Little Claus and Big Claus Page #2

"Little Claus and Big Claus" is a cheeky and darkly humorous tale by Hans Christian Andersen. It showcases a unique dynamics between two farmers of different statuses. Big Claus is wealthy with four horses, while Little Claus, owning just one horse, is significantly poorer. Through a series of clever tricks, lies, and comedic misadventures woven into the storyline, the plot unfolds as Little Claus repeatedly outsmarts Big Claus. The story explores themes like cleverness over power, and the reversal of fortunes.

• Children

								

ask him,--can you not?" he asked, treading at the same time on the
sack till it squeaked. "Do you hear? he answers 'Yes,' but he fears
that we shall not like to look at him."

"Oh, I am not afraid. What will he be like?"

"Well, he is very much like a sexton."

"Ha!" said the farmer, "then he must be ugly. Do you know I cannot
endure the sight of a sexton. However, that doesn't matter, I shall
know who it is; so I shall not mind. Now then, I have got up my
courage, but don't let him come too near me."

"Stop, I must ask the conjuror," said Little Claus; so he trod
on the bag, and stooped his ear down to listen.

"What does he say?"

"He says that you must go and open that large chest which stands
in the corner, and you will see the evil one crouching down inside;
but you must hold the lid firmly, that he may not slip out."

"Will you come and help me hold it?" said the farmer, going
towards the chest in which his wife had hidden the sexton, who now lay
inside, very much frightened. The farmer opened the lid a very
little way, and peeped in.

"Oh," cried he, springing backwards, "I saw him, and he is exactly
like our sexton. How dreadful it is!" So after that he was obliged
to drink again, and they sat and drank till far into the night.

"You must sell your conjuror to me," said the farmer; "ask as much
as you like, I will pay it; indeed I would give you directly a whole
bushel of gold."

"No, indeed, I cannot," said Little Claus; "only think how much
profit I could make out of this conjuror."

"But I should like to have him," said the fanner, still continuing
his entreaties.

"Well," said Little Claus at length, "you have been so good as
to give me a night's lodging, I will not refuse you; you shall have
the conjuror for a bushel of money, but I will have quite full
measure."

"So you shall," said the farmer; "but you must take away the chest
as well. I would not have it in the house another hour; there is no
knowing if he may not be still there."

So Little Claus gave the farmer the sack containing the dried
horse's skin, and received in exchange a bushel of money--full
measure. The farmer also gave him a wheelbarrow on which to carry away
the chest and the gold.

"Farewell," said Little Claus, as he went off with his money and
the great chest, in which the sexton lay still concealed. On one
side of the forest was a broad, deep river, the water flowed so
rapidly that very few were able to swim against the stream. A new
bridge had lately been built across it, and in the middle of this
bridge Little Claus stopped, and said, loud enough to be heard by
the sexton, "Now what shall I do with this stupid chest; it is as
heavy as if it were full of stones: I shall be tired if I roll it
any farther, so I may as well throw it in the river; if it swims after
me to my house, well and good, and if not, it will not much matter."

So he seized the chest in his hand and lifted it up a little, as
if he were going to throw it into the water.

"No, leave it alone," cried the sexton from within the chest; "let
me out first."

"Oh," exclaimed Little Claus, pretending to be frightened, "he
is in there still, is he? I must throw him into the river, that he may
be drowned."

"Oh, no; oh, no," cried the sexton; "I will give you a whole
bushel full of money if you will let me go.

"Why, that is another matter," said Little Claus, opening the
chest. The sexton crept out, pushed the empty chest into the water,
and went to his house, then he measured out a whole bushel full of
gold for Little Claus, who had already received one from the farmer,
so that now he had a barrow full.

"I have been well paid for my horse," said he to himself when he
reached home, entered his own room, and emptied all his money into a
heap on the floor. "How vexed Great Claus will be when he finds out
how rich I have become all through my one horse; but I shall not
tell him exactly how it all happened." Then he sent a boy to Great
Claus to borrow a bushel measure.

"What can he want it for?" thought Great Claus; so he smeared
the bottom of the measure with tar, that some of whatever was put into
it might stick there and remain. And so it happened; for when the
measure returned, three new silver florins were sticking to it.

"What does this mean?" said Great Claus; so he ran off directly to
Little Claus, and asked, "Where did you get so much money?"

"Oh, for my horse's skin, I sold it yesterday."

"It was certainly well paid for then," said Great Claus; and he
ran home to his house, seized a hatchet, and knocked all his four
horses on the head, flayed off their skins, and took them to the
town to sell. "Skins, skins, who'll buy skins?" he cried, as he went
through the streets. All the shoemakers and tanners came running,
and asked how much he wanted for them.

"A bushel of money, for each," replied Great Claus.

"Are you mad?" they all cried; "do you think we have money to
spend by the bushel?"

"Skins, skins," he cried again, "who'll buy skins?" but to all who
inquired the price, his answer was, "a bushel of money."

"He is making fools of us," said they all; then the shoemakers
took their straps, and the tanners their leather aprons, and began
to beat Great Claus.

"Skins, skins!" they cried, mocking him; "yes, we'll mark your
skin for you, till it is black and blue."

"Out of the town with him," said they. And Great Claus was obliged
to run as fast as he could, he had never before been so thoroughly
beaten.

"Ah," said he, as he came to his house; "Little Claus shall pay me
for this; I will beat him to death."

Meanwhile the old grandmother of Little Claus died. She had been
cross, unkind, and really spiteful to him; but he was very sorry,
and took the dead woman and laid her in his warm bed to see if he
could bring her to life again. There he determined that she should lie
the whole night, while he seated himself in a chair in a corner of the
room as he had often done before. During the night, as he sat there,
the door opened, and in came Great Claus with a hatchet. He knew
well where Little Claus's bed stood; so he went right up to it, and
struck the old grandmother on the head, thinking it must be Little
Claus.

"There," cried he, "now you cannot make a fool of me again;" and
then he went home.

"That is a very wicked man," thought Little Claus; "he meant to
kill me. It is a good thing for my old grandmother that she was
already dead, or he would have taken her life." Then he dressed his
old grandmother in her best clothes, borrowed a horse of his neighbor,
and harnessed it to a cart. Then he placed the old woman on the back
seat, so that she might not fall out as he drove, and rode away
through the wood. By sunrise they reached a large inn, where Little
Claus stopped and went to get something to eat. The landlord was a
rich man, and a good man too; but as passionate as if he had been made
of pepper and snuff.

"Good morning," said he to Little Claus; "you are come betimes
to-day."

"Yes," said Little Claus; "I am going to the town with my old
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