Hansel and Grettel

HANSEL AND GRETTEL

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

there was a great famine in the land, he couldn’t even provide them with

daily bread. 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 support 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 thus 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 plane the

boards for our coffins”; and she left him no peace till he consented.

“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 Grettel;

“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, “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!