The Blue Fairy Book
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, “be 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:
“I too will bring something home,” and she filled her apron full. “But
now,” said Hansel, “let’s go and get well away from the witch’s wood.”
When they had wandered about for some hours they came to a big lake.
“We can’t get over,” said Hansel; “I see no bridge of any sort or kind.”
“Yes, and there’s no ferry-boat either,” answered Grettel; “but look,
there swims a white duck; if I ask her she’ll help us over,” and she
called out:
“Here are two children, mournful very,
Seeing neither bridge nor ferry;
Take us upon your white back,
And row us over, quack, quack!”
The duck swam toward them, and Hansel got on her back and bade his
little sister sit beside him. “No,” answered Grettel, “we should be too
heavy a load for the duck: she shall carry us across separately.” The
good bird did this, and when they were landed safely on the other side,
and had gone for a while, the wood became more and more familiar to
them, and at length they saw their father’s house in the distance. Then
they set off to run, and bounding into the room fell on their father’s
neck. The man had not passed a happy hour since he left them in the
wood, but the woman had died. Grettel shook out her apron so that the
pearls and precious stones rolled about the room, and Hansel threw down
one handful after the other out of his pocket. Thus all their troubles
were ended, and they lived happily ever afterward.
My story is done. See! there runs a little mouse; anyone who catches it
may make himself a large fur cap out of it.(1)
(1) Grimm.
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED
A poor widow once lived in a little cottage with a garden in front of
it, in which grew two rose trees, one bearing white roses and the other
red. She had two children, who were just like the two rose trees; one
was called Snow-white and the other Rose-red, and they were the sweetest
and best children in the world, always diligent and always cheerful; but
Snow-white was quieter and more gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red loved
to run about the fields and meadows, and to pick flowers and catch
butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother and helped her
in the household, or read aloud to her when there was no work to do. The
two children loved each other so dearly that they always walked about
hand in hand whenever they went out together, and when Snow-white said,
“We will never desert each other,” Rose-red answered: “No, not as long
as we live”; and the mother added: “Whatever one gets she shall share
with the other.” They often roamed about in the woods gathering berries
and no beast offered to hurt them; on the contrary, they came up to them
in the most confiding manner; the little hare would eat a cabbage leaf
from their hands, the deer grazed beside them, the stag would bound past
them merrily, and the birds remained on the branches and sang to them
with all their might.
No evil ever befell them; if they tarried late in the wood and night
overtook them, they lay down together on the moss and slept till
morning, and their mother knew they were quite safe, and never felt
anxious about them. Once, when they had slept all night in the wood and
had been wakened by the morning sun, they perceived a beautiful child
in a shining white robe sitting close to their resting-place. The figure
got up, looked at them kindly, but said nothing, and vanished into the
wood. And when they looked round about them they became aware that they
had slept quite close to a precipice, over which they would certainly
have fallen had they gone on a few steps further in the darkness. And
when they told their mother of their adventure, she said what they had
seen must have been the angel that guards good children.
Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother’s cottage so beautifully clean
and neat that it was a pleasure to go into it. In summer Rose-red looked
after the house, and every morning before her mother awoke she placed
a bunch of flowers before the bed, from each tree a rose. In winter
Snow-white lit the fire and put on the kettle, which was made of brass,
but so beautifully polished that it shone like gold. In the evening when
the snowflakes fell their mother said: “Snow-white, go and close the
shutters,” and they drew round the fire, while the mother put on her
spectacles and read aloud from a big book and the two girls listened and
sat and span. Beside them on the ground lay a little lamb, and behind
them perched a little white dove with its head tucked under its wings.
One evening as they sat thus cosily together someone knocked at the door
as though he desired admittance. The mother said: “Rose-red, open
the door quickly; it must be some traveler seeking shelter.” Rose-red
hastened to unbar the door, and thought she saw a poor man standing in
the darkness outside; but it was no such thing, only a bear, who poked
his thick black head through the door. Rose-red screamed aloud and
sprang back in terror, the lamb began to bleat, the dove flapped its
wings, and Snow-white ran and hid behind her mother’s bed. But the bear
began to speak, and said: “Don’t be afraid: I won’t hurt you. I am half
frozen, and only wish to warm myself a little.” “My poor bear,” said the
mother, “lie down by the fire, only take care you don’t burn your fur.”
Then she called out: “Snow-white and Rose-red, come out; the bear will
do you no harm; he is a good, honest creature.” So they both came out of
their hiding-places, and gradually the lamb and dove drew near too, and
they all forgot their fear. The bear asked the children to beat the snow
a little out of his fur, and they fetched a brush and scrubbed him till
he was dry. Then the beast stretched himself in front of the fire, and
growled quite happily and comfortably. The children soon grew quite at
their ease with him, and led their helpless guest a fearful life. They
tugged his fur with their hands, put their small feet on his back, and
rolled him about here and there, or took a hazel wand and beat him
with it; and if he growled they only laughed. The bear submitted to
everything with the best possible good-nature, only when they went too
far he cried: “Oh! children, spare my life!
“Snow-white and Rose-red,
Don’t beat your lover dead.”
When it was time to retire for the night, and the others went to bed,
the mother said to the bear: “You can lie there on the hearth, in
heaven’s name; it will be shelter for you from the cold and wet.” As
soon as day dawned the children led him out, and he trotted over the
snow into the wood. From this time on the bear came every evening at
the same hour, and lay down by the hearth and let the children play what
pranks they liked with him; and they got so accustomed to him that the
door was never shut till their black friend had made his appearance.
When spring came, and all outside was green, the bear said one morning
to Snow-white: “Now I must go away, and not return again the whole
summer.” “Where are you going to, dear bear?” asked Snow-white. “I
must go to the wood and protect my treasure from the wicked dwarfs.
In winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged to remain
underground, for they can’t work their way through; but now, when the
sun has thawed and warmed the ground, they break through and come up
above to spy the land and steal what they can; what once falls into
their hands and into their caves is not easily brought back to light.”
Snow-white was quite sad over their friend’s departure, and when she
unbarred the door for him, the bear, stepping out, caught a piece of
his fur in the door-knocker, and Snow-white thought she caught sight of
glittering gold beneath it, but she couldn’t be certain of it; and the
bear ran hastily away, and soon disappeared behind the trees.
A short time after this the mother sent the children into the wood to
collect fagots. They came in their wanderings upon a big tree which lay
felled on the ground, and on the trunk among the long grass they
noticed something jumping up and down, but what it was they couldn’t
distinguish. When they approached nearer they perceived a dwarf with a
wizened face and a beard a yard long. The end of the beard was jammed
into a cleft of the tree, and the little man sprang about like a dog
on a chain, and didn’t seem to know what he was to do. He glared at the
girls with his fiery red eyes, and screamed out: “What are you standing
there for? Can’t you come and help me?” “What were you doing, little
man?” asked Rose-red. “You stupid, inquisitive goose!” replied the
dwarf; “I wanted to split the tree, in order to get little chips of
wood for our kitchen fire; those thick logs that serve to make fires for
coarse, greedy people like yourselves quite burn up all the little food
we need. I had successfully driven in the wedge, and all was going well,
but the cursed wood was so slippery that it suddenly sprang out, and the
tree closed up so rapidly that I had no time to take my beautiful white
beard out, so here I am stuck fast, and I can’t get away; and you silly,
smooth-faced, milk-and-water girls just stand and laugh! Ugh! what
wretches you are!”
The children did all in their power, but they couldn’t get the beard