Myth-Folklore Unit: Brothers Grimm (Crane)

Overview. There are four different Grimm units taken from four different English-language sources. This selection (from Lucy and Walter Crane's Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm) features longer stories, like the famous tales of Cinderella (called Aschenputtel in German) and Snow-White and the Seven Dwarves. There are also two other classic fairy-tale type stories: The Six Swans, the tale of a woman who is on a quest to free her brothers who have been turned into swans, and King Thrushbeard, the story of a proud princess who thinks she is too good for all the men who are seeking her hand in marriage. In the "not safe for children" category is the horrifying tale of The Robber Bridegroom, and also for grown-up audiences is the hilarious story The Fisherman and His Wife, along with the humorous tale of The Three Spinsters.

Language. This is a contemporary English prose translation of the Brothers Grimm, so it should not pose any real difficulties.

Story Length. This unit contains longer stories that are either two, three or four pages in length.

Choosing Between Units. There are four different Grimm units: the Ashliman and LibriVox units contain shorter, less familiar stories (and the LibriVox one has audio recordings), while the Crane and Hunt units contain longer, more familiar stories.

Navigation. You will find the table of contents below, and you can also use this link to see the story posts displayed on two pages total: Brothers Grimm (Crane). Click "Older Posts" at the bottom of that page to see the second page.

Additional Resources. There is a Grimm Index page for all the fables in the four Grimm units in this course, and you can use this link to see the four different Grimm units listed on a single page.

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READING A:

1. The Fisherman and His Wife
2. The Fisherman and His Wife (cont.)
3. The Fisherman and His Wife (cont. again)
4. The Fisherman and His Wife (end)
5. Aschenputtel
6. Aschenputtel (cont.)
7. Aschenputtel (end)
8. The Robber Bridegroom
9. The Robber Bridegroom (cont.)

READING B:

1. The Six Swans
2. The Six Swans (cont.)
3. The Six Swans (end)
4. King Thrushbeard
5. King Thrushbeard (cont.)
6. The Three Spinsters
7. Snow-White
8. Snow-White (cont.)
9. Snow-White (cont. again)
10. Snow-White (end)

Grimm: The Fisherman and His Wife

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Alexander Zick)

The Fisherman and His Wife

There was once a fisherman and his wife who lived together in a hovel by the sea-shore, and the fisherman went out every day with his hook and line to catch fish, and he angled and angled.

One day, he was sitting with his rod and looking into the clear water, and he sat and sat.

At last down went the line to the bottom of the water, and when he drew it up, he found a great flounder on the hook. And the flounder said to him, "Fisherman, listen to me; let me go — I am not a real fish but an enchanted prince. What good shall I be to you if you land me? I shall not taste well; so put me back into the water again, and let me swim away."

"Well," said the fisherman, "no need of so many words about the matter; as you can speak, I had much rather let you swim away."

Then he put him back into the clear water, and the flounder sank to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the fisherman got up and went home to his wife in their hovel.

"Well, husband," said the wife, "have you caught nothing to-day?"

"No," said the man — "that is, I did catch a flounder, but as he said he was an enchanted prince, I let him go again."

"Then, did you wish for nothing?" said the wife.

"No," said the man; "what should I wish for?"

"Oh dear!" said the wife; "and it is so dreadful always to live in this evil-smelling hovel; you might as well have wished for a little cottage; go again and call him; tell him we want a little cottage, I daresay he will give it us; go, and be quick."

And when he went back, the sea was green and yellow, and not nearly so clear. So he stood and said,

O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not."

Then the flounder came swimming up and said, "Now then, what does she want?"

"Oh," said the man, "you know when I caught you my wife says I ought to have wished for something. She does not want to live any longer in the hovel and would rather have a cottage.

"Go home with you," said the flounder; "she has it already."

So the man went home and found, instead of the hovel, a little cottage, and his wife was sitting on a bench before the door. And she took him by the hand, and said to him, "Come in and see if this is not a great improvement."

So they went in, and there was a little house-place and a beautiful little bedroom, a kitchen and larder, with all sorts of furniture, and iron and brass ware of the very best. And at the back was a little yard with fowls and ducks, and a little garden full of green vegetables and fruit.

"Look," said the wife, "is not that nice?"

"Yes," said the man, "if this can only last, we shall be very well contented."

"We will see about that," said the wife. And after a meal they went to bed.

So all went well for a week or fortnight, when the wife said, "Look here, husband, the cottage is really too confined, and the yard and garden are so small; I think the flounder had better get us a larger house. I should like very much to live in a large stone castle; so, go to your fish and he will send us a castle."

"O my dear wife," said the man, "the cottage is good enough; what do we want a castle for?"

"We want one," said the wife; "go along with you; the flounder can give us one."

"Now, wife," said the man, "the flounder gave us the cottage; I do not like to go to him again — he may be angry."

"Go along," said the wife; "he might just as well give us it as not; do as I say!"

The man felt very reluctant and unwilling; and he said to himself, "It is not the right thing to do," — nevertheless he went.

Next: The Fisherman and His Wife (cont.)

(700 words)

Grimm: The Fisherman and His Wife (cont.)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Otto Ubbelohde)

The Fisherman and His Wife (cont.)

So when he came to the seaside, the water was purple and dark blue and grey and thick, and not green and yellow as before. And he stood and said,

O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not."

"Now then, what does she want?" said the flounder.

"Oh," said the man, half-frightened, "she wants to live in a large stone castle."

"Go home with you; she is already standing before the door," said the flounder.

Then the man went home, as he supposed, but when he got there, there stood in the place of the cottage a great castle of stone, and his wife was standing on the steps, about to go in; so she took him by the hand and said, "Let us enter."

With that he went in with her, and in the castle was a great hall with a marble pavement, and there were a great many servants who led them through large doors, and the passages were decked with tapestry, and the rooms with golden chairs and tables and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and all the rooms had carpets. And the tables were covered with eatables and the best wine for any one who wanted them. And at the back of the house was a great stable-yard for horses and cattle, and carriages of the finest; besides, there was a splendid large garden with the most beautiful flowers and fine fruit trees, and a pleasance full half a mile long, with deer and oxen and sheep, and everything that heart could wish for.

"There!" said the wife, "is not this beautiful?"

"Oh yes," said the man, "if it will only last, we can live in this fine castle and be very well contented."

