The Fisherman and His Wife (Campfire Story)

There was once a fisherman who lived with his wife, Ilsebill, right down by the sea. And they lived in a hut so small and so dirty that the old German storytellers said it was no better than a chamber pot.

Every day the fisherman went down to the shore and fished. And one day, he was sitting there, looking down into the clear water, and his line went down, and down, deep to the bottom. And when he pulled it up, there was a great big FLOUNDER on the end of it.

And the FLOUNDER said, 'Listen, fisherman. Please let me live. I'm not a real fish. I'm an enchanted prince. I wouldn't taste good anyway. Put me back in the water and let me go.'

'Well,' said the fisherman, 'you don't need to say any more. A fish that can talk, I'd have let go anyway.' And he put the FLOUNDER back in the clear water, and it swam down to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind it. And the fisherman went home to his hut.

'Husband,' said his wife, 'didn't you catch anything today?' 'No,' he said. 'Well, I caught a flounder, but he said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go.'

'And you didn't wish for anything?' said ILSEBILL. 'No. What would I wish for?' 'What would you wish for? Look at this place! We live in a chamber pot! Go back down there and call him, and tell him we want a little cottage. He'll do it.'

The fisherman didn't want to go. But he didn't want to argue with his wife either. So he went down to the shore. And the SEA was all green and yellow, and not nearly as clear as before. He stood at the edge of the water and called out:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

And up swam the FLOUNDER. 'Well, what does she want?' 'Oh,' said the fisherman, 'she says I should have wished for something. She doesn't want to live in our hut anymore. She wants a cottage.' 'Go home,' said the flounder. 'She has it already.'

And when he got home, there was a neat little cottage, with a parlor and a bedroom and a kitchen full of pots and pans, and a little yard out back with chickens and ducks, and a garden full of vegetables and fruit. 'Now,' said the fisherman, 'isn't this nice? Now we'll be happy.' 'We'll see,' said his wife.

That lasted a week. Maybe two. And then ILSEBILL said, 'Husband, this cottage is much too cramped. The yard is tiny. That flounder could have given us something bigger. Go and tell him I want to live in a great stone castle.'

'Wife, the cottage is plenty. Why would we want a castle?' 'Just go! He can do it.' The fisherman's heart was heavy. 'It isn't right,' he said to himself. But he went.

And the SEA was purple, and dark blue, and gray, and thick, and not green and yellow anymore. Still, it was calm. And he called out:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

'Well, what does she want now?' said the FLOUNDER. 'She wants to live in a great stone castle.' 'Go home. She's standing in front of the door.'

And there it was. A castle, with marble halls and servants who flung open the doors, and tables piled with food, and stables full of horses, and a deer park out back. 'Now,' said the fisherman, 'this is it. Now we'll be satisfied.' 'We'll think about it,' said his wife. 'Let's sleep on it.'

The next morning, she woke up first, and she looked out of the window at all that land. And she poked her husband in the ribs with her elbow. 'Husband, get up. We could be king of all that land. Go and tell the flounder I want to be king.' 'King? I don't want to be king!' 'Well, I do!'

So he went. And the SEA was dark gray, and the water heaved up from below and smelled rotten. And he called out:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

'Well, what does she want now?' 'Oh, flounder, she wants to be king.' 'Go home. She is king already.'

And the castle had grown into a palace, with a great tower, and soldiers with drums and trumpets. And there sat his wife on a high throne of gold and diamonds, with a golden crown on her head. 'Well, wife, now you're king.' 'Yes, I'm king.' And he looked at her for a long while. 'Now, wife, there's nothing more to wish for.'

'Oh, no,' said ILSEBILL. 'Time is dragging already. I can't stand it. I'm king. Now I want to be emperor.' 'Wife, the flounder can't make you emperor. There's only one emperor in the whole empire.' 'I am king and you are my husband. Go at once!'

And the fisherman was frightened as he went. 'This isn't going to end well,' he said. And the SEA was black, and thick, and it was boiling up from below, and a wind came over it that churned it into foam. And he called out:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

'Well, what does she want now?' 'Oh, flounder, she wants to be emperor.' 'Go home. She is emperor already.'

And there she sat on a throne two miles high, made of one solid piece of gold, with a crown on her head as tall as a man. And dukes and princes stood around her, bowing. 'Wife, now you're emperor.' 'Yes. I'm emperor.' 'Then let that be enough.'

'Husband,' said ILSEBILL, 'I want to be pope.' 'Pope? There's only one pope in the whole world! He can't make you pope!' 'Go!' And so he went, and he was shaking, and his knees were knocking together.

And the SEA was roaring now. A storm blew across it, and the clouds flew, and out on the water the ships were firing their guns for help and tossing on the waves. The sky was still a little blue in the middle, but red all around the edges, like a great thunderstorm coming. And in despair, he called out:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

'Well, what does she want now?' 'Oh, flounder, she wants to be pope.' 'Go home. She is pope already.'

And she was. She sat on a throne even higher than before, in a great church, with a thousand candles burning around her, and every king and emperor in the world on their knees in front of her, kissing her slipper. 'Wife, now you're pope. Be satisfied. You can't go any higher than that.'

'I'll think about it,' she said. And they went to bed. And he slept soundly, because he'd walked a long way that day. But she couldn't sleep. All night she tossed and turned, wondering what else she could be. And as the sun came up red through the window, she sat up. 'Ha! Can't I make the sun and the moon rise? Husband! Wake up! Go to the flounder. I want to be like God.'

The fisherman was so terrified that he fell out of bed. 'Wife! What did you say?' 'If I can't make the sun and the moon rise, I can't stand it. I won't have another happy hour. Go!' And she kicked him, and screamed, 'I want MORE!'

So he pulled on his trousers and ran out of the door like a madman. And outside, a storm was raging so hard he could barely stand. Houses and trees were blowing over. The mountains shook, and rocks rolled down into the SEA. And the sea came in waves as high as church towers and mountains, all with white foam on top. And the fisherman screamed, and he couldn't even hear his own words:

'Flounder, flounder, in the sea, come, I pray thee, up to me. For my wife, good Ilsebill, wills not as I'd have her will.'

'Well,' said the FLOUNDER. 'What does she want now?' 'Oh,' he said, 'she wants to be like God.'

'Go home,' said the flounder. 'She's sitting in her chamber pot again.'

And there they are still, sitting there, to this very day.