Once upon a time a woodcutter lived happily with his wife in a pretty little log cabin in the middle of a thick forest. Each morning he set off singing to work, and when he came home in the evening, a plate of hot steaming soup was always waiting for him. One day he had a strange surprise. He came upon a big fir tree with strange open holes on the trunk. It looked somehow different from the other trees, and as he was about to chop it down, the alarmed face of an elf popped out of a hole. ‘What’s all this banging?’ asked the elf. ‘You’re not thinking of cutting down the tree, are you? It’s my home. I live here!’ The woodcutter dropped his axe in astonishment. ‘Well, I…’ he stammered. ‘With all the other trees there are in this forest, you have to pick this one. Lucky I was in, or I would have found myself homeless.’ Taken aback at these words, the woodcutter quickly recovered, for after all the elf was quite tiny, while he himself was a big hefty chap, and he boldly replied, ‘I’ll cut down any tree I like, so…’ ‘All right! All right!’ broke in the elf. ‘Shall we put it in this way: if you don’t cut down this tree, I grant you three wishes. Agreed?’ The woodcutter scratched his head. ‘Three wishes, you say? Yes, I agree.’ And he began to hack at another tree. As he worked and sweated at his task, the woodcutter kept thinking about the magic wishes. ‘I’ll see what my wife thinks…’ The woodcutter’s wife was busily cleaning a pot outside the house when her husband arrived. Grabbing her round the waist, he twirled her in delight. ‘Hooray! Hooray! Our luck is in!’ The woman could not understand why her husband was so pleased with himself and she struggled herself free. Later, however, over a glass of fine wine at the table, the woodcutter told his wife of his meeting with the elf, and she too began to picture the wonderful things that the elf’s three wishes might give them. The woodcutter’s wife took a first sip of wine from her husband’s glass. ‘Nice’, she said, smacking her lips. ‘I wish I had a string of sausages to go with it, though…’ Instantly she bit her tongue, but too late. Out of the air appeared the sausages, while the woodcutter stuttered with rage. ‘… what have you done! Sausages… What a stupid waste of a wish! You foolish woman. I wish they would stick up your nose!’ No sooner said than done. For the sausages leapt up and stuck fast to the end of the woman’s nose. This time, the woodcutter’s wife flew into a rage. ‘You idiot, what have you done? With all the things we could have wished for…’ The mortified woodcutter, who had just repeated his wife’s own mistake, exclaimed: ‘I’d chop…’ Luckily he stopped himself in time, realizing with horror that he’d been on the point of having his tongue chopped off. As his wife complained and blamed him, the poor man burst out laughing, ‘If only you knew how funny you look with those sausages on the end of your nose!’ Now that really upset the woodcutter’s wife. She hadn’t thought of her looks. She tried to tug away the sausages but they would not budge. She pulled again and again, but in vain. The sausages were firmly attached to her nose. Terrified, she exclaimed, ‘They’ll be there for the rest of my life!’ Feeling sorry for his wife and wondering how he could ever put up with[1] a woman with such an awkward nose, the woodcutter said, ‘I’ll try.’ Grasping the string of sausages, he tugged with all his might. But he simply pulled his wife over on top of him. The pair sat on the floor, gazing sadly at each other. ‘What shall we do now?’ they said, each thinking the same thought. ‘There’s only one thing we can do…’ ventured the woodcutter’s wife timidly. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so…’ her husband sighed, remembering their dreams of riches, and he bravely wished the third and last wish, ‘I wish the sausages would leave my wife’s nose.’ And they did. Instantly, husband and wife hugged each other tearfully, saying, ‘Maybe we’ll be poor, but we’ll be happy again!’ That evening, the only reminder of the woodcutter’s meeting with the elf was the string of sausages. So the couple fried them, gloomily thinking of what that meal had cost them.
Goldilocks[2] and the three bears
Once upon a time[3] there were three bears, who lived together in a house of their own in a wood. One of them was a little, small wee bear; one was a middle-sized bear, and the other was a great, huge bear. They had each a pot for their porridge, a little pot for the little, small wee bear and a middle-sized pot for the middle bear and a great pot for the great, huge bear. They each had a chair to sit in; a little chair for the little, small wee bear and a middle-sized chair for the middle bear and a great chair for the great, huge bear. And they had each a bed to sleep in; a little bed for the little, small wee bear and a middle-sized bed for the middle bear and a great bed for the great, huge bear.
One day, after they had made porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their porridge pots, they walked out into the wood while the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by beginning too soon to eat it. While they were walking, a little girl came into the house. This little girl had golden curls that tumbled down her back to her waist, and everyone called her by Goldilocks. Goldilocks had been walking through the woods on the way to visit her grandmother, but she had taken a shortcut and lost her way. After wandering around the woods for a very long time, and starting to despair of ever seeing her grandmamma or her parents again, she came across a little house. She was very relieved, because she was certain that whoever lived in the house would help her. You see, she did not know that the house belonged to the three bears.
Goldilocks went up to the house and knocked on the door, but nobody answered. After a while, she looked through the window and saw the porridge on the table that the bears had made for their breakfast. She said to herself: ‘Oh how I wish I could eat some of that porridge! I’m so very hungry.’
Now perhaps Goldilocks should have waited until the bears came home, and then, perhaps they would have asked her to breakfast – for they were good bears, although a little rough or so, as the manner of a bear is – but very good natured and hospitable. Goldilocks did something rather naughty instead. She tried the latch on the door of the house and found that it was open – because you see the bears didn’t expect that anyone would come along and steal their porridge, and so they hadn’t bothered to lock the door of the house when they went out. Goldilocks went inside. First she tasted the porridge of the great, huge bear, and that was too hot for her. Then she tasted the porridge of the middle bear, and that was too cold for her. Then she went to the porridge of the little, small wee bear, and tasted it. And that was neither too hot nor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it all up.
