Chapter 6

Early in the morning the King came. He could hardly wait to learn whether the girl had done her difficult task. When he saw the room heaped with gold he fairly danced with joy, although that was not very dignified for a King. Having one room full of gold only made him want another. So he took the miller's daughter to a larger room, where there was even more straw. Once more he told her that if she wanted to live she must turn the straw to gold.

The little Dwarf helped her out again. This time she had to pay him with her ring.

In the morning, when the King saw all the gold, he was still not satisfied. He was getting rich so easily that he hated to stop. So he had the miller's daughter led to the largest room in the palace, and had it filled with straw for her to spin into gold.

This time, however, he told the girl that if she succeeded for the third time in her task she should become his wife. "She's only the poor miller's daughter," he said to himself, "but look how rich she is."

The girl was not surprised to see the Dwarf come in. He was quite disagreeable, though, when she said she had nothing to give him this time for spinning the gold.

"What!" he said, "have you no reward for me? Then you must promise me your first child after you become Queen."

There seemed nothing to do but to promise the little fellow what he asked. "Lots of things may happen before the promise is fulfilled," she thought.

So the straw was spun into gold, and the King was greatly pleased. Soon after this the miller's daughter became Queen.

A year passed, and the whole kingdom was celebrating the birth of a son to the King and Queen. The Queen was so happy about her child that she quite forgot the promise she had made to the manikin who had saved her life. But _he_ had not forgotten.

"Give me that child," said he one day, appearing, as was his habit, out of nowhere. The Queen was frightened, yet refused to give up her child. She offered him anything else he would name, but the child he could never have.

"The child," he answered, "is the only thing I want." Yet he was sorry for the Queen.

"Well," he said finally, "I'll let you have the child for three days. If you can tell me my name before this time is up, you can keep your little one."

The Queen sent messengers to search the country and bring her all the unusual names they could discover.

After one day the manikin came back to find out whether his name had been discovered.

"Is your name Kasper, or Melchior, or Belshayzar?" the Queen asked in a worried manner.

"Oh, no!" the little fellow said to each name she suggested.

The second day the Queen tried him with some names she had made up herself. "Perhaps they call you Sheepshanks, or Cruickshanks, or Spindleshanks?" she suggested eagerly. But each time the manikin shook his head haughtily and answered, "No!"

The poor Queen was nearly crazy with worry on the third day, and the messengers could find no more queer names. One of them, however, told this story:

"I was drawing to the top of a high hill, and the road where I was riding went through a thick wood. Not a new name had I learned all day. But suddenly I came upon a hut, and before it was a big fire. A little man was hopping madly about the fire, and singing at the top of his voice:

"'Now a feast I must prepare, Of the finest royal fare. Soon the Queen must give her son To me, for I'm the lucky one. That Rumpelstiltskin is my name, She will never guess--the silly dame.'"

The Queen was so delighted she did not even mind being called silly. Soon the manikin came in.

"Well," he said defiantly, "I guess you don't know my name yet, do you? Remember, this is your last chance."

"Oh, dear," said the Queen, pretending to be very anxious. "Is it John?"

"No!" thundered the manikin. "Give me the child."

"Is it," the Queen asked softly, "by any chance Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Some witch has told you that! Some witch had told you that!" cried the little man; and he dashed his left foot in a rage so deep into the floor that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it out. Then he made the best of his way off, while everybody laughed at him for having had all his trouble for nothing.

RAPUNZEL, OR THE FAIR MAID WITH GOLDEN HAIR

BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

There were once a man and a woman who wished very much to have a little child. Now, these people had a small window in their cottage which looked out into a beautiful garden full of the most lovely flowers and vegetables. There was a high wall round it, but even had there not been no one would have ventured to enter the garden, because it belonged to a sorceress, whose power was so great that every one feared her.

One day the woman stood at the window looking into the garden, and she saw a bed which was planted full of most beautiful lettuces. As she looked at them she began to wish she had some to eat, but she could not ask for them.

Day after day her wish for these lettuces grew stronger, and the knowledge that she could not get them so worried her that at last she became so pale and thin that her husband was quite alarmed.

"What is the matter with you, dear wife?" he asked one day.

"Ah!" she said, "if I do not have some of that nice lettuce which grows in the garden behind our house, I feel that I shall die."

The husband, who loved his wife dearly, said to himself: "Rather than my wife should die, I will get some of this lettuce for her, cost what it may."

So in the evening twilight he climbed over the wall into the garden of the Witch, hastily gathered a handful of the lettuces, and brought them to his wife. She made a salad, and ate it with great eagerness.

