This amusing tale by the Brothers Grimm tells the tale of a boy whose parents called him “Dummy”. But he can’t have been all that much of a dummy, because he found a golden goose and made all the grandest people of the local town look like fools. Dummy’s secret strength was that he had a kind heart - but few others rated that highly.

But if you are expecting this goose to lay a golden egg, please don’t be disappointed. It’s value, according to the Brothers Grimm, is in its golden feathers.

The Golden Goose has a few features in common with the English tale, Lazy Jack, and we think that if you like one, you’ll enjoy the other !

Read by Natasha. Duration 14.56.

Once upon a time, there lived a wood-cutter and his wife who had three sons. The eldest two were strong and tall, and their mother and father were always telling them how handsome and clever they were. But the youngest son was, to tell you the truth, just a bit simple in the head. He wasn’t very tall, and he wasn’t very strong, and his family thought he was good for nothing. They hardly ever called him by his real name, but instead they gave him a cruel nickname. They called him Dummy, because they said he was stupid.

One day the eldest son wanted to go to the forest to cut wood. The mother praised him for being such a useful boy and before he set out, she gave him some of her best fruit cake for his lunch, and a bottle of wine to wash it down. While the boy was walking through the forest, he met a little grey old man who said to him:

“Do give me a little piece of you cake and a swig of your wine. I’m so terribly hungry and thirsty.”
And the eldest son replied;

“Be off with you, you filthy old beggar. “

And the little grey old man went away, but not without taking his revenge. He put a curse on the boy, so that when he started to cut a tree down, his axe slipped and went into his leg. The boy limped home to his mother who washed his wound and bandaged him.

The next day, the second eldest son went out to the forest to cut wood. Before he set out, his mother praised him for being such a useful boy, but especially asked him to be careful with the axe, so as not to have a nasty accident like his brother. The boy promised to not to be careless, and his mother gave him some of her best sponge cake for his lunch, and a bottle of wine to wash it down.

It happened that as the boy was walking through the woods, he came across the same little gray old man. The man said to him, “Do please share your sponge cake and your wine with me, for I am so terribly weak with hunger and thirst.” And the boy said;

“Be off with you, you lazy old scoundrel. If you want to eat, you’d better work.”

And the little grey old man went away, but not without taking his revenge. Not long after, when the boy was cutting down a tree, his axe flew out of his hand and hit him on the head. He crawled home to his mother who bandaged up his wound and asked him why he had not kept his promise to be more careful.

For the rest of the week, the two eldest sons were both lying in bed recovering from their wounds. The father said to the third and youngest son:

“Get on your feet, you lazy Dummy, why are you sitting around doing nothing, when both brothers are hurt and unable to work? Get out to the forest and cut some wood – if you’re not too stupid to do that.”

The mother laughed at him and said, “It’s more than likely that Dummy will cut his own head off – but it won’t be much of loss to anyone.” And before he left she gave him some cake that she had burnt almost to a crust in the oven, and a bottle of sour beer to wash it down.

As the youngest boy was going through the woods, he met the same little gray old man who had crossed the path of his brothers. The man said to him:

“Do please share some of your cake and beer with me. I am so terribly hungry and thirsty, and I fear that if I don’t have something to eat and drink soon, I will surely die”
The young boy replied;

“Old man, I will gladly share with you what I have. But the cake is burned and the beer is sour.”
“Never mind that,” said the man. “I am grateful for what you can give me.”

And the boy and the little gray old man sat down and shared the cake and the beer. After they had finished their lunch, the man said:

“Since you have a good heart, and have shared what you have with me, I will give you a reward. You see that old tree over there. Cut it down with your axe and you will find something of value inside its hollow trunk.”

And so when the little gray old man had left, the young boy, whose parents called him “Dummy”, took his axe and cut down the hollow tree just as he had been told. Inside he found a goose – but this was no ordinary bird – for its feathers were made of gold.

The boy realised that he was in luck, and thought to himself: “Why should I go home now and suffer the insults of my parents and brothers? They will take this valuable bird from me, and I shall have nothing.”

And so the boy decided to run away from home. He put the golden goose under his arm and set out for the town. Then he went to the inn, intending to stay there. He stood at the bar and asked the innkeeper if he would accept a golden feather as payment for his board and lodgings. When the innkeeper, saw the golden goose, he readily agreed. But after the boy had gone to bed he said his three daughters:

“That young boy whose parents call him Dummy is staying up in our guest room. But he can’t be a simple in the head as they say – for he’s got a valuable bird with him – a goose with feathers made of gold.”

The eldest daughter thought to herself, “ Well fancy that. Feathers made of gold. I’ll pluck one or maybe more of those for myself.”

After the clock struck midnight, she sneaked into the boy’s room, and saw that he was asleep with his arm around the golden goose. She crept up and tried to pluck a feather. But the feather wouldn’t budge, and when she tried to take her hand away, she found that she was stuck to it. She couldn’t move, and she couldn’t cry out for fear of waking the boy. She had to stay where she was, on her knees by the bead, with her hand on the feather.

After the clock struck one in the morning, the second sister came in the room, planning to take one feather or more for herself. In the dark she didn’t see her sister, but as soon as she touched her back, she found that her hand was stuck fast to her, and she had to say where she was, not moving and not making a sound.

After the clock struck two in the morning, the third sister came in. The other two shouted: “Stay back !” but it was two late, - she reached out hoping to steal a feather and found that her hand was stuck to the middle sister.

The boy and the goose slept soundly through all of this. In the morning the boy got up, paid his bill with a golden feather, and left with inn with the goose under his arm. The sisters had no choice but to follow on behind him. A pretty procession they made.

Along the way they met the Bishop:

“What a sight!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly right for three young women to follow a boy around like that !”

And as the girls went past he tapped the youngest on the shoulder. In doing so he found that he was stuck to her and had to follow.

Further up the road they met a police sergeant. The Bishop called out to him “Sergeant: Help me get free from this young woman’s shoulder. I’m stuck to her and people are bound to start all kind of gossip about it!”

The police sergeant tried to pull the Bishop free, but in doing so he found that both his hands stuck to his waste, and he had to follow along with the procession.

At the top of the road they met the mayor.

‘What’s this town coming to?” cried the mayor. “The Bishop and the police sergeant following three young girls who are following a young boy, all holding on to each other in a most unseemly fashion. Have they gone mad?”

And as he spoke, he tried to pull the police sergeant and the Bishop away – but in doing so he found that he was stuck to both of them, and had to follow on.

The boy and led the little line of townspeople along up the road, and at the top of the hill they passed the Kings Palace. Now the king’s daughter was very beautiful, but she had the saddest face in the whole wide world. She had never laughed and not once even smiled. The king was so troubled by the young princesses’ unhappiness, that he had made a special law. Whosoever could make her laugh and smile would win her hand in marriage.

But the truth was that nothing very funny ever happened inside the Royal Palace. All the kings servants and advisers were far to high and mighty to understand what would make a young girl laugh – or indeed to allow anything amusing to happen at all.

As the boy known as Dummy went past the palace, he still held the golden goose under his arm, and he was followed by the innkeeper’s three daughters, the Bishop, the police sergeant, and the mayor. The princess looked out at saw the important people in their uniforms being tugged along behind three girls and a boy with a goose, and she thought that it was the first thing she had seen in her life that was truly funny. She burst out laughing and ran, still giggling, to her father to tell him all about what she had seen. When the King looked out of his window and saw the procession, he couldn’t help laughing himself. He sent for his guards and told them to bring the boy and his followers directly to him. When the boy entered the King’s chamber, with the followers behind him, the mayor, the Bishop and the policeman all called out angrily that he should pay for his crime with his head. The king, still laughing, said that on the contrary - he would be rewarded with the hand in marriage of his daughter the princess.

For an entire week after that , the inn keepers three daughters, the Bishop, the policeman, and the mayor were all stuck to the gold goose and to one another. And while they were stuck , all the towns people and the whole court laughed and laughed at them.

And the boy whose family called him Dummy married the princess and inherited the kingdom. He lived with his beautiful wife and they had six happy smiling children, and the palace was often filled with laughter.

This is a short and very sweet story about a Christmas gift. In fact it’s one of the very few traditional fairy tales with a Christmas theme.

A poor shoemaker receives some unexpected help just when he needs it most. When it is close to Christmas he and his wife decided to give a gift in return.

It’s by the Brother’s Grimm.

Read by Natasha. Duration 6.18

A shoemaker, by no fault of his own, became so poor that at last he had nothing left but enough leather for one pair of shoes.

So in the evening, he cut the leather into the shape of the shoes, and he left his work on the table to finish in the morning. He lay down quietly in his bed, and before he fell asleep he asked God to help him.

In the morning, just as he was about to sit down to work, he saw the two shoes standing quite finished on his table.

He was astounded, and did not know what to make of it.

