HANSEL AND GRETTEL
Once upon a time, a woodcutter lived with his wife at the edge of a forest. The man had two children: his son was called Hansel, and his daughter’s name was Grettel. The woodcutter never had much money, but one year there was a terrible famine, and he couldn’t afford even a loaf of bread.
One night he was so worried that he couldn’t fall asleep, and he said to his wife, “I just don’t know what to do anymore! We haven’t any food to feed ourselves, let alone the children!”
“I have an idea,” said his wife. “Tomorrow, when we go to work, we’ll take the children along. We’ll go to the very thickest part of the forest. Then we’ll build them a nice big fire, and give them each a piece of bread, and tell them to wait until we return. Then, we’ll simply leave them in the forest! They’ll never be able to find their own way home, and we’ll never have to feed them ever again!”
“No!” cried the husband. “I can’t do that! I would never leave my children alone in the forest to be killed and eaten by animals!”
“Then you’re a fool!” shouted the wife. “There’s not enough food for the four of us! For goodness’ sake, husband, face the facts! We can’t go on like this! If we don’t get rid of the children, the next wood you chop will be the wood for our coffins!” And she lashed out again and again until he gave in. “I still feel sorry for the children,” he said sullenly.
Hunger had kept the children awake that night as well, and they overheard what their stepmother said to their father. Grettel began to sob, and just before she burst into tears, she said, “Well, that’s the end of us, isn’t it, Hansel.” But Hansel said, “Don’t worry, Grettel. I’ll find a way out of this.”
Hansel waited in bed until the adults were asleep. Then he put on his jacket, crept to the kitchen door, and slipped outside. He tiptoed round to the front of the house, where his parents kept a rock garden. The moon was bright, and the little white pebbles were gleaming like silver coins. Hansel stuffed his pockets with pebbles, and then went in to reassure his sister. “We’ll be all right tomorrow, Grettel,” he said. “Just wait and see.”
The day was still dark when the stepmother roused the children from their beds. “Up you get, sleepyheads! We’re off to the forest to fetch some wood.” Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, “I’d save this for lunch if I were you. It’s all you’re getting today!” Grettel tucked both pieces of bread under her cloak. Hansel couldn’t carry his because his pockets were full of pebbles. Then the father joined them and they set out for the forest.
They hadn’t gone far when Hansel turned around and stared in the direction of the house. A minute later he did the same thing. When he did it a third time, his father said, “Hansel, what on earth are you looking at back there? You’re slowing us all down.”
“It’s my little white kitten,” said Hansel. “It’s sitting on the roof waving goodbye.”
His stepmother snorted. “You’re a fool!” she said. “That’s not a cat! That’s just the sun shining on the chimney.”
But Hansel had only been pretending he could see his kitten. He had been turning his back so that neither his father nor his stepmother would see him take a pebble from his pocket and drop it on the path.
After a while, the path ended and only the woodcutter knew the way. A while after that, the trees were so close together, and the undergrowth so wild, that walking became very hard for the children. As soon as they reached the next clearing, the father said, “Now, children, run and fetch some kindling, so I can light a fire to keep you warm.”
Hansel and Grettel began to collect brushwood and pile it up. When they finished, the pile was taller than they were. Their father lit the fire, and their stepmother said, “Lie down by the fire now, children. Have a rest and keep warm. Your father and I have work to do. When we’re finished, we’ll come back to get you.” And then she and her husband walked off into the woods.
But they didn’t cut any wood. The father tied a big, broken branch to the trunk of a tree. It was windy that day, so the wind hurled the branch this way and that, and when it slapped against the tree, it made a cracking sound like the sound of an axe. Hoping this would fool the children, the father and his wife hurried home.
Meanwhile, Hansel and Grettel sat by the fire. They sat there all morning, just waiting and waiting some more. At noon, they ate their bread. Then they waited all afternoon, listening to the sound of the branch hitting the tree, thinking their father was nearby. At long last, they were so tired they fell asleep.