"We will see about that," said the wife; "in the meanwhile, we will sleep upon it." With that they went to bed.

The next morning the wife was awake first, just at the break of day, and she looked out and saw from her bed the beautiful country lying all round. The man took no notice of it, so she poked him in the side with her elbow, and said, "Husband, get up and just look out of the window. Look, just think if we could be king over all this country. Just go to your fish and tell him we should like to be king."

"Now, wife," said the man, "what should we be kings for? I don't want to be king."

"Well," said the wife, "if you don't want to be king, I will be king."

"Now, wife," said the man, "what do you want to be king for? I could not ask him such a thing."

"Why not?" said the wife, "you must go directly all the same; I must be king."

So the man went, very much put out that his wife should want to be king.

"It is not the right thing to do — not at all the right thing," thought the man. He did not at all want to go, and yet he went all the same.

And when he came to the sea the water was quite dark grey, and rushed far inland, and had an ill smell. And he stood and said,

"O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not."

"Now then, what does she want?" said the fish.

"Oh dear!" said the man, "she wants to be king."

"Go home with you, she is so already," said the fish.

So the man went back, and as he came to the palace, he saw it was very much larger and had great towers and splendid gateways; the herald stood before the door, and a number of soldiers with kettle-drums and trumpets.

And when he came inside everything was of marble and gold, and there were many curtains with great golden tassels. Then he went through the doors of the saloon to where the great throne-room was, and there was his wife sitting upon a throne of gold and diamonds, and she had a great golden crown on, and the sceptre in her hand was of pure gold and jewels, and on each side stood six pages in a row, each one a head shorter than the other.

So the man went up to her and said, "Well, wife, so now you are king!"

"Yes," said the wife, "now I am king."

Next: The Fisherman and His Wife (cont. again)

(700 words)

Grimm: The Fisherman and His Wife (cont. again)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

The Fisherman and His Wife (cont. again)

So then he stood and looked at her, and when he had gazed at her for some time he said, "Well, wife, this is fine for you to be king! Now there is nothing more to wish for."

"O husband," said the wife, seeming quite restless, "I am tired of this already! Go to your fish and tell him that, now I am king, I must be emperor."

"Now, wife," said the man, "what do you want to be emperor for?"

"Husband," said she, "go and tell the fish I want to be emperor."

"Oh dear!" said the man, "he could not do it — I cannot ask him such a thing. There is but one emperor at a time; the fish can't possibly make any one emperor — indeed he can't."

"Now, look here," said the wife, "I am king, and you are only my husband, so will you go at once? Go along! For if he was able to make me king, he is able to make me emperor, and I will and must be emperor, so go along!"

So he was obliged to go, and as he went, he felt very uncomfortable about it, and he thought to himself, "It is not at all the right thing to do; to want to be emperor is really going too far; the flounder will soon be beginning to get tired of this."

With that he came to the sea, and the water was quite black and thick, and the foam flew, and the wind blew, and the man was terrified. But he stood and said,

O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not."

"What is it now?" said the fish.

"Oh dear!" said the man, "my wife wants to be emperor."

"Go home with you," said the fish, "she is emperor already."

So the man went home and found the castle adorned with polished marble, and alabaster figures, and golden gates. The troops were being marshalled before the door, and they were blowing trumpets and beating drums and cymbals, and when he entered, he saw barons and earls and dukes waiting about like servants, and the doors were of bright gold.

And he saw his wife sitting upon a throne made of one entire piece of gold, and it was about two miles high, and she had a great golden crown on, which was about three yards high, set with brilliants and carbuncles, and in one hand she held the sceptre, and in the other the globe, and on both sides of her stood pages in two rows, all arranged according to their size, from the most enormous giant of two miles high to the tiniest dwarf of the size of my little finger, and before her stood earls and dukes in crowds.

So the man went up to her and said, "Well, wife, so now you are emperor."

"Yes," said she, "now I am emperor."

Then he went and sat down and had a good look at her, and then he said, "Well now, wife, there is nothing left to be, now you are emperor."

"What are you talking about, husband?" said she; "I am emperor, and next I will be pope! So go and tell the fish so."

"Oh dear!" said the man, "what is it that you don't want? You can never become pope; there is but one pope in Christendom, and the fish can't possibly do it."

"Husband," said she, "no more words about it; I must and will be pope; so go along to the fish."

"Now, wife," said the man, "how can I ask him such a thing? it is too bad — it is asking a little too much, and besides, he could not do it."

"What rubbish!" said the wife; "if he could make me emperor he can make me pope. Go along and ask him; I am emperor, and you are only my husband, so go you must."

So he went, feeling very frightened, and he shivered and shook, and his knees trembled, and there arose a great wind, and the clouds flew by, and it grew very dark, and the sea rose mountains high, and the ships were tossed about, and the sky was partly blue in the middle, but at the sides very dark and red, as in a great tempest. And he felt very desponding, and stood trembling and said,

"O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not."

"Well, what now?" said the fish.

"Oh dear!" said the man, "she wants to be pope."

"Go home with you; she is pope already," said the fish.

Next: The Fisherman and His Wife (end)

(800 words)

Grimm: The Fisherman and His Wife (end)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

The Fisherman and His Wife (end)

So he went home, and he found himself before a great church, with palaces all round. He had to make his way through a crowd of people, and when he got inside, he found the place lighted up with thousands and thousands of lights, and his wife was clothed in a golden garment, and sat upon a very high throne, and had three golden crowns on, all in the greatest priestly pomp, and on both sides of her there stood two rows of lights of all sizes — from the size of the longest tower to the smallest rushlight, and all the emperors and kings were kneeling before her and kissing her foot.

"Well, wife," said the man, and sat and stared at her, "so you are pope."

"Yes," said she, "now I am pope!"

And he went on gazing at her till he felt dazzled, as if he were sitting in the sun. And after a little time he said, "Well, now, wife, what is there left to be, now you are pope?"

And she sat up very stiff and straight, and said nothing.

And he said again, "Well, wife, I hope you are contented at last with being pope; you can be nothing more."

"We will see about that," said the wife. With that they both went to bed, but she was as far as ever from being contented, and she could not get to sleep for thinking of what she should like to be next.