He took the shoes in his hands to look at them them more closely and he saw that they were so neatly made that there was not one bad stitch in them. It just as if they were intended as a masterpiece.

Soon after, a customer came in to the shop, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more than the usual price. Now the shoe maker had enough money to buy leather for two pairs of shoes.

That night, he cut out the leather. Next morning he was about to set to work with fresh hope for the future when he saw that the shoes were already made.

There was no shortage of customers who wanted the shoes. The shoemaker soon had enough to buy leather for four pairs of shoes.

The following morning he found the four pairs made; and so it went on. Any leather that he cut out in in the evening was finished by the morning,

Soon he was no longer poor, and he even became quite rich.

Now one evening not long before Christmas, the man finished cutting out the leather as usual. But this time he said to his wife, “Let’s stay up to-night to see who it is that lends us this helping hand?”

The woman liked the idea, and lighted a candle, and then they hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind some clothes which were hanging up there, and watched.

When it was midnight, two little elves came into the room, both without any clothes on, and sat down by the shoemaker’s table. They took all the work which was cut out before them and began to stitch, and sew, and hammer so skillfully and so quickly with their little fingers that the shoemaker could not turn away his eyes for astonishment.

They did not stop until all was done, and stood finished on the table, and then they
ran quickly away.

Next morning the woman said, “The little men have made us rich, and we really must show that we are grateful for it. They run about so, and have nothing on, and must be cold. I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I will make them little shirts, and coats, and vests, and trousers, and knit both of them a pair of stockings, and you can help too - make them two little pairs
of shoes.”

The man said, “I shall be very glad to do it;” and one night, when everything was ready, they laid their presents all together on the table instead of the cut-out work. Then hid themselves to see what the little men would do.

At midnight they came bounding in, and wanted to get to work at once, but as they did not find any leather cut out, but only the pretty little articles of clothing, they were at first puzzled, and then delighted. They dressed themselves very quickly, putting the pretty clothes on, and singing,

“Now we are boys so fine to see,
Why should we longer cobblers be?”

Then they danced and skipped and leapt over chairs and benches. At last they danced out of doors. From that time one they came no more, but as long as the shoemaker lived all went well with him, and all his business prospered.

By the Brothers Grimm In this beautiful story, a princess comes to the rescue of her brothers who have been turned into six swans. A vow of silence leaves her unable to defend herself against the most terrible injustice. She has to contend with not only a wicked step-mother, but a wicked mother-in-law too - which is surely less than fair, even by the standards of fairytales.

The fabulous picture in 1920s fashion (click to enlarge) is by Elenore Abbott (1875-1935).

Read by Natasha. Duration 13.57.

A king was once hunting in a great wood, and he hunted the game so eagerly that none of his courtiers could follow him. When evening came on he stood still and looked round him, and he saw that he had quite lost himself. He sought a way out, but could find none. Then he saw an old woman with a shaking head coming towards him; but she was a witch.

‘Good woman,’ he said to her, ‘can you not show me the way out of the wood?’

‘Oh, certainly, Sir King,’ she replied, ‘I can quite well do that, but on one condition, which if you do not fulfil you will never get out of the wood, and will die of hunger.’

‘What is the condition?’ asked the King.

‘I have a daughter,’ said the old woman, ‘who is so beautiful that she has not her equal in the world, and is well fitted to be your wife; if you will make her lady-queen I will show you the way out of the wood.’

The King in his anguish of mind consented, and the old woman led him to her little house where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She received the King as if she were expecting him, and he saw that she was certainly very beautiful; but she did not please him, and he could not look at her without a secret feeling of horror. As soon as he had lifted the maiden on to his horse the old woman showed him the way, and the King reached his palace, where the wedding was celebrated.

The King had already been married once, and had by his first wife seven children, six boys and one girl, whom he loved more than anything in the world. And now, because he was afraid that their stepmother might not treat them well and might do them harm, he put them in a lonely castle that stood in the middle of a wood. It lay so hidden, and the way to it was so hard to find, that he himself could not have found it out had not a wise-woman given him a reel of thread which possessed a marvellous property: when he threw it before him it unwound itself and showed him the way. But the King went so often to his dear children that the Queen was offended at his absence. She grew curious, and wanted to know what he had to do quite alone in the wood. She gave his servants a great deal of money, and they betrayed the secret to her, and also told her of the reel of thread which alone could point out the way. She had no rest now till she had found out where the King guarded the reel, and then she made some little white shirts, and, as she had learnt from her witch-mother, sewed an enchantment in each of them.

And when the King had ridden off she took the little shirts and went into the wood, and the reel showed her the way. The children, who saw someone coming in the distance, thought it was their dear father coming to them, and sprang to meet him very joyfully. Then she threw over each one a little shirt, which when it had touched their bodies changed them into swans, and they flew away over the forest. The Queen went home quite satisfied, and thought she had got rid of her step-children; but the girl had not run to meet her with her brothers, and she knew nothing of her.

The next day the King came to visit his children, but he found no one but the girl.

‘Where are your brothers?’ asked the King.

‘Alas! dear father,’ she answered, ‘they have gone away and left me all alone.’ And she told him that looking out of her little window she had seen her brothers flying over the wood in the shape of swans, and she showed him the feathers which they had let fall in the yard, and which she had collected. The King mourned, but he did not think that the Queen had done the wicked deed, and as he was afraid the maiden would also be taken from him, he wanted to take her with him. But she was afraid of the stepmother, and begged the King to let her stay just one night more in the castle in the wood. The poor maiden thought, ‘My home is no longer here; I will go and seek my brothers.’ And when night came she fled away into the forest. She ran all through the night and the next day, till she could go no farther for weariness. Then she saw a little hut, went in, and found a room with six little beds. She was afraid to lie down on one, so she crept under one of them, lay on the hard floor, and was going to spend the night there. But when the sun had set she heard a noise, and saw six swans flying in at the window. They stood on the floor and blew at one another, and blew all their feathers off, and their swan-skin came off like a shirt. Then the maiden recognised her brothers, and overjoyed she crept out from under the bed. Her brothers were not less delighted than she to see their little sister again, but their joy did not last long.

‘You cannot stay here,’ they said to her. ‘This is a den of robbers; if they were to come here and find you they would kill you.’

‘Could you not protect me?’ asked the little sister.

‘No,’ they answered, ‘for we can only lay aside our swan skins for a quarter of an hour every evening. For this time we regain our human forms, but then we are changed into swans again.’

Then the little sister cried and said, ‘Can you not be freed?’

‘Oh, no,’ they said, ‘the conditions are too hard. You must not speak or laugh for six years, and must make in that time six shirts for us out of star-flowers. If a single word comes out of your mouth, all your labour is vain.’ And when the brothers had said this the quarter of an hour came to an end, and they flew away out of the window as swans.

But the maiden had determined to free her brothers even if it should cost her her life. She left the hut, went into the forest, climbed a tree, and spent the night there. The next morning she went out, collected star-flowers, and began to sew. She could speak to no one, and she had no wish to laugh, so she sat there, looking only at her work.

When she had lived there some time, it happened that the King of the country was hunting in the forest, and his hunters came to the tree on which the maiden sat. They called to her and said ‘Who are you?’

But she gave no answer.

‘Come down to us,’ they said, ‘we will do you no harm.’

But she shook her head silently. As they pressed her further with questions, she threw them the golden chain from her neck. But they did not leave off, and she threw them her girdle, and when this was no use, her garters, and then her dress. The huntsmen would not leave her alone, but climbed the tree, lifted the maiden down, and led her to the King. The King asked, ‘Who are you? What are you doing up that tree?’

But she answered nothing.

He asked her in all the languages he knew, but she remained as dumb as a fish. Because she was so beautiful, however, the King’s heart was touched, and he was seized with a great love for her. He wrapped her up in his cloak, placed her before him on his horse. and brought her to his castle. There he had her dressed in rich clothes, and her beauty shone out as bright as day, but not a word could be drawn from her. He set her at table by his side, and her modest ways and behaviour pleased him so much that he said, ‘I will marry this maiden and none other in the world,’ and after some days he married her. But the King had a wicked mother who was displeased with the marriage, and said wicked things of the young Queen. ‘Who knows who this girl is?’ she said; ’she cannot speak, and is not worthy of a king.’

After a year, when the Queen had her first child, the old mother took it away from her. Then she went to the King and said that the Queen had killed it. The King would not believe it, and would not allow any harm to be done her. But she sat quietly sewing at the shirts and troubling herself about nothing. The next time she had a child the wicked mother did the same thing, but the King could not make up his mind to believe her. He said, ‘She is too sweet and good to do such a thing as that. If she were not dumb and could defend herself, her innocence would be proved.’ But when the third child was taken away, and the Queen was again accused, and could not utter a word in her own defence, the King was obliged to give her over to the law, which decreed that she must be burnt to death. When the day came on which the sentence was to be executed, it was the last day of the six years in which she must not speak or laugh, and now she had freed her dear brothers from the power of the enchantment. The six shirts were done; there was only the left sleeve wanting to the last.