When they woke up, it was pitch black in the forest. Grettel cried a little, and said, “Hansel, how are we going to get home?”
Hansel took hold of her hand and squeezed it. “Just wait until the moon comes up,” he said. “Then we’ll have no problem getting home.”
It happened that the moon was full that night, and when it rose, Hansel took his sister’s hand and said, “Look, Grettel!” The white pebbles that Hansel had dropped were gleaming in the moonlight like silver coins and formed a chain that would lead them safely back through the forest and all the way home. They followed the trail of pebbles all night long, and at daybreak finally reached their father’s house. When they knocked on the door, their stepmother answered.
“Well, look who’s here!” cried the stepmother. “The little brats are back from playing in the forest. Do you have any idea how worried we were?”
The father said nothing, though his heart was more than happy to see them back. He felt terrible that he had abandoned his children in the forest.
Not long afterwards another famine came, and the stepmother again wanted to rid herself of the children. “There’s no food in the house except for half a loaf of bread, and when that’s gone, we’re done for. The children have to go! This time, we’ll do the job properly: we’ll leave them so deep in the woods that they’ll never be able to find their way back home.”
The father’s heart wept to hear these words, and he said, “Will the food not taste better if we share it with the children than if we keep it all for ourselves?” But his wife was full of scorn and wouldn’t hear his arguments. “This is what you said the last time,” she said. “And the last time, you left them to die in the forest. For goodness’ sake, husband, face the facts!”
Hansel and Grettel were in bed, but they were wide awake, and they heard every word of this conversation. As before, Hansel waited until the adults were asleep. Then he put on his jacket, and crept to the kitchen door–but his stepmother had locked it, and he couldn’t slip out to gather up the pebbles! But he comforted his little sister, and said, “Don’t worry, Grettel. We’ll find a way out of this.”
It was still completely dark when the stepmother pulled the children from their beds. They were given some bread, but the pieces were much smaller than they had been the last time. On their way into the forest, Hansel crumbled his bread in his pocket, and every minute or so he turned around and stared back in the direction of the house, so he could drop a crumb on the ground without being seen. His father said, “Hansel, what on earth are you looking at back there? You’re slowing us all down.”
“It’s my little pigeon,” said Hansel. “It’s sitting on the roof waving goodbye.”
His stepmother snorted. “You’re a fool!” she said. “That’s not a pigeon! That’s just the sun shining on the chimney.”
But Hansel managed to leave a trail of breadcrumbs that he and Grettel could follow home that night.
They went deeper into the forest than the children had ever been before. Finally they stopped, and the stepmother lit a fire, and said, “Now, children, just sit down here by the fire. If you’re tired, have a little sleep. Your father and I have work to do. When we’re finished, we’ll come back to get you.”
At noon, Grettel shared her bread with Hansel, who had used his piece to make the trail of breadcrumbs. Then the children fell asleep, and they didn’t wake up until nigh
t had come to the forest and all was black.
“Hansel, how are we going to get home?” asked Grettel.
Hansel squeezed her hand. “Just wait until the moon comes up. Then we’ll be able to see the trail of breadcrumbs I dropped along the way, and we won’t have any problem getting home.”
When the moon rose, Hansel and Grettel looked hard for the crumbs, but they couldn’t see even a single one. The birds that lived in the forest had eaten them all!
“Don’t worry, Grettel. We’ll find a way out of here,” said Hansel. But they walked the whole night long in the dark, and they found no way out. They walked the next day from morning till night, but they found no escape from the forest. As well, they were growing hungrier by the hour, for they had eaten nothing but the berries they’d found on the path. At last their legs would carry them no further, and they lay down under a tree and fell asleep.
The next morning was the third since they had left their father’s house. They set out again through the forest, but no matter where they turned, the trees grew close together and the undergrowth made walking very hard. They felt that if they were not rescued soon, they would die of hunger.