The husband, however, slept as fast as a top after his busy day, but the wife tossed and turned from side to side the whole night through, thinking all the while what she could be next, but nothing would occur to her, and when she saw the red dawn, she slipped off the bed and sat before the window to see the sun rise, and as it came up, she said, "Ah, I have it! What if I should make the sun and moon to rise — husband!" she cried and stuck her elbow in his ribs; "wake up, and go to your fish, and tell him I want power over the sun and moon."

The man was so fast asleep that when he started up he fell out of bed. Then he shook himself together, and opened his eyes and said, "Oh, — wife, what did you say?"

"Husband," said she, "if I cannot get the power of making the sun and moon rise when I want them, I shall never have another quiet hour. Go to the fish and tell him so."

"O wife!" said the man, and fell on his knees to her, "the fish can really not do that for you. I grant you he could make you emperor and pope; do be contented with that, I beg of you."

And she became wild with impatience, and screamed out, "I can wait no longer; go at once!"

And so off he went as well as he could for fright. And a dreadful storm arose, so that he could hardly keep his feet, and the houses and trees were blown down, and the mountains trembled, and rocks fell in the sea; the sky was quite black, and it thundered and lightened; and the waves, crowned with foam, ran mountains high. So he cried out, without being able to hear his own words,

O man, O man! — if man you be,
Or flounder, flounder, in the sea —
Such a tiresome wife I've got,
For she wants what I do not.

"Well, what now?" said the flounder.

"Oh dear!" said the man, "she wants to order about the sun and moon."

"Go home with you!" said the flounder, "you will find her in the old hovel."

And there they are sitting to this very day.

Next: Aschenputtel

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(600 words)

Grimm: Aschenputtel

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

Aschenputtel

There was once a rich man whose wife lay sick, and when she felt her end drawing near, she called to her only daughter to come near her bed and said, "Dear child, be pious and good, and God will always take care of you, and I will look down upon you from heaven and will be with you."

And then she closed her eyes and expired. The maiden went every day to her mother's grave and wept, and was always pious and good. When the winter came, the snow covered the grave with a white covering, and when the sun came in the early spring and melted it away, the man took to himself another wife.

The new wife brought two daughters home with her, and they were beautiful and fair in appearance, but at heart were black and ugly. And then began very evil times for the poor step-daughter.

"Is the stupid creature to sit in the same room with us?" said they; "those who eat food must earn it. Out upon her for a kitchen-maid!"

They took away her pretty dresses, and put on her an old gray kirtle, and gave her wooden shoes to wear.

"Just look now at the proud princess, how she is decked out!" cried they laughing, and then they sent her into the kitchen. There she was obliged to do heavy work from morning to night, get up early in the morning, draw water, make the fires, cook, and wash. Besides that, the sisters did their utmost to torment her, — mocking her, and strewing peas and lentils among the ashes, and setting her to pick them up. In the evenings, when she was quite tired out with her hard day's work, she had no bed to lie on, but was obliged to rest on the hearth among the cinders. And as she always looked dusty and dirty, they named her Aschenputtel.

It happened one day that the father went to the fair, and he asked his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them.

"Fine clothes!" said one.

"Pearls and jewels!" said the other.

"But what will you have, Aschenputtel?" said he.

"The first twig, father, that strikes against your hat on the way home; that is what I should like you to bring me."

So he bought for the two step-daughters fine clothes, pearls, and jewels, and on his way back, as he rode through a green lane, a hazel-twig struck against his hat, and he broke it off and carried it home with him. And when he reached home, he gave to the step-daughters what they had wished for, and to Aschenputtel he gave the hazel-twig. She thanked him, and went to her mother's grave, and planted this twig there, weeping so bitterly that the tears fell upon it and watered it, and it flourished and became a fine tree. Aschenputtel went to see it three times a day, and wept and prayed, and each time a white bird rose up from the tree, and if she uttered any wish, the bird brought her whatever she had wished for.

Now it came to pass that the king ordained a festival that should last for three days and to which all the beautiful young women of that country were bidden so that the king's son might choose a bride from among them. When the two step-daughters heard that they too were bidden to appear, they felt very pleased, and they called Aschenputtel and said, "Comb our hair, brush our shoes, and make our buckles fast; we are going to the wedding feast at the king's castle."

Aschenputtel, when she heard this, could not help crying for she too would have liked to go to the dance, and she begged her step-mother to allow her.

"What, you, Aschenputtel!" said she. "In all your dust and dirt, you want to go to the festival! You that have no dress and no shoes! You want to dance!"

But as she persisted in asking, at last the step-mother said, "I have strewed a dish-full of lentils in the ashes, and if you can pick them all up again in two hours, you may go with us."

Then the maiden went to the back-door that led into the garden and called out,

O gentle doves, O turtle-doves,
And all the birds that be,
The lentils that in ashes lie
Come and pick up for me!
The good must be put in the dish;
The bad you may eat if you wish.

Then there came to the kitchen-window two white doves, and after them some turtle-doves, and at last a crowd of all the birds under heaven, chirping and fluttering, and they alighted among the ashes, and the doves nodded with their heads and began to pick, peck, pick, peck, and then all the others began to pick, peck, pick, peck and put all the good grains into the dish. Before an hour was over all was done, and they flew away.

Then the maiden brought the dish to her step-mother, feeling joyful and thinking that now she should go to the feast, but the step-mother said, "No, Aschenputtel, you have no proper clothes, and you do not know how to dance, and you would be laughed at!"

And when Aschenputtel cried for disappointment, she added, "If you can pick two dishes full of lentils out of the ashes, nice and clean, you shall go with us," thinking to herself, "for that is not possible."

Next: Aschenputtel (cont.)

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(900 words)

Grimm: Aschenputtel (cont.)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Otto Ubbelohde)

Aschenputtel (cont.)

When she had strewed two dishes full of lentils among the ashes the maiden went through the back-door into the garden, and cried,

O gentle doves, O turtle-doves,
And all the birds that be,
The lentils that in ashes lie
Come and pick up for me!
The good must be put in the dish,
The bad you may eat if you wish.

So there came to the kitchen-window two white doves, and then some turtle-doves, and at last a crowd of all the other birds under heaven, chirping and fluttering, and they alighted among the ashes, and the doves nodded with their heads and began to pick, peck, pick, peck and then all the others began to pick, peck, pick, peck and put all the good grains into the dish. And before half-an-hour was over it was all done, and they flew away.