When she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm, and as she stood on the pile and the fire was about to be lighted, she looked around her and saw six swans flying through the air. Then she knew that her release was at hand and her heart danced for joy. The swans fluttered round her, and hovered low so that she could throw the shirts over them. When they had touched them the swan-skins fell off, and her brothers stood before her living, well and beautiful. Only the youngest had a swan’s wing instead of his left arm. They embraced and kissed each other, and the Queen went to the King, who was standing by in great astonishment, and began to speak to him, saying, ‘Dearest husband, now I can speak and tell you openly that I am innocent and have been falsely accused.’

She told him of the old woman’s deceit, and how she had taken the three children away and hidden them. Then they were fetched, to the great joy of the King, and the wicked mother came to no good end.

But the King and the Queen with their six brothers lived many years in happiness and peace.

By the Brothers Grimm. This wonderful story has it all: the maiden in the tower, the baby taken at birth by a wicked witch, and an enchanted but forbiden garden. In addition you can relish the iconic image of a maiden lowering her long tresses of golden hair down to her prince, so that he can climb up to her. Fortunately she had strong roots.

The colour picture is by Johnny Gruelle, and the black and white picture lower down is by Walter Crane.

Read by Natasha. Duration 12 minutes.

There were once a man and a woman who had long wished for a child - but without any luck.

At last, the woman hoped that God was about to grant her

desire. They had a little window at the back of their house

from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most

beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high

wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an

enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the

garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful

plant called a rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she longed

for it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.

Then her husband was alarmed, and asked: ‘What troubles you, dear wife?’

‘Ah,’ she replied, ‘if I can’t eat some of the rapunzel, which is in

the garden behind our house, I shall die.’

The man, who loved her, thought: ‘Sooner than let your wife die,

better bring her some of the rapunzel - let it cost you what it will.’

When it was getting dark, he clambered down

over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a

handful of the rapunzel plant and took it to his wife. She at once made herself

a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her–so very

good, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as

before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend

into the garden. In the gloom of evening therefore, he let himself

down again; but when he had clambered down the wall he was struck with terror, for he saw the enchantress standing before him. ‘

“How can you dare,’ said she with angry look, ‘Climb down into my garden and steal my

rapunzel like a thief? You shall suffer for it!’

‘Ah,’ answered he, ‘let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it

out of necessity. My wife saw your rapunzel from the window, and felt

such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some

to eat.’

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and

said to him: ‘If you speak the truth, I will allow you to take away

with you as much rapunzel as you will, only I make one condition, you

must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world; it

shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother.’

The man in his terror agreed to everything, and when the child was born, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she

was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay

in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was

a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed

herself beneath it and cried:

‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your hair to me.’

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she

heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses,

wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the

hair fell twenty yards down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it happened that the king’s son rode through

the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so

charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in

her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice sing out. The

king’s son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the

tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so

deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest

and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he

saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried:

‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your hair to me.’

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress

climbed up to her. ‘If that is the ladder that leads to the top, I too

will try my fortune,’ said he, and the next day when it began to grow

dark, he went to the tower and cried:

‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your hair to me.’

Immediately the hair fell down and the prince climbed up.

At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes

had never yet beheld, came to her; but the king’s son began to talk to

her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so

stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to

see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she

would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and

handsome, she thought: ‘He will love me more than old Dame Gothel the enchantress

does’; and she said yes, and laid her hand in his.

She said: ‘I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring

with you a ball of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a

ladder with it, and when that is ready I will climb down, and you will

take me on your horse.’ They agreed that until that time he should

come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day. The

enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her:

‘Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for

me to draw up than the young king’s son–he is with me in a moment.’

‘Ah! you wicked child,’ cried the enchantress. ‘What do I hear you

say! I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you

have deceived me!’ In her anger she clutched Rapunzel’s beautiful

hair, wrapped it twice round her left hand, seized a pair of

scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the

lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took

poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and

misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress

fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the

window, and when the king’s son came and cried:

‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your hair to me.’

she let the hair down. The king’s son climbed, but instead of finding

his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with

wicked and poisonous looks. ‘Aha!’ she cried mockingly, ‘you would

fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in

the nest; the cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well.

Rapunzel is lost to you; you will never see her again.’ The king’s son

was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from

the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell

pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate

nothing but roots and berries, and did naught but and weep over

the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some

years, and at last came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins

to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness.

He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went

towards it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his

neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear

again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom

where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time

afterwards, happy and contented.

This amusing story by the Brothers Grimm is about four farm animals who are convinced they can earn a good living as musicians. Indeed they do, but it isn’t really the sweetness of their barking, braying, mewing, and cockle-doodle-doing, that earns them their supper - it’s more the terror of the sound they make !

Read by Natasha. Duration 9.50.

A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the mill loyally for many a long year; but his strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began to wonder if it was worth his while keeping this old donkey much longer.

The donkey, seeing that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely be town-musician.”

When he had walked some distance, he found a dog lying on the road, gasping like one who had run till he was tired. “What are you gasping so for, you big fellow?” asked the donkey.

“Ah,” replied the dog, “as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I ran away, but now how am I to earn my bread?”

“I tell you what,” said the donkey, “I am going to Bremen, and shall be a town-musician there; go with me and work also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.”

The dog agreed, and on they went. Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like three rainy days! “Now then, old fluff and claws, what gone all wrong with you?” asked the donkey.

“Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat. “Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go?”

“Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a town-musician.”

The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three runaways came to a farm-yard, where the cockerel was sitting upon the gate, cock-a-doodle-doing with all his might. “Your cock-a-doodle-do goes through and through my skull” said the donkey. “What is the matter?”

` Guests are coming for Sunday and the housewife has no pity,’ said the cockerel, ‘ And has told the cook that she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off. Now I am cock-a-doodle-doing at full pitch while I can.”

“Ah you red-headed bird” said the donkey, “you had better come away with us. We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it must have some quality!”

The cockerel agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey and the dog laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the cockerel settled themselves in the branches; but the cockerel flew right to the top, where he was most safe. Before he went to sleep, he called out to his companions that there must be a house not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, “If so, we had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad.” The dog thought that a few bones with some meat on would do him good too!

So they moved further on, and soon saw the light shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to a well-lit robber’s house. The donkey, as the biggest, went to the window and looked in. “What do you see, my grey-horse?” asked the cockerel. “What do I see?” answered the donkey; “a table covered with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.” “That would be the sort of thing for us,” said the cockerel. “Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we were there!” said the donkey.

Then the animals put their heads together and schemed how to best win an invitation to come inside and join the robbers at the table.

“Come, come my friends,,” said the donkey, “We are musicians, so let us sing for our supper.”

And so they began to perform their music together: the donkey brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cockerel cock-a-doodle-doed; then they burst through the window into the room, so that the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The four companions now sat down at the table, well content with what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a month.

As soon as the four musicians had done, they put out the light, and each found a sleeping-place according to his nature and to what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the yard, the dog behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cockrel perched himself upon a beam of the roof; and being tired from their long walk, they soon went to sleep.

When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared quiet, the captain said, “We ought not to have let ourselves be frightened out of our wits;” and ordered one of them to go and examine the house.

The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for burning coals, he held the candle to them to light it. But the cat did not understand what he meant to do, and flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his leg; and as he ran across the yard by the straw-heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cockerel, too, who had been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down from the beam, “cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and said, “Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws; and by the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg; and in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with a wooden club; and above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who called out, `Bring the rogue here to me!’ so I got away as well as I could.”

After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the house again; but it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care to leave it any more.

By the Brothers Grimm. Bertie likes stories about frogs. No doubt that’s because he is one himself. It seems that many of you do too, as the Maiden and the Frog is one of our most popular stories. This version by the Brothers Grimm is slightly more elevated: it involves no ordinary young maiden, but a princess, who like other princesses is sweet, but very particular about certain things, especially about not kissing frogs.

Read by Natasha. Duration 12.03.

In olden times, when if you made a wish, it would always come true, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone in her face. Close by the King’s castle lay a great dark forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when the day was very warm, the King’s child went out into the forest and sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was dull she took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was her favorite plaything.

Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball did
not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it, but on to
the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The King’s daughter
followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the well was deep, so deep
that the bottom could not be seen. On this she began to cry, and cried
louder and louder, and could not be comforted. And as she was complaining
some one said to her, “What troubles you, King’s daughter? You weep so
that even a stone would show pity.” She looked round to the side from
whence the voice came, and saw a frog stretching forth its thick, ugly
head from the water. “Ah! old water-splasher, is it you?” said she;
“I am weeping for my golden ball, which has fallen into the well.”

“Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered the frog, “I can help thee, but
what wilt you give me if I bring thy plaything up again?” “Whatever
you will have, dear frog,” said she–”My clothes, my pearls and jewels,
and even the golden crown which I am wearing.”

The frog answered, “I do not care for thy clothes, thy pearls and
jewels, or thy golden crown, but if you will love me and let me be
thy companion and play-fellow, and sit by thee at thy little table,
and eat off thy little golden plate, and drink out of thy little cup,
and sleep in thy little bed—if thou wilt promise me this I will go
down below, and bring thee thy golden ball up again.”

“Oh yes,” said she, “I promise thee all you wish, you will but
bring me my ball back again.” She, however, thought, “How the silly
frog does talk! He lives in the water with the other frogs, and croaks,
and can be no companion to any human being!”

But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the
water and sank down, and in a short while came swimmming up again with
the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s daughter
was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and picked it up,
and ran away with it. “Wait, wait,” said the frog. “Take me with thee. I
can’t run as thou canst.” But what did it avail him to scream his croak,
croak, after her, as loudly as he could? She did not listen to it, but
ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was forced to go back into
his well again.

The next day when she had seated herself at table with the King and all
the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate, something
came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble staircase, and
when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and cried, “Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me.” She ran to see who was outside,
but when she opened the door, there sat the frog in front of it. Then
she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat down to dinner again, and
was quite frightened. The King saw plainly that her heart was beating
violently, and said, “My child, what art thou so afraid of? Is there
perchance a giant outside who wants to carry thee away?” “Ah, no,”
replied she. “It is no giant but a disgusting frog.”

“What does a frog want with you?” “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was
in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into the
water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for me,
and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my companion,
but I never thought he would be able to come out of his water! And now
he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.”

In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried,

“Princess! youngest princess!
Open the door for me!
Dost thou not know what thou saidst to me

Yesterday by the cool waters of the fountain?
Princess, youngest princess!
Open the door for me!”

Then said the King, “That which you have promised, you must do. Go
and let him in.” She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped in
and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and cried,
“Lift me up beside you.” She delayed, until at last the King commanded
her to do it. When the frog was once on the chair he wanted to be on the
table, and when he was on the table he said, “Now, push your little golden
plate nearer to me that we may eat together.” She did this, but it was
easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog enjoyed what he
ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked her. At length he said,
“I have eaten and am satisfied; now I am tired, carry me into thy little
room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we will both lie down
and go to sleep.”

The King’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold
frog which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep
in her pretty, clean little bed. But the King grew angry and said,
“He who helped thee when thou wert in trouble ought not afterwards to
be despised by thee.” So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. But when she was in bed
he crept to her and said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as thou,
lift me up or I will tell thy father.” Then she was terribly angry,
and took him up and threw him with all her might against the wall. “Now,
you will be quiet, you horrible little frog,” said she. But when he fell down he was
no frog but a King’s son with beautiful kind eyes. He by her father’s
will was now her dear companion and husband. Then he told her how he had
been bewitched by a wicked witch, and how no one could have delivered him
from the well but herself, and that to-morrow they would go together into
his kingdom. Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke
them, a carriage came driving up with eight white horses, which had white
ostrich feathers on their heads, and were harnessed with golden chains,
and behind stood the young King’s servant Faithful Henry. Faithful Henry
had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a frog, that he
had caused three iron bands to be laid round his heart, in case it should
burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to conduct the young King
into his Kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them both in, and placed himself
behind again, and was full of joy because of this wonderful end to their troubles. . And when
they had driven a part of the way the King’s son heard a cracking behind
him as if something had broken. So he turned round and cried, “Henry,
the carriage is breaking.”

“No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart, which
was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and imprisoned in
the well.” Again and once again while they were on their way something
cracked, and each time the King’s son thought the carriage was breaking;
but it was only the bands which were springing from the heart of faithful
Henry because his master was set free and was happy.

This story by the Brothers Grimm has so many morals, it’s hard to say which one is the main theme. There is the boastful miller who wants to appear important, there is the greedy king who threatens and bullies the miller’s daughter - there is the daughter who makes a rash promise, and then there is the Rumpelstiltskin himself, magical, wild, and so full of rage when he loses his bet, that he comes to a NASTY END.

Read by Natasha. Duration 10 minutes.

Brothers Grimm Page on Storynory.

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he had an audience with the King, and in order to make himself appear as a person of importance 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, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun this
straw into gold during the night, 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 the life of her 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 manikin, “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 until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels
were full of gold. By daybreak the King was already 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 that 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; and 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 manikin 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 strait, she promised the manikin
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 manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “Now give me
what you promised.” The Queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin
all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the
manikin said, “No, something that is living is dearer to me than all the
treasures in the world.” Then the Queen began to weep and cry, so that
the manikin pitied her. “I will give you three days’ time,” said he,
“if by that time you find out my name, then shall you 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 that there might be. When the manikin 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
manikin 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, and before the house a fire was burning,
and round about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was jumping:
he hopped upon one leg, and shouted—

“To-day I bake, to-morrow brew,
The next I’ll have the young Queen’s child.
Ha! glad am I that no one knew
That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.”

You may think how glad the Queen was when she heard the name! And when
soon afterwards the little man came in, and asked, “Now, Mistress Queen,
what is my name?” at first 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 plunged 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.

A fisherman catches a golden fish. When the fish announces that he is a prince under an evil spell, the fishermen throws him back into the sea. On his return to his hovel, his wife tells him that he should have asked the magical creature to grant him a wish. And so the fisherman returns to the sea to call out to the fish and ask that the lives of the impoverished couple should be transformed - but the better life that ensues is not quite enough for them.

This story of over-reaching greed and ambition is known well in many countries including Germany and Russia, but not so much in the English speaking world. It’s told with the Brothers Grimm’s usual insight into human frailty.

Read by Natasha. Duration 19.30

There was once a fisherman who lived with his wife in a pigsty, close
by the seaside. The fisherman used to go out all day long a-fishing;
and one day, as he sat on the shore with his rod, looking at the
sparkling waves and watching his line, all on a sudden his float was
dragged away deep into the water: and when he reeled in his line, he pulled out a
golden fish. But the fish said, ‘Pray let me live! I am not a real
fish; I am an enchanted prince: put me in the water again, and let me
go!’ ‘Oh, ho!’ said the man, ‘you need not go on much more about
the matter; I will have nothing to do with a fish that can talk: so
swim away, sir, as soon as you please!’ Then he put him back into the
water, and the fish darted straight down to the bottom, and left a
long streak of blood behind him on the wave.

When the fisherman went home to his wife in the pigsty, he told her
how he had caught a golden fish, and how it had told him it was an
enchanted prince, and how, on hearing it speak, he had let it go
again. ‘Did not you ask it for anything?’ said the wife, ‘we live very
wretchedly here, in this nasty dirty pigsty; do go back and tell the
fish we want a snug little cottage.’

The fisherman did not much like the business: however, he went to the
seashore; and when he came back there the water looked all yellow and
green. And he stood at the water’s edge, and said:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

Then the fish came swimming to him, and said, ‘Well, what is her will?
What does your wife want?’ ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ’she says that
when I had caught you, I ought to have asked you for something before
I let you go; she does not like living any longer in the pigsty, and
wants a snug little cottage.’ ‘Go home, then,’ said the fish; ’she is
in the cottage already!’ So the man went home, and saw his wife
standing at the door of a nice trim little cottage. ‘Come in, come
in!’ said she; ‘is not this much better than the filthy pigsty we
had?’ And there was a parlour, and a bedroom, and a kitchen; and
behind the cottage there was a little garden, planted with all sorts
of flowers and fruits; and there was a courtyard behind, full of ducks
and chickens. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ‘how happily we shall live
now!’ ‘We will try to do so, at least,’ said his wife.

Everything went right for a week or two, and then Dame Ilsabill said,
‘Husband, there is not nearly room enough for us in this cottage; the
courtyard and the garden are a great deal too small; I should like to
have a large stone castle to live in: go to the fish again and tell
him to give us a castle.’ ‘Wife,’ said the fisherman, ‘I don’t like to
go to him again, for perhaps he will be angry; we ought to be easy
with this pretty cottage to live in.’ ‘Nonsense!’ said the wife; ‘he
will do it very willingly, I know; go along and try!’

