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Grimms' Fairy Tales
The
Wedding of Mrs. Fox
F I R S T S T O R Y
There was once on a time an old fox with nine tails, who
believed that his wife was not faithful to him, and wished
to try her. He stretched himself out under the bench, did
not move a limb, and behaved as if he were stone dead. Mrs.
Fox went up to her room, shut herself in, and her maid,
Miss Cat, sat by the fire, and did the cooking. When it
became known that the old fox was dead, wooers presented
themselves. The maid heard some one standing at the house-door,
knocking. She went and opened it, and it was a young fox,
who said,
"What may you be about, Miss Cat.?
Do you sleep or do you wake?"
She answered,
"I am not sleeping, I am waking,
Wouldst thou know what I am making?
I am boiling warm beer with butter so nice,
Will the gentleman enter and drink some likewise?"
"No, thank you, miss," said the fox, "what
is Mrs. Fox doing?" The maid replied,
"She sits all alone,
And makes her moan,
Weeping her little eyes quite red,
Because old Mr. Fox is dead."
"Do just tell her, miss, that a young fox is here,
who would like to woo her." "Certainly, young
sir."
The cat goes up the stairs trip, trap,
The door she knocks at tap, tap, tap,
"Mistress Fox, are you inside?"
"Oh yes, my little cat," she cried.
"A wooer he stands at the door out there."
"Tell me what he is like, my dear?"
"But has he nine as beautiful tails as the late Mr.
Fox?" "Oh, no," answered the cat, "he
has only one."
"Then I will not have him." Miss Cat went downstairs
and sent the wooer away. Soon afterwards there was another
knock, and another fox was at the door who wished to woo
Mrs. Fox. He had two tails, but he did not fare better than
the first. After this still more came, each with one tail
more than the other, but they were all turned away, until
at last one came who had nine tails, like old Mr. Fox. When
the widow heard that, she said joyfully to the cat,
"Now open the gates and doors all wide,
And carry old Mr. Fox outside."
But just as the wedding was going to be solemnized, old
Mr. Fox stirred under the bench, and cudgelled all the rabble,
and drove them and Mrs. Fox out of the house.
S E C O N D S T O R Y
When old Mr. Fox was dead, the wolf came as a wooer, and
knocked at the door, and the cat who was servant to Mrs.
Fox, opened it for him. The wolf greeted her, and said,
"Good day, Mrs. Cat of Kehrewit,
"How comes it that alone you sit?
What are you making good?"
The cat replied,
"In milk I'm breaking bread so sweet,
Will the gentleman please come in and eat?"
"No, thank you, Mrs. Cat," answered the wolf.
"Is Mrs. Fox not at home?"
The cat said,
"She sits upstairs in her room,
Bewailing her sorrowful doom,
Bewailing her trouble so sore,
For old Mr. Fox is no more."
The wolf answered,
"If she's in want of a husband now,
Then will it please her to step below?"
The cat runs quickly up the stair,
And lets her tail fly here and there,
Until she comes to the parlour door.
With her five gold rings at the door she knocks,
"Are you within, good Mistress Fox?
If you're in want of a husband now,
Then will it please you to step below?
Mrs. Fox asked, "Has the gentleman red stockings on'
and has he a pointed mouth?" "No," answered
the cat. "Then he won't do for me."
When the wolf was gone, came a dog, a stag, a hare, a bear,
a lion, and all the beasts of the forest, one after the
other. But one of the good points which old Mr. Fox had
possessed, was always lacking, and the cat had continually
to send the wooers away. At length came a young fox. Then
Mrs. Fox said, "Has the gentleman red stockings on,
and has he a little pointed mouth?" "Yes,"
said the cat, "he has." "Then let him come
upstairs," said Mrs. Fox, and ordered the servant to
prepare the wedding-feast.
"Sweep me the room as clean as you can,
Up with the window, fling out my old man!
For many a fine fat mouse he brought,
Yet of his wife he never thought,
But ate up every one he caught."
Then the wedding was solemnized with young Mr. Fox, and
there was much rejoicing and dancing; and if they have not
left off, they are dancing still.
From Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Household Tales, trans. Margaret
Hunt (London: George Bell, 1884), 1:158-160. |
