The Tales of Till Eulenspiegel

3 & 4. How Till learned to walk the tightrope, fell in the River Saale, and avenged the laughter of the townsfolk, making them fight over their shoes.

Translation by Carolyn Place. The number preceding the title indicates the position of this tale within the 95 original episodes published in 1515.


Artwork by Bjorn Wiinblad which decorates one of the Rosenthal steins depicting the antics of Till Eulenspiegel.

Till was born under a special star. While still a baby he developed a prankster's talent and wit. After his father died, he and his mother were poor as churchmice, so his mother encouraged him to take up a profession. But Till wanted to be free as a bird. He wasn't lazy, though. He practiced tricks and acrobatics in their attic. He could walk miles on his hands, tie his legs in knots over his head, recite tongue twisters endlessly without stumbling. And he taught himself to walk a tightrope. But his mother disapproved.

One day, when Till had tied a rope between two houses over the river Saale and was practicing his art to the wonderment of the townsfolk who had come to see him, his mother cut the rope so that Till fell into the river. He didn't hurt himself but his pride was wounded by the laughter of the townspeople who called to him: "We always knew you were still wet behind the ears. Now you can wash your head of all your silly tricks and schemes."

Disapproving of Till's "clowning", his mother cuts his rope and dumps him in the river, to the amusement of the townspeople.
Till's revenge is sweet, as those who mocked him are sent into pandemonium searching for their shoes.
Till thought: "Those silly townspeople stared and wondered while I walked the tightrope. They only laughed when I fell in the river. I'll show them!"

The next day Till called out at the market-place that he would show them new tricks on the rope that afternoon, special tricks never accomplished before. The towns-people were all there and Till didn't disappoint them: he did handstands and strange leaps on the rope to wild applause and acclaim, though secretly they hoped he would fall into the river again. Till called to them: "Shall I show you a trick never done before, the best trick I know?" "Yes," they called. "A trick never before performed?" "Yes," they roared, never asking why they should be privileged to see such stunts. "But you must help", called Till. "I have a long rope in my pocket. Each of you tie your left shoe to the rope and hand it up to me." Everyone complied, expecting a wonderfully funny trick.

Till pulled up the rope with more than a hundred single shoes. "Attention," he yelled, "here comes the one-of-a-kind trick." He pulled out a pair of scissors from his pocket, cut each shoe off individually and threw one here, one there, one every-where, yelling "Yoohoohoo, everyone find his shoe!" And then he watched from the rope while the townspeople hopped around on one foot, each searching for his own shoe or a better one, watching them push and shove and fight and yell. While they had laughed at his misfortune, they begrudged him their own.