Hansel and Gretel

Once upon a time, on the edge of a great forest, there lived a very poor woodcutter with his wife and his two children, Hansel and Gretel. The family had little to eat, and once there was a great famine in the land the man could no longer get enough food. His second wife didn’t like the children very much, so once she said to him: “There is not enough food in the house for us all. There are too many mouths to feed! We must get rid of them,” she declared. “Take them miles from home, so far that they can never find their way back! Maybe someone will find them and give them a home.”

One evening, Hansel overheard his parents talking, and comforted Gretel. “Don’t worry! If they leave us in the forest, we’ll find the way home,” he said. And so he went outside and filled his pockets with little white pebbles. Then he went back to bed. All night long, the woodcutter’s wife kept on nagging her husband. Finally, at dawn, he led Hansel and Gretel away into the forest. But as they were walking into the depths of the trees, Hansel was dropping little white pebbles on the ground. Then, at last, the woodcutter mumbled an excuse and was gone. The two children now were really alone.

Night fell but the woodcutter did not return. Gretel began to cry. Hansel too felt scared but he tried to be brave and comfort his sister: “Don’t cry, trust me! I swear I’ll take you home even if Father doesn’t come back for us!”

The moon was full that night and shined brightly. The white pebbles that Hansel dropped along the way glittered like new silver coins.

He was happy that his plan worked. “Now give me your hand!” he said. “We’ll get home safely, you’ll see!” The tiny white pebbles showed the children their way home. They crept through a half-open window, without wakening their parents. Cold and tired, but thankful to be home again, they slipped into bed.

Next day, when their stepmother discovered that Hansel and Gretel had returned, she became angry. She screamed at her husband for failing to carry out her orders. All night, husband and wife quarreled, and when dawn came, the woodcutter led the children out into the forest. But Hansel saved up some dry bread from their supper. And so now, as he walked through the trees, he left a trail of crumbs behind him to mark the way. But the little boy had forgotten about the hungry birds that lived in the forest. When they saw the crumbs, they flew down and ate them all.

After they walked deep enough into the forest, the woodcutter came up with another excuse and left his two children by themselves.

“I’ve left a trail, like last time!” Hansel whispered to Gretel. But when night fell, they saw that all the crumbs were gone.

Gretel cried bitterly: “I’m cold and hungry and I want to go home!”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here to look after you!” Hansel tried to encourage his sister, but he too was afraid. All night the two children huddled together for warmth at the foot of a large tree. In the morning, they started to look for a path home, but couldn’t find anything. They were lost. On they walked and walked, until suddenly they came upon a strange cottage in the middle of a glade.

“This is chocolate!” gasped Hansel as he broke a piece of the wall. “And this is icing!” exclaimed Gretel, putting another piece of wall in her mouth. Starving but delighted, the children began to eat pieces of candy broken off the cottage.

“Isn’t this delicious?” said Gretel, with her mouth full. She had never tasted anything so nice.

“We’ll stay here,” Hansel declared. They were just about to try a piece of the biscuit door when it quietly opened.

“Well, well!” said an old woman, peering out of the door frame. “And haven’t you children a sweet tooth? Come in! Come in, you’ve nothing to fear!”

But the old woman had only pretended to be friendly. She was a wicked witch who had built the house of bread and sugar to lure children inside. When a child came into her power she would kill it, cook it, and eat it.

She took both of them by the hand and led them into her little house. Then she set nice food before them—milk and pancakes with sugar, apples, and nuts. After that she made up two beautiful white beds for them, and Hansel and Gretel lay down in them and thought they were in heaven.

Early in the morning, before the children were awake, the witch was already up. She grabbed Hansel with her hands and shut him up in a little cage and locked it. Then she went to Gretel, shook her till she woke up, and cried, “Get up, you lazy creature, fetch some water and cook your brother something good. He has to stay in the cage and get fat. As soon as he’s fat I’ll eat him.” Gretel began to cry, but it was all no use. She had to do what the wicked witch told her to do.

