Chapter V: Foreword (5)

When they had had enough, the woman said, “But, Husband, whence come all these riches?”

“Alas,” answered he, “do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you anything. If I disclose it to any one, then all our good fortune will fly.”

“Very good,” said she, “if I am not to know anything, then I do not want to know anything.”

However, she was not in earnest. She never rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful Gold Fish which he had caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty.

And as soon as the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately disappeared. They were once more in the old fisherman’s hut, and the man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish.

But fortune would so have it, that he once more drew out the Gold Fish. “Listen,” said the Fish, “if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled meats. Only be firm; for your life’s sake don’t reveal from whom you have it, or you will lose it all again!”

“I will take good care,” answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water.

Now at home, everything was once more in its former magnificence. The wife was overjoyed at their good fortune. But curiosity left her no peace, so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come to pass, and how he had managed to secure it.

The man kept silence for a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out and betrayed the secret. In an instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again in their old hut.

“Now you have got what you want,” said he; “and we can gnaw at a bare bone again.”

“Ah,” said the woman, “I had rather have no riches; if I am not to know from whom they come, then I have no peace.”

The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the Gold Fish for a third time.

“Listen,” said the Fish, “I see very well that I am fated to fall into your hands. Take me home and cut me into six pieces. Give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse, and bury two of them in the ground. Then they will bring you a blessing.”

The fisherman took the Fish home with him, and did as it had bidden him.

It came to pass that from the two pieces that were buried in the ground, two Golden Lilies sprang up; that the horse had two Golden Foals; and the fisherman’s wife bore two children who were made entirely of gold.

The children grew up, became tall and handsome, and the lilies and horses grew likewise.

Then the lads said, “Father, we want to mount our Golden Steeds and travel out in the world.”

But he answered sorrowfully, “How shall I bear it, if you go away and I know not how it fares with you?”

Then they said, “The two Golden Lilies remain here. By them you may see how it is with us. If they are fresh, then we are in health. If they are withered, we are ill. If they perish, then we are dead.”

So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were many people. They perceived the Gold-Children and began to laugh, and jeer.

When one of them heard the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a great forest.

As he was about to enter it, the people said, “It is not safe for you to ride through; the wood is full of robbers, who would treat you badly. You will fare ill. When they see that you are all of gold and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.”

But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, “I must and will ride through it.”

Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and his horse with them, so that the gold was not seen, and rode fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little, he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together.

From one side came cries of, “There is one!” but from the other, “Let him go! ’tis an idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse. What should we gain from him?”

So the Gold-Child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell him.

One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she existed in the world.

And as such a mighty love took possession of him, he went up to her and said, “I love you with my whole heart. Will you be my wife?”

He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and said, “Yes, I will be your wife, and be true to you your whole life long.”

They were married. Then just as they were in the greatest happiness, home came the father of the Bride. When he saw that his daughter’s wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said, “Where is the Bridegroom?”

They showed him the Gold-Child, who, however, still wore his bear-skins.

Then the father said wrathfully, “A vagabond shall never have my daughter!” and was about to kill him.

Then the Bride begged as hard as she could, and said, “He is my husband, and I love him with all my heart!” until at last he allowed himself to be appeased.

Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter’s husband was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground.

Then he went back, and thought, “What a good thing it was that I restrained my anger! I should have committed a great crime.”

But the Gold-Child dreamed that he rode out to the chase of a splendid stag, and when he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, “I must go out hunting.”

She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, “You might easily meet with a great misfortune.”

But he answered, “I must and will go.”

Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest. It was not long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling tired. In the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when the Gold-Child looked round him, he was standing before a little house, wherein was a Witch.

He knocked, and a little old woman came out and asked, “What are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest?”

“Have you not seen a stag?”

“Yes,” answered she, “I know the stag well,” and thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with her, barked at the man violently.

“Will you be silent, you odious toad,” said he, “or I will shoot you dead.”

Then the Witch cried out in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately she transformed him, so that he lay like a stone.

Meanwhile his Bride awaited him in vain, and thought, “That which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so heavily on my heart, has come upon him!”

