the clothes. This tailor’s name was Nicholas, and he did his work in a manner that no one could understand. He was seen to cut out the cloth, but no one ever saw him sewing: however, the clothes which were entrusted to him were always well made, were strongly sewed, and were always finished by the day on which he had promised them. As soon as he had taken the measure, he cut out the cloth, put the pieces into a box, and then went out to smoke and drink at a tavern. Some said that Nicholas was a wizard, but a great many said that he had sold himself to the Devil, and they were not far from the mark; for when Satan knew that Nicholas had been sent for to Kerleau to make the wedding clothes, he came to him, and said:
“I have got to have my revenge upon that fellow Laurent, and I reckon upon your doing me a good turn: now you must give me his daughter, or it will be the worse for you! Do you understand me, you tippler?”
“All right,” said the tailor. “But how and when shall I deliver Jeannette to you?”
“Oh, I leave you the choice of the means; but as you are going to Kerleau to-morrow, to-morrow I must have Jeannette. Now I warn you not to fail.”
So the next day Nicholas was at Kerleau, and began to cut out the cloth early in the morning, when suddenly he said to Jeannette, who was watching him;
“Good gracious! what a bother! I’m pulled up short for want of my tools. I’ve left my box behind me, and I can’t get on for want of it.”
“Oh, never mind,” said the girl, “I’ll go and fetch it for you.”
“You’re no end of a good girl, Jeannette,” said the tailor; “here’s my key, you’ll find the box on the board just beneath the window. But mind you don’t open it, or you’ll meet with a misfortune.”
“No, no, ease your mind on that score, said Jeannette, “I won’t open it.” And she ran off.
When she had got the box, she put it under her arm, and carried it carefully without venturing even to look at it. Presently she thought she heard something inside it—yes, there it was again; a regular whispering—a tittering, and what a queer clatter—what an odd noise it is “I wonder whether I could see through the keyhole;” so she took the key out: “Bother! I can’t see anything—the box must be double. If I were to open it—only a little bit? No, that won’t do, Nicholas told me that there would be some accident if I did. However, it was only to frighten me that he said so! He’s a cunning fellow, and does not want his secret to get wind. It’s all nonsense; what could happen if Tdid just look into it? If there is an animal inside, it can’t eat me, for it’s not as big as I am.”
Reasoning thus, Jeannette, who was then in the middle of a wide common, gently opened the lid of the box about an inch, but no sooner had she done this, than a whole host of little dwarfs—not so large as your thimble, each with a little red cap upon his head—leapt to the ground, and dancing around her, shrieked at the top of their voices:
“Some work, mistress; some work!”
Jeannette stood quite stupefied, with her mouth open, and looking at the little men as they gambolled about her. But at this demand for work, she thought she was lost unless she could satisfy them; so she cried out:
“Come, little red caps, pull up all the brush wood on the common.”
So they immediately began to pull up the tufts of broom, and in an instant the whole common was cleared.
“Some work, mistress, some work!” they cried again.
“Make a great pile of the tufts you have pulled up,” said Jeannette. And they made a heap as high as an oak.
“Some work, mistress, some work!” said they again.
“Now, my little men,” said Jeannette, climb up to the top of this pile and jump down into the box. Whereupon they clambered up to the top and leapt lightly down. As soon as the last was in the box, Jeannette double-locked it, and ran with it as hard as she could to the tailor.
So Nicholas took all the pieces of cloth which he had cut, and stuck needles and thread into them, and then opened his box to give them to his dwarfs to sew; but at the sight of the little men who stretched out their hands thoroughly stained green. He cried out:
“What have you been doing, Jeannette, with my little men, that they have made their hands so dirty?”
“Oh!” she replied, “lam sorry to say that, in running back as fast as I could, I let the box slip, and all the poor little men fell upon the grass, and when I picked them up I forgot to wipe their hands.”
“Ah! Jeannette,” said the tailor, “you are very fortunate to have fared no worse.”
“Well, never mind,” she answered, “and as your little men are hard at work, come and taste our cyder.”
So Nicholas drank hard all day to drown his vexation, and at night he could scarcely get up to his room. However, when he was there, he opened his box, and the dwarfs all jumped out and cried:
“Some work, master; some work!”
“Carry me down into the yard,” said Nicholas, “I want some fresh air, and my legs won’t carry me.” So they took him down and placed him on the ground, saying, again:
“Some work, master; some work!”
“Always that same accursed song!” said Nicholas. “Well, pick up all the chips that the stone-masons have been making.”
So the little redcaps filled every corner of the yard, and soon made a heap of all the chips; then they ran back to Nicholas again, singing:
“Some work, master; some work!”
But Nicholas was snoring, and when they had half awoke him, all that he could say was: “Go to the devil.”
At these words the little demons carried off the unhappy tailor, placed him on the heap of grit and chips which they had collected, rolled him again and again in it, and rubbed it into him till it reached his very marrow, and he became stone. And then they placed him under that turret, where he stands to this day.