St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 2/Wizard Shoemaker
But the shoemaker was very angry, and said: “I am a wizard shoemaker, and unless you mend my apron so that it is as whole as it was before, I do not know what I shall do to you, but it will be something dreadful. There is but one kind of needle that will mend a wizard shoemaker’s leather apron, and neither man can give it to you, nor woman can give it to you. There is but one kind of thread that will do it, and neither man can give it to you, nor woman can give it to you; and there is but one kind of leather that will suffice, and neither man nor woman can give that to you. So, however hard you try, you will fail, and I shall have my revenge.”
“These things,” said the boy, “I shall try to find, and, by good fortune, I may do it.”
So he set forth in the world, going up and down in it, by wood and field, seeking for needle, thread, and leather. He had passed many a pleasant field and many a tall forest, when, at an open space in the wood, he suddenly heard a cry for help.
“Help!” it said, “I am drowning!” Nor could he see water in which any one could drown. But he followed the direction whence the call came, and presently he found a deep well, and heard a splash and the cry from the water below.
“Be of good cheer,” he called down, “I am coming to help you.” Then he began to descend, putting his fingers and toes firmly in the chinks between the stones, and taking care lest he fall. In the dark water at the bottom, he found something splashing. This he lifted carefully to his shoulder, and climbed out again. When he had set it upon the ground, he saw that it was a porcupine, that shook the water from its quills, and said:
“Thank you, kind boy, for taking me from the well. I should surely have drowned had you not come to my rescue. Because you helped me, what can I do to help you?”
“I am glad to have aided you, but I fear there is nothing you can do to help me,” replied the boy; “I am journeying far to find a certain kind of needle. This morning I shot my arrow at a tree, but it glanced, and tore a big hole in the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron. I must mend this, or he will do me harm, and to do it I must have a certain kind of needle which neither man can give me, nor woman can give me; so I do not see how I am to get it.”
Then the porcupine smiled. “Perhaps I can help you in that, little brother,” he said. “Take hold of one of those long quills in my back, and shut your eyes, and do just as I bid you.”
This the boy did, and the porcupine then said: “Pull, little brother; pull as hard as you can!” The boy pulled, and felt the quill coming out of the porcupine’s back as he pulled. So he stopped pulling, not wishing to injure his friend. But the porcupine said again: “Pull as hard as you can, I tell you; never mind me!”
So again the boy pulled, and he felt the quill come out in his hands. Then the porcupine said: “Open your eyes, little brother, and let us see what we have here.”
So the boy opened his eyes, but, to his astonishment, instead of a porcupine’s quill in his hands he found a long, keen, steel needle that he, somehow, knew was just the thing to mend the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron.
So he said to the porcupine: “Thank you, good porcupine, for giving me this splendid needle.”
But the porcupine replied: “Thanks should be from me, for I surely should have drowned if you had not come to my aid. Besides, I go up and down in the world quite a bit, and I have always seen you helping some one; and I am sure that a boy who helps others will find help himself.”
So the boy stuck the needle carefully under the lapel of his coat, and went on his way. He had passed many a sunny hollow and many a shady wood, when he heard a deep “Moo-oo” of distress, and ran in the direction whence the sound came. Soon, in a sunny glade, he found a big mother-cow, calling loudly and looking this way and that, while tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Why, good mother-cow!” the boy cried, “what is the matter?”
“Alas!” said the cow, “I have lost my little calf. Always he waits for me in this sunny glade, but to-day I came back, and he is not here. I do not dare go to hunt for him lest he come while I am gone, so I can only stand here and call.”
“Be of good cheer,” said the boy, “I will help you find your little calf. Wait here, and I will bring him back to you’; and off he ran as fast as he could.
He had passed many a flowering shrub and many an ancient tree, when he came to a dark space in a tall wood whence came a faint cry of “Ma-a! Ma-a!” and he knew that he heard the voice of the little calf. Out of a big box-trap it came, one that men had set to catch a bear alive. Into this the little calf had wandered, and had sprung it.
“Be of good cheer,” called the boy, “I will soon let you out.” And he pulled with all his might at the door of the trap. But it had been made strong enough to hold a bear, and he could not move it. So he said again: “Be of good cheer, I will find some one stronger than I am to help me pull, and we will let you out.” And on he ran as fast as he could.
As he ran, he heard a sound of laughter coming from a sunny glade, and there he saw a big donkey, sitting down in the grass, his hind legs sticking straight out in front of him, his front hoofs planted between them, and his head wagging up and down, and his ears flopping. Every time he wagged his head he laughed, “Hee ha-aw! Hee ha-aw!” and, seeing him, the boy looked about in astonishment.
