the ogre, the tailor, and the minstrel

once upon a time there was an ogre. the ogre set up shop outside a village, and began systematically kidnapping and devouring its inhabitants, one by one. the strongest men in the village, including the woodcutter, the blacksmith, the sheriff, and the sergeant-at-arms, sallied forth to fight the ogre, but were quickly despatched and devoured. a little tailor resolved to defeat the ogre. he found a stout stick and attached his tailor’s needle to it, and announced his intention to the village. most of the villagers laughed at the tailor, although a few pious old woman told him they would pray for him. as the sun rose in the sky, the little tailor set forth with his weapon. what the tailor did not suspect, and what the villagers did not suspect, was that the ogre had grown weary of the village, and had decided that very morning to move on to fresh pastures. the ogre was in the act of packing his knapsack with some of the bones of his previous victims, to gnaw on in his journey, when he saw the tailor approach. the ogre made short work of the little tailor and devoured him in one gulp. but the ogre was so outraged by the effrontery of the village in sending so feeble a champion against him, that he entered the village and completely ravaged and destroyed it, killing almost everyone in it. the only survivor was a minstrel, who took to the roads, where he eked out an existence begging and singing for his bread. among the songs the minstrel sang was the tale of the heroic little tailor, and how he slew the ogre and saved the village.