The fisherman went, but his heart was very heavy: and when he came to
the sea, it looked blue and gloomy, though it was very calm; and he
went close to the edge of the waves, and said:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

‘Well, what does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the man,
dolefully, ‘my wife wants to live in a stone castle.’ ‘Go home, then,’
said the fish; ’she is standing at the gate of it already.’ So away
went the fisherman, and found his wife standing before the gate of a
great castle. ‘See,’ said she, ‘is not this grand?’ With that they
went into the castle together, and found a great many servants there,
and the rooms all richly furnished, and full of golden chairs and
tables; and behind the castle was a garden, and around it was a park
half a mile long, full of sheep, and goats, and hares, and deer; and
in the courtyard were stables and cow-houses. ‘Well,’ said the man,
‘now we will live cheerful and happy in this beautiful castle for the
rest of our lives.’ ‘Perhaps we may,’ said the wife; ‘but let us sleep
upon it, before we make up our minds to that.’ So they went to bed.

The next morning when Dame Ilsabill awoke it was broad daylight, and
she jogged the fisherman with her elbow, and said, ‘Get up, husband,
and bestir yourself, for we must be king of all the land.’ ‘Wife,
wife,’ said the man, ‘why should we wish to be the king? I will not be
king.’ ‘Then I will,’ said she. ‘But, wife,’ said the fisherman, ‘how
can you be king–the fish cannot make you a king?’ ‘Husband,’ said
she, ’say no more about it, but go and try! I will be king.’ So the
man went away quite sorrowful to think that his wife should want to be
king. This time the sea looked a dark grey colour, and was overspread
with curling waves and the ridges of foam as he cried out:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

‘Well, what would she have now?’ said the fish. ‘Alas!’ said the poor
man, ‘my wife wants to be king.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish; ’she is
king already.’

Then the fisherman went home; and as he came close to the palace he
saw a troop of soldiers, and heard the sound of drums and trumpets.
And when he went in he saw his wife sitting on a throne of gold and
diamonds, with a golden crown upon her head; and on each side of her
stood six fair maidens, each a head taller than the other. ‘Well,
wife,’ said the fisherman, ‘are you king?’ ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I am
king.’ And when he had looked at her for a long time, he said, ‘Ah,
wife! what a fine thing it is to be king! Now we shall never have
anything more to wish for as long as we live.’ ‘I don’t know how that
may be,’ said she; ‘never is a long time. I am king, it is true; but I
begin to be tired of that, and I think I should like to be emperor.’
‘Alas, wife! why should you wish to be emperor?’ said the fisherman.
‘Husband,’ said she, ‘go to the fish! I say I will be emperor.’ ‘Ah,
wife!’ replied the fisherman, ‘the fish cannot make an emperor, I am
sure, and I should not like to ask him for such a thing.’ ‘I am king,’
said Ilsabill, ‘and you are my slave; so go at once!’

So the fisherman was forced to go; and he muttered as he went along,
‘This will come to no good, it is too much to ask; the fish will be
tired at last, and then we shall be sorry for what we have done.’ He
soon came to the seashore; and the water was quite black and muddy,
and a mighty whirlwind blew over the waves and rolled them about, but
he went as near as he could to the water’s brink, and said:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

‘What would she have now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman,
’she wants to be emperor.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish; ’she is emperor
already.’

So he went home again; and as he came near he saw his wife Ilsabill
sitting on a very lofty throne made of solid gold, with a great crown
on her head full two yards high; and on each side of her stood her
guards and attendants in a row, each one smaller than the other, from
the tallest giant down to a little dwarf no bigger than my finger. And
before her stood princes, and dukes, and earls: and the fisherman went
up to her and said, ‘Wife, are you emperor?’ ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I am
emperor.’ ‘Ah!’ said the man, as he gazed upon her, ‘what a fine thing
it is to be emperor!’ ‘Husband,’ said she, ‘why should we stop at
being emperor? I will be pope next.’ ‘O wife, wife!’ said he, ‘how can
you be pope? there is but one pope at a time in Christendom.’
‘Husband,’ said she, ‘I will be pope this very day.’ ‘But,’ replied
the husband, ‘the fish cannot make you pope.’ ‘What nonsense!’ said
she; ‘if he can make an emperor, he can make a pope: go and try him.’

So the fisherman went. But when he came to the shore the wind was
raging and the sea was tossed up and down in boiling waves, and the
ships were in trouble, and rolled fearfully upon the tops of the
billows. In the middle of the heavens there was a little piece of blue
sky, but towards the south all was red, as if a dreadful storm was
rising. At this sight the fisherman was dreadfully frightened, and he
trembled so that his knees knocked together: but still he went down
near to the shore, and said:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

‘What does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ‘my
wife wants to be pope.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish; ’she is pope
already.’

Then the fisherman went home, and found Ilsabill sitting on a throne
that was two miles high. And she had three great crowns on her head,
and around her stood all the pomp and power of the Church. And on each
side of her were two rows of burning lights, of all sizes, the
greatest as large as the highest and biggest tower in the world, and
the least no larger than a small rush light. ‘Wife,’ said the
fisherman, as he looked at all this greatness, ‘are you pope?’ ‘Yes,’
said she, ‘I am pope.’ ‘Well, wife,’ replied he, ‘it is a grand thing
to be pope; and now you must be easy, for you can be nothing greater.’
‘I will think about that,’ said the wife. Then they went to bed: but
Dame Ilsabill could not sleep all night for thinking what she should
be next. At last, as she was dropping asleep, morning broke, and the
sun rose. ‘Ha!’ thought she, as she woke up and looked at it through
the window, ‘after all I cannot prevent the sun rising.’ At this
thought she was very angry, and wakened her husband, and said,
‘Husband, go to the fish and tell him I must be lord of the sun and
moon.’ The fisherman was half asleep, but the thought frightened him
so much that he started and fell out of bed. ‘Alas, wife!’ said he,
‘cannot you be easy with being pope?’ ‘No,’ said she, ‘I am very
uneasy as long as the sun and moon rise without my permission. Go to the
fish at once!’

Then the man went shivering with fear; and as he was going down to the
shore a dreadful storm arose, so that the trees and the very rocks
shook. And all the heavens became black with stormy clouds, and the
lightnings played, and the thunders rolled; and you might have seen in
the sea great black waves, swelling up like mountains with crowns of
white foam upon their heads. And the fisherman crept towards the sea,
and cried out, as well as he could:

‘O man of the sea!
Hearken to me!
My wife Ilsabill
Will have her own will,
And hath sent me to beg a gift of thee!’

‘What does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said he, ’she wants to
be lord of the sun and moon.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish, ‘to your
pigsty again.’

And there they live to this very day.

Download Snow White

The tale of Snow White features one of the most fabulous baddies of all time in the form of the Wicked Queen, vainly peering into her mirror and asking - Who is the fairest of us all? Her motivations of vanity and envy are so very human, and that is what gives the tale its power.

Disney followed the Brothers Grimm quite closely in his beautiful 1937 film. The Seven Dwarfs were not the invention of Walt (though their names were). It is a wintry tale, with a chilly beauty, but still it manages to warm the heart until the final lines where the Wicked Queen meets her just deserts. A word of warning: grown-Ups may find her punishment rather horrid.

Read by Natasha.

You might also be interested in these external links:

Snow White Wikipedia
SurLaLune Annotated Snow White
D.L. Ashliman’s Snow White Page
Disney’s Snow White Page

A very long time ago, in mid winter, when the snowflakes were falling like feathers from heaven, a beautiful queen sat sewing at her window, which had a frame of black ebony. As she worked, she looked sometimes at the falling snow, and it happened that she pricked her finger with her needle, so that three drops of blood fell upon the snow. How pretty the red blood looked upon the dazzling white! The Queen said to herself as she looked it, “Ah me! If only I had a dear little child who had skin as white as the snow, lips as rosy as the blood, and hair as black as the ebony window-frame.”

Soon afterwards she had a little daughter, with skin white as snow, lips rosy as blood, and hair as black as ebony– and she was therefore called “Little Snow-White.”

But alas! When the little one was born, the good queen died.

A year passed away, and the King took another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that anyone else should surpass her in beauty. She had a mirror and when she stood in front of it and asked,

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest of us all?”

the mirror answered-

“Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all,”

and the Queen was contented, because she knew the mirror could speak nothing but the truth.

But as time passed on, Little Snow-White grew more and more beautiful, until when she was seven years old, she was as lovely as the bright day, and still more lovely than the Queen herself, so that when the lady one day asked her mirror-

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest fair of us all?”

it answered-

“O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, Snow-White is fairer far to see.”

The Queen was shocked, and grew yellow and green with envy, and from that moment envy and pride grew in her heart like rank weeds, so that she had no peace day or night, until one day she called a huntsman and said “Take the child away into the woods and kill her, for I can no longer bear the sight of her. And when you return, bring with you her heart, that I may know you have obeyed my will.”

The huntsman dared not disobey, and he led Snow-White out into the woods and placed an arrow in his bow to pierce her innocent heart, but the little girl cried and begged him saying, “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.” While to himself he thought, “The wild beasts will soon have devoured you,” and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart since he know longer had to to kill her.

Then as a young wild boar came rushing by, he killed it, took out its heart, and carried it home to the Queen. The cook was ordered to prepare this, and the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had eaten the heart of Snow-white.

