menu_book Chapter 8

Dutch Fair Tales for Young Folks by William Iliott Griffiths The Elves and Their Antics The Elves are the little white creatures that live between heaven and earth. They are not in the clouds nor down in the caves and mines like the cabooters. They are bright and fair, dwelling in the air in the world of light. The direct heat of the sun is usually too much for them,

so they're not often seen during the day except towards sunset. They love the silvery moonlight. There used to be many folks who thought they had seen the beautiful creatures, full of fun and joy, dancing hand in hand in a circle. In this old days, long since gone by,

there were more people than there are now who were sure they had many times enjoyed the sight of the Alps. Some places in Holland show, by their names, where this kind of fairies used to live. These little creatures that look as thin as gauze were very lively and mischievous, though they often help honest and hard-working people in their tasks, as we shall see. But first and most of all, they were fond of fun.

They loved to vex, cross people and to please those who were Bonnie and Blythe. They hated missers, but they loved a kind and generous. These little folks usually took their pleasure in the grassy meadows, among the flowers and butterflies. On bright nights, they played among the moonbeams. There were certain times when the elves were busy, in such a way as to make men and girls think about them.

Then their tricks were generally in the stable, or in the field among the cows, sometimes in the kitchen or dairy, among the dishes or milk pans. They made an awful mess for the maids to clean up. They tumbled over the churns, upset the milk jugs, and played hoops with the round cheeses. In a bedroom, they made things look as if the pigs had run over them.

When a farmer found the source's mane twisted into knots, or two cows with their tails tied together, he said at once, That's the work of elves! If the mares did not feel well or look untidy, their owners were sure the elves had taken the animals out and had been riding them all night. If a cow was sick or fell down on the grass, it was believed that the elves had shot an arrow into its body. The inquest, held on many a dead calf or its mother, was that it died from an elf shot.

They were so sure of this that even when a stone arrowhead, such as are far-off ancestors used in hunting when they were cavemen, was picked up off the ground, it was called an elf bolt or elf arrow. Near a certain village named Elfberge or Elfhill, because there were so many of the little people in that neighborhood, there was one very old elf named Stiff, which means stiff. Because though so old, he stood up straight as a lance. Even more than the young elves, he was famous for his pranks.

Sometimes he was nicknamed Ha'anikam or Coxkomp. He got his name because he loved to mock the roosters when they crowed early in the morning. With his red cap on, he did look like a rooster. Sometimes he fooled the hands that heard him crowing. Old Stiff loved nothing better than to go to a house where was a party in tours.

All the wooden shoes of the 20 or 30 people within, men and women, girls and boys, would be left outside the door. Old good Dutch folks step out of their heavy timber shoes or clumps before they enter a house. It is always a curious sight at a country church or gathering of people at a party to see the clumps, big and little, belonging to baby boys and girls, and to the big men who wear a number 13 shoe of wood. One wonders how each one of the owners know his own, but he does. Each pair is put in its own place, but old stiff would come and mix them all up together,

and then leave them in a pile. So when the people came out to go home, they had a terrible time in finding and sorting out their shoes. Often they scolded each other, or some innocent boy was blamed for the mischief. Some did not find out till the next day that they had on one foot their own, and on another foot their neighbor's shoe.

It usually took a week to get the clumps sorted out, exchanged, and the proper feet into the right shoes. In this way, which was a special trick with him, this naughty elf, stiff, spoiled the temper of many people. Beside the meadow elves, there were other kinds of elfin lands,

some living in the woods, some in the sand dunes, but those called staacars, or elves of the stall, were old stiff's particular friends. This lived in stables and among the cows. The moss maidens that could do anything with leaves,

even turning them into money helped Stiff, for they too liked mischief. They teased menfolks and enjoyed nothing better than misleading the stupid fellows that fuddled their brains with too much liquor. Stiff's specially famous trick was played on missers. It was this.

When he heard of any old fellow who wanted to save the cost of candles, he would get a cabooters to lead him off in the swamps, where the sooty elves come out on dark nights to dance. Hoping to catch these lights and use them for candles, the mean fellow would find himself in a swamp full of water and chill to the marrow.