It pleased her so much and tasted so good that, after two or three days had passed, she gave her husband no rest till he promised to get her some more. So again in the evening twilight he climbed the wall, but as he slid down into the garden on the other side he was terribly alarmed at seeing the Witch standing near him.

"How came you here?" she said with a fierce look. "You have climbed over the wall into my garden like a thief and stolen my lettuces; you shall pay dearly for this!"

"Ah!" replied the poor man, "let me entreat for mercy; I have only taken it in a case of extreme need. My wife has seen your lettuces from her window, and she wished for them so much that she said she should die if she could not have some of them to eat."

Then the Witch's anger cooled a little, and she replied: "If what you tell me is true, then I will give you full permission to take as many lettuces as you like, on one condition: you must give up to me the child which your wife may bring into the world. I will be very kind to it, and be as careful of it as a mother could be."

The husband in his alarm promised everything the Witch asked, and took away with him as many lettuces as his wife wanted.

Not many weeks after this the wife became the mother of a beautiful little girl, and in a short time the Witch appeared and claimed her according to the husband's promise. Thus they were obliged to give up their child, which she took away with her directly, and gave her the name of Letitia, but she was always called Lettice, after the name of the vegetable which grew in the garden.

Lettice was the most beautiful child under the sun, and as soon as she reached the age of twelve years the Witch locked her up in a tower that stood in a forest, and this tower had no steps, nor any entrance, excepting a little window. When the Witch, wished to visit Lettice, she would place herself under this window and sing:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Lettice had the most long and beautiful hair like spun-gold; and when she heard the voice of the Witch she would unbind her golden locks and let them fall loose over the window sill, from which they hung down to such a length that the Witch could draw herself up by them into the tower.

Two years passed in this manner, when it happened one day that the King's son rode through the forest. While passing near the tower he heard such a lovely song that he could not help stopping to listen. It was Lettice, who tried to lighten her solitude by the sound of her own sweet voice.

The King's son was very eager to obtain a glimpse of the singer, but he sought in vain for a door to the tower; there was not one to be found.

So he rode home, but the song had made such an impression on his heart that he went daily into the forest to listen. Once, while he stood behind a tree, he saw the Witch approach the tower, and heard her say:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Presently he saw a quantity of long golden hair hanging down low over the window sill, and the Witch climbing up by it.

"Oh!" said the young Prince, "if that is the ladder on which persons can mount and enter, I will take the first opportunity of trying my luck that way."

So on the following day, as it began to grow dark, he placed himself under the window, and cried:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Immediately the hair fell over the window, and the young Prince quickly climbed up and entered the room where the young maiden lived.

Lettice was dreadfully frightened at seeing a strange man come into the room through the window; but the King's son looked at her with such friendly eyes, and began to converse with her so kindly, that she soon lost all fear.

He told her that he had heard her singing, and that her song had excited such a deep emotion in his heart that he could not rest till he had seen her. On hearing this Lettice ceased to fear him, and they talked together for some time, till at length the Prince asked her if she would take him for a husband. For a time she hesitated, although she saw that he was young and handsome, and he had told her he was a prince.

At last she said to herself: "He will certainly love me better than old Mother Grethel does." So she placed her hand in his, and said: "I would willingly go with you and be your wife, but I do not know in the least how to get away from this place. Unless," she added, after a pause, "you will bring me every day some strong silk cord; then I will weave a ladder of it, and when it is finished I will descend upon it, and you shall take me away on your horse."

The Prince readily agreed to this, and promised to come and see her every evening till the ladder was finished, for the old Witch always came in the daytime.

The Witch had never seen the Prince; she knew nothing of his visits till one day Lettice said innocently: "I shall not have such a heavy weight as you to draw up much longer, Mother Grethel, for the King's son is coming very soon to fetch me away."

"You wicked child!" cried the Witch; "what do I hear you say? I thought I had hidden you from all the world, and now you have betrayed me!" In her wrath she caught hold of Lettice's beautiful hair, and struck her several times with her left hand. Then she seized a pair of scissors and cut Lettice's hair, while the beautiful locks, glistening like gold, fell to the ground. And she was so hard-hearted after this that she dragged poor Lettice out into the forest, to a wild and desert place, and left her there in sorrow and great distress.

On the same day on which the poor maiden had been exiled the Witch tied the locks of hair which she had cut off poor Lettice's golden head into a kind of tail, and hung it over the window sill.

In the evening the Prince came and cried:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Then the Witch let the hair down, and the King's son climbed up; but at the open window he found not his dear Lettice, but a wicked witch who looked at him with cruel and malicious eyes.

"Ah!" she cried with a sneer, "you are come to fetch your loving bride, I suppose; but the beautiful bird has flown from the nest, and will never sing any more. The cat has fetched it away, and she intends also to scratch your eyes out. To thee is Lettice lost; thou wilt never behold her again!"