Poor little Snow-White was now all alone in the wild wood, and so frightened was she that she trembled at every leaf that rustled. 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. And she kept on runningn until she came to a little house, where she went in to rest.

Inside the cottage, everything she saw was tiny, but more dainty and clean than words can tell.

Upon a white-covered table stood seven little plates and upon each plate lay a little spoon, besides which there were seven knives and forks and seven little goblets. Against the wall, and side by side, stood seven little beds covered with perfectly white sheets.

Snow-White was so hungry and thirsty that she took a little food from each of the seven plates, and drank a few drops of wine from each goblet, for she did not wish to take everything away from one. Then, because she was so tired, she crept into one of the beds, but it did not suit her, and then she tried the others, but one was too long, another too short, and so on, until she came to the seventh, which suited her exactly; so she said her prayers and soon fell fast asleep.

When night fell the masters of the little house came home. They were seven dwarfs, who worked with a pick-axe and spade, searching for cooper and gold in the heart of the mountains.

They lit their seven candles and then saw that someone had been to visit them. The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”

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

The third, “Who has taken a piece of my bread?”

The fourth, “Who has taken some of 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 goblet?”

The first looked round and saw that his bed was rumpled, so he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?”

Then the others looked round and each one cried, “Someone has been on my bed too?”

But the seventh, when he looked at his bed, saw little Snow-white, who was lying asleep there. 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, heavens! oh, heavens!” 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.

When the sun rose, Snow-White awoke, and, oh! How frightened she was when she saw the seven little dwarfs. But they were very friendly, and asked what her name was. “My name is Snow-White,” she answered.

“And how did you come to get into our house?” asked the dwarfs.

Then she told them how her cruel step-mother had intended her to be killed, but how the huntsman had spared her life and she had run on until she reached the little house. And the dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our house, cook for us, and make the beds, wash, mend, and knit, and keep everything neat and clean, then you may stay with us and you shall lack for nothing.”

“Yes,” answered Snow-White; “With All my heart,” and so she stayed.

She kept the house neat and clean for the dwarfs, who went off early in the morning to search for copper and gold in the mountains, and who expected their meal to be standing ready for them when they returned at night.

All day long Snow-White was alone, and the good little dwarfs warned her to be careful to let no one into the house. “For,” said they, “your step-mother will soon discover that you are living here.”

The Queen, believing, of course, that Snow-White was dead, and that she had eaten her heart, and that therefore she was again the most beautiful lady in the land, went to her mirror, and said-

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest fair of all?”

Then the mirror answered-

“O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, Snow-White is fairer far to see. Over the hills and far away, She dwells with seven dwarfs to-day.”

How angry she was, for she knew that the mirror spoke the truth, and that the huntsman must have deceived her. She thought and thought how she might kill Snow-White, for she knew she would have neither rest nor peace until she really was the most beautiful land. At length she decided what to do. She painted her face and dressed herself like an old pedlar-woman, so that no one could recognize her, and in this disguise she climbed the seven mountains that lay between her and the dwarfs’ house, and knocked at their door and cried, “Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap.”

Snow-White peeped from the window and said, “Good day, good-wife, and what are your wares?”

“All sorts of pretty things, my dear,” answered the woman. “Silken laces of every colour,” and she held up a bright-coloured one, made of plaited silks.

“Surely I might let this honest old woman come in?” thought Snow-White, and unbolted the door and bought the pretty lace.

“Dear, dear, what a sight for sore eyes you are, child,” said the old woman; “come, let me lace you properly for once.”

Snow-White had no suspicious thoughts, so she placed herself in front of the old woman that she might fasten her dress with the new silk lace. But immediately the wicked creature laced her bodice so tightly that she could not breathe, and fell down upon the ground as though she were dead. “Now,” said the Queen, “I am once more the most beautiful lady in the land,” and she went away.

When the dwarfs came home they were very grieved to find their dear little Snow-White lying upon the ground as though she were dead. They lifted her gently and, seeing that she was too tightly laced, they cut the silken cord, when she drew a long breath and then gradually came back to life.

When the dwarfs heard all that had happened they said, “The pedlar-woman was certainly the wicked Queen. Now, take care in future that you open the door to none when we are not with you.”

The wicked Queen had no sooner reached home than she went to her mirror, and said-

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest fair of all?”

And the mirror answered as before-

“O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, Snow-White is fairer far to see. Over the hills and far away, She dwells with seven dwarfs to-day.”

The blood rushed to her face as she heard these words, for she knew that Snow-White must have come to life again.

“But I will manage to put an end to her yet,” she said, and then, by using witchcraft, she made a poisonous comb.

Again she disguised herself, climbed the seven mountains, and knocked at the door of the seven dwarfs’ cottage, crying, “Pretty things to sell-very cheap today!”

Snow-White looked out of the window and said, “Go away, good woman, for I dare not let you in.”

Surely you can look at my goods,” answered the woman, and held up the poisonous comb, which pleased Snow-White so well that she opened the door and bought it.

“Come, let me comb your hair in the newest way,” said the woman, and the poor unsuspicious child let her have her way, but no sooner did the comb touch her hair than the poison began to work, and she fell fainting to the ground.

“There, you model of beauty,” said the wicked woman, as she went away, “you are done for at last!”

But fortunately it was almost time for the dwarfs to come home, and as soon as they came in and found Snow-White lying upon the ground they guessed that her wicked step-mother had been there again, and set to work to find out what was wrong.

They soon saw the poisonous comb, and drew it out of her hair, and almost immediately Snow-White began to recover, and told them what had happened.

Once more they warned her to be on her guard, and to open the door to no one.

When the Queen reached home, she went straight to the mirror and said–

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest fair of all?”

And the mirror answered-

“O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, Snow-White is fairer far to see. Over the hills and far away, She dwells with seven dwarfs to-day.”

When the Queen heard these words she shook with rage. “Snow-White shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my own life!”

She went into a secret chamber, where no one else ever entered, and there she made a poisonous apple, and then she painted her face and disguised herself as a peasant woman, and climbed the seven mountains and went to the dwarfs’ house.

She knocked at the door. Snow-White put her head out of the window, and said, “I must not let anyone in; the seven dwarfs have forbidden me to do so.”

“It’s all the same to me,” answered the peasant woman; “I shall soon get rid of these fine apples. But before I go I’ll make you a present of one.”

“Oh! No,” said Snow-White, “for I must not take it.”

“Surely you are not afraid of poison?” said the woman. “See, I will cut one in two: the rosy cheek you shall take, and the white cheek I will eat myself.”

Now, the apple had been so cleverly made that only the rose-cheeked side contained the poison. Snow-White longed for the delicious-looking fruit, and when she saw that the woman ate half of it, she thought there could be no danger, and stretched out her hand and took the other part. But no sooner had she tasted it than she fell down dead.

The wicked Queen laughed aloud with joy as she gazed at her. “White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony,” she said, “this time the dwarfs cannot awaken you.”

And she went straight home and asked her mirror–

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest fair of all?”

And at length it answered–

“Thou, O Queen, art fairest of all!”

So her envious heart had peace-at least, as much as an envious heart can have peace.

When the little dwarfs came home at night they found Snow-White lying upon the ground. No breath came from her parted lips, for she was dead. They lifted her tenderly and sought for some poisonous object which might have caused the mischief, unlaced her frock, combed her hair, and washed her with wine and water, but all in vain-dead she was and dead she remained. They laid her upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round about it, and wept as though their hearts would break, for three whole days.

When the time came that she should be laid in the ground they could not bear to part from her. Her pretty cheeks were still rosy red, and she looked just as though she were still living.

“We cannot hide her away in the dark earth,” said the dwarfs, and so they made a transparent coffin of shining glass, and laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it in letters of gold; and that she was a King’s daughter. Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain-top, and one of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for Snow-white; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.

For a long, long time little Snow-White lay in the coffin, but she did not change; she only looked as though she slept, for she was still as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony.

It chanced that a King’s son came into the wood, and went to the dwarfs’ house, meaning to spend the night there. He saw the coffin upon the mountain-top, with little Snow-White lying within it, and he read the words that were written upon it in letters of gold.

And he said to the dwarfs, “If you will but let me have the coffin, you may ask of me what you will, and I will give it to you.”

But the dwarfs answered, “We would not sell it for all the gold in the world.”

Then said the Prince, “Let me have it as a gift, I pray you, for I cannot live without seeing little Snow-White, and I will prize your gift as the dearest of my possessions.”

The good little dwarfs pitied him when they heard these words, and so gave him the coffin. The King’s son then bade his servants place it upon their shoulders and carry it away, but as they went they stumbled over the stump of a tree, and the violent shaking shook the piece of poisonous apple which had lodged in Snow-White’s throat out again, so that she opened her eyes, raised the lid of the coffin, and sat up, alive once more.