Then the maiden took the dishes to the step-mother, feeling joyful and thinking that now she should go with them to the feast, but she said, "All this is of no good to you; you cannot come with us, for you have no proper clothes, and cannot dance; you would put us to shame."

Then she turned her back on poor Aschenputtel and made haste to set out with her two proud daughters.

And as there was no one left in the house, Aschenputtel went to her mother's grave, under the hazel bush, and cried,

Little tree, little tree,
shake over me,
That silver and gold
may come down and cover me.

Then the bird threw down a dress of gold and silver, and a pair of slippers embroidered with silk and silver. And in all haste she put on the dress and went to the festival.

But her step-mother and sisters did not know her and thought she must be a foreign princess, she looked so beautiful in her golden dress. Of Aschenputtel they never thought at all and supposed that she was sitting at home and picking the lentils out of the ashes.

The King's son came to meet her, and took her by the hand, and danced with her, and he refused to stand up with any one else so that he might not be obliged to let go her hand, and when any one came to claim it he answered, "She is my partner."

And when the evening came, she wanted to go home, but the prince said he would go with her to take care of her for he wanted to see where the beautiful maiden lived. But she escaped him and jumped up into the pigeon-house.

Then the prince waited until the father came and told him the strange maiden had jumped into the pigeon-house.

The father thought to himself, "It cannot surely be Aschenputtel," and called for axes and hatchets, and had the pigeon-house cut down, but there was no one in it.

And when they entered the house, there sat Aschenputtel in her dirty clothes among the cinders, and a little oil-lamp burnt dimly in the chimney, for Aschenputtel had been very quick, and had jumped out of the pigeon-house again, and had run to the hazel bush, and there she had taken off her beautiful dress and had laid it on the grave, and the bird had carried it away again, and then she had put on her little gray kirtle again and had sat down in the kitchen among the cinders.

The next day, when the festival began anew, and the parents and step-sisters had gone to it, Aschenputtel went to the hazel bush and cried,

Little tree, little tree,
shake over me,
That silver and gold
may come down and cover me.

Then the bird cast down a still more splendid dress than on the day before. And when she appeared in it among the guests, everyone was astonished at her beauty. The prince had been waiting until she came, and he took her hand and danced with her alone. And when any one else came to invite her, he said, "She is my partner."

And when the evening came, she wanted to go home, and the prince followed her for he wanted to see to what house she belonged, but she broke away from him and ran into the garden at the back of the house. There stood a fine large tree, bearing splendid pears; she leapt as lightly as a squirrel among the branches, and the prince did not know what had become of her. So he waited until the father came, and then he told him that the strange maiden had rushed from him and that he thought she had gone up into the pear-tree.

The father thought to himself, "It cannot surely be Aschenputtel," and called for an axe, and felled the tree, but there was no one in it.

And when they went into the kitchen, there sat Aschenputtel among the cinders, as usual, for she had got down the other side of the tree, and had taken back her beautiful clothes to the bird on the hazel bush, and had put on her old gray kirtle again.

Next: Aschenputtel (end)

(900 words)

Grimm: Aschenputtel (end)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

Aschenputtel (end)

On the third day, when the parents and the step-children had set off, Aschenputtel went again to her mother's grave, and said to the tree,

Little tree, little tree,
shake over me,
That silver and gold
may come down and cover me.

Then the bird cast down a dress, the like of which had never been seen for splendour and brilliancy, and slippers that were of gold. And when she appeared in this dress at the feast nobody knew what to say for wonderment. The prince danced with her alone, and if any one else asked her, he answered, "She is my partner."

And when it was evening, Aschenputtel wanted to go home, and the prince was about to go with her when she ran past him so quickly that he could not follow her. But he had laid a plan and had caused all the steps to be spread with pitch so that as she rushed down them, the left shoe of the maiden remained sticking in it. The prince picked it up and saw that it was of gold, and very small and slender.

The next morning, he went to the father and told him that none should be his bride save the one whose foot the golden shoe should fit. Then the two sisters were very glad because they had pretty feet. The eldest went to her room to try on the shoe, and her mother stood by. But she could not get her great toe into it, for the shoe was too small; then her mother handed her a knife and said, "Cut the toe off, for when you are queen, you will never have to go on foot."

So the girl cut her toe off, squeezed her foot into the shoe, concealed the pain, and went down to the prince. Then he took her with him on his horse as his bride and rode off. They had to pass by the grave, and there sat the two pigeons on the hazel bush and cried,

There they go, there they go!
There is blood on her shoe;
The shoe is too small, —
Not the right bride at all!

Then the prince looked at her shoe and saw the blood flowing. And he turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, saying she was not the right one, and that the other sister must try on the shoe.

So, she went into her room to do so and got her toes comfortably in, but her heel was too large. Then her mother handed her the knife, saying, "Cut a piece off your heel; when you are queen, you will never have to go on foot."

So the girl cut a piece off her heel and thrust her foot into the shoe, concealed the pain, and went down to the prince, who took his bride before him on his horse and rode off. When they passed by the hazel bush the two pigeons sat there and cried,

There they go, there they go!
There is blood on her shoe;
The shoe is too small, —
Not the right bride at all!"

Then the prince looked at her foot and saw how the blood was flowing from the shoe and staining the white stocking. And he turned his horse round and brought the false bride home again.

"This is not the right one," said he; "have you no other daughter?"

"No," said the man, "only my dead wife left behind her a little stunted Aschenputtel; it is impossible that she can be the bride."

But the King's son ordered her to be sent for, but the mother said, "Oh no! She is much too dirty; I could not let her be seen."

But he would have her fetched, and so Aschenputtel had to appear.

First she washed her face and hands quite clean, and went in and curtseyed to the prince, who held out to her the golden shoe. Then she sat down on a stool, drew her foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and slipped it into the golden one, which fitted it perfectly. And when she stood up, and the prince looked in her face, he knew again the beautiful maiden that had danced with him, and he cried, "This is the right bride!"

The step-mother and the two sisters were thunderstruck and grew pale with anger, but he put Aschenputtel before him on his horse and rode off. And as they passed the hazel bush, the two white pigeons cried,

There they go, there they go!
No blood on her shoe;
The shoe's not too small:
The right bride is she after all.

And when they had thus cried, they came flying after and perched on Aschenputtel's shoulders —  one on the right, the other on the left — and so remained.