At noon, the children sat down to rest. Suddenly, they heard a bird singing so musically that they stopped to listen. The singer was a beautiful snow-white bird that was perched on a nearby branch. When its song was finished, it flew off in front of them, and the children decided to follow it. Soon the bird guided them to a clearing, and there they saw the strangest little cottage they had ever seen in their lives.
The walls of the cottage were made of bread. Instead of its roof being covered with shingles, this roof was covered with pastries and cupcakes and brownies and squares. The cottage’s windows were made out of icing sugar. “Do you think it’s real?” asked Hansel. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. I’m going to have some of the roof. You take some of the window, Grettel. It looks as sweet as the roof and will be easier for you to reach.” So saying, he stretched up and broke off a piece of the roof, while Grettel eagerly smashed one of the windows. No sooner had they done this than they heard a shrill voice calling from inside the house.
Nibble, nibble, little mouse
Who’s that nibbling on my house?
The children answered:
The broken roof and the shattered pane
Are both the work of the wind and the rain!
The children were so hungry that they thought their little song would fool whoever was in the cottage. Hansel ripped another cake from the roof, while Grettel grabbed a piece of window the size of a dinner plate, and then sat down in order to do it justice. Suddenly the cottage door flew open, and a very old woman hobbled out. Hansel and Grettel were so frightened that the food dropped from their hands. But the old woman shook her head and cackled, “Well, well, well, it’s two little children. What was it that brought you here, I wonder. Just come inside and I’ll fix you some dinner. You’ve got nothing to fear, nothing to fear.”
The old woman took both children firmly by the hand and led them into the cottage, where she fed them sugared pancakes with apples and nuts, and gave them each a glass of milk to drink. After they had eaten their fill, she made their beds with fresh white sheets, and when she tucked them in, they felt as though they’d gone straight to heaven.
But the old woman was not as she seemed. In fact, she was old witch who enjoyed eating people of all kinds, but who found young children especially tender and juicy. Whenever she had someone in her clutches, she declared the day a holiday, and devoted herself to killing, cooking, and eating her hapless victim. Now witches have red eyes and can’t see very far, but their sense of smell is sharper than a dog’s. The witch had known for two whole days that Hansel and Grettel were in the forest, and when they strayed too close to her, she laughed and wickedly cried out, “They’re mine! They’re mine! They’ll never get away now!” Then she set a trap for them by building the little bread cottage.
The following day, the witch was busy long before the children were awake. She crept up to their beds, and gazed lovingly at their parted mouths and silky cheeks. Then she smacked her lips, and in a hushed and humble voice, as though there were no nicer words in the entire language, she said, “Fresh boy!”
“What a treat!” she added, as she seized Hansel in her bony hands and carried him out to a small stable, where she threw him to the ground and locked him up. Scream as he might, there was nothing he could do. Then the witch went back to the cottage and shook Grettel by the shoulders until she woke up. “Get up, you little slouch!” cried the witch. “Make some breakfast for your brother. We’ve got to fatten him up. I do love children, but I love them so much more when they’re fat!” Grettel was terrified and began to cry, but it was no use. She had no choice but to obey the witch.
Hansel got all the best food because he was the one being fattened. Grettel got only crab shells. Every morning the witch hobbled out to the stable, and said in a wheedling voice, “Hansel? Stick out your finger, boy. Let’s see how fat you’re getting!” But instead of stretching out his finger, Hansel always stretched out a little bone he had found in the stable. This puzzled the witch, who wondered why he was fattening so slowly.
After four weeks had passed and Hansel’s bone had grown no fatter, the witch finally lost her patience and decided she had waited long enough. “Grettel?” she called. “Grettel? Fetch some water in this pot and put it by the fire. If that brother of yours has fattened nicely, then so much the better for the stew. If he’s still thin, it doesn’t matter: I’ll just add butter to the sauce. Either way, tomorrow he goes in the pot!”
