And in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with a wooden club. And above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who called out, bring the rogue here to me. So I got away as well as I could.
After this the robbers never again dared enter the house.
But it suited the four musicians of bremen so well that they did not care to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who last told this story is still warm.
A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer in an egg-shell. Then the little louse fell in and burnt herself. At this the little flea began to scream loudly. Then said the little room-door, little flea, why are you screaming.
Because the louse has burnt herself.
Then the little door began to creak. At this a little broom in the corner said, why are you creaking, little door. Have I not reason to creak.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping.
So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart passed by and said, why are you sweeping, little broom. Have I not reason to sweep.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping, the little door is creaking.
So the little cart said, then I will run, and began to run like mad. Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, why are you running so, little cart. Have I not reason to run.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping, the little door is creaking, the little broom is sweeping.
The ash-heap said, then I will burn furiously, and began to burn in clear flames. A little tree stood near the ash-heap and said, ash-heap, why are you burning. Have I not reason to burn.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping, the little door is creaking, the little broom is sweeping, the little cart is running.
The little tree said, then I will shake myself, and began to shake herself so that all her leaves fell off. A girl who came up with her water-pitcher saw that, and said, little tree, why are you shaking yourself. Have I not reason to shake myself.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping, the little door is creaking, the little broom is sweeping, the little cart is running, the little ash-heap is burning.
At this the girl said, then I will break my little water-pitcher.
And she broke her little water-pitcher. Then said the little spring from which ran the water, girl, why are you breaking your water-pitcher. Have I not reason to break my water-pitcher.
The little louse has burnt herself, the little flea is weeping, the little door is creaking, the little broom is sweeping, the little cart is running, the little ash-heap is burning, the little tree is shaking itself.
Oh, ho, said the spring, then I will begin to flow, and began to flow violently. And in the water everything was drowned, the girl, the little tree, the little ash-heap, the little cart, the broom, the little door, the little flea, the little louse, all together.
One very fine day it came to pass that the good God wished to enjoy himself in the heavenly garden, and took all the apostles and saints with him, so that no one stayed in heaven but saint peter. The Lord had commanded him to let no one in during his absence, so peter stood by the door and kept watch.
Before long someone knocked. Peter asked who was there, and what he wanted. I am a poor, honest tailor who prays for admission, replied a smooth voice. Honest indeed, said peter, like the thief on the gallows. You have been light-fingered and have snipped folks, clothes away. You will not get into heaven. The Lord has forbidden me to let anyone in while he is out. Come, do be merciful, cried the tailor. Little scraps which fall off the table of their own accord are not stolen, and are not worth speaking about. Look, I am lame, and have blisters on my feet from walking here, I cannot possibly turn back again. Just let me in, and I will do all the dirty work. I will carry the children, and wash their clothes, and scrub and clean the benches on which they have been playing, and patch all their torn frocks. Saint peter let himself be moved by pity, and opened the door of heaven just wide enough for the lame tailor to slip his lean body in. He was forced to sit down in a corner behind the door, and told to stay quietly and peaceably there, in order that the Lord, when he returned, might not observe him and be angry. The tailor obeyed, but once when saint peter went outside the door, he got up, and full of curiosity, peeped into every corner of heaven, and inspected the arrangement of the whole place. At length he came to a spot where many beautiful and precious chairs were standing, and in the midst was a seat all of gold which was set with shining jewels. Likewise it was much higher than the other chairs, and a footstool of gold was before it. It was the seat, however, on which the Lord sat when he was at home, and from which he could see all that happened on earth. The tailor stood still, and looked at the seat for a long time, for it pleased him better than all else. At last he could master his curiosity no longer, and climbed up and seated himself in the chair. Then he saw everything which was happening on earth, and observed an ugly old woman who was standing washing by the side of a stream, secretly laying two veils on one side for herself. The sight of this made the tailor so angry that he laid hold of the golden footstool, and threw it down to earth through heaven, at the old thief. But since he could not bring the stool back again, he slipped quietly out of the chair, seated himself in his place behind the door, and behaved as if he had never stirred from the spot.