And when her wedding with the prince was appointed to be held, the false sisters came, hoping to curry favour and to take part in the festivities. So, as the bridal procession went to the church, the eldest walked on the right side and the younger on the left, and the pigeons picked out an eye of each of them. And as they returned the elder was on the left side and the younger on the right, and the pigeons picked out the other eye of each of them. And so they were condemned to go blind for the rest of their days because of their wickedness and falsehood.

Next: The Robber Bridegroom

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(900 words)

Grimm: The Robber Bridegroom

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

The Robber Bridegroom

There was once a miller who had a beautiful daughter, and when she was grown up, he became anxious that she should be well married and taken care of, so he thought, "If a decent sort of man comes and asks her in marriage, I will give her to him."

Soon after a suitor came forward who seemed very well to do, and as the miller knew nothing to his disadvantage, he promised him his daughter. But the girl did not seem to love him as a bride should love her bridegroom: she had no confidence in him; as often as she saw him or thought about him, she felt a chill at her heart.

One day he said to her, "You are to be my bride, and yet you have never been to see me."

The girl answered, "I do not know where your house is."

Then he said, "My house is a long way in the wood."

She began to make excuses and said she could not find the way to it, but the bridegroom said, "You must come and pay me a visit next Sunday; I have already invited company, and I will strew ashes on the path through the wood so that you will be sure to find it."

When Sunday came, and the girl set out on her way, she felt very uneasy without knowing exactly why, and she filled both pockets full of peas and lentils. There were ashes strewed on the path through the wood, but, nevertheless, at each step she cast to the right and left a few peas on the ground.

(illustration by Walter Crane)

So she went on the whole day until she came to the middle of the wood, where it was the darkest, and there stood a lonely house, not pleasant in her eyes, for it was dismal and unhomelike. She walked in, but there was no one there, and the greatest stillness reigned.

Suddenly she heard a voice cry,

Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For here do evil things betide."

The girl glanced round and perceived that the voice came from a bird who was hanging in a cage by the wall. And again it cried,

Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For here do evil things betide.

Then the pretty bride went on from one room into another through the whole house, but it was quite empty, and no soul to be found in it.

At last she reached the cellar, and there sat a very old woman nodding her head.

"Can you tell me," said the bride, "if my bridegroom lives here?"

"Oh, poor child," answered the old woman, "do you know what has happened to you? You are in a place of cut-throats. You thought you were a bride, and soon to be married, but death will be your spouse. Look here, I have a great kettle of water to set on, and when once they have you in their power, they will cut you in pieces without mercy, cook you, and eat you, for they are cannibals. Unless I have pity on you and save you, all is over with you!"

Then the old woman hid her behind a great cask, where she could not be seen.

"Be as still as a mouse," said she; "do not move or go away, or else you are lost. At night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape. I have been waiting a long time for an opportunity."

Next: The Robber Bridegroom (cont.)

(600 words)

Grimm: The Robber Bridegroom (cont.)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

The Robber Bridegroom (cont.)

No sooner was it settled than the wicked gang entered the house. They brought another young woman with them, dragging her along, and they were drunk and would not listen to her cries and groans. They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full, one of white wine, one of red, and one of yellow, and then they cut her in pieces. The poor bride all the while was shaking and trembling when she saw what a fate the robbers had intended for her.

One of them noticed on the little finger of their victim a golden ring, and as he could not draw it off easily, he took an axe and chopped it off, but the finger jumped away and fell behind the cask on the bride's lap. The robber took up a light to look for it, but he could not find it.

Then said one of the others, "Have you looked behind the great cask?"

But the old woman cried, "Come to supper and leave off looking till to-morrow; the finger cannot run away."

Then the robbers said the old woman was right, and they left off searching and sat down to eat, and the old woman dropped some sleeping stuff into their wine so that before long they stretched themselves on the cellar floor, sleeping and snoring.

When the bride heard that, she came from behind the cask and had to make her way among the sleepers lying all about on the ground, and she felt very much afraid lest she might awaken any of them. But by good luck she passed through, and the old woman with her, and they opened the door, and they made all haste to leave that house of murderers.

The wind had carried away the ashes from the path, but the peas and lentils had budded and sprung up, and the moonshine upon them showed the way. And they went on through the night till in the morning they reached the mill. Then the girl related to her father all that had happened to her.

When the wedding-day came, the friends and neighbours assembled, the miller having invited them, and the bridegroom also appeared. When they were all seated at table, each one had to tell a story.

But the bride sat still, and said nothing, till at last the bridegroom said to her, "Now, sweetheart, do you know no story? Tell us something."

She answered, "I will tell you my dream. I was going alone through a wood, and I came at last to a house in which there was no living soul, but by the wall was a bird in a cage, who cried,

Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For evil things do here betide.

"And then again it said it. Sweetheart, the dream is not ended.

"Then I went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and it was so lonely and wretched. At last I went down into the cellar, and there sat an old old woman, nodding her head. I asked her if my bridegroom lived in that house, and she answered, 'Ah, poor child, you have come into a place of cut-throats; your bridegroom does live here, but he will kill you and cut you in pieces, and then cook and eat you.' Sweetheart, the dream is not ended.

"But the old woman hid me behind a great cask, and no sooner had she done so than the robbers came home, dragging with them a young woman, and they gave her to drink wine thrice, white, red, and yellow. Sweetheart, the dream is not yet ended.

"And then they killed her, and cut her in pieces. Sweetheart, my dream is not yet ended.

"And one of the robbers saw a gold ring on the finger of the young woman, and as it was difficult to get off, he took an axe and chopped off the finger, which jumped upwards and then fell behind the great cask on my lap.

"And here is the finger with the ring!"

At these words she drew it forth, and showed it to the company.

The robber, who during the story had grown deadly white, sprang up and would have escaped, but the folks held him fast and delivered him up to justice. And he and his whole gang were, for their evil deeds, condemned and executed.

Next: The Six Swans

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(700 words)

Grimm: The Six Swans

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

The Six Swans

Once on a time a king was hunting in a great wood, and he pursued a wild animal so eagerly that none of his people could follow him. When evening came, he stood still and, looking round him, he found that he had lost his way, and seeking a path, he found none. Then all at once he saw an old woman with a nodding head coming up to him, and it was a witch.

"My good woman," said he, "can you show me the way out of the wood?"

"Oh yes, my lord king," answered she, "certainly I can, but I must make a condition, and if you do not fulfil it, you will never get out of the wood again, but die there of hunger."