The Prince felt almost out of his mind with grief as he heard this, and in his despair he sprang out of the tower window and fell among the thorns and brambles beneath. He certainly escaped with his life, but the thorns stuck into his eyes and blinded them. After this he wandered about the wood for days, eating only wild roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep for the loss of his beloved bride.

So wandered he for a whole year in misery, till at last he came upon the desert place where Lettice had been banished and lived in her sorrow.

As he drew near he heard a voice which he seemed to recognize, and advancing toward the sound came within sight of Lettice, who recognized him at once, with tears. Two of her tears fell on his eyes, and so healed and cleared them of the injury done by the thorns that he could soon see as well as ever. Then he traveled with her to his kingdom, and she became his wife, and the remainder of their days were spent in happiness and content.

SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED

BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

There was once a poor Widow, who lived alone in her hut with her two children, who were called Snow-White and Rose-Red, because they were like the flowers which bloomed on two rose-bushes which grew before the cottage. But they were two as pious, good, industrious, and amiable children as any that were in the world, only Snow-White was more quiet and gentle than Rose-Red. For Rose-Red would run and jump about the meadows, seeking flowers, and catching butterflies, while Snow-White sat at home helping her Mother to keep house, or reading to her, if there were nothing else to do.

The two children loved one another dearly, and always walked hand-in-hand when they went out together; and ever when they talked of it they agreed that they would never separate from each other, and that whatever one had the other should share. Often they ran deep into the forest and gathered wild berries; but no beast ever harmed them. For the hare would eat cauliflowers out of their hands, the fawn would graze at their side, the goats would frisk about them in play, and the birds remained perched on the boughs singing as if nobody were near.

No accidents ever befell them; and if they stayed late in the forest, and night came upon them, they used to lie down on the moss and sleep till morning; and because their Mother knew they would do so, she felt no concern about them. One time when they had thus passed the night in the forest, and the dawn of morning awoke them, they saw a beautiful Child dressed in shining white sitting near their couch. She got up and looked at them kindly, but without saying anything went into the forest; and when the children looked round they saw that where they had slept was close to the edge of a pit, into which they would have certainly fallen had they walked a couple of steps further in the dark.

Their Mother told them the figure they had seen was, doubtless, the good angel who watches over children.

Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their Mother's cottage so clean that it was a pleasure to enter it. Every morning in the summertime Rose-Red would first put the house in order, and then gather a nosegay for her Mother, in which she always placed a bud from each rose-tree. Every winter's morning Snow-White would light the fire and put the kettle on to boil, and, although the kettle was made of copper, it yet shone like gold, because it was scoured so well. In the evenings, when the flakes of snow were falling, the Mother would say, "Go, Snow-White, and bolt the door;" and then they used to sit down on the hearth, and the Mother would put on her spectacles and read out of a great book while her children sat spinning. By their side, too, lay a little lamb, and on a perch behind them a little white dove reposed with her head tucked under her wing.

One evening when they were thus sitting comfortably together, there came a knock at the door, as if somebody wished to come in. "Make haste, Rose-Red," cried her Mother; "make haste and open the door; perhaps there is some traveler outside who needs shelter."

So Rose-Red went and drew the bolt and opened the door, expecting to see some poor man outside; but instead, a great fat bear poked his black head in. Rose-Red shrieked out and ran back, the little lamb bleated, the dove fluttered on her perch, and Snow-White hid herself behind her Mother's bed. The Bear, however, began to speak, and said, "Be not afraid, I will do you no harm; but I am half frozen, and wish to come in and warm myself."

"Poor Bear!" cried the Mother; "come in and lie down before the fire; but take care you do not burn your skin;" and then she continued, "Come here, Rose-Red and Snow-White, the Bear will not harm you, he means honorably." So they both came back, and by degrees the lamb too and the dove overcame their fears and welcomed the rough visitor.

"You children!" said the Bear, before he entered, "come and knock the snow off my coat." And they fetched their brooms and swept him clean. Then he stretched himself before the fire and grumbled out his satisfaction, and in a little while the children became familiar enough to play tricks with the unwieldy animal. They pulled his long shaggy skin, set their feet upon his back and rolled him to and fro, and even ventured to beat him with a hazel-stick, laughing when he grumbled. The Bear bore all their tricks good-temperedly, and if they hit too hard he cried out,--

"Leave me my life, you children, Snow-White and Rose-Red, Or you'll never wed."

When bedtime came and the others were gone, the Mother said to the Bear, "You may sleep here on the hearth if you like, and then you will be safely protected from the cold and bad weather."