Now the finest food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got nothing but crab shells. Every morning the old woman would go to the cage and cry, “Hansel, put your finger out so I can feel whether you are getting fat.” But Hansel would put out a bone, and the old woman’s eyes were so bad that she couldn’t tell the difference. So she thought he wasn’t getting fat.

Four weeks had gone by and Hansel still was as thin as ever. The witch lost patience, and didn’t want to wait any longer. “Come on Gretel, hurry up and get some water and light the oven,” she told Gretel. “We’re going to have a tasty roasted boy today!” A little later, hungry and impatient, she went on: “Run and see if the oven is hot enough. I’ve already heated the oven and kneaded the dough.”

She pushed poor Gretel up to the oven, out of which the flames were already shooting up fiercely. “Crawl in,” said the witch, “and see if it’s hot enough for us to put the bread in.”

She wanted to close the oven while Gretel was inside and eat her too. But Gretel saw what she was up to, and said: “I don’t know how to. How do I get inside?”

“The oven is big enough—why, look, I can even get in myself,” and she stuck her head in the oven. Then Gretel pushed her with all her might, so the witch fell right in, and Gretel shut the door and fastened the bolt. Oh, then she began to howl in the most dreadful way imaginable, but Gretel ran away, and the wicked witch burned to death miserably.

Gretel ran to set her brother free as fast as she could, opened the cage, and cried, “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!” Hansel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door opened. Since there wasn’t anything to fear, they went inside the witch’s house. They ate some more of the house. Then they discovered a huge chocolate egg amongst the witch’s belongings. Inside of it was a casket of gold coins and precious stones.

“These are better than pebbles,” said Hansel, and stuck as many in his pocket as he could. “We’ll take this treasure with us.”

They filled a large basket with food, stuffed the precious stones and coins in their pockets, and set off into the forest to search for the way home. This time, they were lucky. Pretty soon they came to a wood that kept looking more and more familiar, and at last in the distance they saw their father’s house. Then they started to run, burst into the living room, and threw themselves on their father’s neck. Since he had left the children in the forest, he had not had a single happy hour. Their father said, weeping, “Your stepmother is dead. You are with me now, my dear children!”

The two children hugged the woodcutter. Gretel shook out the pockets of her apron, and pearls and precious coins rolled all over the room, and Hansel threw down out of his pocket one handful after another. “Look, Father! We’re rich now… We’ll never be hungry again!”

And they all lived happily ever after together.

Thumbelina

There was once a woman who wished to have a little child. She went to a fairy, and said, “I very much would like to have a little child; can you tell me where I can find one?”

“Oh, that can be easily managed,” said the fairy. “Here is a seed; put it into a flower-pot, and see what will happen.”

“Thank you,” said the woman. Then she went home and planted it, and immediately there grew up a large handsome flower. It was like a tulip in appearance, but its leaves were tightly closed as if it were still a bud. “It is a beautiful flower,” said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden-colored leaves. Then the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower, sat a very delicate and graceful little girl. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and the woman gave her the name of “Thumbelina,” or Tiny, because she was so small. She used a walnut-shell as her for a cradle and her bed was made out of blue violet-leaves. During the day she amused herself on a table, where the woman had placed a plate full of water. Round this plate were wreaths of flowers, and upon it floated a large tulip-leaf, which served Tiny for a boat. Here she sat and rowed herself from side to side, with two oars made of white horse-hair. It really was a very pretty sight. Tiny could, also, sing so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard. One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad crept through a broken pane of glass in the window. It leaped right upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping. “What a pretty little wife this would make for my son,” said the toad, and she took up the walnut-shell in which little Tiny lay asleep, and jumped through the window with it into the garden.

The toad lived in a swamp, with her son. He was even uglier than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little girl in her elegant bed, he could only cry, “Croak, croak, croak.”

“Don’t speak so loud, or she will wake,” said the toad, “and then she might run away. We will place her on one of the water-lily leaves out in the stream; it will be like an island to her, she is so light and small, and then she cannot escape. And, while she is away, we will prepare the wedding.”

