From Once Upon a
Time When the Princess Rescued the Prince
by Rosemary Lake
Once there was a poor little girl named Nora who lived all alone with her mean stepfather, in a lighthouse tower on a tiny island. Her stepfather made her spend all her time digging in the vegetable garden that he had planted round the tower. No matter what went wrong, he always said it was Nora's fault, and punished her and made her work harder.
One day the stepfather said, “We need more vegetables. I want you to plant a bed of turnips on top of the tower.”
“On top of the tower?” said Nora. “But there is no dirt up there.”
“Here, take this basket and carry some dirt up the ladder, then. It will keep you out of mischief.”
So the little girl had to climb up and down the tower a hundred times, carrying up basketfuls of dirt, till she had made a bed for the turnips. Then she had to smooth the dirt and plant the turnip seeds. When she had finished planting the whole bed, her stepfather ordered: “Make another bed, and then another, so the turnips will come ripe at different times.” So Nora had it all to do over again, and again.
Still, there was one good thing. The ladder which went up the outside of the tower, was so weak and shaky that her stepfather didn't dare climb it himself. So all the time she was working on the top of the tower, Nora felt free. She had the seagulls for company, and she could look over to the mainland where there were beautiful woods and meadows, and when she felt tired she could be still and rest, between the clouds and the waves.
So Nora spent a lot of time caring for the turnips, and they grew very well. But when the turnips in the first bed were nearly ready to dig and eat, one morning when she climbed to the roof of the tower she found the whole first bed empty. There was nothing there but holes in the dirt.
“Where are the turnips?” her stepfather demanded when she came down empty-handed.
“I don't know,” said Nora.
So her stepfather spanked her. “Someone has stolen my turnips,” he said, “and I'm sure it must be your fault in some way. Now you must row to the mainland and find the turnips and have the thieves arrested.”
Nora was glad to take their little boat and row to the mainland, so as to get away from her stepfather for a while. On the mainland she searched all day through woods and fields and meadows, but never saw a trace of the stolen turnips.
Just as the sun was going down, Nora came to a tiny lake hidden far out in the woods. In the lake was an island, and on the island was a tiny house, with bright cozy light shining from all the windows. A pretty rowboat was tied to the bank of the lake, so she rowed over to the island.
As Nora rowed closer, she heard childlike laughter from the house. Little merry faces were looking out the windows.
Nora knocked at the door. Suddenly everything became quiet and the faces disappeared. But from inside she could smell turnips.
She pushed the door open. The house was full of brightly painted tables and chairs and cuckoo clocks and toys. A rocking horse was still rocking, but no people could be seen.
Nora followed the smell and found a table which was smooth and clean and bare, except for one big blue and white bowl. The bowl was almost empty, but there were a few scraps of raw turnip stuck to the sides.
By now Nora was so tired and hungry that she sat down and began eating the turnip scraps.
“Ooooooh, she's a friend” … “Ooooooh, she's all right” … “Ooooooh, she likes turnips!” Suddenly little laughing elves appeared all around her, patting her and smiling in the friendliest manner. From bright-painted cupboards around the room, they brought out all kinds of nice foods for her in pretty blue and white dishes, finishing up with hot chocolate and hot cherry pie. “We're so glad you came to visit,” they said. “We like you.”
“I like you too,” Nora said. “But did you take my stepfather's turnips?”
“Yes – yes – yes! And very good too!”
“How did you get them from the top of our tower?”
The elves just laughed.
“May I have the turnips back? I wouldn't mind, but my stepfather wants them.”
The elves laughed again. “So sorry, we ate them all. But we'll trade. We'll give you our magic tablecloth.” Three elves ran to a cupboard and came back carrying a plain white cloth.
“It's a very nice cloth,” Nora said politely, “What does it do?”
“We'll show you,” the elves said. They threw the cloth up in the air and when it came down, it spread itself over their table and instantly a wonderful meal appeared on the cloth, with all sorts of good things to eat in pretty china dishes. “This magic tablecloth is very useful,” they said. “You will never have to grow any more vegetables.”