Then the kabooters would laugh loudly. Old Stiff had the most fun with another stingy fellow who always scolded children when he found them spending a penny. If he saw a girl buying flowers or a boy giving a copper coin for a waffle, he talked roughly to them for wasting money.

Meeting this mister one day as he was walking along the brick road, Leading from the village, Stiff offered to pay the old man a thousand guilders in exchange for four striped tulips that grew in his garden. The misser, thinking it's real silver, eagerly took the money and put it away in his iron-strong box. The next night, when he went, as he did three times a week,

to count and feel and rub and gloat over his cash, there was nothing but leaves in round form. This, at his touch, crumpled to pieces. The musmaiden laughed uproariously. when the mean old fellow was mad about it.

But let no one suppose that the elves, because they were smarter than the stupid human beings, were always in mischief. No, no, they did, indeed, have far more intelligence than dull-grown folks, lazy boys or careless girls.

But many good things they did. They sewed shoes for poor cobblers when they were sick and made clothes for children when the mother was tired. When they were around, the butter came quick in the churn. When the blue flower of the flax bloom in Holland, the earth in springtime seemed like the sky.

Old Steve then saw his opportunity to do a good thing. Men thought it a great affair to have even coarse linen towed for clothes. No longer knew they hunt the wolf and deer in the forest for their garments. By degrees they learned to make finer stuff, both linen for clothes and sails for ships. In this fabric they spread out on the grass until the cloth was well bleached.

When taken up, it was white as the summer clouds that sailed in the blue sky. All the world admired the product, and soon the word Holland was less the name of a country than of a dainty fabric, so snow-white that it was fit to robe a queen. The world wanted more and more of it, and the Dutch linen weaver grew rich, yet still there was more to come. Now, on one moonlight night in summer, the lady elves, beautiful creatures dressed in gauze and film,

with wings to fly and with feet that made no sound, came down into the meadows for their fairy dances. But when, instead of green grass, they saw a white landscape, they wondered, was it winter? Surely not, for the air was warm, no one shivered or was cold, yet there were whole acres as white as snow, while all the old fairy rings, grass and flowers were hidden. They found that the meadows had become bleaching grounds,

so that the cows had to go elsewhere to get their dinner, and that this white area was all linen. However, they quickly got over their surprise, for elves are very quick to notice things. But now that men had stolen a march on them, they asked whether, after all, these human beings had more intelligence than elves. Not one of these fairies but believed that men and women were the inferiors of elves. So then and there began a battle of wits.

They have spoiled their dancing floor with their new invention, so we shall have to find another, said the elfin queen who led the party. They were very proud of their linen, these men are. But without a spider to teach them, what could they have done? Even a wild boar can instruct these human beings. Let us show them that we also can do even more.

I'll get old stiff to put on his thinking cap. He'll add something new that will make them prouder yet. But we shall get the glory of it, the elves shouted in chorus. Then they left off talking and began their dances, floating the air until they look, from a distance, like a wreath of stars.

The next day, a procession of lovely elf maidens and mothers waited on Stiff and asked him to devise something that would excel the invention of linen, which, after all, men had learned from the spider. Yes, and they would not have any grain fields if they had not learned from the wild boar, added the elf queen.

Old Stiff answered yes at once to their request and put on his red thinking cap. Then some of the girl elves giggled for they saw that he did really look like a cop scumb. No wonder they called him Haan Cam, said one elf girl to the other. Now Old Stiff enjoyed fooling just for the fun of it and he taught all the younger elves that those who did the most work with their hands and head would have the most fun when they were old. First of all, he went at once to see Fro, the spirit of the golden sunshine and the warm summer showers,

who owned two of the most wonderful things in the world. One was his sword, which as soon as it was drawn out of its sheath, against wicked enemies, fought of its own accord and won every battle. Fro's chief enemies were the frost giants, who wilted the flowers and blasted the plants useful to men. Fro was absent when Steve came, but his wife promised he would come next day, which he did.

He was happy to meet all the elves and fairies, and they in turn joyfully did whatever he told them. Fro knew all the secrets of the green fields, for he could see what was in every kernel of both the stalks and the ripe ears. He arrived in the golden chariots, drawn by his wild boar, which served him instead of a horse. Both chariots and boar drove over the tops of the ears of Weave and faster than the wind. The boar was named Gullen, or Golden Bristles, because of its sunshiny color and splendor.