"What is the condition?" asked the king.

"I have a daughter," said the old woman, "who is as fair as any in the world, and if you will take her for your bride and make her queen, I will show you the way out of the wood."

The king consented because of the difficulty he was in, and the old woman led him into her little house, and there her daughter was sitting by the fire.

She received the king just as if she had been expecting him, and though he saw that she was very beautiful, she did not please him, and he could not look at her without an inward shudder. Nevertheless, he took the maiden before him on his horse, and the old woman showed him the way, and soon he was in his royal castle again, where the wedding was held.

The king had been married before, and his first wife had left seven children, six boys and one girl, whom he loved better than all the world, and as he was afraid the step-mother might not behave well to them, and perhaps would do them some mischief, he took them to a lonely castle standing in the middle of a wood. There they remained hidden, for the road to it was so hard to find that the king himself could not have found it had it not been for a clew of yarn possessing wonderful properties that a wise woman had given him; when he threw it down before him, it unrolled itself and showed him the way.

And the king went so often to see his dear children that the queen was displeased at his absence, and she became curious and wanted to know what he went out into the wood for so often alone. She bribed his servants with much money, and they showed her the secret, and told her of the clew of yarn, which alone could point out the way; then she gave herself no rest until she had found out where the king kept the clew, and then she made some little white silk shirts and sewed a charm in each, as she had learned witchcraft of her mother.

And once when the king had ridden to the hunt, she took the little shirts and went into the wood, and the clew of yarn showed her the way. The children, seeing someone in the distance, thought it was their dear father coming to see them and came jumping for joy to meet him. Then the wicked queen threw over each child one of the little shirts, and as soon as the shirts touched their bodies, they were changed into swans and flew away through the wood.

So the queen went home, very pleased to think she had got rid of her step-children, but the maiden had not run out with her brothers, and so the queen knew nothing about her.

The next day the king went to see his children, but he found nobody but his daughter.

"Where are thy brothers?" asked the king.

"Ah, dear father," answered she, "they are gone away and have left me behind," and then she told him how she had seen from her window her brothers in the guise of swans fly away through the wood, and she showed him the feathers which they had let fall in the courtyard and which she had picked up.

The king was grieved, but he never dreamt that it was the queen who had done this wicked deed, and as he feared lest the maiden also should be stolen away from him, he wished to take her away with him. But she was afraid of the step-mother and begged the king to let her remain one more night in the castle in the wood.

Then she said to herself, "I must stay here no longer, but go and seek for my brothers."

Next: The Six Swans (cont.)

(800 words)

Grimm: The Six Swans (cont.)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

The Six Swans (cont.)

And when the night came, she fled away and went straight into the wood. She went on all that night and the next day until she could go no longer for weariness. At last she saw a rude hut, and she went in and found a room with six little beds in it; she did not dare to lie down in one, but she crept under one and lay on the hard boards and wished for night.

When it was near the time of sun-setting, she heard a rustling sound and saw six swans come flying in at the window. They alighted on the ground and blew at one another until they had blown all their feathers off, and then they stripped off their swan-skin as if it had been a shirt. And the maiden looked at them and knew them for her brothers, and was very glad, and crept from under the bed. The brothers were not less glad when their sister appeared, but their joy did not last long.

"You must not stay here," said they to her; "this is a robbers' haunt, and if they were to come and find you here, they would kill you."

"And cannot you defend me?" asked the little sister.

"No," answered they, "for we can only get rid of our swan-skins and keep our human shape every evening for a quarter of an hour, but after that we must be changed again into swans."

Their sister wept at hearing this, and said, "Can nothing be done to set you free?"

"Oh no," answered they, "the work would be too hard for you. For six whole years you would be obliged never to speak or laugh, and make during that time six little shirts out of aster-flowers. If you were to let fall a single word before the work was ended, all would be of no good."

And just as the brothers had finished telling her this, the quarter of an hour came to an end, and they changed into swans and flew out of the window.

But the maiden made up her mind to set her brothers free, even though it should cost her her life. She left the hut and, going into the middle of the wood, she climbed a tree, and there passed the night. The next morning she set to work and gathered asters and began sewing them together; as for speaking, there was no one to speak to, and as for laughing, she had no mind to it; so she sat on and looked at nothing but her work.

When she had been going on like this for a long time, it happened that the king of that country went a-hunting in the wood, and some of his huntsmen came up to the tree in which the maiden sat. They called out to her, saying, "Who art thou?"

But she gave no answer.

"Come down," cried they; "we will do thee no harm."

But she only shook her head.

And when they tormented her further with questions, she threw down to them her gold necklace, hoping they would be content with that. But they would not leave off, so she threw down to them her girdle, and when that was no good, her garters, and one after another everything she had on and could possibly spare, until she had nothing left but her smock.

But all was no good; the huntsmen would not be put off any longer, and they climbed the tree, carried the maiden off, and brought her to the king.

The king asked, "Who art thou? What wert thou doing in the tree?" But she answered nothing.

He spoke to her in all the languages he knew, but she remained dumb, but, being very beautiful, the king inclined to her, and he felt a great love rise up in his heart towards her, and, casting his mantle round her, he put her before him on his horse and brought her to his castle.

Then he caused rich clothing to be put upon her, and her beauty shone as bright as the morning, but no word would she utter. He seated her by his side at table, and her modesty and gentle mien so pleased him, that he said, "This maiden I choose for wife, and no other in all the world," and accordingly, after a few days, they were married.

Next: The Six Swans (end)

(700 words)

Grimm: The Six Swans (end)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

The Six Swans (end)

But the king had a wicked mother who was displeased with the marriage and spoke ill of the young queen.

"Who knows where the maid can have come from?" said she; "and not able to speak a word! She is not worthy of a king!"

After a year had passed, and the queen brought her first child into the world, the old woman carried it away and marked the queen's mouth with blood as she lay sleeping. Then she went to the king and declared that his wife was an eater of human flesh.

The king would not believe such a thing and ordered that no one should do her any harm. And the queen went on quietly sewing the shirts and caring for nothing else.

The next time that a fine boy was born, the wicked step-mother used the same deceit, but the king would give no credence to her words, for he said, "She is too tender and good to do any such thing, and if she were only not dumb and could justify herself, then her innocence would be as clear as day."