Far out in the stream grew a number of water-lilies, with broad green leaves. The largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest, and the old toad swam out to it with the walnut-shell, in which little Tiny lay asleep. The tiny little creature woke very early in the morning, and began to cry bitterly when she found where she was. She saw no way of reaching the land. Meanwhile the old toad was very busy, decking her room with wild yellow flowers, to make it look pretty for her new daughter-in-law. Then she swam out with her son to the leaf. The old toad bowed low, and said, “Here is my son, he will be your husband, and you will live happily in the swamp.”

“Croak, croak, croak,” was all her son could say for himself. The toad took the elegant little bed, for she wanted to put it in the new room, and left Tiny all alone on the green leaf. She could not bear to think of living with the old toad, and having her son for a husband.

The little fishes that swam in the water beneath, had seen the toad, and heard what she said. As soon as they saw Tiny, it made them very sorry to think that she must go and live with the toads. “No, it must never be!” they said. So they assembled together in the water, and gnawed away the stem of the lily with their teeth. Then the leaf floated down the stream.

Tiny sailed past many towns, and the leaf floated away farther and farther, till it brought her to other lands. Now the toad could not possibly reach her, and she was happy.

A large bug flew by; the moment he caught sight of her, he took her around her waist with his claws, and flew with her into a tree. Oh, how frightened little Tiny felt! The bug put her down on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat, and told her she was very pretty. He wanted to show her to the other bugs. But when he did, they all said, “She has only two legs! How ugly that looks.”

“Oh! She is ugly,” said all the lady bugs. And so, even though the bug ran away with Tiny, he believed all the others when they said she was ugly. He told her to go away. Then he flew down with her from the tree, and placed her on a daisy.

During the whole summer poor little Tiny lived quite alone in the wide forest. She wove herself a bed with blades of grass, and hung it up under a leaf, to protect herself from the rain. She sucked the honey from the flowers for food, and drank the dew from their leaves every morning. So passed away the summer and the autumn, and then came the winter—the long, cold winter. All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly flew away, and the trees and the flowers had withered. The large clover leaf under which she lived, was now rolled together and shrivelled up. She felt cold. It began to snow too; and the snow-flakes, as they fell upon her, were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us.

Near the wood in which she had been living was a corn-field, but the corn had been cut a long time. The field was full of dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her like struggling through a large wood. At last she came to the door of a field-mouse. Her house was warm, with a whole roomful of corn, a kitchen, and a beautiful dining room. Poor little Tiny stood before the door just like a little beggar-girl, and begged for a small piece of corn.

“You poor little creature,” said the field-mouse, “come into my warm room and dine with me. You are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter, if you like; but you must keep my rooms clean and neat, and tell me stories.” And Tiny did all the field-mouse asked her, and found herself very comfortable.

“We shall have a visitor soon,” said the field-mouse one day; “my neighbor pays me a visit once a week. He is better off than I am; he has large rooms, and wears a beautiful black velvet coat. If you could only have him for a husband. But he is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest stories.”

But Tiny was not interested in this neighbor, for he was a mole. He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he didn’t like the sun and the pretty flowers, because he had never seen them. Tiny was obliged to sing to him. And the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice. A short time before, the mole had dug a long passage between the house of the field-mouse and his own, and here Tiny could walk whenever she liked. The mole warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which lay in the passage. It was a perfect bird, with a beak and feathers, and could not have been dead long. The mole took Tiny and the field-mouse to the bird. When they came to it, they saw it was a swallow: his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides, his feet and his head drawn up under his feathers. The bird had died of the cold. It made little Tiny very sad to see it. When the two others had turned their backs on the bird, she stroked aside the soft feathers which covered the head, and kissed the closed eyelids. “Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer,” she said; “and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear, pretty bird.”