But at home, the other brother was standing by the Gold-Lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. “Alas!” said he, “my brother has met with some great misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.”

Then he mounted his Golden Horse, and rode forth and entered the great forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old Witch came out of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also.

He did not go near her, but said, “I will shoot you, if you do not bring my brother to life again.”

She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, with her forefinger. Then he was immediately restored to his human shape.

The two Gold-Children rejoiced, when they saw each other again. They kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of the forest, the one home to his Bride, the other to his father.

The father then said, “I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for the Golden Lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again.”

Then they lived happily, and all prospered with them until their death.

LITTLE SNOW-WHITE

Once upon a time, in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a Queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black ebony.

And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, “Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window-frame.”

Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony. She was therefore called little Snow-White. And when the child was born, the Queen died.

After a year had passed the King took to himself another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that any one else should surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself in it, and said:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

the Looking-Glass answered:

“_Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!_”

Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the Looking-Glass spoke the truth.

But little Snow-White was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful. When she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more beautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her Looking-Glass:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

it answered:

“_Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen.
But more beautiful still is Snow-White, I ween._”

Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at little Snow-White, her heart heaved in her breast, she hated the maiden so much.

And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said, “Take the child away into the forest. I will no longer have her in my sight. Kill her.”

The huntsman obeyed, and took her away. But when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce little Snow-White’s innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, “Ah, dear Huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the wild forest, and never come home again.”

And as she was so beautiful, the huntsman had pity on her and said, “Run away, then, you poor child.” “The wild beasts will soon have devoured you,” thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her.

But now, the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so terrified that she looked at every leaf of every tree, and did not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm.

She ran as long as her feet would go, until it was almost evening. Then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself. Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon. Moreover, there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes.

Little Snow-White was so hungry and thirsty, that she ate some vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none of them suited her. One was too long, another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one was right, so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to sleep.

When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back. They were seven Dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit their seven candles, and, as it was now light within the cottage, they saw that some one had been there, for everything was not in the same order in which they had left it.

The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”

The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?”

The third, “Who has been taking some of my bread?”

The fourth, “Who has been eating my vegetables?”

The fifth, “Who has been using my fork?”

The sixth, “Who has been cutting with my knife?”

The seventh, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?”

Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole on his bed, and he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?”

The others came up and each called out, “Somebody has been lying in my bed too.”

But the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-White, who was lying fast asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the light fall on little Snow-White.

“Oh, oh!” cried they, “what a lovely child!” and they were so glad that they did not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the seventh Dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so got through the night.

The next morning, little Snow-White awoke, and was frightened when she saw the seven Dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her name was.

“My name is little Snow-White,” she answered.

“How have you come to our house?” said the Dwarfs.

Then she told them that the wicked Queen had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she had run for the whole day, until at last she had found their dwelling.

The Dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit, and if you will keep everything neat and clean, you may stay with us and you shall want for nothing.”

“Yes,” said little Snow-White, “with all my heart,” and she stayed with them.

She kept the house in order for them. In the mornings they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready.

The maiden was alone the whole day, so the good Dwarfs warned her and said, “Beware of the Queen, she will soon know that you are here. Be sure to let no one come in.”

But the Queen, believing that little Snow-White was dead, could not but think that she herself was again the first and most beautiful of all. She went to her Looking-Glass, and said:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

and the Glass answered:

“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell,
Little Snow-White is alive and well,
And none is so fair as she._”

Then she was astounded, for she knew that the Looking-Glass never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed her, for that little Snow-White was still alive.

And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so long as she herself was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like an old pedler-woman, and no one could have known her.

In this disguise she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried, “Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap!”

Little Snow-White looked out at the window, and called, “Good-day, my dear woman, what have you to sell?”

“Good things, pretty things,” she answered; “stay-laces of all colors,” and she pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored silk.

“I may let the worthy old woman in,” thought little Snow-White, and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces.

“Child,” said the old woman, “what a fright you look. Come, I will lace you properly for once.”

Little Snow-White had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman laced so quickly and laced so tightly that little Snow-White lost her breath and fell down as if dead.

“Now I am the most beautiful,” said the Queen to herself, and ran away.