“Where am I?” she cried, and the happy Prince answered, “Thou art with me, dearest.”

Then he told her all that had happened, and how he loved her better than the whole world, and begged her to go with him to his father’s palace and be his wife. Snow-White agreed, and went with him, and the wedding was celebrated with great splendour and magnificence.

Little Snow-White’s wicked step-mother was invited to the feast, and when she had dressed herself in her most beautiful clothes, she stood before her mirror, and said–

“Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest fair of all?”

And the mirror answered–

“O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, The young Queen is fairer to see.”

Oh! How angry the wicked woman was then, and so terrified, too, that she scarcely knew what to do. At first she thought she would not go to the wedding at all, but then she felt that she could not rest until she had seen the young Queen. No sooner did she enter the palace than she recognized little Snow-White, and could not move for terror.

Then a pair of red-hot iron shoes was brought into the room with tongs and set before her, and these she was forced to put on and to dance in them until she could dance no longer, but fell down dead, and that was the end of the wicked queen.

Some teachers find that lesson plans for music are just as important as those for math or science.

If you have ever been tempted to be greedy, you will have just a little sympathy with the cunning cat of this story, even though she is certainly bad. Every time she thinks about being naughty, she persuades herself with a little excuse that rings true to life. A warning: this tale of old enemies doing their best to be friends is full of charm right up until the end, which is rather sudden and realistic.

Read by Natasha Lee Lewis. Duration 10 minutes. Full text.

A cat got to know a mouse, and spoke so much of the great love and friendship she felt for her, that at last the Mouse agreed to live in the same house with her, and to go shares in the housekeeping. ‘But we must store up food for the winter or else we shall be hungry,’ said the Cat. ‘And You, little Mouse, cannot venture everywhere in case you run into a trap.’ This good advice was followed, and a little pot of fat was bought. But they did not know where to put it. At length, after long discussion, the Cat said, ‘I know of no place where it could be better put than in the church. No one will trouble to take it away from there. We will hide it in a corner, and we won’t touch it till we really need it.’ So the little pot was placed in safety; but it was not long before the Cat had a great longing for it, and said to the Mouse, ‘I wanted to tell you, little Mouse, that my cousin has a little son, white with brown spots, and she wants me to be godmother to that little kitten. Let me go out to-day, and do you take care of the house alone.’

‘Yes, go certainly,’ replied the Mouse, ‘and when you eat anything good, think of me; I should very much like a drop of the red christening wine.’

But it was all untrue. The Cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to be godmother. She went straight to the church, slunk to the little pot of fat, began to lick it, and licked the top off. Then she took a walk on the roofs of the town, looked at the view, stretched herself out in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought of the little pot of fat. As soon as it was evening she went home again.

‘Ah, here you are again!’ said the Mouse; ‘you must certainly have had an enjoyable day.’

‘It went off very well,’ answered the Cat.

‘What was the child’s name?’ asked the Mouse.

‘Top Off,’ said the Cat drily.

‘Topoff!’ echoed the Mouse, ‘it is indeed a wonderful and curious name. Are there others called Topoff in your family?’

‘What is there odd about it?’ said the Cat. ‘It is not worse than Breadthief, as your godchild is called.’

Not long after this another great longing came over the Cat. She said to the Mouse, ‘You must again be kind enough to look after the house alone, for I have been asked a second time to stand godmother, and as this kitten has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.’

The kind Mouse agreed, but the Cat slunk under the town wall to the church, and ate up half of the pot of fat. ‘Nothing tastes better,’ said she, ‘than what one eats by oneself,’ and she was very much pleased with her day’s work. When she came home the Mouse asked, ‘What was this child called?’

‘Half Gone,’ answered the Cat.

‘Halfgone! what a name! I have never heard it in my life. I don’t believe it is in any book!’

Soon the Cat’s mouth began to water once more after her licking business. ‘All good things in threes,’ she said to the Mouse; ‘I have again to stand godmother. The child is quite black, and has very white paws, but not a single white hair on its body. This only happens once in two years, so you will let me go out?’

‘Topoff! Halfgone!’ repeated the Mouse, ‘they are such curious names; they make me very thoughtful.’

‘Oh, you sit at home in your dark grey coat and your long tail,’ said the Cat, ‘and you get fanciful. That comes of not going out in the day.’

The Mouse had a good cleaning out while the Cat was gone, and made the house tidy; but the greedy Cat ate the fat every bit up.

‘

When it is all gone one can be at rest,’ she said to herself, and at night she came home sleek and satisfied. The Mouse asked at once after the third child’s name.

‘It won’t please you any better,’ said the Cat, ‘he was called Clean Gone.’

‘Cleangone!’ repeated the Mouse. ‘I do not believe that name has been printed any more than the others. Cleangone! What can it mean?’ She shook her head, curled herself up, and went to sleep.

From this time on no one asked the Cat to stand godmother; but when the winter came and there was nothing to be got outside, the Mouse remembered their provision and said, ‘Come, Cat, we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored away; it will taste very good.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ answered the Cat; ‘ it will taste as good to you as if you stretched your thin tongue out of the window.’

They started off, and when they reached it they found the pot in its place, but quite empty!

‘Ah,’ said the Mouse,’ ‘now I know what has happened! It has all come out! You are a true friend to me! You have eaten it all when you stood godmother; first the top off, then half of it gone, then—-’

‘Will you be quiet!’ screamed the Cat. ‘Another word and I will eat you up.’

‘Cleangone’ was already on the poor Mouse’s tongue, and scarcely was it out than the Cat made a spring at her, seized and swallowed her.

You see that is the way of the world.

Download the audio of Hansel and Grettel

ONCE upon a time there lived on the outskirts of a large forest a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children. Times were really bad. …. One night, as he was tossing about in bed, he sighed and said to his wife: “What’s to become of us? how are we to feed our poor children. “I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman; “early to-morrow morning we’ll take the children out into the thickest part of the wood; there we shall light a fire for them and give them each a piece of bread; then we’ll go on to our work and leave them alone. They won’t be able to find their way home, and we shall be rid of them.”

(We are republishing Hansel and Grettel because it has mysteriously disappeared from our archive)

This is a RATHER SCARY STORY. Children and adults might be a touch frightened by Natasha’s rendering of the wicked witch who wants to cook little Hansel and Gretel. But they will also be enraptured by Hansel and Grettel’s ingenuity as they triumph over evil.

This version of the classic story by The Brothers Grimm is from the Blue Fairy Book of Andrew Lang, published in 1889.

As usual, before we get going, we pick-up some royal gossip from Prince Bertie’s the Frog’s Pond, where Colin the Carp is getting grumpy about tadpoles and their silly notions.

Read by Natasha Lee-Lewis. Duration 23 minutes.

ONCE upon a time there dwelt on the outskirts of a large forest a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children; the boy was called Hansel and the girl Grettel. He had always little enough to live on, and once, when times were bad, they had to get by with one piece of bread and butter each. One night, as he was tossing about in bed, full of cares and worry, he sighed and said to his wife: “What’s to become of us? how are we to feed our poor children, now that we have nothing more for ourselves?” “I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman; “early to-morrow morning we’ll take the children out into the thickest part of the wood; there we shall light a fire for them and give them each a piece of bread; then we’ll go on to our work and leave them alone. They won’t be able to find their way home, and we shall be rid of them.” “No, wife,” said her husband, “that I won’t do; how could I find it in my heart to leave my children alone in the wood? The wild beasts would soon come and tear them to pieces.” “Oh! you fool,” said she, “then we must all four die of hunger, and you may just as well go and saw the boards for our coffins”; and they argued and argued, until he agreed that they must get rid of Hansel and Grettel. “But I can’t help feeling sorry for the poor children,” added the husband.

The children, too, had not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Grettel wept bitterly and spoke to Hansel: “Now it’s all up with us.” “No, no, Grettel,” said Hansel, “don’t fret yourself; I’ll be able to find a way to escape, no fear.” And when the old people had fallen asleep he got up, slipped on his little coat, opened the back door and stole out. The moon was shining clearly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house glittered like bits of silver. Hansel bent down and filled his pocket with as many of them as he could cram in. Then he went back and said to Grettel: “Be comforted, my dear little sister, and go to sleep: God will not desert us”; and he lay down in bed again.

At daybreak, even before the sun was up, the woman came and woke the two children: “Get up, you lie-abeds, we’re all going to the forest to fetch wood.” She gave them each a bit of bread and said: “There’s something for your luncheon, but don’t you eat it up before, for it’s all you’ll get.” Grettel took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the stones in his pocket. Then they all set out together on the way to the forest. After they had walked for a little, Hansel stood still and looked back at the house, and this maneuver he repeated again and again. His father observed him, and said: “Hansel, what are you gazing at there, and why do you always remain behind? Take care, and don’t lose your footing.” “Oh! father,” said Hansel, “I am looking back at my white kitten, which is sitting on the roof, waving me a farewell.” The woman exclaimed: “What a donkey you are! that isn’t your kitten, that’s the morning sun shining on the chimney.” But Hansel had not looked back at his kitten, but had always dropped one of the white pebbles out of his pocket on to the path.

