LITTLE ONE-EYE, LITTLE TWO-EYES, AND LITTLE THREE-EYES

Edition and rights: Original English text from Project Gutenberg ebook #7277, marked public domain in the USA. The literary text below is reproduced without AI rewriting.

Browse more fantasy stories.

There was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest was
called Little One-eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her
forehead; and the second, Little Two-eyes, because she had two eyes like
other people; and the youngest, Little Three-eyes, because she had three
eyes, and her third eye was also in the middle of her forehead. But
because Little Two-eyes did not look any different from other children,
her sisters and mother could not bear her. They would say to her, ‘You
with your two eyes are no better than common folk; you don’t belong to
us.’ They pushed her here, and threw her wretched clothes there, and gave
her to eat only what they left, and they were as unkind to her as ever
they could be.

It happened one day that Little Two-eyes had to go out into the fields to
take care of the goat, but she was still quite hungry because her sisters
had given her so little to eat. So she sat down in the meadow and began to
cry, and she cried so much that two little brooks ran out of her eyes. But
when she looked up once in her grief there stood a woman beside her who
asked, ‘Little Two-eyes, what are you crying for?’ Little Two-eyes
answered, ‘Have I not reason to cry? Because I have two eyes like other
people, my sisters and my mother cannot bear me; they push me out of one
corner into another, and give me nothing to eat except what they leave.
To-day they have given me so little that I am still quite hungry.’ Then
the wise woman said, ‘Little Two-eyes, dry your eyes, and I will tell you
something so that you need never be hungry again. Only say to your goat,

“Little goat, bleat, Little table, appear,”

and a beautifully spread table will stand before you, with the most
delicious food on it, so that you can eat as much as you want. And when
you have had enough and don’t want the little table any more, you have
only to say,

“Little goat, bleat, Little table, away,”

and then it will vanish.’ Then the wise woman went away.

But Little Two-eyes thought, ‘I must try at once if what she has told me
is true, for I am more hungry than ever’; and she said,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table appear,’

and scarcely had she uttered the words, when there stood a little table
before her covered with a white cloth, on which were arranged a plate,
with a knife and fork and a silver spoon, and the most beautiful dishes,
which were smoking hot, as if they had just come out of the kitchen. Then
Little Two-eyes said the shortest grace she knew, and set to work and made
a good dinner. And when she had had enough, she said, as the wise woman
had told her,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table, away,’

and immediately the table and all that was on it disappeared again. ‘That
is a splendid way of housekeeping,’ thought Little Two-eyes, and she was
quite happy and contented.

In the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a little
earthenware dish with the food that her sisters had thrown to her, but she
did not touch it. The next day she went out again with her goat, and left
the few scraps which were given her. The first and second times her
sisters did not notice this, but when it happened continually, they
remarked it and said, ‘Something is the matter with Little Two-eyes, for
she always leaves her food now, and she used to gobble up all that was
given her. She must have found other means of getting food.’ So in order
to get at the truth, Little One-eye was told to go out with Little
Two-eyes when she drove the goat to pasture, and to notice particularly
what she got there, and whether anyone brought her food and drink.

Now when Little Two-eyes was setting out, Little One-eye came up to her
and said, ‘I will go into the field with you and see if you take good care
of the goat, and if you drive him properly to get grass.’ But Little
Two-eyes saw what Little One-eye had in her mind, and she drove the goat
into the long grass and said, ‘Come, Little One-eye, we will sit down
here, and I will sing you something.’

Little One-eye sat down, and as she was very much tired by the long walk
to which she was not used, and by the hot day, and as Little Two-eyes went
on singing.

‘Little One-eye, are you awake? Little One-eye, are you asleep?’

she shut her one eye and fell asleep. When Little Two-eyes saw that Little
One-eye was asleep and could find out nothing, she said,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table, appear,’

and sat down at her table and ate and drank as much as she wanted. Then
she said again,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table, away.’

and in the twinkling of an eye all had vanished.