“Except turnips,” one elf said mournfully. “It won't do turnips.”
“But,” the others said hastily, “it does something even better.” After they had all finished eating, they threw the tablecloth in the air again, and all the dishes and scraps vanished, so there was no cleaning up.
“That's wonderful!” said Nora. “But don't you need the tablecloth for yourselves?”
“No matter,” the elves laughed. “We have plenty of treasures. All we need is turnips.”
Nora thanked the elves and set off for home. When my stepfather has plenty to eat, she thought, maybe he won't be so mean.
When Nora arrived home, her stepfather said: “You've been gone long enough! Where are my turnips? Did you get the thieves arrested?”
“No,” she said, “they traded for the turnips. They gave me a magic tablecloth.”
“Magic tablecloth my left foot!” growled her stepfather. “Magic treasures never last. What is it supposed to do?”
“I'll show you,” said Nora. She threw the cloth up in the air and when it came down, it spread itself over their table. Instantly a wonderful meal appeared, with all sorts of good things to eat in pretty little china dishes. When the stepfather and Nora had finished eating, she threw the tablecloth in the air again, and everything vanished, so there was no cleaning up. “Now we will not have to grow any more vegetables,” she said. “Except turnips.”
“Oh, yes we will,” said her stepfather.
“The elves said I would never have to grow any more vegetables,” said Nora, “so I am not going to.”
After Nora went to bed, her stepfather hid the magic tablecloth in his strongbox and put an ordinary tablecloth in its place. Next morning when Nora got up, she threw the tablecloth in the air, and nothing happened.
“What did I tell you?” said her stepfather. “Magic treasures never last. Now get back to work in the garden.”
So there was nothing for Nora but to go back to tending the vegetables.
Soon the turnips in the second bed were nearly ready to dig and eat. But when she climbed to the roof of the tower one morning, she found the second bed empty. There was nothing there but holes in the dirt.
Again Nora’s stepfather spanked her and sent her off to search for the thieves. This time she went straight to the tiny house on the island in the tiny lake.
The elves ran to greet her, smiling and patting and hugging her. “How is the magic tablecloth?” they asked.
“It stopped working,” she said. “Or my stepfather stole it, or something. Did you take his turnips again?”
“Yes – yes – yes! And very good too!”
“May I have them back? I wouldn't mind, but my stepfather wants them.”
The elves laughed. “So sorry, we ate them all. But we'll trade. We will give you our magic goat.” Three elves ran outside and came back leading a pretty little white goat on a silken rope.
Nora hugged the goat and rubbed behind his ears. “What does he do?”
“We'll show you,” the elves said. They took a currycomb and brushed the goat's fur, and flakes of real gold fell out. “This goat is very useful,” they said. “You can collect a bag of gold every week.”
“But you already gave me your magic tablecloth,” said Nora. “Don't you need the goat yourselves?”
“No matter,” they laughed. “We have plenty of treasures. All we need is turnips.”
Remembering what had happened with the tablecloth, Nora did not take the goat home. She led him to a hidden meadow near the shore, where there was plenty of sweet grass and fresh water. There she built a little hut for him out of branches and reeds. “Please stay here, pretty little goat,” she said. “I'll visit you as often as I can.”
Whenever her stepfather slept late, Nora would quietly row across to the mainland and visit the goat, feeding him scraps from the vegetable garden and combing gold out of his fur.
Soon the girl had two small bags of gold dust, which she kept hidden in the goat's hut. “When we have three bags full,” she told the goat, “that will be enough to run away from my stepfather and get a barn for you and a house for me, all our own.”
But one day Nora’s stepfather found some gold dust in the boat, so he followed Nora's tracks to the goat’s hut. He took the goat and the bags of gold, and left an ordinary goat instead
For the next month the stepfather kept Nora so busy she had no chance to row to the mainland. When finally she did, she found a goat that gave no gold dust, and was so wild and shaggy that she could not tell if it was the same goat or not.
