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Updated: June 2, 2025
"A graphic story," said Hardy, "and has the same tendency that you attributed to the Norwegian stories of the people, or Folke-Eventyr." "There is a story more peculiarly belonging to Jutland," said Pastor Lindal, "and that is of a Trold who lived in a wood in a large Kæmpehøi, or tumulus. He was an old grey-bearded Trold, and the people in the district were afraid of him.
"There are several collections of these traditions, and although each collection is generally the same in character, yet the details and stories themselves widely differ. But I will tell you two of the stories. A Trold lived in a barrow between two church towers, about a mile from each other. This Trold had a wife, who was of Christian folk.
The boy said that is nothing, and took the cheese from his pocket and pressed it, so that it appeared as if he was squeezing more out of a stone than the Trold could. So the Trold said, 'I will throw a stone up, and you can count until it comes down. The boy did so, and counted up to one hundred and thirty-one. 'That is good! said the boy.
'But now count for the stone I cast; and the Trold counted, but the boy threw the bird up in the air, and of course it flew away. The Trold was astonished, and asked the boy if he would come into his service. The first thing was to fetch water, as the Trold wanted to brew.
She followed the advice and went home, when the charcoal turned to silver money. The two women, however, became friends, and the midwife often spun flax for the Trold; but she was forbidden to wet her fingers with Christian spittle, and they brought her a little crock to hold water for her to wet her fingers in.
Buckshank bold and Elfinstone, And more than I can mention here, They caused to be built so stout a ship, And unto Iceland they would steer. They launched the ship upon the main, Which bellowed like a wrathful bear; Down to the bottom the vessel sank, A laidly Trold has dragged it there.
Buckshank bold and Elfinstone, And more than I can mention here, They caused to be built so stout a ship, And unto Iceland they would steer. They launched the ship upon the main, Which bellowed like a wrathful bear; Down to the bottom the vessel sank, A laidly Trold has dragged it there.
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