When for the third time the old woman stole away the new-born child and accused the queen, who was unable to say a word in her defence, the king could do no other but give her up to justice, and she was sentenced to suffer death by fire.

The day on which her sentence was to be carried out was the very last one of the sixth year of the years during which she had neither spoken nor laughed to free her dear brothers from the evil spell. The six shirts were ready, all except one which wanted the left sleeve. And when she was led to the pile of wood, she carried the six shirts on her arm, and when she mounted the pile and the fire was about to be kindled, all at once she cried out aloud, for there were six swans coming flying through the air, and she saw that her deliverance was near, and her heart beat for joy.

The swans came close up to her with rushing wings and stooped round her so that she could throw the shirts over them, and when that had been done, the swan-skins fell off them, and her brothers stood before her in their own bodies quite safe and sound, but as one shirt wanted the left sleeve, so the youngest brother had a swan's wing instead of a left arm.

They embraced and kissed each other, and the queen went up to the king, who looked on full of astonishment, and began to speak to him and to say, "Dearest husband, now I may dare to speak and tell you that I am innocent and have been falsely accused," and she related to him the treachery of the step-mother, who had taken away the three children and hidden them. And she was reconciled to the king with great joy, and the wicked step-mother was bound to the stake on the pile of wood and burnt to ashes.

And the king and queen lived many years with their six brothers in peace and joy.

Next: King Thrushbeard

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(500 words)

Grimm: King Thrushbeard

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

King Thrushbeard

A king had a daughter who was beautiful beyond measure but so proud and overbearing that none of her suitors were good enough for her; she not only refused one after the other but made a laughing-stock of them.

Once the king appointed a great feast and bade all the marriageable men to it from far and near. And they were all put in rows, according to their rank and station; first came the kings, then the princes, the dukes, the earls, the barons, and lastly the noblemen. The princess was led in front of the rows, but she had a mocking epithet for each. One was too fat, "What a tub!" said she. Another too tall, "Long and lean is ill to be seen," said she. A third too short, "Fat and short, not fit to court," said she. A fourth was too pale, "A regular death's-head;" a fifth too red-faced, "A game-cock," she called him. The sixth was not well-made enough, "Green wood ill dried!" cried she.

So every one had something against him, and she made especially merry over a good king who was very tall and whose chin had grown a little peaked.

"Only look," cried she, laughing; "he has a chin like a thrush's beak."

And from that time they called him King Thrushbeard. But the old king, when he saw that his daughter mocked every one and scorned all the assembled suitors, swore in his anger that she should have the first beggar that came to the door for a husband.

A few days afterwards came a travelling ballad-singer and sang under the window in hopes of a small alms. When the king heard of it, he said that he must come in. And so the ballad-singer entered in his dirty tattered garments and sang before the king and his daughter; when he had done, he asked for a small reward. But the king said, "Thy song has so well pleased me that I will give thee my daughter to wife."

(illustration by Otto Ubbelohde)

The princess was horrified, but the king said, "I took an oath to give you to the first beggar that came, and so it must be done."

There was no remedy. The priest was fetched, and she had to be married to the ballad-singer out of hand.

When all was done, the king said, "Now, as you are a beggar-wife, you can stay no longer in my castle, so off with you and your husband."

The beggar-man led her away, and she was obliged to go forth with him on foot. On the way they came to a great wood, and she asked,

Oh, whose is this forest,
so thick and so fine?"

He answered,

It is King Thrushbeard's
and might have been thine."

And she cried,

Oh, I was a silly young thing, I'm afeared,
Would I had taken that good King Thrushbeard!

Then they passed through a meadow, and she asked,

Oh, whose is this meadow,
so green and so fine?

He answered,

It is King Thrushbeard's
and might have been thine.

And she cried,

I was a silly young thing, I'm afeared,
Would I had taken that good King Thrushbeard!

Then they passed through a great town, and she asked,

Whose is this city,
so great and so fine?"

He answered,

Oh, it is King Thrushbeard's
and might have been thine."

And she cried,

I was a silly young thing, I'm afeared,
Would I had taken that good King Thrushbeard!

Then said the beggar-man, "It does not please me to hear you always wishing for another husband; am I not good enough for you?"

At last they came to a very small house, and she said,

Oh dear me! What poor little house do I see?
And whose, I would know, may the wretched hole be?

The man answered, "That is my house and thine, where we must live together."

She had to stoop before she could go in at the door.

"Where are the servants?" asked the king's daughter.

"What servants?" answered the beggar-man. "What you want to have done, you must do yourself. Make a fire quick, and put on water, and cook me some food; I am very tired."

Next: King Thrushbeard (cont.)

(700 words)

Grimm: King Thrushbeard (cont.)

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

King Thrushbeard (cont.)

But the king's daughter understood nothing about fire-making and cooking, and the beggar-man had to lend a hand himself in order to manage it at all. And when they had eaten their poor fare, they went to bed, but the man called up his wife very early in the morning in order to clean the house. For a few days they lived in this indifferent manner, until they came to the end of their store.

"Wife," said the man, "this will not do, stopping here and earning nothing; you must make baskets."

So he went out, and cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave them, but the hard twigs wounded her tender hands.

"I see this will not do," said the man; "you had better try spinning."

So she sat her down and tried to spin, but the harsh thread cut her soft fingers, so that the blood flowed.

"Look now!" said the man; "you are no good at any sort of work; I made a bad bargain when I took you. I must see what I can do to make a trade of pots and earthen vessels; you can sit in the market and offer them for sale."

"Oh dear!" thought she, "suppose while I am selling in the market people belonging to my father's kingdom should see me — how they would mock at me!"

But there was no help for it; she had to submit, or else die of hunger.

The first day all went well; the people bought her wares eagerly because she was so beautiful, and gave her whatever she asked, and some of them gave her the money and left the pots after all behind them. And they lived on these earnings as long as they lasted, and then the man bought a number of new pots.

So she seated herself in a corner of the market and stood the wares before her for sale. All at once a drunken horse-soldier came plunging by and rode straight into the midst of her pots, breaking them into a thousand pieces. She could do nothing for weeping.

(illustration by Walter Crane)

"Oh dear, what will become of me," cried she; "what will my husband say?" and she hastened home and told him her misfortune.

