Germans, as well as with our "Jack the Giant Killer," but he starts lower than these—he starts from the dustbin and the coal-hole. There he sits idle whilst all work; there he lies with that deep irony of conscious power, which knows its time must one day come, and meantime can afford to wait. When that time comes, he girds himself to the feat, amidst the scoffs and scorn of his flesh and blood; but even then, after he has done some great deed, he conceals it, returns to his ashes, and again sits idly by the kitchen-fire, dirty, lazy, and despised, until the time for final recognition comes, and then his dirt and rags fall off,—he stands out in all the majesty of his royal robes, and is acknowledged once for all a king. In this way does the consciousness of a nation, and the mirror of its thought, reflect the image and personification of a great moral truth, that modesty, endurance, and ability will sooner or later reap their reward, however much they may be degraded, scoffed at, and despised by the proud, the worthless, and the overbearing.[1]
As a general rule, the women are less strongly marked than the men; for these Tales, as is well said, are uttered "with a manly mouth;[2] and none of the female characters, except perhaps "The Mastermaid," and "Tatterhood," can compare in strength with "The Master-Smith," "The Master-Thief," "Shortshanks," or "Boots." Still the true womanly type comes out in full play in such tales as "The Two Step-sisters," p. 113; East o' the Sun and West