Not long afterward, in the evening, the Seven Dwarfs came home. But how shocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-White lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces. Than she began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.

When the Dwarfs heard what had happened, they said, “The old pedler-woman was no one else than the wicked Queen. Take care and let no one come in when we are not with you.”

But the wicked woman, when she had reached home, went in front of the Glass and asked:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

and it answered as before:

“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell,
Little Snow-White is alive and well,
And none is so fair as she._”

When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for she saw plainly that little Snow-White was again alive. “But now,” she said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous comb.

Then she disguised herself, and took the shape of another old woman. So she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs, knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!”

Little Snow-White looked out, and said, “Go away. I cannot let any one come in.”

“I suppose you may look,” said the old woman, and pulled the poisonous comb out and held it up.

It pleased the maiden so well that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a bargain, the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.”

Poor little Snow-White had no suspicion, and let the Old Woman do as she pleased. But hardly had she put the comb in her hair, then the poison in it took effect, and the maiden fell down senseless.

“You paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now!” and she went away.

But fortunately it was almost evening, and the Seven Dwarfs came home. When they saw little Snow-White lying as if dead upon the ground, they at once suspected the Queen. They looked and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out, when little Snow-White came to herself, and told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard, and to open the door to no one.

The Queen, at home, went in front of the Glass and said:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

then it answered as before:

“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell,
Little Snow-White is alive and well,
And none is so fair as she._”

When she heard the Glass speak thus, she trembled and shook with rage. “Little Snow-White shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!”

Thereupon she went into a secret, lonely room, where no one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that every one who saw it longed for it. But whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.

When the apple was ready, she painted her face, and dressed herself as a countrywoman, and so she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Little Snow-White put her head out of the window and said, “I cannot let any one in. The Seven Dwarfs have forbidden me.”

“It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.”

“No,” said little Snow-White, “I dare not take anything.”

“Are you afraid of poison?” said the old woman. “Look, I will cut the apple in two pieces. You eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.”

The apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Little Snow-White longed for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman ate part of it, she could resist no longer, and stretched out her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth, than she fell down dead.

Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud, and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood! This time the Dwarfs cannot wake you up again!”

And when she asked of the Looking-Glass at home:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

it answered at last:

“_Oh, Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all._”

Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have rest.

The Dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found little Snow-White lying upon the ground. She breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was all of no use. The poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days long.

Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she was living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said, “We could not bury her in the dark ground,” and they had a transparent coffin of glass made, so that she might be seen from all sides. They laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she was a King’s Daughter.

Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always stayed by it to watch it. And birds came too, and wept for little Snow-White; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.

And now little Snow-White lay a long, long time in the coffin. She did not change, but looked as if she were asleep; for she was as white as snow, as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony.

It happened, however, that a King’s Son came into the forest, and went to the Dwarfs’ house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the mountain, and the beautiful little Snow-White within it, and read what was written upon it in golden letters.

Then he said to the Dwarfs, “Let me have the coffin. I will give you whatever you want for it.”

But the Dwarfs answered, “We will not part with it for all the gold in the world.”

Then he said, “Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live without seeing little Snow-White. I will honor and prize her as my dearest possession,” As he spoke in this way the good Dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the coffin.

And now the King’s Son had it carried away by his servants on their shoulders. And it happened, that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple, which little Snow-White had bitten off, came out of her throat. And before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive.

“Oh, where am I?” she cried.

The King’s Son, full of joy, said, “You are with me,” and told her what had happened, and said, “I love you more than everything in the world. Come with me to my father’s palace, you shall be my wife.”

And little Snow-White was willing, and went with him, and their wedding was held with great show and splendor. But the wicked Queen was also bidden to the feast. When she had arrayed herself in beautiful clothes, she went before the Looking-Glass, and said:

“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”

the Glass answered:

“_Oh, Queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
But the young Queen is fairer by far, I trow!_”

Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched, so utterly wretched, that she knew not what to do. At first she would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and must go to see the young Queen.

And when she went in she knew little Snow-White. And she stood still with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance until she dropped down dead.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he had to speak to the King, and in order to make himself appear important he said to him, “I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold.”