“Why, good donkey,” he said, “what is the joke?”
“I am,” replied the donkey, “and I am laughing at myself. Every day I draw big loads and love to do it, for I am quite the strongest donkey anywhere about. But to-day I thought I would have a vacation and rest here in the sun, and, do you know, I am so homesick for a good load to pull, that I do not know what to do.”
“Good!” said the boy, “come with me, and I will find for you the hardest pull you ever had.” Whereupon the donkey leaped to his feet, and ran with the boy toward the bear trap, laughing, “Hee ha-aw! Hee ha-aw!’’ as he went, so glad was he that he was to find hard work once more.
At the bear trap, the boy fastened the donkey securely to the door, took hold himself, and both pulled as hard as they could. It was a strong door, but nothing could withstand the joyous pull of that donkey, and with a crash they ripped it off the trap. The calf trotted out immediately, but neither he nor the boy had time to properly thank the donkey, who went right on, up the hill and through the wood, dragging the door after him, and laughing all the way in his joy at finding such hard work to do.
But the boy and calf ran as fast as they could to the sunny glade where the big mother-cow was waiting for them. Very glad, indeed, she was to see the calf, and soon he was eating his dinner while the mother-cow cried a little still, but now for joy, and smoothed his ruffled fur with her big red tongue.
“Thank you, kind boy,” she said, “for finding my little calf. I do not know what I should have done without your help. Now tell me, what can I do to help you?”
“I am glad to have aided you,” replied the boy, “but I fear there is nothing you can do to help me. I am journeying far to find a certain kind of thread. This morning I shot my arrow at a tree, but it glanced, and tore a big hole in the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron. I must mend this, or he will do me harm, and to do it I must have a certain kind of thread which neither man can give me, nor woman can give me; so I do not see how I am to get it.”
Then the cow smiled. “Perhaps I can help you in that, little brother,” she said. “Take hold
This the boy did, and the cow then said: “Pull, little brother; pull as hard as you can.” The boy pulled, and soon he felt the hairs coming out in his hands.
Then the cow said: “Open your eyes, little brother, and let us see what we have here.”
So the boy opened his eyes, but, to his astonishment, instead of hairs his hands were full of just the finest kind of brown threads, just the thing, he was sure, to mend the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron.
“Thank you, kind cow,” said he, “for giving me this splendid thread.”
But the cow replied: “Thanks should be from me. I should never have seen my calf again without your help. Besides, I go up and down in the world quite a bit, and always I have seen you helping some one, and I am quite sure that a boy who helps others deserves help himself.”
So the boy put the thread carefully in his pocket, and went on his way. He had passed many a sandy hillside and many a rocky cliff, when he again heard a cry for help. This seemed to come from a cave among big rocks, and when he ran into it, he saw there a bat that had been caught by a big snake.
“Help!” cried the bat, and the boy replied by snatching up a big stone and throwing it at the snake. It hit him—tunk—and the snake turned an inquiring eye upon the boy, who immediately caught up another, larger stone, and hit the snake with a louder tunk. Thereupon the snake turned both eyes inquiringly on the boy, and, seeing him pick up a third even larger
“Thank you, kind boy,” said the bat, “for saving me from that dreadful snake; but I am bitten so deep that I fear now I shall die unless I can anoint my wound with some of the honey-dew bee-balm that is made at the hive of the fairy bees.”
“Be of good cheer,” said the boy, “I will bring this balm. Wait for me here, and I will soon be back.” And away he ran as fast as he could to the hive of the fairy bees. There he saw a big working bee, pausing a moment on the door-step with a load of wax.
He was about to speak, when the busy bee said: “I know what you are after. I go everywhere for miles, and I see everything. You want balm for the injured bat up in the cave. Wait here for me a moment, and I will bring it out for you. But please keep very quiet, for within they are putting some of the baby bees to sleep.”
“I will keep very quiet,’ said the boy, and soon he saw the busy bee coming out.
“Well!” said the bee, “I ’m glad to see you again. Here is an acorn-cup full of honey-dew bee-balm for your friend up in the cave.”
The boy took the balm, thanked the bee, and ran as fast as he could to the cave, where he found the bat still alive, though
feeling quite weak. No sooner had they rubbed the balm on his wound, however, than he revived, and the wound healed immediately.
“Thank you, kind boy,’ said the bat, “for bringing me this balm, without which I should surely have died. You have been
of great help to me; what can I do to help you?”“I am glad to have aided you,” said the boy, “but I fear there is nothing you can do to help me. I am journeying far to find a certain kind of leather. This morning I shot my arrow at a tree, but it glanced, and tore a big hole in the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron. I must mend this, or he will do me harm, and to do it I must have a certain kind of leather which neither man can give me, nor woman can give me; so I do not see how I am to get it.”
