The next morning, when the two girls arose, milk to wash in and wine to drink were set for the man’s daughter, but only water, both for washing and drinking, for the woman’s daughter. The second morning, water for washing and drinking stood before both the man’s daughter and the woman’s; and on the third morning, water to wash in and water to drink were set before the man’s daughter, and milk to wash in and wine to drink before the woman’s daughter, and so it continued.
Soon the woman had a deadly hatred of her step-daughter, and knew not how to behave badly enough to her, from day to day. She was envious, too, because her step-daughter was beautiful and lovely, and her own daughter was ugly and hateful.
Once, in the winter time, when water had frozen as hard as a stone, and hill and valley were covered with snow, the woman made a cloak of paper, and called the maiden to her and said, “Put on this cloak, and go away into the wood to fetch me a little basketful of strawberries, for I have a wish for some.”
“Mercy on us!” said the maiden, “in winter there are no strawberries growing; the ground is frozen, and the snow, too, has covered up every thing. And why must I go in that paper cloak? It is so cold out of doors that it freezes one’s breath even, and the wind will blow it off, and the thorns will tear it from my body.”
“Will you dare to contradict me?” said the step-mother. “Make haste off, and let me not see you again until you have found me a basket of strawberries.” Then she gave her a small piece of dry bread, saying, “On that you must subsist the whole day.” But she thought—out of doors she will be frozen and starved, so that my eyes will never see her again!
So the girl did as she was told, and put on the paper cloak, and went away with the basket. Far and near there was nothing but snow, and not a green blade was to be seen. When she came to the forest she discovered a little cottage, out of which three little Dwarfs were peeping. The girl wished them good-morning, and knocked gently at the door. They called her in, and, entering the room, she sat down on a bench by the fire to warm herself, and eat her breakfast. The Dwarfs called out, “Give us some of it?” “Willingly,” she replied, and dividing her bread in two, she gave them half. They asked, “What do you here in the forest, in the winter time, in this thin cloak?”
“Ah!” she answered, “I must seek a basketful of strawberries, and I dare not return home until I can take them with me.” When she had eaten her bread, they gave her a broom, saying, “Sweep away the snow with this from the back door.” But when she was gone out of doors the three Dwarfs said to one another, “What shall we give her, because she is so gentle and good, and has shared her bread with us?” Then said the first, “I grant to her that she shall become more beautiful every day.” The second said, “I grant that a piece of gold shall fall out of her mouth for every word she speaks.” The third said, “I grant that a King shall come and make her his bride.”
Meanwhile, the girl had done as the Dwarfs had bidden her, and had swept away the snow from behind the house. And what do you think she found there? Actually, ripe strawberries! which came quite red and sweet up under the snow. So, filling her basket in great glee, she thanked the little men and gave them each her hand, and then ran home to take her stepmother what she wished for. As she went in and said, “Good-evening,” a piece of gold fell from her mouth. Thereupon she related what had happened to her in the forest; but at every word she spoke a piece of gold fell, so that the whole floor was covered.
“Just see her arrogance,” said the step-sister, “to throw away money in that way!” but in her heart she was jealous, and wished to go into the forest too, to seek strawberries. Her mother said, “No, my dear daughter; it is too cold, you will be frozen!” but as her girl let her have no peace, she at last consented, and made her a beautiful fur cloak to put on; she also gave her buttered bread and cooked meat to eat on the way.
The girl went into the forest and came straight to the little cottage. The three Dwarfs were peeping out again, but she did not greet them; and, stumbling on without looking at them or speaking, she entered the room, and, seating herself by the fire, began to eat the bread and butter and meat. “Give us some of that,” exclaimed the Dwarfs; but she answered, “I have not got enough for myself, so how can I give any away?” When she had finished they said, “You have a broom there, go and sweep the back door clean.” “Oh, sweep it yourself,” she replied, “I am not your servant.” When she saw that they would not give her any thing she went out at the door, and the three Dwarfs said to each other, “What shall we give her? she is so ill-behaved, and has such a bad and envious disposition, that nobody can wish well to her.” The first said, “I grant that she becomes more ugly every day.” The second said, “I grant that every word she speaks a toad shall spring out of her mouth.” The third said, “I grant that she shall die a miserable death.” Meanwhile the girl had been looking for strawberries out of doors, but as she could find none she went home very peevish. When she opened her mouth to tell her mother what had happened to her in the forest, a toad jumped out of her mouth at each word, so that every one fled away from her in horror.
The stepmother was now still more vexed, and was always thinking how she could do the most harm to her husband’s daughter, who every day became more beautiful. At last she took a kettle, set it on the fire, and boiled a net therein. When it was sodden she hung in on the shoulder of the poor girl, and gave her an axe, that she might go upon the frozen pond and cut a hole in the ice to drag the net. She obeyed, and went away and cut an ice-hole; and while she was cutting, an elegant carriage came by, in which the King sat. The carriage stopped, and the King asked, “My child, who are you? and what do you here?” “I am a poor girl, and am dragging a net,” said she. Then the King pitied her, and saw how beautiful she was, and said, “Will you go with me.” “Yes, indeed, with all my heart,” she replied, for she was glad to get out of the sight of her mother and sister.