The King said to the miller, “That is an art which pleases me well. If your daughter is as clever as you say, bring her to-morrow to my palace, and I will try what she can do.”

And when the girl was brought to him, he took her into a room which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, “Now set to work. If by to-morrow morning early, you have not spun this straw into gold, you must die.”

Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller’s daughter, and for her life could not tell what to do. She had no idea how straw could be spun into gold; and she grew more and more miserable, until at last she began to weep.

But all at once the door opened, and in came a Little Man, and said, “Good evening, Mistress Miller. Why are you crying so?”

“Alas!” answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it.”

“What will you give me,” said the Little Man, “if I do it for you?”

“My necklace,” said the girl.

The Little Man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and _whirr, whirr, whirr,_ three turns, and the reel was full. Then he put another on, and _whirr, whirr, whirr,_ three times round, and the second was full too. And so it went on till the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels were full of gold.

By daybreak, the King was there, and when he saw the gold, he was astonished and delighted, but his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller’s daughter taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued her life.

The girl knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door again opened, and the Little Man appeared, and said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?”

“The ring on my finger,” answered the girl.

The Little Man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and, by morning, had spun all the straw into glittering gold.

The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough. He had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course of this night. But if you succeed, you shall be my wife.” “Even if she be a miller’s daughter,” thought he, “I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.”

When the girl was alone the Little Man came again for the third time, and said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time also?”

“I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl.

“Then promise me, if you should become Queen, your first child.”

“Who knows whether that will ever happen?” thought the miller’s daughter. And, not knowing how else to help herself in this difficulty, she promised the Little Man what he wanted. And for that he once more span the straw into gold.

And when the King came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage. And the pretty miller’s daughter became a Queen.

A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought to the Little Man. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “Now give me what you promised.”

The Queen was horror-struck, and offered the Little Man all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child.

But the Little Man said, “No, something that is alive, is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”

Then the Queen began to weep and cry, so that the Little Man pitied her. “I will give you three days’ time,” said he; “if by that time you find out my name, then you shall keep your child.”

So the Queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names there might be.

When the Little Man came the next day, she began with _Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar,_ and said all the names she knew, one after another. But to every one the Little Man said, “That is not my name.”

On the second day, she had inquiries made in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there. And she repeated to the Little Man the most uncommon and curious, “Perhaps your name is _Shortribs_, or _Sheepshanks_, or _Laceleg_?” but he always answered, “That is not my name.”

On the third day, the messenger came back again, and said, “I have not been able to find a single new name. But as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there I saw a little house. Before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire a funny Little Man was jumping. He hopped upon one leg, and shouted:

“_To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake,
And next, I shall the Queen’s child take!
Ah! well it is, none knows the same--
That Rumpelstiltskin is my name!_”

You may think how glad the Queen was when she heard the name! And when soon afterward the Little Man came in, and asked, “Now, Mistress Queen, what is my name?” she said:

“Is your name _Conrad_?”

“No.”

“Is your name _Harry_?”

“No.”

“Perhaps your name is _Rumpelstiltskin_?”

“The devil has told you that! the devil has told you that!” cried the Little Man, and in his anger he stamped his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in. And then in rage, he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands, that he tore himself in two.

LITTLE BRIAR-ROSE

A long time ago, there were a King and Queen who said every day, “Ah, if only we had a child!” but they never had one.

But it happened that once when the Queen was bathing, a Frog crept out of the water on to the land, and said to her, “Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before a year has gone by, you shall have a daughter.”

What the Frog had said came true, and the Queen had a little girl, who was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and ordered a great feast. He invited not only his kindred, friends and acquaintance, but also the Wise Women, in order that they might be kind and well-disposed toward the child. There were thirteen of them in his kingdom. But, as he had only twelve golden plates for them to eat out of, one of them had to be left at home.

The feast was held with all manner of splendor. When it came to an end the Wise Women bestowed their magic gifts upon the baby. One gave Virtue, another Beauty, a third Riches, and so on with everything in the world that one can wish for.

