Tom Thumb

There once lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old woman was chopping cabbage for pies when she accidentally struck her hand and cut off her little…

There once lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old woman was chopping cabbage for pies when she accidentally struck her hand and cut off her little finger. She threw it behind the stove. Suddenly she heard someone speaking there in a human voice:

“Mother! Take me out of here.”

Astonished, she made the sign of the holy cross and asked:

“Who are you?”

“I’m your little son, born from your little finger.”

The old woman lifted him out and saw a tiny, tiny boy, so small he barely rose above the ground! She named him Tom Thumb.

“And where is my father?” asked Tom Thumb.

“He’s gone out to plough.”

“I’ll go and help him.”

“Go on, little one.”

He came to the field.

“God help you, Father!”

The old man looked all around.

“What a marvel!” he said. “I hear a human voice, but I can’t see anyone. Who is speaking to me?”

“I’m your little son.”

“But I’ve never had any children!”

“I’ve only just been born into this world. Mother was chopping cabbage for pies and cut off her little finger. She threw it behind the stove, and I became Tom Thumb! I’ve come to help you plough the land. Sit down, Father, eat what God has provided and rest a little!”

The old man was delighted and sat down to eat. Tom Thumb climbed into the horse’s ear and began to plough. First, though, he told his father:

“If anyone offers to buy me, sell me without fear. Don’t worry: I won’t come to harm, and I’ll come home again.”

A gentleman rode past and looked on in wonder: the horse was walking, the plough was working, but there was no person to be seen!

“No one has ever seen or heard of such a thing,” he said, “a horse ploughing all by itself!”

“What’s the matter, are you blind?” the old man replied. “My son is doing the ploughing.”

“Sell him to me!”

“No, I won’t. He’s the only joy and comfort my old wife and I have!”

“Sell him, old man!” the gentleman insisted.

“Well then, give me a thousand rubles and he’s yours!”

“Why so dear?”

“You can see for yourself: he’s small but clever, swift on his feet and quick to run an errand!”

The gentleman paid a thousand, took the boy, put him in his pocket and rode home. But Tom Thumb soiled his pocket, gnawed a hole through it and got away.

He walked and walked until the dark night overtook him. He hid beneath a blade of grass beside the road and lay down, ready to sleep. Three thieves came by.

“Good evening, fine fellows!” said Tom Thumb.

“Good evening!”

“Where are you going?”

“To the priest’s.”

“What for?”

“To steal some oxen.”

“Take me with you!”

“What use would you be? We need a fellow who can strike once and knock the life out of someone!”

“I can be useful too: I’ll slip under the gate and open it for you.”

“That’s a thought! Come along.”

The four of them came to the rich priest’s house. Tom Thumb slipped under the gate, opened it and said:

“You fellows wait here in the yard. I’ll go into the shed, choose the best ox and bring it out to you.”

“Very well!”

He went into the shed and shouted at the top of his voice:

“Which ox shall I take, the brown one or the black?”

“Don’t make such a noise,” the thieves told him. “Take whichever comes to hand.”

Tom Thumb brought them the very best ox. The thieves drove it into the forest, slaughtered it, removed the hide and began dividing the meat.

“Well, fellows,” said Tom Thumb, “I’ll take the entrails. That will be quite enough for me.”

He took the entrails and climbed straight inside to sleep through the night, while the thieves divided the meat and went home.

A hungry wolf came along and swallowed the entrails with the boy inside. There he sat, alive in the wolf’s belly, with little to worry about! It went badly for the grey wolf. Whenever he saw a flock of sheep grazing and the shepherd asleep, and crept up to steal a sheep, Tom Thumb would shout at the top of his voice:

“Shepherd, shepherd, smelling of sheep! You’re asleep, and the wolf is stealing a sheep!”

The shepherd would wake up, rush at the wolf with his club and set the dogs on him. The dogs tore at him until tufts went flying! The poor creature barely escaped!

The wolf grew terribly thin and was close to starving.

“Come out!” the wolf begged.

“Carry me home to my father and mother, and then I’ll come out,” said Tom Thumb.

The wolf ran to the village and leapt straight into the old man’s house. Tom Thumb at once came out through the wolf’s rear, seized him by the tail and shouted:

“Beat the wolf! Beat the grey one!”

The old man seized one club and the old woman another, and they began beating the wolf. They killed him there, took off his skin and made their son a fur coat. And they lived on together to the end of their days.