"Who ever heard of such a thing as sitting in the corner of the market with earthenware pots!" said the man. "Now leave off crying; I see you are not fit for any regular work. I have been asking at your father's castle if they want a kitchen-maid, and they say they don't mind taking you; at any rate, you will get your victuals free."

And the king's daughter became a kitchen-maid, to be at the cook's beck and call and to do the hardest work. In each of her pockets she fastened a little pot and brought home in them whatever was left, and upon that she and her husband were fed.

It happened one day, when the wedding of the eldest prince was celebrated, the poor woman went upstairs and stood by the parlour door to see what was going on. And when the place was lighted up, and the company arrived, each person handsomer than the one before, and all was brilliancy and splendour, she thought on her own fate with a sad heart and bewailed her former pride and haughtiness which had brought her so low, and plunged her in so great poverty. And as the rich and delicate dishes, smelling so good, were carried to and fro every now and then, the servants would throw her a few fragments, which she put in her pockets, intending to take home.

And then the prince himself passed, clothed in silk and velvet with a gold chain round his neck. And when he saw the beautiful woman standing in the doorway, he seized her hand and urged her to dance with him, but she refused, all trembling, for she saw it was King Thrushbeard, who had come to court her and whom she had turned away with mocking.

It was of no use her resisting; he drew her into the room, and all at once the band to which her pockets were fastened broke, and the pots fell out, and the soup ran about, and the fragments were scattered all round. And when the people saw that, there was great laughter and mocking, and she felt so ashamed that she wished herself a thousand fathoms underground.

She rushed to the door to fly from the place when a man caught her just on the steps, and when she looked at him, it was King Thrushbeard again.

He said to her in a kind tone, "Do not be afraid. I and the beggar-man with whom you lived in the wretched little hut are one. For love of you I disguised myself, and it was I who broke your pots in the guise of a horse-soldier. I did all that to bring down your proud heart and to punish your haughtiness, which caused you to mock at me."

Then she wept bitterly, and said, "I have done great wrong and am not worthy to be your wife."

But he said, "Take courage: the evil days are gone over; now let us keep our wedding-day."

Then came the ladies-in-waiting and put on her splendid clothing, and her father came and the whole court, and wished her joy on her marriage with King Thrushbeard, and then the merry-making began in good earnest. I cannot help wishing that you and I could have been there too.

Next: The Three Spinsters

(900 words)

Grimm: The Three Spinsters

This story is part of the Brothers Grimm (Crane) unit. Story source: Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm, translated by Lucy Crane and illustrated by Walter Crane (1886).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

The Three Spinsters

There was once a girl who was lazy and would not spin, and her mother could not persuade her to it, do what she would. At last the mother became angry and out of patience, and gave her a good beating, so that she cried out loudly.

At that moment the Queen was going by; as she heard the crying, she stopped and, going into the house, she asked the mother why she was beating her daughter, so that every one outside in the street could hear her cries.

The woman was ashamed to tell of her daughter's laziness, so she said, "I cannot stop her from spinning; she is forever at it, and I am poor and cannot furnish her with flax enough."

Then the Queen answered, "I like nothing better than the sound of the spinning-wheel and always feel happy when I hear its humming; let me take your daughter with me to the castle — I have plenty of flax; she shall spin there to her heart's content."

The mother was only too glad of the offer, and the Queen took the girl with her. When they reached the castle, the Queen showed her three rooms which were filled with the finest flax as full as they could hold.

"Now you can spin me this flax," said she, "and when you can show it me all done, you shall have my eldest son for bridegroom; you may be poor, but I make nothing of that — your industry is dowry enough."

The girl was inwardly terrified for she could not have spun the flax, even if she were to live to be a hundred years old and were to sit spinning every day of her life from morning to evening. And when she found herself alone, she began to weep, and sat so for three days without putting her hand to it.

On the third day the Queen came, and when she saw that nothing had been done of the spinning, she was much surprised, but the girl excused herself by saying that she had not been able to begin because of the distress she was in at leaving her home and her mother. The excuse contented the Queen, who said, however, as she went away, "Tomorrow you must begin to work."

When the girl found herself alone again, she could not tell how to help herself or what to do, and in her perplexity she went and gazed out of the window. There she saw three women passing by, and the first of them had a broad flat foot, the second had a big under-lip that hung down over her chin, and the third had a remarkably broad thumb. They all of them stopped in front of the window and called out to know what it was that the girl wanted.

She told them all her need, and they promised her their help and said, "Then will you invite us to your wedding, and not be ashamed of us, and call us your cousins, and let us sit at your table; if you will promise this, we will finish off your flax-spinning in a very short time."

"With all my heart," answered the girl; "only come in now and begin at once."

Then these same women came in, and she cleared a space in the first room for them to sit and carry on their spinning. The first one drew out the thread and moved the treadle that turned the wheel, the second moistened the thread, the third twisted it and rapped with her finger on the table, and as often as she rapped, a heap of yarn fell to the ground, and it was most beautifully spun.

But the girl hid the three spinsters out of the Queen's sight and only showed her, as often as she came, the heaps of well-spun yarn, and there was no end to the praises she received. When the first room was empty they went on to the second, and then to the third, so that at last all was finished.

Then the three women took their leave, saying to the girl, "Do not forget what you have promised, and it will be all the better for you."

So when the girl took the Queen and showed her the empty rooms and the great heaps of yarn, the wedding was at once arranged, and the bridegroom rejoiced that he should have so clever and diligent a wife, and praised her exceedingly.

"I have three cousins," said the girl, "and as they have shown me a great deal of kindness, I would not wish to forget them in my good fortune; may I be allowed to invite them to the wedding and to ask them to sit at the table with us?"

The Queen and the bridegroom said at once, "There is no reason against it."

So when the feast began in came the three spinsters in strange guise, and the bride said, "Dear cousins, you are welcome."

"Oh," said the bridegroom, "how come you to have such dreadfully ugly relations?"

And then he went up to the first spinster and said, "How is it that you have such a broad flat foot?"

"With treading," answered she, "with treading."

Then he went up to the second and said, "How is it that you have such a great hanging lip?"

"With licking," answered she, "with licking."

Then he asked the third, "How is it that you have such a broad thumb?"

"With twisting thread," answered she, "with twisting thread."

Then the bridegroom said that from that time forward his beautiful bride should never touch a spinning-wheel.

And so she escaped that tiresome flax-spinning.

Next: Snow-White

(illustration by Walter Crane)

(1000 words)