[Note: this tale was first published in the edition of 1819; it was obtained from an unknown informant in Mühlheim-am-Rhein. About the Grimm Collection.]
One evening a poor farmer was sitting by the hearth and poking the fire while his wife was spinning. Then he said, “How sad that we have no children! It’s so quiet in our house, while in other houses there’s so much noise and fun.” “Yes,” answered his wife with a sigh, “if we only had one single child and even if it were very tiny, only as big as a thumb, I’d be really content. And we’d love it with all our hearts.” Now it happened that the wife got sickly and after seven months gave birth to a child which was, to be sure, perfect in all its parts but no taller than a thumb. Then they said, “It’s as we wished and it shall be our darling child,” and from its size they named it Tom Thumb. They gave him plenty to eat, but the child grew no bigger, just stayed as he was the first hour he was born. Nevertheless he had an intelligent look and soon turned out to be a clever and nimble little thing, lucky in everything he undertook.
One day the farmer was getting ready to go to the forest to cut wood and said to himself, “Now I wish there was somebody to come after me with the cart.” “Oh, father,” cried Tom Thumb, “of course I’ll bring it; you can count on it, it’ll be in the forest at the time you say.” Then the man laughed, saying, “How can it? You’re much too small to lead the horse by the bridle.” “That doesn’t matter, father. If mother will just hitch up the horse, I’ll sit in its ear and call out to it how to go.” “Well,” answered the father, “we’ll try it once.”
When the time came, the mother hitched up the horse and put Tom Thumb in its ear, and then the little fellow called out to the horse how to go: “Hup! Whoa! Gee! Ree!” Then everything went as smooth as under a master coachman, and the cart took the right way toward the forest. Now it happened, just as the cart was turning a corner and the little chap was calling “Gee! gee!” that two strangers came along. “My!” said one, “what’s that? There goes a cart, and a driver’s calling to the horse, yet he isn’t to be seen.” “That’s weird,” said the other, “let’s follow the cart and see where it stops.” The cart went clear into the forest and straight to the spot where the wood was being cut. When Tom Thumb saw his father, he called to him, “You see, father, here I am with the cart. Now take me down.” The father held the horse with his left hand and with his right took his little son out of the horse’s ear. The boy sat down gaily on a straw.
When the two strangers saw Tom Thumb, they didn’t know what to say from amazement. Then one took the other aside and said, “Listen, that little fellow might make our fortunes if we exhibited him for money in a big city. Let’s buy him.” So they approached the farmer, saying, “Sell us the little man; we’ll treat him well.” “No,” answered the father, “he’s the apple of my eye and I won’t sell him for all the gold in the world.” However, when he heard the proposal, Tom Thumb crept up on the pleat of his father’s coat, got on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Father, do give me away; I’ll come back again all right.” Then his father handed him over to the two men in return for a handsome sum of money. “Where do you want to sit?” they said to him. “Oh, just put me on the brim of your hat, then I can walk up and down and view the landscape and not fall off, either.”
They did as he asked, and when Tom Thumb had taken leave of his father, they set out with him. They went on till it got dusk. Then the little fellow said, “Take me down; you simply must.” “Just stay up there,” said the man on whose head he was sitting, “I shan’t mind it. The birds, too, sometimes drop something on me.” “No,” said Tom Thumb, “I know what’s proper. Just hurry up and lift me down.” The man took off his hat and set the little chap in a ploughed field by the roadside. Then he crawled and jumped a little here and there among the clods of earth, hunted out a mouse hole, and suddenly slipped into it. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he called out laughing at them, “now go home without me.” They came running up and poked in the mouse hole with sticks but in vain. Tom Thumb crawled farther and farther back, and since it soon got quite dark, they had to walk home again full of rage and with an empty purse.
When Tom Thumb saw that they were gone, he crept out again from the underground passage. “It’s so dangerous walking in the dark,” he said, “how easily one can break one’s neck or leg!” Luckily he ran against an empty snail shell. “Thank goodness,” he said, “here I can spend the night in safety,” and sat down in it. Before long, as he was falling asleep, he heard two men passing; one of them said, “How shall we go about getting the rich parson’s money and his silver?” “I could tell you that,” Tom Thumb interrupted. “What’s that!” said one of the thieves in a fright. “I heard somebody speak.” They stopped and listened. Then Tom Thumb spoke again, “Take me along and I’ll help you.” “Where are you?” “Just search the ground and notice where the voice comes from,” he replied. The thieves finally found him and lifted him up. “You little creature, how are you going to help us?” they said. “Look,” he answered, “I’ll creep between the iron bars into the parson’s room and hand you whatever you want.” “All right,” they said, “we’ll see what you can do.” When they got to the rectory, Tom Thumb crawled into the room, at the same time immediately shouted with all his might, “Do you want everything that’s here?” The thieves were frightened and said, “Please do talk softly, so as not to wake anybody up.” But Tom Thumb acted as though he hadn’t understood them and again shouted, “What do you want? Do you want everything that’s here?”
