A Flea, a Grasshopper, and a Leap-frog
once wanted to see which could jump highest; and they
invited the whole world, and everybody else besides
who chose to come to see the festival. Three
famous jumpers were they, as everyone would say, when
they all met together in the room.
“I will give my daughter to
him who jumps highest,” exclaimed the King; “for
it is not so amusing where there is no prize to jump
for.”
The Flea was the first to step forward.
He had exquisite manners, and bowed to the company
on all sides; for he had noble blood, and was, moreover,
accustomed to the society of man alone; and that makes
a great difference.
Then came the Grasshopper. He
was considerably heavier, but he was well-mannered,
and wore a green uniform, which he had by right of
birth; he said, moreover, that he belonged to a very
ancient Egyptian family, and that in the house where
he then was, he was thought much of. The fact
was, he had been just brought out of the fields, and
put in a pasteboard house, three stories high, all
made of court-cards, with the colored side inwards;
and doors and windows cut out of the body of the Queen
of Hearts. “I sing so well,” said
he, “that sixteen native grasshoppers who have
chirped from infancy, and yet got no house built of
cards to live in, grew thinner than they were before
for sheer vexation when they heard me.”
It was thus that the Flea and the
Grasshopper gave an account of themselves, and thought
they were quite good enough to marry a Princess.
The Leap-frog said nothing; but people
gave it as their opinion, that he therefore thought
the more; and when the housedog snuffed at him with
his nose, he confessed the Leap-frog was of good family.
The old councillor, who had had three orders given
him to make him hold his tongue, asserted that the
Leap-frog was a prophet; for that one could see on
his back, if there would be a severe or mild winter,
and that was what one could not see even on the back
of the man who writes the almanac.
“I say nothing, it is true,”
exclaimed the King; “but I have my own opinion,
notwithstanding.”
Now the trial was to take place.
The Flea jumped so high that nobody could see where
he went to; so they all asserted he had not jumped
at all; and that was dishonorable.
The Grasshopper jumped only half as
high; but he leaped into the King’s face, who
said that was ill-mannered.
The Leap-frog stood still for a long
time lost in thought; it was believed at last he would
not jump at all.
“I only hope he is not unwell,”
said the house-dog; when, pop! he made a jump all
on one side into the lap of the Princess, who was sitting
on a little golden stool close by.
Hereupon the King said, “There
is nothing above my daughter; therefore to bound up
to her is the highest jump that can be made; but for
this, one must possess understanding, and the Leap-frog
has shown that he has understanding. He is brave
and intellectual.”
And so he won the Princess.
“It’s all the same to
me,” said the Flea. “She may have
the old Leap-frog, for all I care. I jumped the
highest; but in this world merit seldom meets its
reward. A fine exterior is what people look at
now-a-days.”
The Flea then went into foreign service,
where, it is said, he was killed.
The Grasshopper sat without on a green
bank, and reflected on worldly things; and he said
too, “Yes, a fine exterior is everything—a
fine exterior is what people care about.”
And then he began chirping his peculiar melancholy
song, from which we have taken this history; and which
may, very possibly, be all untrue, although it does
stand here printed in black and white.