go about that?" Hans asked. "Become a scissors grinder like me. All you need is a grindstone, the rest will take care of itself. I've got one right here. It's not in very good condition, but I'll let it go cheap; just give me your goose. What do you say?" "How can you ask?" said Hans. "Why, I'll be the happiest man on earth. If I find money every time I pu my hand in my pocket, I won't have a thing to worry about." With that he handed him the goose and took the
"And now," said the scissors grinder, picking up a com-
grindstone,
non ordinary stone that was lying beside him on the ground, "TI hrow in this useful stone. It's good for hammering on, you'll be able to straighten your old nails. Take good care of it."
Hans took the stones and went his way with a happy heart. His eyes sparkled for joy. "I must have been born under a lucky star," he said. "Everything I wish for comes to me, it's just as if I were a Sunday's child." He had been on his feet since daybreak and was beginning to feel tired. He was also plagued by hunger, for in his joy at trading his horse for a cow he had eaten up all his provisions. In the end he was dragging himself painfully along, and had to stop every few minutes. Worst of all, the weight of the stones was killing him, and he couldn't help thinking how lovely it would be if he didn't have to carry them just then. Creeping along at a snail's pace, he finally came to a well, and there he decided to rest and have a nice refreshing drink of cold water. For fear of damaging the stones in sitting down, he first laid them carefully on the rim of the well. But when he leaned over to drink, he made a false move and grazed the stones. Both of them tumbled into the well. When he saw them sink-ing, Hans jumped for joy, knelt down and thanked God with tears in his eyes for showing him this great mercy after so many others, for relieving him of those heavy stones, his last burdens, and doing it in such a kindly way that he had no need to reproach himself. "No one under the sun is as lucky as I am!" he cried. And light of heart, without a care in the world, he ran home to his mother.

The end.
I will finish up this book with more stories till I get to Story 100. The Brothers' Grimm books that do not say Americanized maybe copied as the copy of collections I am using was copied itself from another source. ––Lumna10

I am off to do dog duty at Project2Heal with my Mom which is sitting with newborn puppies––Luman10 out.