The Brave Little Tailor

In a sunny little town, a tailor sat by his window stitching neat, tiny stitches. A woman passed by selling jam, and the sweet smell drifted in. “That will be perfect on my bread,” the tailor said, buying a small jar. He spread the jam thick, took a bite, and—buzz, buzz, buzz—flies came swarming to share his snack.

“Shoo!” he cried, waving his cloth. Whack! He lifted the cloth and counted. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! Seven at one blow!” he shouted in surprise.

His chest puffed with pride. “People should know what I can do,” he decided. So he cut a strip of cloth and stitched bold letters: SEVEN AT ONE BLOW. He tied it around his chest like a sash, packed a bit of cheese and an old bird he had in a pocket net, slid his needle and thread behind his ear, and set off to seek his fortune.

He climbed hills and crossed meadows until he met a giant resting on a boulder. The giant’s eyes fell on the tailor’s sash. “What does that say?” he rumbled.

“Seven at one blow,” the tailor said cheerfully.

The giant’s jaw dropped. “Seven men?”

The tailor only smiled and said nothing. The giant wanted to test him. He picked up a stone and squeezed it until dust fell. “Can you do that?”

“Easily,” said the tailor. He pulled out his cheese, which was soft and wet, and squeezed until whey dripped between his fingers. “See? I squeezed water from a stone.” The giant frowned.

“Throw that stone far,” the giant said, and he flung one high over the cliffs. The tailor took the little bird from his pocket and tossed it upward. The bird beat its wings and flew out of sight. “There,” said the tailor. “Mine went farther.” The giant scratched his head.

“Carry this big tree with me,” the giant said, thinking the tailor would give up. They chopped down a tall tree. “You take the branches,” the giant ordered.

“With pleasure,” said the tailor. He climbed into the branches and sat there. The giant hoisted the trunk, and the tailor rode along, calling, “Go on! You’re doing fine!” After a while the giant was panting, and the tailor hopped down lightly. “You are strong, friend,” he said. The giant had no more tests, but he did not like how clever this little man was.

That night the giant led the tailor to a cave and showed him a huge bed. The tailor guessed he was in danger, so instead of lying in the middle, he curled up in a corner. In the dark, the giant swung an iron bar and smashed the bed in two. “That will finish him,” the giant muttered. But in the morning, the tailor stretched and yawned. “What a good sleep!” he said. The giant’s eyes went wide, and he ran out of the cave and away over the hills.

The tailor walked on until he came to a grand city. Curious townsfolk read his sash and whispered, “Seven at one blow!” Soon the king heard. He did not like battles and thought this bold fellow might be useful—but also a little frightening. He invited the tailor to the castle.

“We need a brave man,” said the king, testing him. “Two giants are troubling our forest. If you defeat them, you shall have great riches, and perhaps my daughter’s hand.”

“Lead me to them,” said the tailor.

He found the two giants napping under a tree, their clubs beside them. The tailor climbed into the branches above and began to toss down small stones. Thump! A stone struck one giant’s nose. “What did you do that for?” the giant shouted at his brother.

“I did nothing!” the other said. The tailor dropped another stone. Smack! The giants leaped up, grabbed their clubs, and began to argue louder and louder until arguing turned to fighting. They swung and stomped and roared, shaking the forest. At last both tumbled to the ground, too battered to rise. The tailor slid down, grinned, and went back to the castle.

“Your giants won’t bother anyone anymore,” he told the king. “Send men if you need proof.” The king’s hunters went into the woods and found it as the tailor said. The king was amazed—but he still wished he could send this dangerous little hero far away.

“One more task,” the king said. “Capture the wild unicorn that destroys our fields.”

“With pleasure,” said the tailor.

He walked into the forest and soon the unicorn thundered toward him, its horn gleaming. “Easy now,” the tailor murmured, stepping behind a sturdy tree. The unicorn charged. At the last heartbeat, the tailor darted aside. Crack! The horn drove so deep into the trunk that the unicorn could not pull free. The tailor tied a strong rope around its neck, pried the horn loose with his axe, and led the proud creature back like a farmer leading a cow.

“Very good,” said the king, hiding his worry. “Last task: catch the wild boar that has scared away all our woodsmen.”

The tailor took a small rope and went straight to the forest chapel. He left the door open and waited. Soon the boar burst from the brush, tusks long and sharp. The tailor called, “Here I am!” and jumped through a side window. The angry boar chased the sound, rushed into the chapel—and the tailor ran around to the door and slammed it shut. “Now I’ve got you safe,” he said. He waved to the king’s hunters to take the boar away.

A promise is a promise. The king gave the tailor the princess’s hand and a grand wedding was held. People cheered, “Hurrah for the brave little tailor! Seven at one blow!” The princess wore a crown of bright flowers and looked at her new husband with curious eyes.

But some nights later, she heard him talking in his sleep. “Measure twice, cut once,” he murmured, exactly like a tailor.

“Aha!” thought the princess. “He’s only a tailor!” She told her father. The king, still uneasy about the sash and the stories, whispered, “Tonight we will send soldiers to take him away.”

The tailor, quick as ever, heard every word. That night he lay down and pretended to sleep. When the soldiers crept into the room, the tailor spoke loudly in his “sleep.”

“Boy,” he muttered, “make the jacket neat. I killed seven at one blow, defeated two giants, caught a unicorn, trapped a wild boar—shall I fear men behind my door?”

The soldiers stared at each other, turned pale, and fled down the hall. No one dared to trouble the tailor again. The princess kept her secret to herself, and in time she grew proud of her clever, cheerful husband.

So the tailor lived in comfort, using his wits for good and his courage to help his people. And whenever anyone asked how such a small man did such big things, he smiled and tapped his sash. “Seven at one blow!” he would say—and everyone felt a little braver.