So she was handed into the carriage, and driven away with the King; and as soon as they arrived at his castle the wedding was celebrated with great splendour, as the Dwarfs had granted to the maiden. After a year the young Queen bore a son; and when the stepmother heard of her great good fortune, she came to the castle with her daughter, and behaved as if she had come on a visit. But one day, when the King had gone out, and no one was present, this bad woman seized the Queen by the head, and her daughter caught hold of her feet, and, raising her out of bed, they threw her out of the window into the river which ran past. Then, laying her ugly daughter in the bed, the old woman covered her up, even over her head; and when the King came back he wished to speak to his wife, but the old woman exclaimed, “Softly, softly! do not go near her; she is lying in a beautiful sleep, and must be kept quiet to-day.” The King, not thinking of any evil design, came again the next morning the first thing; and when he spoke to his wife, and she answered, a toad sprang out of her mouth at every word, as before a piece of gold had done. So he asked what had happened, and the old woman said, “That is produced by her weakness, she will soon lose it again.”
But in the night the kitchen-boy saw a duck swimming through the brook, and the duck said,
King, King, what are you doing!
Are you sleeping, or are you waking!
And as he gave no answer, the duck said,
What are my guests a-doing!
Then the boy answered,
They all sleep sound.
And she asked him,
How fares my child!
And he replied,
In his cradle he sleeps.
Then she came up in the form of the Queen to the cradle, and gave the child drink, shook up his bed, and covered him up, and then swam again away as a duck through the brook. The second night she came again, and on the third she said to the kitchen-boy, “Go and tell the King to take his sword, and swing it thrice over me, on the threshold.” Then the boy ran and told the King, who came with his sword, and swung it thrice over the duck; and at the third time his bride stood befor
e him, bright, living, and healthful, as she had been before.
Now the King was in great happiness, but he hid the Queen in a chamber until the Sunday when the child was to be christened; and when all was finished he asked, “What ought to be done to one who takes another out of bed and throws her into the river?” “Nothing could be more proper,” said the old woman, “than to put such an one into a cask, stuck round with nails, and to roll it down the hill into the water.” Then the King said, “You have spoken your own sentence;” and, ordering a cask to be fetched, he caused the old woman and her daughter to be put into it, and the bottom being nailed up, the cask was rolled down the hill until it fell into the water.
The Three Spinsters
There was once a lazy girl who would not spin, and let her mother say what she would she could not get her to work. At last the mother, getting both angry and impatient, gave her a blow, which made the girl cry very loud; just then the Queen, passing by, heard the noise, and, stopping the carriage, she stepped into the house, and asked the mother why she beat her daughter in such a way that the passers-by in the street heard her shrieks. The mother, however, was ashamed that her daughter’s laziness should be known, and said, “I cannot make her leave off spinning; she will spin for ever and ever, and I am so poor that I cannot procure the flax.” The Queen replied, “I never heard any thing I like better than spinning, and I am never more pleased than when the wheels are whirring. Let your daughter go with me to the castle; I have flax enough, and she may spin as much as she pleases.” The mother was very glad at heart, and the Queen took the girl home with her. As soon as they entered the castle she led her up into three rooms, which were all full of the finest flax from top to bottom. “Now, spin this flax for me,” said the Queen, “and, when you have prepared it all, you shall have my eldest son for a husband. Although you are poor, I do not despise you on that account; your unwearied industry is dowry enough.” The girl, however, was inwardly frightened, for she could not have spun the flax had she sat there from morning till night until she was three hundred years old. When she was left alone she began to cry, and thus she sat three days without stirring a hand. On the third day the Queen came, and when she saw that nothing was yet spun she wondered, and the maiden excused herself by saying that she had not been able to begin yet, on account of her great sorrow at leaving her mother’s house. So the Queen was satisfied; but on leaving she said, “You must begin to work for me to-morrow.”
As soon as the girl was again alone she knew not how to act or help herself, and in her vexation she went and looked out of the window. She saw three women passing by, the first of whom had a broad flat foot, the second such a large under-lip that it reached nearly to her chin, and the third a very big thumb. They stopped before the window, and looking up asked the girl what she wanted. She told them her trouble, and they offered her their help, saying, “Will you invite us to the wedding, and not be ashamed of us, but call us your aunts, and let us sit at your table? If you do all these, we will spin the flax in a very short time for you.”
“With all my heart,” replied the girl; “come in and begin at once.” Then she let in these three women, and, making a clear place in the first room, they sat themselves down and began spinning. One drew the thread and trod the wheel, the other moistened the thread, and the third pressed it and beat with her fingers on the table; and as often as she did so a pile of thread fell on the ground, which was spun in the finest manner. The girl hid the three spinsters, however, from the Queen, and showed her, as often as she came, the heaps of spun yarn; so that she received no end of praise. When the first room was empty the three women went to the second, and at length to the third, so that soon all was cleared out. Now the three spinsters took leave, saying to the girl, “Do not forget what you promised us; it will make your fortune.”