Grettel was beside herself, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Heaven help us now!” she cried. “If we’d been killed by the beasts in the forest, at least we would have died together.” The witch glared at her. “Well, that’s not going to happen now, is it! So just calm down and clamp your lips, little girl!”
The next day, the witch told Grettel to hang the pot over the hearth and light the fire. Then she said, “While we’re waiting for the water to boil, we’ll bake some bread. I lit the oven an hour ago, and the dough has risen nicely.” She nudged Grettel towards the oven with her elbows. “Just poke your head in,” she said. “See if the temperature’s right.”
But Grettel said, “I’ve never made bread before in my life, and I don’t know what temperature is right! You wouldn’t want the bread to spoil, would you? I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you teach me? Poke your head in the oven, and when the temperature’s right, call me and let me feel it with my own head.”
“What do they teach girls these days?” said the witch, as she got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards the oven. “Now, let’s see,” she said, as she poked her head inside. “Aha!” cried Grettel, as she thrust the witch through the door, slammed the door shut, and locked it tight. Then she ran outside, ignoring the piercing shrieks of the burning witch.
Grettel ran straight to Hansel’s stable and quickly unlocked the door. “Hansel,” she cried. “Hansel, we’re free! The old witch is dead!” Then she threw open the door, and Hansel sprang out the way a bird springs out of its cage when the door is opened. Then he dashed into the clearing and ran wildly around in circles, hooting at the sky in joy. Then he ran back to his sister and grabbed her hands and swung her around until they both collapsed on the ground in a heap, giddy with relief.
The children now had nothing to fear, and so they went back into the witch’s cottage. In every corner of the room, they found boxes of pearls and precious stones. “These are certainly better than pebbles!” said Hansel, as he crammed his pockets full. “There is plenty of room in my cloak, as well,” said Grettel. When she had finished packing her pearls away, Hansel said, “Let’s go. I know she’s dead, but I’ll be much happier when we’re out of the witch’s forest.”
After a few hours, Hansel and Grettel came to a big lake. “
We can’t get across,” said Hansel. “I can’t see a bridge in either direction.” “There aren’t any boats, either,” said Grettel. “But look! There’s a lovely white duck. I’m sure it will help us across if I ask it nicely.” So Grettel sang this rhyme:
Little duck, little duck, could you please lend a hand,
And take us across the lake to dry land?
There isn’t a bridge, or a boat anywhere,
We can’t walk on water or fly through the air,
And we can’t swim across, as the lake is too wide,
Little duck, little duck, please give us a ride!
The duck swam up and Hansel climbed on its back and motioned Grettel to join him. “No,” said Grettel. “Together we’ll be too heavy. We’ll go one at a time.” The kind little bird swam Hansel across the lake, and then came back for Grettel. When they were both safely across, they began their journey again, and the forest grew ever more familiar. At last they saw their father’s house in the distance. Then excitement overtook them, and they started to run, and they ran all the way home and burst through the door and threw their arms around their father’s neck. Since leaving his children in the forest, the woodcutter had spent his hours in grief and tears. Even though his wife had recently died, the return of the children restored the woodcutter’s spirits. Then, when both Hansel and Grettel emptied their pockets of pearls and precious stones, he knew that all their troubles were over at last. And the three of them lived happily ever after.
We hope that you have enjoyed reading these six Fairy Tales, edited by Laird Stevens. There are an additional 12 Fairy Tales available. You can either purchase the entire collection of 18, which includes the first 6 in this version. Or you can purchase the additional 12 stories in 2 sets of ebooks. These are Parts 2 and 3 containing 6 fairy tales each. Part 2 contains Little Red Riding Hood, The Master Maid, The Goose-Girl, Prince Hyacinth and the Adorable Princess, The Girl with Saffron Hair, and The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood. Part 3 contains Rumpelstiltzkin, The Tale of a Youth who set out to Learn what Fear was, Cinderella or the Little Glass Slipper, The Master Cat, or Puss in Boots, The White Cat, and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.
For other works by Laird Stevens, visit https://www.lairdstevens.com
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