Little Two-eyes then woke Little One-eye and said, ‘Little One-eye, you
meant to watch, and, instead, you went to sleep; in the meantime the goat
might have run far and wide. Come, we will go home.’ So they went home,
and Little Two-eyes again left her little dish untouched, and Little
One-eye could not tell her mother why she would not eat, and said as an
excuse, ‘I was so sleepy out-of-doors.’

The next day the mother said to Little Three-eyes, ‘This time you shall go
with Little Two-eyes and watch whether she eats anything out in the
fields, and whether anyone brings her food and drink, for eat and drink
she must secretly.’ So Little Three-eyes went to Little Two-eyes and said,
‘I will go with you and see if you take good care of the goat, and if you
drive him properly to get grass.’ But little Two-eyes knew what Little
Three-eyes had in her mind, and she drove the goat out into the tall grass
and said, ‘We will sit down here, Little Three-eyes, and I will sing you
something.’ Little Three-eyes sat down; she was tired by the walk and the
hot day, and Little Two-eyes sang the same little song again:

‘Little Three eyes, are you awake?’

but instead of singing as she ought to have done,

‘Little Three-eyes, are you asleep?’

she sang, without thinking,

‘Little Two-eyes, are you asleep?’

She went on singing,

‘Little Three-eyes, are you awake? Little Two-eyes, are you
asleep?’

so that the two eyes of Little Three-eyes fell asleep, but the third,
which was not spoken to in the little rhyme, did not fall asleep. Of
course Little Three-eyes shut that eye also out of cunning, to look as if
she were asleep, but it was blinking and could see everything quite well.

And when Little Two-eyes thought that Little Three-eyes was sound asleep,
she said her rhyme,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table, appear,’

and ate and drank to her heart’s content, and then made the table go away
again, by saying,

‘Little goat, bleat, Little table, away.’

But Little Three-eyes had seen everything. Then Little Two-eyes came to
her, and woke her and said, ‘Well, Little Three-eyes, have you been
asleep? You watch well! Come, we will go home.’ When they reached home,
Little Two-eyes did not eat again, and Little Three-eyes said to the
mother, ‘I know now why that proud thing eats nothing. When she says to
the goat in the field,

“Little goat, bleat, Little table, appear,”

a table stands before her, spread with the best food, much better than we
have; and when she has had enough, she says,

“Little goat, bleat, Little table, away,”

and everything disappears again. I saw it all exactly. She made two of my
eyes go to sleep with a little rhyme, but the one in my forehead remained
awake, luckily!’

Then the envious mother cried out, ‘Will you fare better than we do? you
shall not have the chance to do so again!’ and she fetched a knife, and
killed the goat.

When Little Two-eyes saw this, she went out full of grief, and sat down in
the meadow and wept bitter tears. Then again the wise woman stood before
her, and said, ‘Little Two-eyes, what are you crying for?’ ‘Have I not
reason to cry?’ she answered, ‘the goat, which when I said the little
rhyme, spread the table so beautifully, my mother has killed, and now I
must suffer hunger and want again.’ The wise woman said, ‘Little Two-eyes,
I will give you a good piece of advice. Ask your sisters to give you the
heart of the dead goat, and bury it in the earth before the house-door;
that will bring you good luck.’ Then she disappeared, and Little Two-eyes
went home, and said to her sisters, ‘Dear sisters, do give me something of
my goat; I ask nothing better than its heart.’ Then they laughed and said,
‘You can have that if you want nothing more.’ And Little Two-eyes took the
heart and buried it in the evening when all was quiet, as the wise woman
had told her, before the house-door. The next morning when they all awoke
and came to the house-door, there stood a most wonderful tree, which had
leaves of silver and fruit of gold growing on it—you never saw
anything more lovely and gorgeous in your life! But they did not know how
the tree had grown up in the night; only Little Two-eyes knew that it had
sprung from the heart of the goat, for it was standing just where she had
buried it in the ground. Then the mother said to Little One-eye, ‘Climb
up, my child, and break us off the fruit from the tree.’ Little One-eye
climbed up, but just when she was going to take hold of one of the golden
apples the bough sprang out of her hands; and this happened every time, so
that she could not break off a single apple, however hard she tried. Then
the mother said, ‘Little Three-eyes, do you climb up; you with your three
eyes can see round better than Little One-eye.’ So Little One-eye slid
down, and Little Three-eyes climbed up; but she was not any more
successful; look round as she might, the golden apples bent themselves
back. At last the mother got impatient and climbed up herself, but she was
even less successful than Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes in catching
hold of the fruit, and only grasped at the empty air. Then Little Two-eyes
said, ‘I will just try once, perhaps I shall succeed better.’ The sisters
called out, ‘You with your two eyes will no doubt succeed!’ But Little
Two-eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not jump away from her, but
behaved quite properly, so that she could pluck them off, one after the
other, and brought a whole apron-full down with her. The mother took them
from her, and, instead of behaving better to poor Little Two-eyes, as they
ought to have done, they were jealous that she only could reach the fruit
and behaved still more unkindly to her.