In this chariot, Fro had specimens of all grains, fruits, and vegetables known to man, from which Stiff could choose. For this, he was accustomed to scatter over the earth. When Stiff told him just what he wanted to do, Fro picked out a sheaf of wheat and whispered a secret in his ear.

Then he drove away in a burst of golden glory, which dazzled even the elves that loved the bright sunshine. These elves were always glad to see the golden chariot coming or passing by. Stiff also summoned his aid the Kabuters, and from these ugly little fellows got some useful hints,

for they dwelling in the dark caverns, know many secrets which men used to name alchemy, and which they now call chemistry. Then Stiff fenced himself off from all intruders on the top of a bright sunny hilltop

with his thinking cap on and made experiments for seven days. No elves except his servants were allowed to see him. At the end of a week, still keeping his secret and having instructed a dozen or so of the elf girls in his new arts, he invited all the elves in the law countries

to come to a great exhibition which he intended to give. What a funny show it was! On one long bench were half a dozen wash tabs, and on a table nearby were a dozen more wash tabs, and on a longer table not far away were six ironing boards with smoothing irons. A stove made hot with peat fire was to heat the irons. Behind the tubs and tables stood the twelve elf maidens, all arrayed in shining white garments and caps, as spotless as snow. One might almost think that they were white elves of the meadow and not caboters of the mines.

The wonder was that their linen clothes were not only as dainty as the stars, but that they glisten as if they had laid on the ground during the hoar frost. Yet it was still warm summer. Nothing had frozen or melted, and the rosy-faced elf maidens were as dry as an ivory fan. Yet they resembled the lilies of the garden when pearly with dew drops. When all were gathered together, old Steve called for some of the company, who had come from afar to take off their dusty and travel-stained linen garments and give them to him. These were passed over to the trained girls waiting to receive them.

In a jiffy, they were washed, wrung out, rinsed, and dried. It was noticed that those elf maidens, who were standing at last tub, were intently expecting to do something great. While those five elf-mates at the table took off the hot irons from the stove, they touched the bottom of the flat irons with a drop of water to see if it rolled off hising. They kept their eyes fixed and stiff, who now came forward before all and said in a loud voice, elves and fairies, most maidens and stall sprites, one and all, behold our invention,

which our great friend Fro and our no less helpful friends, the Kabuters, have helped me to produce, now watch me prove its virtues. Forthwith he produced before all a glistening substance, partly in powder and partly in square lumps, as white as chalk. He easily broke up a handful under his fingers and flung it into the fifth tub, which had hot water in it. After dipping the washed garments in a

white gummy mass, he took them up, wrung them out, dried them with his breath, and then handed them to the elf ironers. In a few moments this held up before the company, what a few minutes before had been only dusty and stained clothes. Now they were white and resplendent. No fuller earth could have bleached them thus, nor added so glistening a surface. It was starch, a new thing for clothes.

The fairies, one and all, clapped their hands in delight. What shall we name it? Modestly asked Stiff, of the oldest gnome present. Hereafter, we shall call you Stiffsterk, Stiffstarch, they all laughed. Very quickly did the Dutch folks, men and women, hear and make use of the elves' invention.

Their linen clothes that now look like piles of snow. All over the low countries, women made caps in new fashions, of lace or plain linen, with horns and wings, flaps and crimps, with quilling and with world gigs. Soon in every town, one could read the sign, Here, mangled men. Here we do ironing.

In time, kings, queens, and nobles made huge ruffs, often so big that their necks were invisible, and their heads nearly lost from sight, in rings of quilled linen or of lace that stuck out a foot or so. Worldly people dyed their starch yellow. Zealous folk made it blue, but moderate people kept it snowy white.

Starch added money and riches to the nation. King's treasuries became fat with money gained by taxes laid on roughs and on the cargos of starch, which was now imported by the sheaplode, or made on the spot in many countries. So out of the ancient grain came a new spirit that worked for sweetness and beauty, cleanliness and health.

From a useful substance as old as Egypt was born a fine art that added to the sum of the world's wealth and pleasure. End of the Elves and their Antics.