The cook, who was sleeping in the next room, heard that, sat up in bed and listened. In their fright the thieves had, however, retreated a little; finally they plucked up courage again and thought, “The little chap’s trying to tease us,” so they came back and whispered to him, “Now be serious and hand us out something.” Then Tom Thumb once more shouted out as loud as he could. “I’m quite willing to give you everything. Just put your hands in here.” The maid, who was listening, heard this most distinctly, jumped out of bed, and stumbled in through the door. The thieves took to their heels and ran as if the Wild Huntsman was after them. When, however, the maid couldn’t see anything, she went to light a candle. When she came along with it, Tom Thumb, without being seen, betook himself to the barn while the maid, having searched every nook and corner and finding nothing, went back to bed and thought she’d just been seeing and hearing things in her sleep.
Tom Thumb climbed about in the hay and found a nice place to sleep; he planned to rest up there until daybreak and then go back to his parents. But other experiences were in store for him. Alas, the world is full of sorrow and misery! Already at the first crack of dawn the maid got up to feed the cattle. Her first trip was to the barn, where she picked up an armful of hay and the very hay in which poor Tom Thumb was lying asleep. He was sleeping so soundly, however, that he didn’t notice anything and didn’t wake up until he was in the mouth of a cow, which had gathered him in with the hay. “Good heavens,” he cried, “how did I get into the fulling mill!” but soon saw where he was.
He had to watch out not to get between the cow’s teeth and be crushed, and anyway in the end he couldn’t help slipping down into the stomach along with the hay. “They forgot the windows in this little room,” he said, “and the sun doesn’t get in, and no one’s bringing a light.” On the whole he thought the quarters bad, and, worst of all, more new hay kept coming in the door, and the place got more and more cramped. In his fright he finally shouted as loud as he could, “Don’t bring me any more fodder! Don’t bring me any more fodder!” The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard talking without seeing anyone and heard the voice that was the same, too, that she’d heard in the night, she got so frightened that she slipped off her stool and spilled the milk. In all haste she ran to her master, crying, “Good heavens, parson, the cow’s been talking!” “You’re mad,” answered the rector, but all the same he went into the stable himself to see what was up. Scarcely had he set foot there than Tom Thumb shouted, “Don’t bring me any more fodder! Don’t bring me any more fodder!” Then the rector himself got frightened, thought that an evil spirit had entered the cow, and ordered it killed.
It was slaughtered, but the stomach with Tom Thumb inside it was thrown on the dungheap. Tom Thumb had great difficulty in working himself through but managed to clear the way. Nevertheless, as he was about to stick his head out, a new misfortune occurred. A hungry wolf came along and swallowed the whole stomach in one gulp. Tom Thumb didn’t lose courage. “Perhaps”’ he thought, “the wolf will listen to reason,” and from its belly he called out, “Dear wolf, I know of a wonderful meal for you.” “Where can I get it?” said the wolf. “In such and such a house: you’ll have to crawl in through the drain, but you’ll find all the cake, bacon, and sausage you want,” and described his father’s house to him in detail.
The wolf didn’t have to be told twice, squeezed through the drain at night, and ate to its heart’s content in the pantry. When it had eaten its fill, it wanted to go away again but it had got so fat that it couldn’t go back out the same way. Tom Thumb had counted on this and now began to make a tremendous noise inside the wolf, roaring and yelling as loud as he could. “Will you be quiet,” said the wolf, “you’re waking the people up.” “What do I care?” answered the little fellow. “You’ve eaten your fill; I want to have some fun, too,” and began anew to yell with all his might. This finally awakened his father and mother; they ran to the pantry and looked in through a crack. On seeing the wolf in there, they ran away; the man fetched an ax and his wife a scythe. “Stand back,” said the man as they went into the pantry. “If I give it a blow and that doesn’t kill it at once, you must go for it and cut it to pieces.”
Then Tom Thumb heard his father’s voice and shouted, “Father dear, I’m here inside the wolf.” Then his father said joyfully, “Thank God we’ve found our dear child again,” and ordered his wife to lay the scythe aside so as not to hurt Tom Thumb. Then he hauled off and dealt the wolf such a blow on its head that it fell down dead. Then they got a knife and scissors, cut it open, and pulled the little fellow out again. “My,” said the father, “how we’ve been worrying about you!” “Yes, father, I’ve been about in the world a lot. Thank heaven that I can breathe fresh air again.” “Where all have you been?” “Oh, father, I was in a mouse hole, in a cow’s stomach, and a wolf’s belly, and now I’ll stay with you and mother.” “And we shan’t sell you again for all the riches in the world,” said the parents, hugging and kissing their darling Tom Thumb. They gave him food and drink and had new clothes made for him, for his own had been ruined on the journey.