As soon as day broke the two children let the Bear out again, and he trotted away over the snow, and ever afterward he came every evening at a certain hour. He would lie down on the hearth and allow the children to play with him as much as they liked, till by degrees they became so accustomed to him that the door was left unbolted till their black friend arrived.

But as soon as spring returned, and everything out of doors was green again, the Bear one morning told Snow-White that he must leave her, and could not return during the whole summer. "Where are you going, then, dear Bear?" asked Snow-White. "I am obliged to go into the forest and guard my treasures from the evil Dwarfs; for in winter, when the ground is hard, they are obliged to keep in their holes and cannot work through; but now, since the sun has thawed the earth and warmed it, the Dwarfs pierce through and steal all they can find; and what has once passed into their hands, and gets concealed by them in their caves, is not easily brought to light."

Snow-White, however, was very sad at the departure of the Bear, and opened the door so hesitatingly, that when he pressed through it he left behind on the latch a piece of his hairy coat; and through the hole which was made in his coat Snow-White fancied she saw the glittering of gold, but she was not quite certain of it. The Bear, however, ran hastily away, and was soon hidden behind the trees.

Some time afterward the Mother sent the children into the woods to gather sticks, and while doing so they came to a tree which was lying across the path, on the trunk of which something kept bobbing up and down from the grass, and they could not imagine what it was. When they came nearer they saw a Dwarf, with an old wrinkled face and a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of this beard was fixed in a split of the tree, and the little man kept jumping about like a dog tied by a chain, for he did not know how to free himself. He glared at the Maidens with his red, fiery eyes, and exclaimed, "Why do you stand there? Are you going to pass without offering me any assistance?"

"What have you done, little man?" asked Rose-Red.

"You stupid, gazing goose!" exclaimed he, "I wanted to have split the tree in order to get a little wood for my kitchen, for the little food which we use is soon burnt up with great faggots, not like what you rough greedy people devour! I had driven the wedge in properly, and everything was going on well, when the smooth wood flew upward, and the tree closed so suddenly together, that I could not draw my beautiful beard out; and here it sticks, and I cannot get away. There, don't laugh, you milk-faced things! Are you dumbfounded?"

The children took all the pains they could to pull the Dwarf's beard out, but without success. "I will run and fetch some help," cried Rose-Red at length.

"Crack-brained sheep's-head that you are!" snarled the Dwarf; "what are you going to call other people for? You are two too many now for me; can you think of nothing else?"

"Don't be impatient," replied Snow-White: "I have thought of something;" and pulling her scissors out of her pocket, she cut off the end of the beard. As soon as the Dwarf found himself at liberty he snatched up his sack, which laid between the roots of the tree filled with gold, and, throwing it over his shoulder, marched off, grumbling, and groaning, and crying "Stupid people! to cut off a piece of my beautiful beard. Plague take you!" And away he went without once looking at the children.

Some time afterward Snow-White and Rose-Red went a-fishing and as they neared the pond they saw something like a great locust hopping about on the bank, as if going to jump into the water. They ran up and recognized the Dwarf; "What are you after?" asked Rose-Red; "you will fall into the water."

"I am not quite such a simpleton as that," replied the Dwarf; "but do you not see this fish will pull me in?"

The little man had been sitting there angling, and, unfortunately, the wind had entangled his beard with the fishing-line; and so when a great fish bit at the bait, the strength of the weak little fellow was not able to draw it out, and the fish had the best of the struggle. The Dwarf held on by the reeds and rushes which grew near, but to no purpose, for the fish pulled him where it liked, and he must soon have been drawn into the pond. Luckily just then the two Maidens arrived, and tried to release the beard of the Dwarf from the fishing-line, but both were too closely entangled for it to be done. So the Maiden pulled out her scissors again and cut off another piece of the beard.

When the Dwarf saw this done he was in a great rage, and exclaimed, "You donkey! that is the way to disfigure my face. Was it not enough to cut it once, but you must now take away the best part of my fine beard? I dare not show myself again now to my own people. I wish you had run the soles off your boots before you had come here!" So saying he took up a bag of pearls, which lay among the rushes, and, without speaking another word, slipped off and disappeared behind a stone.

Not many days after this adventure, it chanced that the Mother sent the two Maidens to the next town to buy thread, needles and pins, laces, and ribbons. Their road passed over a common, on which, here and there, great pieces of rock were lying about. Just over their heads they saw a great bird flying round and round, and every now and then dropping lower and lower, till at last it flew down behind a rock. Immediately afterward they heard a piercing shriek, and, running up, they saw with affright that the eagle had caught their old acquaintance, the Dwarf, and was trying to carry him off. The compassionate children thereupon laid hold of the little man, and held him fast till the bird gave up the struggle and flew off.