The Tinderbox

Once there was a soldier marching home from war with nothing but a sword at his side. On the road he met an old woman with a wrinkled face and a red cap. “Good evening, soldier,” she croaked. “You have been brave. Do something for me and you shall be rich as a king. Do you see that hollow tree? If you climb down inside it, you’ll find three great rooms. In each room sits a dog guarding a chest of money. Put each dog on my blue-checked apron, and it won’t harm you. Take what you like. Only bring me an old tinderbox my grandmother forgot there.”

The soldier thought, Why would an old witch want a tinderbox? But he loved the idea of treasure. He tied a rope around his waist, and the old woman lowered him into the hollow tree. Down he went into the first room. There sat a dog with eyes as big as teacups, staring without blinking, on a chest full of copper coins. The soldier laid the dog gently on the blue-checked apron, filled his pockets, and went on.

In the second room a dog with eyes as big as mill wheels sat on a chest of silver. The soldier set that dog on the apron too and filled a big bag with silver. In the third room the dog had eyes as big as the Round Tower of Copenhagen itself, and it sat on a chest full of gold. The soldier carefully lifted this enormous-eyed dog onto the apron and stuffed his knapsack, his pockets, his hat—everything—with gold. At last he found the old tinderbox in a wooden drawer. “What is this for?” he called up.

“That is nothing to you,” the old woman answered. “Give it to me at once.”

“Tell me what it does,” said the soldier, “or you shall not have it.” The woman stamped and screeched, but she would not tell. The soldier grew angry. He drew his sword, and that was the end of the witch. He kept the tinderbox, called for the rope, and climbed out with all his riches. Then he went to town, bought fine clothes, and moved into the grandest inn. He gave money to the poor, tossed gold to children to see their smiles, and lit candles in every room. But spending gold is easy, and soon his bag grew light. He left the grand inn for a small garret under the roof and began to feel very poor again.

One cold evening he remembered the old tinderbox. “I could light my candle with this,” he said. He struck it once—snap!—and in a flash the dog with eyes like teacups stood before him. “What does my master command?” it asked. The soldier gasped, then whispered, “Money!” Off went the dog and returned with a hat full of coins. The soldier struck the tinderbox twice—snap, snap!—and the dog with eyes like mill wheels bounded in. A third time—snap, snap, snap!—and there came the largest dog of all, with eyes like the Round Tower, ready to do whatever he wished. From then on, whenever the soldier needed anything—gold, silver, or help—the dogs came at a spark.

In that city there was a princess whom no one was allowed to see. A fortune-teller had said she would marry a common soldier, and the king and queen had locked her high in a copper castle with many towers. “I must see her,” thought the soldier. That night he struck once, and the dog with teacup eyes appeared. “Bring me the princess,” whispered the soldier. The dog leaped away and soon returned, carrying the princess fast asleep. She was so lovely that the soldier could not help but kiss her gently on the hand. Before morning light, the dog carried her back to the castle.

In the morning the princess said, “I had the strangest dream. I rode through the town and visited a soldier.” The queen was suspicious. That night she told a lady-in-waiting to follow the dog. When the dog fetched the princess again, the woman ran after them and marked the soldier’s door with a white chalk cross. “Now we shall find him,” she said. But the soldier saw the mark when he woke. He took a piece of chalk and drew a white cross on every door in the street. So when the king and queen came looking, they could not tell which was which.

“Then we shall be cleverer,” said the queen. The next night she took a sewing needle and thread and made a little bag filled with flour. She pinned it under the princess’s cloak and snipped a tiny hole so that flour would sprinkle wherever the princess went. Again the dog carried the sleeping princess through the streets—but the fine white trail led straight to the soldier’s house. In the morning the soldiers of the king arrived. They took the soldier to prison and soon after led him out to be hanged in the square. The people gathered sadly, for many liked the generous soldier with the open hand.

“Before I die,” said the soldier, “may I have one last wish—to smoke a pipe?” “Yes,” said the king, “one last wish is allowed.” But the soldier had left his tinderbox with a friend. “I cannot light it without my tinderbox,” he added. A page was sent to fetch it. The soldier struck it once—snap!—and the dog with teacup eyes came. “Help me,” whispered the soldier. He struck it twice—snap, snap!—and the dog with mill-wheel eyes appeared. A third time—snap, snap, snap!—and the great dog with eyes like the Round Tower thundered in so hard the ground shook.

The dogs leaped among the judges and counselors, who tumbled this way and that. The soldiers dropped their pikes and ran. The dogs gently set the rope aside and lifted the soldier high. The people cheered. Some shouted, “We like him better than the king!” Others cried, “He shall be our king!” The big dog wagged his tail at the princess, who had come to the window with wide eyes. Soon the king and queen had no more to say about it at all. The crowd carried the soldier to the palace, and bells began to ring.

That very day, the soldier was crowned. He married the princess, who smiled and said she had known, even in her dreams, that he had a kind heart. The three dogs sat at the wedding table, each with a golden collar and a silver bowl. As for the tinderbox, it was kept in a safe place, to be used only for good. And if you ever see a very large dog in a blue-checked apron, you will know that a single spark can change a life, and that sometimes the bravest hearts are found in the most ordinary coats.