When eleven of them had made their promises, suddenly the thirteenth came in. She wished to avenge herself for not having been invited, and without greeting, or even looking at any one, she cried with a loud voice, “The King’s Daughter, in her fifteenth year, shall prick herself with a spindle, and fall down dead.” And, without saying a word more, she turned round and left the room.

They were all shocked. But the twelfth, whose good wish still remained unspoken, came forward, and as she could not undo the evil sentence, but only soften it, she said, “It shall not be death, but a deep sleep of a hundred years, into which the Princess shall fall.”

The King, who wished to keep his dear child from the misfortune, gave orders that every spindle in the whole kingdom should be burnt. Meanwhile, the gifts of the Wise Women were fulfilled on the young girl, for she was so beautiful, modest, sweet tempered, and wise, that every one who saw her, was bound to love her.

It happened that on the very day, when she was fifteen years old, the King and Queen were not at home, and the maiden was left in the palace quite alone. So she went round into all sorts of places, looked into rooms and bedchambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the door sprang open. There in a little room sat an Old Woman with a spindle, busily spinning flax.

“Good day, old Dame,” said the King’s Daughter; “what are you doing there?”

“I am spinning,” said the Old Woman, and nodded her head.

“What sort of thing is that, which rattles round so merrily?” said the maiden, and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she pricked her finger with it.

And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the bed that stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep extended over the whole palace.

The King and Queen, who had just come home, and had entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the whole of the Court with them. The horses, too, went to sleep in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall. Even the fire, that was flaming on the hearth, became quiet and slept. The roast meat left off frizzling, and the cook, who was just going to pull the hair of the scullery boy, because he had forgotten something, let him go, and went to sleep. And the wind fell; and on the trees before the castle not a leaf moved again.

But round about the castle, there began to grow a hedge of thorns. Every year it became higher, and at last grew close up round the castle and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even the flag upon the roof.

But the story of the beautiful sleeping “Briar-Rose,” for so the Princess was named, went about the country, so that from time to time Kings’ Sons came and tried to get through the thorny hedge into the castle. But they found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if they had hands, and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose again, and died a miserable death.

After long, long years, again a King’s Son came to that country. He heard an old man talking about the thorn-hedge, and that a castle was said to stand behind it in which a wonderfully beautiful Princess, named Briar-Rose, had been asleep for a hundred years; and that the King and Queen and the whole Court were asleep likewise. He had heard, too, from his grandfather, that many Kings’ Sons had come, and had tried to get through the thorny hedge, but they had remained sticking fast in it, so had died a pitiful death.

Then the youth said, “I am not afraid. I will go and see the beautiful Briar-Rose.” The good old man might dissuade him as he would, he did not listen to his words.

But by this time the hundred years had just passed. The day was come when Briar-Rose was to awake again. When the King’s Son came near to the thorn-hedge, it was nothing but large and beautiful flowers, which parted from each other of their own accord, and let him pass unhurt. Then they closed again behind him like a hedge.

In the castle-yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds lying asleep. On the roof, sat the pigeons with their heads under their wings. And when he entered the house, the flies were asleep upon the wall, the cook in the kitchen was still holding out his hand to seize the boy, and the maid was sitting by the black hen which she was going to pluck.

He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw the whole of the Court lying asleep, and by the throne lay the King and Queen.

Then he went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a breath could be heard. At last he came to the tower, and opened the door into the little room where Briar-Rose was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away. He stooped down and gave her a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her, Briar-Rose opened her eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly.

Then they went down together, and the King awoke, and the Queen, and the whole Court, and gazed at each other in great astonishment. And the horses in the courtyard stood up and shook themselves. The hounds jumped up and wagged their tails. The pigeons upon the roof pulled out their heads from under their wings, looked round, and flew into the open country. The flies on the wall crept again. The fire in the kitchen burned up and flickered and cooked the meat. The joint began to turn and frizzle, and the cook gave the boy such a box on the ear that he screamed, and the maid plucked the fowl ready for the spit.

And then the marriage of the King’s Son and Briar-Rose was celebrated with all splendor, and they lived contented to the end of their days.

THE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD

There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman whose husband died; and the man had a daughter, and the woman also had a daughter.

