Tom Thumb

A poor woodman sat by his cottage fire one night smoking his pipe while his wife spun beside him. They talked of how happy they would be if they had a child, though it were no bigger than their thumbs. Not long afterward the wife had a child who was strong and healthy in every way but no bigger than a thumb. They called him Tom Thumb.

They gave him plenty of food, yet for all their care he never grew bigger, and stayed just the same size as when he was born. Still his eyes were sharp and bright, he learned to talk early, and he soon showed himself a clever little fellow, full of tricks and sense, who could get on well enough in the world if only people would listen to him.

One day as the woodman got ready to cut fuel he wished he had someone to bring the cart after him into the wood. Tom called from his stool, “Father, you need only go on and leave the rest to me; at the right hour the cart shall stand ready among the trees.” “How can that be,” asked the father, “when you are far too small to lead a horse?” “Never mind,” said Tom; “Mother will put me in the right place.” So she harnessed the horse and set Tom carefully into its ear. Sitting there he called out which way to turn—“Gee-up!” and “Wow!”—and the horse obeyed as if a full-grown man held the reins. They went safely along the road. Just as they turned a corner Tom shouted “Hold!” and the cart stopped where two strangers stood staring. They could not see any driver, yet the horse stopped and started at a word. “What a marvel,” said one. “Let us follow the cart and see who is speaking.” They followed the cart to the woodman, who lifted Tom from the horse’s ear. The strangers wanted to display him from town to town and asked his price. Tom climbed to his father’s shoulder and whispered, “Sell me for a large piece of gold, and go home content.” The woodman was loth to part with his son, but Tom urged him, promising he would soon escape and return. At last the father took the gold. At Tom’s request, one stranger put him on the brim of his hat, where he could look around as they traveled.

They journeyed until dusk. Tom said he was tired and asked to get down. They set him on the ground; he slipped among the furrows and hid in a mouse-hole. When they found him gone they hunted until night, then went off empty-handed. Tom came out. “What dangerous walking,” he said. “One false step into a plough-furrow and I should break my neck.” He found an empty snail-shell and said that would be a safe house, and went to sleep in it.

Just as he dozed he heard two men chatting; one said how they might rob the rich parson’s silver and gold. “I will help you,” Tom called. “Who is that?” they asked, seeing nobody. “Take me with you and I’ll get you what you want,” he said. “I can go between the iron window-bars of the parson’s house and hand out whatever you choose.” The thieves were glad of such a little thief and carried him along.

At the house Tom slipped through the bars, then called out as loud as he could, “What will you have? Will you have all that is here?” The cook heard quite plain, sprang out of bed, and ran to open the door. The thieves ran as if a wild beast were at their heels, and left Tom to shift for himself. He crawled about the hay-loft and found a snug place to finish the night.

Before dawn the cook carried a bundle of hay from the loft to the cow’s stall, with Tom still asleep inside it. The cow, hungry after the night, took a great mouthful of hay—Tom and all—and swallowed him down. Inside it was warm, dark, and crowded. He made the best of bad luck, yet he did not like his quarters at all; the worst of it was that more and more hay kept arriving, and the space grew narrower every minute. At last, nearly smothered, he cried out as loud as he could, “Don’t bring me any more hay!” The maid, sitting milking, heard a voice but saw nobody. Terrified, she kicked over her stool and pail and ran to her master. The parson declared it must be the devil speaking from inside the cow and ordered the poor beast killed at once. When the cow was slaughtered Tom took care to keep clear of the knives; the stomach was thrown out on the dunghill, and he set to work to cut his way out—no easy task with no proper tool. Just as he forced an opening and drew a free breath, a hungry wolf that had been prowling near snapped up the stomach with Tom still inside it.

Still not disheartened, Tom thought the wolf would not dislike a chat with him, and called from inside, “My good friend, I can show you a famous treat. Go to such-and-such a house and crawl through the drain into the kitchen, and you will find cakes and bacon and everything your heart can wish.” The house he named was his father’s. The wolf did not want to be asked twice; that night he crawled through and ate so much that he could no longer squeeze back out. This was just what Tom had reckoned upon; he set up a great shout, making all the noise he could. The woodman and his wife, awakened, peeped through a crack; when they saw a wolf they fetched axe and scythe. Tom called out that he was inside the wolf. His father told his mother to hold back the scythe so that she would not hurt him, then struck the wolf a blow that killed it. Looking among the entrails they found their dear child and took him out.

“Ah,” said the father, “what fears we have had for you!” “Yes, father,” answered Tom. “I think I have travelled all over the world, one way or another, since we parted, and now I am very glad to come home and breathe fresh air again.” “Why, where have you been?” “I have been in a mouse-hole, and in a snail-shell, and down a cow’s throat, and in the wolf’s belly; and yet here I am again, safe and sound.” “Well,” said they, “you are come back, and we will not sell you again for all the riches in the world.” They hugged and kissed their dear little son and gave him plenty to eat and drink, for he was nearly starved after so many scrapes, and his mother found him clean clothes, for the old ones had been spoiled by hay, cow and wolf. So Tom stayed at home with his father and mother in peace; for though he had been so great a traveller and was fond enough of telling the whole story, he always agreed that, after all, there is no place like home.

Where this story comes from

This “Tom Thumb” is the Gutenberg English version of a German tale from the Brothers Grimm, Daumesdick, number 37 in Margaret Hunt’s 1884 translation, where he is called “Thumbling”. It is not an Indian story; the text here follows the edition based on Taylor and Edwardes, which gave him the English name Tom Thumb.

The Grimms heard it at Mühlheim on the Rhine. Their note groups it with their other thumb-sized hero, “Thumbling as Journeyman”, and lists related tales in Slavonic, Romanian and Albanian collections.

The source includes the killing of both animals and the parents’ agreement never to sell their son again.

Read the original: Grimms’ Fairy Tales, tr. Edgar Taylor and Marian Edwardes (Project Gutenberg #2591, Tom Thumb)

Best for ages 9–12 with adult discussion. Includes a child being sold for public display, being swallowed by animals, and the killing and opening of those animals. His magical survival should not make the sale seem harmless.

Reading the story closely

Tom’s voice travels farther than his body can be seen. It guides the horse, alarms the thieves, frightens the cow’s keepers and finally tells his parents where he is. The same mismatch between sight and sound can give him control or put another creature in danger: the cow is killed because the parson misreads what he hears.

Map each place as shelter, transport or trap, allowing a place to change categories. Then compare the strangers’ plan to profit from displaying Tom with his parents’ final promise. His ingenuity helps him survive, but it does not remove the adults’ responsibility for protecting him.

Talk about it

• Why did Tom tell his father to sell him to the strangers?
• Which of Tom’s escapes did you think was the cleverest, and why?
• Being tiny caused Tom trouble but also helped him. How does the story turn an ordinary furrow into danger and a snail-shell into shelter?

Related stories

• The Valiant Little Tailor — another small Grimm hero who survives by quick thinking and bold talk
• The Elves and the Shoemaker — tiny Grimm helpers who sew shoes for a poor shoemaker at night
• The Little Peasant — a Grimm trickster who gets out of every scrape with a clever story