A certain tailor, named Adalbert, who was great at boasting but ill at doing, took it into his head to go and look about the world. As soon as he could manage it, he left his work-shop, and wandered on his way, over hill and dale, sometimes hither, sometimes, thither, but ever on and on.

  Once on his way he perceived in the blue distance a steep hill, and behind it a tower reaching to the clouds, which rose up out of a wild dark forest.

  "Thunder and lightning!" cried Adalbert. "What is that?"

  As he was strongly goaded by curiosity, he went boldly towards it.

  To Adalbert's surprise, however, when he came near the tower, he saw that it had legs. It leapt in one bound over the steep hill, and was now standing as an all-powerful jotun before him.

  "What do you want here, you tiny fly's leg? I am Rock-Beard, the jotun," cried the jotun, with a voice as if it were thundering on every side.
Adalbert whimpered, "I want just to look about and see if I can earn a bit of bread for myself, in this forest."

  "If that is what you are after," said the jotun, "you may have a place with me."

  "If it must be, why not? What wages shall I receive?"

  "You shall hear what wages you shall have. Every year three hundred and sixty-five days, and when it is leap-year, one more into the bargain. Does that suit you?"

  "All right," replied Adalbert, and thought:

  "A man must cut his coat according to his cloth. I will try to get away as fast as I can."

  At this the jotun said to him, "Go, little ragamuffin, and fetch me a jug of water."

  "Had I not better bring the well itself at once, and the spring too?" asked the boastful tailor, and went with the pitcher to the water.

  "What, the well and the spring too?" growled the jotun in his beard, for he was somewhat of a silly dolt, and began to be afraid. "That knave is not a fool, he has a mandrake in his body. Be on your guard, old Rock-Beard, this is no serving-man for you."

  When Adalbert had brought the water, the jotun bade him go into the forest, and cut a couple of blocks of wood and bring them back.
"Why not the whole forest, at once, with one stroke!"

  "The whole forest, young and old, with all that is there, both gnarled and smooth, and the well and its spring too," growled the credulous jotun in his beard, and was still more terrified. "The knave can do much more than bake apples, and has a mandrake in his body. Be on your guard, old Rock-Beard, this is no serving-man for you."

  When Adalbert had brought the wood, the jotun commanded him to shoot two or three wild boars for supper.

  "Why not rather a thousand at one shot, and bring them all here?" inquired the insolent tailor.

  "What?" cried the timid jotun in great terror. "Let well alone to-night, and lie down to rest."

  The jotun was so terribly alarmed that he could not close an eye all night long for thinking what would be the best way to get rid of this accursed sorcerer of a servant.

  Time brings counsel. Next morning Rock-Beard, the jotun, and Adalbert, the tailor, went to a marsh, round which stood a number of willow-trees.

  Then said the jotun, "Listen, tailor, seat yourself on one of the willow-branches. I long of all things to see if you are big enough to bend it down."

  All at once Adalbert was sitting on it, holding his breath, and making himself heavy, so heavy that the bough bent down. When, however, he was compelled to draw breath, it hurled him - for unfortunately he had not put his goose in his pocket - so high into the air that he never was seen again, and this to the great delight of Rock-Beard, the jotun.

  If Adalbert, the tailor, has not fallen down again, he must still be hovering about in the air.


Based on The Giant and the Tailor