The girls were acquainted with each other. They went walking together, and came to the woman’s house. Then she said to the man’s daughter:

“Listen! Tell your father that I would like to marry him. Then you shall wash yourself in milk every morning and drink wine; but my own daughter shall wash herself in water and drink water.”

The girl went home, and told her father what the woman had said. The man said, “What shall I do? Marriage is a joy, also a torment!”

At last, as he could not decide, he pulled off his boot, and said, “Take this boot. It has a hole in the sole of it. Go with it upstairs to the loft. Hang it on the big nail. Then pour water into it. If it holds the water, then I will again take a wife. But if it runs through, I will not!”

The girl did as she was ordered, but the water drew the hole together, and the boot became full to the top. She informed her father how it had turned out.

Then he himself went up, and when he saw that she was right, he went to the widow and wooed her, and the wedding was celebrated.

The next morning, when the two girls got up, there stood before the man’s daughter, milk for her to wash in and wine for her to drink. But before the woman’s daughter, stood water to wash herself with and water for drinking.

On the second morning, stood water for washing and water for drinking before the man’s daughter as well as before the woman’s daughter.

And on the third morning, stood water for washing and water for drinking before the man’s daughter, and milk for washing and wine for drinking, before the woman’s daughter, and so it continued.

The woman became bitterly unkind to the man’s daughter, and day by day did her best to treat her still worse. She was envious too because the man’s daughter was beautiful and lovable, and her own daughter ugly and repulsive.

One day, in winter, when everything was frozen as hard as a stone, and hill and vale lay covered with snow, the woman made a frock of paper, called the man’s daughter and said, “Here, put on this dress and go out into the wood, and fetch me a little basketful of strawberries,--I have a fancy for some.”

“Alas!” said the girl, “no strawberries grow in winter! The ground is frozen, and besides the snow has covered everything. And why am I to go in this paper frock? It is so cold outside that one’s very breath freezes! The wind will blow through the frock, and the thorns will tear it off my body.”

“Will you contradict me again?” said the woman. “See that you go, and do not show your face again until you have the basketful of strawberries!”

Then she gave her a little piece of hard bread, and said, “This will last you the day,” and thought, “You will die of cold and hunger outside, and will never be seen again by me.”

Then the girl obeyed, and put on the paper frock, and went out with the basket. Far and wide there was nothing but snow, and not a green blade to be seen.

When she got into the wood she saw a small house out of which peeped three little Dwarfs. She wished them good day, and knocked modestly at the door. They cried, “Come in,” and she entered the room and seated herself on the bench by the stove, where she began to warm herself and eat her breakfast.

The Dwarfs said, “Give us some of it.”

“Willingly,” said she, and divided her bit of bread in two, and gave them the half.

They asked, “What do you here in the forest in the winter time, in your thin dress?”

“Ah,” she answered, “I am to look for a basketful of strawberries, and am not to go home until I can take them with me.”

When she had eaten her bread, they gave her a broom and said, “Sweep away the snow at the back door with it.”

But when she was outside, the three Little Men said to one another, “What shall we give her as she is so good, and has shared her bread with us?”

Then said the first, “My gift is, that every day she shall grow more beautiful.”

The second said, “My gift is, that gold pieces shall fall out of her mouth every time she speaks.”

The third said, “My gift is, that a King shall come and take her to wife.”

The girl, however, did as the Little Men had bidden her, swept away the snow behind the little house with the broom. And what did she find but real ripe strawberries, which came up quite dark-red out of the snow! In her joy she hastily gathered her basket full, thanked the Little Men, shook hands with each of them, and ran home to take the woman what she had longed for so much.

When she went in and said good-evening, a piece of gold at once fell out of her mouth. Thereupon she related what had happened to her in the wood. But with every word she spoke, gold pieces fell from her mouth, until very soon the whole room was covered with them.

“Now look at her pride,” cried the woman’s daughter, “to throw about gold in that way!” but she was secretly envious of it, and wanted to go into the forest to seek strawberries.

Her mother said, “No, my dear little Daughter, it is too cold, you might die of cold.”

However, as her daughter let her have no peace, the mother at last yielded, made her a magnificent dress of fur, which she was obliged to put on, and gave her bread-and-butter and cake to take with her.