When the girl showed the Queen the empty rooms and the great pile of thread, the wedding was performed, and the bridegroom was glad that he had such a clever and industrious wife, and praised her exceedingly.
“I have three aunts,” said the girl, “who have done me much service; so I would not willingly forget them in my good fortune. Allow me, therefore, to invite them to the wedding, and sit with me at table.” The Queen and the bridegroom asked, “Why should we not allow it?”
When the feast was begun the three old maids entered in great splendour, and the bride said, “You are welcome dear aunts.”
“Ah,” said the bridegroom, “how do you come by such ugly friends?” and, going up to the one with the big foot, he asked, “Why have you such a broad foot?”—“From treading, from treading,” she replied. Then he went to the second and asked, “Why have you such an overhanging lip?”—“From licking,” she answered, “from licking.” Then he asked the third, “Why have you such a broad thumb?”—“From pressing the thread,” she replied, “from pressing the thread.” At this the Prince was frightened, and said, “Therefore my bride shall never touch a spinning-wheel again.”
And so she was set free from the unlucky flax-spinning.
Hansel and Grethel2
Once upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called Hansel, and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or bite, and once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could not procure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one evening, rolling about for trouble, he sighed, and said to his wife, “What will become of us? How can we feed our children when we have no more than we can eat ourselves?”
“Know, then, my husband,” answered she, “we will lead them away quite early in the morning into the thickest part of the wood, and there make them a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread; then we will go to our work and leave them alone, so they will not find the way home again and we shall be freed from them.” “No, wife,” replied he, “that I can never do; how can you bring your heart to leave my children all alone in the wood, for the wild beasts will soon come and tear them to pieces?”
“Oh, you simpleton!” said she, “then we must all four die of hunger; you had better plane the coffins for us.” But she left him no peace till he consented, saying, “Ah, but I shall regret the poor children.”
The two children, however, had not gone to sleep for very hunger, and so they overheard what the stepmother said to their father. Grethel wept bitterly, and said to Hansel, “What will become of us?” “Be quiet, Grethel,” said he; “do not cry, I will soon help you.” And as soon as their parents had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his coat, and, unbarring the back-door, slipped out. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay before the door seemed like silver pieces, they glittered so brightly. Hansel stooped down, and put as many into his pocket as it would hold, and then going back he said to Grethel, “Be comforted, dear sister, and sleep in peace; God will not forsake us;” and so saying he went to bed again.
Hansel and Grethel
The next morning, before the sun arose, the wife went and awoke the two children. “Get up, you lazy things; we are going into the forest to chop wood.” Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, “There is something for your dinner; do not eat it before the time, for you will get nothing else.” Grethel took the bread in her apron, for Hansel’s pocket was full of pebbles; and so they all set out upon their way. When they had gone a little distance Hansel stood still, and peeped back at the house; and this he repeated several times, till his father said, “Hansel, what are you peeping at, and why do you lag behind? Take care, and remember your legs.”
“Ah! father,” said Hansel, “I am looking at my white cat sitting upon the roof of the house, and trying to say good-bye.” “You simpleton!” said the wife, “that is not a cat; it is only the sun shining on the white chimney.” But in reality Hansel was not looking at a cat; but every time he stopped he dropped a pebble out of his pocket upon the path.
When they came to the middle of the wood the father tol
d the children to collect wood, and he would make them a fire, so that they should not be cold; so Hansel and Grethel gathered together quite a little mountain of twigs. Then they set fire to them, and as the flame burnt up high the wife said, “Now, you children, lie down near the fire and rest yourselves, whilst we go into the forest and chop wood; when we are ready, I will come and call you.”
Hansel and Grethel sat down by the fire, and when it was noon each ate the piece of bread, and, because they could hear the blows of an axe, they thought their father was near; but it was not an axe, but a branch which he had bound to a withered tree, so as to be blown to and fro by the wind. They waited so long that at last their eyes closed from weariness, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke it was quite dark, and Grethel began to cry; “How shall we get out of the wood?” But Hansel tried to comfort her by saying, “Wait a little while till the moon rises, and then we will quickly find the way.” The moon soon shone forth, and Hansel, taking his sister’s hand, followed the pebbles, which glittered like new-coined silver pieces, and showed them the path. All night long they walked on, and as day broke they came to their father’s house. They knocked at the door, and when the wife opened it, and saw Hansel and Grethel, she exclaimed, “You wicked children! Why did you sleep so long in the wood? We thought you were never coming home again.” But their father was very glad, for it had grieved his heart to leave them all alone.
Not long afterwards there was again great scarcity in every corner of the land; and one night the children overheard their mother saying to their father, “Every thing is again consumed; we have only half a loaf left, and then the song is ended: the children must be sent away. We will take them deeper into the wood, so that they may not find the way out again; it is the only means of escape for us.”
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 9