When they had reached the middle of the forest the father said: “Now, children, go and fetch a lot of wood, and I’ll light a fire that you may not feel cold.” Hansel and Grettel heaped up brushwood till they had made a pile nearly the size of a small hill. The brushwood was set fire to, and when the flames leaped high the woman said: “Now lie down at the fire, children, and rest yourselves: we are going into the forest to cut down wood; when we’ve finished we’ll come back and fetch you.” Hansel and Grettel sat down beside the fire, and at midday ate their little bits of bread. They heard the strokes of the axe, so they thought their father was quite near. But it was no axe they heard, but a bough he had tied on a dead tree, and that was blown about by the wind. And when they had sat for a long time their eyes closed with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke at last it was pitch dark. Grettel began to cry, and said: “How are we ever to get out of the wood?” But Hansel comforted her. “Wait a bit,” he said, “till the moon is up, and then we’ll find our way sure enough.” And when the full moon had risen he took his sister by the hand and followed the pebbles, which shone like new threepenny bits, and showed them the path. They walked on through the night, and at daybreak reached their father’s house again. They knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it she exclaimed: “You naughty children, what a time you’ve slept in the wood! we thought you were never going to come back.” But the father rejoiced, for his conscience had reproached him for leaving his children behind by themselves.

Not long afterward there was again great dearth in the land, and the children heard their mother address their father thus in bed one night: “Everything is eaten up once more; we have only half a loaf in the house, and when that’s done it’s all up with us. The children must be got rid of; we’ll lead them deeper into the wood this time, so that they won’t be able to find their way out again. There is no other way of saving ourselves.” The man’s heart smote him heavily, and he thought: “Surely it would be better to share the last bite with one’s children!” But his wife wouldn’t listen to his arguments, and did nothing but scold and reproach him. If a man yields once he’s done for, and so, because he had given in the first time, he was forced to do so the second.

But the children were awake, and had heard the conversation. When the old people were asleep Hansel got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles again, as he had done the first time; but the woman had barred the door, and Hansel couldn’t get out. But he consoled his little sister, and said: “Don’t cry, Grettel, and sleep peacefully, for God is sure to help us.”

At early dawn the woman came and made the children get up. They received their bit of bread, but it was even smaller than the time before. On the way to the wood Hansel crumbled it in his pocket, and every few minutes he stood still and dropped a crumb on the ground. “Hansel, what are you stopping and looking about you for?” said the father. “I’m looking back at my little pigeon, which is sitting on the roof waving me a farewell,” answered Hansel. “Fool!” said the wife; “that isn’t your pigeon, it’s the morning sun glittering on the chimney.” But Hansel gradually threw all his crumbs on the path. The woman led the children still deeper into the forest farther than they had ever been in their lives before. Then a big fire was lit again, and the mother said: “Just sit down there, children, and if you’re tired you can sleep a bit; we’re going into the forest to cut down wood, and in the evening when we’re finished we’ll come back to fetch you.” At midday Grettel divided her bread with Hansel, for he had strewn his all along their path. Then they fell asleep, and evening passed away, but nobody came to the poor children. They didn’t awake till it was pitch dark, and Hansel comforted his sister, saying: “Only wait, Grettel, till the moon rises, then we shall see the bread-crumbs I scattered along the path; they will show us the way back to the house.” When the moon appeared they got up, but they found no crumbs, for the thousands of birds that fly about the woods and fields had picked them all up. “Never mind,” said Hansel to Gret- tel; “you’ll see we’ll find a way out”; but all the same they did not. They wandered about the whole night, and the next day, from morning till evening, but they could not find a path out of the wood. They were very hungry, too, for they had nothing to eat but a few berries they found growing on the ground. And at last they were so tired that their legs refused to carry them any longer, so they lay down under a tree and fell fast asleep.

On the third morning after they had left their father’s house they set about their wandering again, but only got deeper and deeper into the wood, and now they felt that if help did not come to them soon they must perish. At midday they saw a beautiful little snow-white bird sitting on a branch, which sang so sweetly that they stopped still and listened to it. And when its song was finished it flapped its wings and flew on in front of them. They followed it and came to a little house, on the roof of which it perched; and when they came quite near they saw that the cottage was made of bread and roofed with cakes, while the window was made of transparent sugar. “Now we’ll set to,” said Hansel, “and have a regular blow-out.[1] I’ll eat a bit of the roof, and you, Grettel, can eat some of the window, which you’ll find a sweet morsel.” Hansel stretched up his hand and broke off a little bit of the roof to see what it was like, and Grettel went to the casement and began to nibble at it. Thereupon a shrill voice called out from the room inside:

“Nibble, nibble, little mouse, Who’s nibbling my house?”

The children answered:

“Tis Heaven’s own child, The tempest wild,”

and went on eating, without putting themselves about. Hansel, who thoroughly appreciated the roof, tore down a big bit of it, while Grettel pushed out a whole round window-pane, and sat down the better to enjoy it. Suddenly the door opened, and an ancient dame leaning on a staff hobbled out. Hansel and Grettel were so terrified that they let what they had in their hands fall. But the old woman shook her head and said: “Oh, ho! you dear children, who led you here? Just come in and stay with me, no ill shall befall you.” She took them both by the hand and let them into the house, and laid a most sumptuous dinner before them–milk and sugared pancakes, with apples and nuts. After they had finished, two beautiful little white beds were prepared for them, and when Hansel and Grettel lay down in them they felt as if they had got into heaven.

[1] He was a vulgar boy!

The old woman had appeared to be most friendly, but she was really an old witch who had waylaid the children, and had only built the little bread house in order to lure them in. When anyone came into her power she killed, cooked, and ate him, and held a regular feast-day for the occasion. Now witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but, like beasts, they have a keen sense of smell, and know when human beings pass by. When Hansel and Grettel fell into her hands she laughed maliciously, and said jeeringly: “I’ve got them now; they sha’n't escape me.” Early in the morning, before the children were awake, she rose up, and when she saw them both sleeping so peacefully, with their round rosy cheeks, she muttered to herself: “That’ll be a dainty bite.” Then she seized Hansel with her bony hand and carried him into a little stable, and barred the door on him; he might scream as much as he liked, it did him no good. Then she went to Grettel, shook her till she awoke, and cried: “Get up, you lazy-bones, fetch water and cook something for your brother. When he’s fat I’ll eat him up.” Grettel began to cry bitterly, but it was of no use; she had to do what the wicked witch bade her.

So the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grettel got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the old woman hobbled out to the stable and cried: “Hansel, put out your finger, that I may feel if you are getting fat.” But Hansel always stretched out a bone, and the old dame, whose eyes were dim, couldn’t see it, and thinking always it was Hansel’s finger, wondered why he fattened so slowly. When four weeks had passed and Hansel still remained thin, she lost patience and determined to wait no longer. “Hi, Grettel,” she called to the girl, abe quick and get some water. Hansel may be fat or thin, I’m going to kill him to-morrow and cook him.” Oh! how the poor little sister sobbed as she carried the water, and how the tears rolled down her cheeks! “Kind heaven help us now!” she cried; “if only the wild beasts in the wood had eaten us, then at least we should have died together.” “Just hold your peace,” said the old hag; “it won’t help you.”

Early in the morning Grettel had to go out and hang up the kettle full of water, and light the fire. “First we’ll bake,” said the old dame; “I’ve heated the oven already and kneaded the dough.” She pushed Grettel out to the oven, from which fiery flames were already issuing. “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it’s properly heated, so that we can shove in the bread.” For when she had got Grettel in she meant to close the oven and let the girl bake, that she might eat her up too. But Grettel perceived her intention, and said: “I don’t know how I’m to do it; how do I get in?” “You silly goose!” said the hag, “the opening is big enough; see, I could get in myself,” and she crawled toward it, and poked her head into the oven. Then Grettel gave her a shove that sent her right in, shut the iron door, and drew the bolt. Gracious! how she yelled, it was quite horrible; but Grettel fled, and the wretched old woman was left to perish miserably.

Grettel flew straight to Hansel, opened the little stable- door, and cried: “Hansel, we are free; the old witch is dead.” Then Hansel sprang like a bird out of a cage when the door is opened. How they rejoiced, and fell on each other’s necks, and jumped for joy, and kissed one another! And as they had no longer any cause for fear, they went in the old hag’s house, and here they found, in every corner of the room, boxes with pearls and precious stones. “These are even better than pebbles,” said Hansel, and crammed his pockets full of them; and Grettel said