The girl went into the forest and straight up to the little house. The three Little Men peeped out again, but she did not greet them. Without looking round at them and without speaking to them, she went awkwardly into the room, seated herself by the stove, and began to eat her bread-and-butter and cake.

“Give us some of it,” cried the Little Men.

But she replied, “There is not enough for myself, so how can I give it away to other people?”

When she had done eating, they said, “There is a broom for you, sweep all clean for us outside by the back-door.”

“Humph! Sweep for yourselves,” she answered, “I am not your servant.”

When she saw that they were not going to give her anything, she went out the door. Then the Little Men said to each other, “What shall we give her as she is so naughty, and has a wicked envious heart, that will never let her do a good turn to any one?”

The first said, “I grant that she may grow uglier every day.”

The second said, “I grant that at every word she says, a toad shall spring out of her mouth.”

The third said, “I grant that she may die a miserable death.”

The maiden looked for strawberries outside, but as she found none, she went angrily home. And when she opened her mouth, and was about to tell her mother what had happened to her in the wood, with each word she said, a toad sprang out of her mouth, so that everybody was seized with horror of her.

Then her mother was still more enraged, and thought of nothing but how to do every possible injury to the man’s daughter, whose beauty, however, grew daily greater. At length she took a cauldron, set it on the fire, and boiled yarn in it. When it was boiled, she flung it on the poor girl’s shoulder, and gave her an axe in order that she might go on the frozen river, cut a hole in the ice, and rinse the yarn.

She was obedient, went thither and cut a hole in the ice. And while she was in the midst of her cutting, a splendid carriage came driving up, in which sat the King. The carriage stopped, and the King asked, “My Child, who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“I am a poor girl, and I am rinsing yarn.”

Then the King felt compassion, and when he saw that she was so very beautiful, he said to her, “Will you go away with me?”

“Ah, yes, with all my heart,” she answered, for she was glad to get away from the mother and sister.

So she got into the carriage and drove away with the King, and when they arrived at his palace, the wedding was celebrated with great pomp, as the Little Men had granted to the maiden.

THE GOLDEN BIRD

In the olden time, there was a King, who had behind his palace a beautiful pleasure-garden, in which there was a tree that bore Golden Apples. When the apples were getting ripe they were counted, but on the very next morning one was missing. This was told to the King, and he ordered that a watch should be kept every night beneath the tree.

The King had three sons, the eldest of whom he sent, as soon as night came, into the garden. But when it was midnight, he could not keep himself from sleeping, and next morning again an apple was gone.

The following night, the second son had to keep watch, it fared no better with him. As soon as twelve o’clock had struck he fell asleep, and in the morning an apple was gone.

Now, it came to the turn of the third son to watch. He was quite ready, but the King had not much trust in him, and thought that he would be of less use than his brothers. But at last he let him go.

The youth lay down beneath the tree, but kept awake, and did not let sleep master him. When it struck twelve, something rustled through the air, and in the moonlight he saw a bird coming whose feathers were shining with gold. The bird alighted on the tree, and had just plucked off an apple, when the youth shot an arrow at him. The bird flew off, but the arrow had struck his plumage, and one of his golden feathers fell down.

The youth picked it up, and the next morning took it to the King and told him what he had seen in the night. The King called his council together, and every one declared that a feather like this was worth more than the whole kingdom.

“If the feather is so precious,” declared the King, “one alone will not do for me. I must and will have the whole bird!”

The eldest son set out. He trusted to his cleverness, and thought that he would easily find the Golden Bird. When he had gone some distance he saw a Fox sitting at the edge of a wood, so he cocked his gun and took aim at him.

The Fox cried, “Do not shoot me! And in return I will give you some good counsel. You are on the way to the Golden Bird. This evening you will come to a village in which stand two inns opposite to one another. One of them is lighted up brightly, and all goes on merrily within, but do not enter it. Go rather into the other, even though it seems a bad one.”

“How can such a silly beast give wise advice?” thought the King’s Son, and he pulled the trigger. But he missed the Fox, who stretched out his tail and ran quickly into the wood.