The Town Musicians of Bremen
A donkey, a dog, a cat and a rooster, all grown old, set off to make music — and find a home and friendship instead
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There was once an old donkey who had carried heavy sacks of grain to the mill, faithfully, year after year, until at last his legs grew stiff and his back grew weary. His master began to grumble that the old creature was no longer worth his feed and meant to turn him out. But the donkey had a plan of his own. "I still have a fine loud voice," he said to himself, "and a good voice is wanted everywhere. I shall go to the town of Bremen and become a town musician!" So that very morning, while the dew still lay on the grass, the old donkey slipped his halter, trotted out of the farmyard gate, and set off down the long country road toward Bremen, his ears up and his heart lighter than it had been in years.
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The donkey had not gone far along the dusty road when he came upon an old hunting hound lying in the shade of a hedge, panting as though he had run a long way. "Why so out of breath, old friend?" asked the donkey. The hound sighed. "I have grown too slow to hunt, and my master no longer has any use for me, so I have run away. But what is to become of me now?" The donkey's ears pricked up. "Come along with me to Bremen!" he said. "I am going to be a town musician. You can beat the drum, and we shall make our fortune with music." The old dog's tail thumped happily in the dust, and he scrambled up to his feet. Two travellers now trotted side by side down the long road to Bremen.
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A little farther on, the two friends found an old grey cat sitting on a stone wall with a face as gloomy as three rainy days. "What has upset your whiskers, old friend?" asked the donkey. "Alas," said the cat, "my teeth are blunt and I would rather doze by the fire than chase mice, so my mistress meant to turn me out. I slipped away — but where am I to go?" "Come to Bremen with us!" said the donkey warmly. "You understand night-music better than anyone. You shall be in our band." The old cat's gloomy face brightened at once. She stretched, leapt lightly down from the wall, and fell into step beside the donkey and the dog. Now three travellers made their way along the winding road, chatting of the fine music they would soon be making together.
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At the next farm they heard a rooster crowing with all his might upon the top of a gate, as loud and as mournful as he could manage. "Why such a doleful song, friend?" called up the donkey. "The cook says I am too old," cried the rooster, "and means to pop me in the pot for Sunday's soup! So I am crowing while I still can." "A voice as fine as yours in a soup pot? Never!" said the donkey. "Come away to Bremen with us and be a musician. You have the best voice of us all — you shall lead the band!" The old rooster flapped down from the gate at once, prouder than ever, and now four travellers — a donkey, a dog, a cat and a rooster — set off together, all bound for Bremen to seek their fortune in music.
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But Bremen was far away, farther than four old travellers could reach in a single day, and as the sun went down they came to a great dark forest and decided to rest there for the night. The donkey and the dog lay down beneath a big tree; the cat climbed into the branches; and the rooster flew right up to the very top, where he could see the farthest. As he settled, the rooster looked all around — and far off through the trees he spied a little light twinkling. "Friends, there must be a house not far away," he called down, "for I can see a light shining!" A warm house, perhaps with supper and a soft bed, sounded far better than the cold forest floor. So the four friends roused themselves and set off together toward the distant, welcoming glow.
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The four friends crept quietly through the trees until they came to a snug little cottage, its window glowing warm and gold. The donkey, being the tallest, stepped softly up and raised himself on his hind legs to peep inside. "What do you see, old grey?" whispered the others. The donkey's eyes went wide. Inside sat a band of scruffy robbers at a table groaning with good things — roast meats and fresh bread, fruit and pies and jugs of cider — while their stolen sacks of treasure lay heaped in the corner. "I see a table spread with the finest supper you ever dreamed of," the donkey whispered back, "and a gang of robbers making themselves very comfortable indeed." It was exactly the sort of supper four hungry travellers longed for — but how were four old animals to clear a houseful of robbers?
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The four friends put their heads together and hatched a clever plan. The donkey braced his forefeet on the window-sill; the dog climbed up onto the donkey's broad back; the cat scrambled up onto the dog; and the rooster flew to the very top of the wobbling tower. Then, at a signal, all four began their "music" at once, as loud as ever they could — the donkey brayed, the dog barked, the cat yowled, and the rooster crowed, all together in a tremendous, ear-splitting din! With a great crash they tumbled in through the window, glass and all, filling the little cottage with the most dreadful, deafening uproar anyone had ever heard. It was not pretty music, it must be said — but it was certainly loud, and for frightening a houseful of robbers out of their wits, it was the finest tune the four had ever played.
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Well! The robbers had never heard such a horrible noise in all their lives. Certain that some fearsome monster had come bursting through the window to get them, they leapt up from the table, knocked over their stools, and fled headlong out of the door into the dark forest, running as fast as their legs would carry them and never once looking back. The four friends could scarcely believe their luck. They shut the door, settled themselves comfortably around the table, and ate the splendid supper the robbers had left behind — every crumb of it — until they were full and happy. Then, when the candles had burned low, each found a cosy place to sleep: the donkey on a pile of straw in the yard, the dog behind the door, the cat by the warm hearth, and the rooster up on a high beam. Soon all four were fast asleep.
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Later that night, when all was dark and quiet, the robbers peering from the forest decided they had been foolish to run, and sent one brave fellow creeping back to see if the house was safe. Inside it was pitch dark. He saw the cat's green eyes glowing by the hearth and took them for two live coals — but when he bent to light his candle, the cat spat and scratched his nose! Startled, he jumped for the door, and the dog, waking, nipped him smartly on the leg. He stumbled across the yard, and the donkey gave him a good hard kick with his hind hooves. And just then the rooster, wide awake on his beam, crowed out "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" into the night. The poor robber fled back to his band, trembling, quite certain that a whole pack of terrible monsters had taken over the house.
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The robbers were so frightened that they never dared come back to the cottage again, and left it to the four friends for good. And the truth is, the donkey, the dog, the cat and the rooster found the snug little house in the forest so warm, so comfortable and so perfectly their own, that they quite forgot about going on to Bremen at all. They stayed, and they lived there happily together for the rest of their days — the donkey grazing in the green yard, the dog guarding the door, the cat dozing by the hearth, and the rooster crowing up the sun each morning. They never did become the town musicians of Bremen. But they had found something far better than a stage: a home, and good friends to share it with, and that, they all agreed, was the finest music of all.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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