But when she found the bags of gold gone, and the tracks of a man's boots, Nora was so mad that she rowed straight home and asked her stepfather: “Did you take my gold? What did you do with my magic goat?”
“Magic goat my left foot!” said her stepfather. “Magic treasures never last.” And he spanked her till she was too sore to row, and she did not dare ask any more questions.
So there was nothing for Nora but to go back to tending the vegetables.
Soon the turnips in the third bed were nearly ready to dig and eat. But when she climbed to the roof of the tower one morning, she found the third bed empty. There was nothing there but holes in the dirt.
Again her stepfather spanked her and sent her off to search for the thieves. Again Nora went straight to the tiny house on the island in the tiny lake.
The elves ran to greet her, smiling and patting and hugging her. “How is the magic goat?” they asked.
“He stopped shedding gold,” she said. “Or else my stepfather stole him.”
The elves whispered together, then said, “This time we will give you our magic stick.” Three elves ran to a cupboard and came back carrying a tiny stick all carved and painted in bright colors.
“It's very pretty,” Nora said politely, “What does it do?”
“We'll show you,” they said. “This rug needs cleaning anyway.” So they carried the rug outside and hung it over a clothesline, then spoke to the stick: “Magic stick the rug.”
The tiny stick jumped into the air, grew to the size of a broom, and began beating the rug. Then another elf caught the stick (which shrunk immediately), carried it to an apple tree, and said, “Magic stick the apples.” The stick again jumped into the air, grew to the size of a broom, and began knocking apples down from the tree.
“This magic stick is very useful,” they said. “It can also churn butter and knead bread.”
“But you already gave me your magic tablecloth and your magic goat,” said Nora. “Don't you need this magic stick yourself?”
“You need it,” the elves laughed. “Believe us, you need it!”
Nora thanked the elves and went home, carrying the tiny magic stick in her pocket.
When Nora got home, her stepfather said: “You've been gone long enough! Where are my turnips? Did you get the thieves arrested?”
“I couldn't find any thieves,” Nora lied.
So he spanked her. While he was spanking her, Nora’s stepfather felt the magic stick in her pocket and took it out. “What's this?”
Nora sighed. “It's a magic stick.”
“Magic stick my left foot!” growled her stepfather.
Immediately the tiny stick jumped into the air! It grew to the size of a broom and began beating her stepfather's left foot.
Her stepfather hopped all round the room shouting curses. The magic stick followed him everywhere and kept on beating his left foot.
“This is all your fault!” the stepfather shouted at Nora and began chasing her. The magic stick kept right on beating his left foot.
Nora ran outside and climbed up the shaky ladder to the roof.
The stepfather was so mad that he climbed the ladder after her, and the magic stick kept on beating his left foot.
Just as the stepfather got to the top of the shaky wooden ladder, the ladder collapsed. The wicked stepfather fell down and down to the rocks below and was smashed into a hundred pieces. And the magic stick kept beating his left foot, till finally the tide had washed all the pieces away. Then it shrunk itself tiny again and flew back to Nora.
After that, Nora found the real tablecloth and the real goat where her stepfather had hidden them. The first thing she did was to use the tablecloth to give her and the goat a good meal, with no cleaning up. Then she combed all the tangles out of the goat's fur and began collecting another bag of gold.
So Nora and her little white goat lived peacefully in the lighthouse together till she had collected three bags full of gold. Then Nora rowed to the mainland and got a nice barn for the goat and a nice house for herself, all their own, with a big garden, which she planted all in turnips.
Whenever Nora liked, she visited the elves, and whenever they liked, they visited her; and so the girl and the elves and the white goat all lived in great contentment from then on.
But the elves never would tell her exactly how they had stolen the turnips.
The tale of stolen magic treasures retrieved by a magic stick has many versions, all over Europe. The lighthouse vs. mainland motif and the stepfather are mine, as are most of the details. His left foot is my Bowdlerization of a modern joke. The turnips are Russian.