It happened one day that when they were all standing together by the tree
that a young knight came riding along. ‘Be quick, Little Two-eyes,’ cried
the two sisters, ‘creep under this, so that you shall not disgrace us,’
and they put over poor Little Two-eyes as quickly as possible an empty
cask, which was standing close to the tree, and they pushed the golden
apples which she had broken off under with her. When the knight, who was a
very handsome young man, rode up, he wondered to see the marvellous tree
of gold and silver, and said to the two sisters, ‘Whose is this beautiful
tree? Whoever will give me a twig of it shall have whatever she wants.’
Then Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes answered that the tree belonged
to them, and that they would certainly break him off a twig. They gave
themselves a great deal of trouble, but in vain; the twigs and fruit bent
back every time from their hands. Then the knight said, ‘It is very
strange that the tree should belong to you, and yet that you have not the
power to break anything from it!’ But they would have that the tree was
theirs; and while they were saying this, Little Two-eyes rolled a couple
of golden apples from under the cask, so that they lay at the knight’s
feet, for she was angry with Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes for not
speaking the truth. When the knight saw the apples he was astonished, and
asked where they came from. Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes answered
that they had another sister, but she could not be seen because she had
only two eyes, like ordinary people. But the knight demanded to see her,
and called out, ‘Little Two-eyes, come forth.’ Then Little Two-eyes came
out from under the cask quite happily, and the knight was astonished at
her great beauty, and said, ‘Little Two-eyes, I am sure you can break me
off a twig from the tree.’ ‘Yes,’ answered Little Two-eyes, ‘I can, for
the tree is mine.’ So she climbed up and broke off a small branch with its
silver leaves and golden fruit without any trouble, and gave it to the
knight. Then he said, ‘Little Two-eyes, what shall I give you for this?’
‘Ah,’ answered Little Two-eyes, ‘I suffer hunger and thirst, want and
sorrow, from early morning till late in the evening; if you would take me
with you, and free me from this, I should be happy!’ Then the knight
lifted Little Two-eyes on his horse, and took her home to his father’s
castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes, and food and drink, and
because he loved her so much he married her, and the wedding was
celebrated with great joy.

When the handsome knight carried Little Two-eyes away with him, the two
sisters envied her good luck at first. ‘But the wonderful tree is still
with us, after all,’ they thought, ‘and although we cannot break any fruit
from it, everyone will stop and look at it, and will come to us and praise
it; who knows whether we may not reap a harvest from it?’ But the
next morning the tree had flown, and their hopes with it; and when Little
Two-eyes looked out of her window there it stood underneath, to her great
delight. Little Two-eyes lived happily for a long time. Once two poor
women came to the castle to beg alms. Then Little Two-eyes looked at then
and recognised both her sisters, Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes, who
had become so poor that they came to beg bread at her door. But Little
Two-eyes bade them welcome, and was so good to them that they both
repented from their hearts of having been so unkind to their sister.

Grimm.