Tom Tit Tot

Tom Tit Tot

Once upon a time, a mother and daughter lived in a little English village. The daughter was kind and cheerful, but sometimes she acted first and thought afterward.

One morning, her mother baked five pies. She left them in the oven a little too long, and their crusts grew hard.

“Put the pies on the shelf,” she said to her daughter. “Let them stand for a while. Then they will become soft again.”

The girl heard only the word ‘again’ and imagined that the pies would somehow come back.

“If they are going to come back anyway, why wait?”

And she ate one pie.

Then the second.

Then she thought that the three pies on the shelf looked somewhat lonely, and ate the third.

And then the fourth and fifth did not stay there for long.

In the evening, the mother said:

“Bring one pie for tea.”

The daughter went to the shelf, looked at the empty plates, and came back.

“They haven’t come back yet,” she said.

“Who hasn’t come back?”

“The pies.”

At first, her mother could not understand. When she did, she was too astonished even to be angry.

She sat down by the door with her spinning wheel and began to spin. And to calm herself down, she hummed under her breath:

“My daughter ate five pies today,

Five whole pies in a single day…”

Just at that time, the king was driving past their house. He heard a song, but he couldn’t make out the words.

“What are you singing?” he asked.

The mother suddenly felt embarrassed to tell a stranger, even a king, about the five missing pies. And she quickly changed her words:

“My daughter spun five skeins today,

Five fine skeins in a single day!”

The king stopped his horse.

“Five skeins in one day? What a skillful spinner!”

The palace needed skilled spinners for its winter work, so the king invited the girl to try for a place.

“If you can truly spin that fast,” he said, “you will receive flax every day for a month. By evening, there must be five finished skeins. If you succeed, you will have an honored place among our craftspeople. If not, no harm done—you will simply go home.”

The girl turned pale.

Five skeins a day were quite beyond her. She could barely draw out an even thread.

But the mother had already said:

“Of course, she will manage!”

And the next morning the girl was brought to a bright room, where there was a spinning wheel, a chair and a large basket of flax.

“Five skeins by evening,” the palace steward reminded her before closing the door.

The girl looked at the flax.

The flax seemed to look at her.

She sat down on the chair.

“Now I really am in trouble,” she whispered.

Then came a soft tapping on the lower windowpane.

Knock-knock-knock.

At the window stood a strange little creature, no bigger than a basket, wearing a pointed hat. He had a long, thin tail and very lively eyes.

“Why are you so sad?” the creature asked.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Unlikely.”

“Tell me first.”

The girl sighed and told everything: about the pies, and about her mother's song, and about the king, and about the five skeins that she couldn't spin.

The little creature smiled.

"I can take the flax every morning, and bring five finished skeins every evening."

"And what will you ask in return?"

The creature narrowed its eyes.

"Every evening you will have three attempts to guess my name. If you don't guess by the end of the month, you will help me in my workshop in the forest for a whole year."

The girl thought it over. There were thousands of names in the world—but she had a whole month.

"Agreed."

“Agreed,” he repeated, twirling his tail until it looked like a little wheel.

On the first evening it brought five wonderful skeins.

“Well? What is my name?”

“Bill?”

“No.”

“Ned?”

“No.”

“Mark?”

“No again!”

The creature laughed and disappeared out the window.

The next day it happened again. In the morning it took the flax. In the evening it brought the skeins.

“Jack?”

“No.”

“Robin?”

“No.”

“Hugh?”

“No!”

The girl began to make a long list of names. She asked the cooks, the grooms, the gardeners, the market vendors, and even the children who came to the palace gates.

“What is the strangest name you have ever heard?”

They suggested Alfred, Bartholomew, Crispin, Percival, Nicholas, Solomon, and so many more names that she filled an entire notebook.

But every evening the answer was the same:

“No. No. And again no.”

Day after day passed.

At first, her little helper arrived cheerfully. As the days passed, his smile grew slyer. With only two days left, he spun his tail so fast that he seemed to be celebrating victory already.

“Come along,” he said. “Three guesses.”

“Nicodemus?”

“No.”

“Samuel?”

“No.”

“Methuselah?”

The creature giggled.

“No! Tomorrow is the last evening.”

He vanished, leaving the girl at the window in despair.

That same day the king was riding through the forest and returning to the palace along an unfamiliar path. Near the old chalk pit he heard a strange sound:

Whirr, whirr… rrrr…

It was as if a small spinning wheel was spinning wildly somewhere below.

The king dismounted, quietly approached and peered behind the bushes.

There sat the same little creature, spinning so fast that the wheel became a blur. He twirled his tail and sang:

“Nimi-nimi-not,

I am Tom Tit Tot!

Nimi-nimi-not,

I am Tom Tit Tot!”

The king listened, smiled and rode on.

In the evening he went into the room where the girl was folding the finished skeins.

“I saw something wonderful today,” he said. “A little spinner sat in the forest singing the funniest song.”

“What song?” the girl asked quickly.

The King repeated:

“Nimi-nimi-not, I am Tom Tit Tot.”

The girl almost jumped out of her chair, but she checked herself in time.

“How amusing,” she said as calmly as she could.

The last evening had come.

Knock-knock-knock!

The window opened, and the little creature jumped in. This time it was radiant with confidence.

“Your last three guesses!” he cried. “Now, what is my name?”

The girl pretended to be very worried.

“Maybe... Solomon?”

“No!”

The tail spun faster.

“Then... Zebedee?”

“No-no-no!”

The creature was already dancing.

“One guess left! Just one!”

The girl stepped back, looked at him, and suddenly smiled.

“Nimi-nimi-not… Your name is Tom Tit Tot!”

The room became so quiet that you could hear the leaves rustling outside the window.

Tom Tit Tot froze.

The tail stopped spinning.

“Who told you?” he squeaked.

“That’s my secret,” the girl replied.

The little spinner stamped his foot, picked up his tiny spinning wheel, and jumped out the window.

“Nimi-nimi-not! Next time I’ll sing more softly!”

And disappeared into the darkness.

From then on, the girl never accepted work she could not do merely because someone had praised her. Her mother remembered that even a little false boast could grow into a great deal of trouble.

The king learned something too. He stopped setting impossible tests and began asking people what they could do and what they wished to learn.

And the girl did learn to spin. Not five skeins a day, or even two.

At first, she managed just one smooth, even thread.

But with her own hands.

And every time the spinning wheel began to hum softly:

Whirr, whirr…

she smiled and remembered:

“Nimi-nimi-not,

I am Tom Tit Tot!”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