Then the bat smiled and said: “Perhaps I can help you in that, little brother. Take hold of my wing, shut your eyes, and do just what I tell you.”
This the boy did, and the bat then said: “Pull, little brother; pull as hard as you can!” The boy did, but when he felt the bat’s wing coming off in his hands, he stopped, for he did not wish to injure his friend. But the bat said again: “Pull as hard as you can, I tell you; do not mind me!”
So again the boy pulled, and soon he felt the bat’s wing come off in his hands. Then the bat said: “Open your eyes, little brother, and let us see what we have here.”
To the boy’s astonishment, the bat still had two wings, and in his hand, instead of one of them, was the softest and finest leather he had ever seen, just the kind, he was sure, to mend the wizard shoemaker’s leather apron.
“Thank you, good bat,’ he said, “for giving me this splendid leather.”
But the bat replied: “Thanks should be from me. I should have died without your help, and besides, I go up and down in the world quite a bit, and I have always seen you helping some one; and I am very sure that a boy who helps others deserves help himself.”
“THE WIZARD SHOEMAKER WAS SO ENRAGED THAT HE SPRANG CLEAR TO THE CEILING.” (SEE PAGE 103.)
So the boy put the leather carefully in his other pocket, and started for the village where he knew the wizard shoemaker was waiting to see him come back unsuccessful. But, running as fast as he could, he paused at a pond where he saw three dragon-flies, one silver, one gold, and one blue in color. Driven by a sudden gust of wind into the water, they were about to drown.
“Great as is my haste,” said the boy, “I cannot leave these gentle creatures to drown.” So he ran to a boat that was near by, paddled to the dragon-flies, lifted them to the gunwale of the boat with his paddle, then paddled ashore and started again, leaving the dragon-flies drying their wings in the sun. But before he was gone, they called to him.
“Thank you, kind boy,’ they said. “We fly everywhere, and we shall surely know when you are in trouble, and come to your aid.”
“So!” said the wizard shoemaker when he saw the boy, “you have come back unsuccessful. Neither man nor woman could give you that needle, so how could you expect to get it, I should like to know!”
“But I have the needle!” said the boy. “My friend the porcupine gave it to me.”
The wizard was so enraged at this that he sprang high in air and came down on the floor with a bang that made the windows rattle. “The thread!” he said, “you never could get the thread! Neither man nor woman could give it to you, so how could you expect to get it?”
“But I have the thread!” said the boy. “My good friend the mother-cow gave it to me.”
Thereupon the wizard sprang again in air, coming down with two bangs on the floor, making the windows rattle twice. “But the leather!” he cried, “you never could get the leather! Of that I am sure!”
“I have the leather,” replied the boy. “My good friend the bat gave it to me.”
This time the wizard jumped higher yet, and the bang with which he came down made the windows rattle three times. Then he smiled a cunning smile. “Oh, well!’ he said, “you never can mend it, for all that.”
But the boy took the apron and tried, for all that. Strange to say, he could do little. The needle unthreaded itself as fast as threaded, and the leather persistently curled out of place. He was almost in despair, and the wizard shoemaker was fairly dancing for joy at his ill success, when the three dragon-flies came sailing up. The silver one and the gold one took the wizard shoemaker by each ear and held his head back against the wall. He was in great fear of them, and was trembling like a leaf.
Then the blue one said gently: “Let me show you, little brother. See,” he said, “the needle has two ends; let us try the other end. The thread has two ends as well; let us try the other end of that.”
The boy did so, and the thread fairly leaped into the eye of the needle and remained there.
“Now,” said the dragon-fly, “observe that a piece of leather has two sides; let us try the other side.”
The boy did so, whereupon the leather fairly cuddled into place, and the needle seemed to fly back and forth through it of itself, the thread making so fine a stitch that, when the work was done, which it soon was, the apron showed no patch, nor any sign of one, but was as whole as it had ever been.
When the dragon-flies released the wizard shoemaker, and he saw this, he was so enraged that he sprang clear to the ceiling, banging his head against it, and had no sooner alighted on the floor than he rushed with bowed head through the door, butting it open in his haste; rushed through his front fence in the same way, and went on across a field and through the neighboring wood, where he soon was out of sight; but he could be heard for long after, bang-butting his way along among the trees.
No one has ever seen him come back, but the people of that town, to this day, when they hear a sudden wind crashing through the forest, smile and say, “There goes the wizard shoemaker!”’
As for the boy, he did not wait even a minute to see whether the wizard shoemaker came back or not, but ran home to tell his mother all about it; and I think that he ran faster then than at any other time during the day.
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