During the night Tiny could not sleep; so she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet of hay; then she carried it to the dead bird, and spread it over him. It was as soft as wool, and she spread some of it on each side of the bird, so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth. “Farewell, you pretty little bird,” said she, “thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all the trees were green, and the warm sun shone upon us.” Then she laid her head on the bird’s breast, and heard a soft “thump, thump.” It was the bird’s heart; he was not really dead, only sleeping in the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life. In autumn, all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens to be late, it becomes frozen and falls down as if dead. Tiny was frightened, for the bird was large, larger than herself. But she laid the wool more thickly over the poor swallow, and then put a leaf over the head of the poor bird.

The next morning she again went to see him. He was alive but very weak; he could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Tiny. “Thank you, pretty little girl,” said the swallow; “I will soon regain my strength, and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine.”

“Oh,” said she, “it is cold outside now. Stay in your warm bed; I will take care of you.”

Then she brought the swallow some water in a flower-leaf. After he had drank, he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn-bush, and could not fly as fast as the others. Then at last he had fallen to the earth, and could remember no more. The whole winter the swallow remained underground, and Tiny cared for him. Neither the mole nor the field-mouse knew anything about it.

Very soon the spring time came, and the sun warmed the earth. The swallow bade farewell to Tiny, and she opened the hole in the ceiling which the mole had made. The sun shone in upon them so beautifully, that the swallow asked her if she would go with him. But Tiny knew it would make the field-mouse very sad if she left her in that manner, so she said, “No, I cannot.”

“Farewell, then, farewell, you good, pretty little girl,” said the swallow; and he flew out into the sunshine.

Tiny looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes. She was very fond of the poor swallow.

“Tweet, tweet,” sang the bird, as he flew out into the green woods, and Tiny felt very sad. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine. The corn around the house of the field-mouse had grown up high into the air, and formed a thick wood to her.

“You are going to be married, Tiny,” said the field-mouse. “My neighbor has asked for you. What good fortune for a poor child like you. Now we will prepare your wedding clothes.”

Tiny had to turn the spindle, and the field-mouse hired four spiders, who were weaving day and night. Every evening the mole visited her, and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over. Now the heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth, and made it quite hard, like a stone. The mole didn’t like that. As soon as the summer was over, the wedding was to take place. But Tiny was not at all pleased; for she did not like the mole.

When autumn arrived, Tiny had her outfit quite ready; and the field-mouse said to her, “In four weeks the wedding must take place.”

Then Tiny wept, and said she would not marry the mole.

“Nonsense,” replied the field-mouse. “He is a very handsome mole. His kitchen and cellars are quite full. You ought to be very thankful for such good fortune.”

On her wedding day, Tiny went to the door to look at the sun once more, before she would go to live with the mole in the dark.

“Farewell bright sun,” she cried, stretching out her arm towards it. She walked a short distance from the house; for the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble remained in the fields.

“Tweet, tweet,” sounded over her head suddenly. She looked up, and there was the swallow himself flying close by. As soon as he spied Tiny, he was delighted. She told him how she didn’t want to marry the ugly mole, and to live always beneath the earth.

“Cold winter is coming,” said the swallow, “and I am going to fly away into warmer countries. Will you go with me? You can sit on my back. Then we can fly away from the ugly mole. Fly now with me, dear little Tiny; you saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark.”

“Yes, I will go with you,” said Tiny; and she seated herself on the bird’s back.

The swallow rose in the air, and flew over forest and over sea, high above the highest mountains, covered with snow.

At last they reached the warm countries, where the sun shined brightly, and the sky seemed so much higher above the earth. Here, on the hedges, and by the wayside, grew purple, green, and white grapes; lemons and oranges hung from trees in the woods; and the air was fragrant with orange blossoms.

They came to a blue lake. By the side of it stood a palace of dazzling white marble. At the top were many swallows’ nests, and one of these was the home of the swallow who carried Tiny.

“This is my house,” said the swallow; “but it would not do for you to live there—you would not be comfortable. You must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers, and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you can wish to make you happy.”

“That will be delightful,” she said, and clapped her little hands for joy.

A large marble pillar lay on the ground, broken into three pieces. Between these pieces grew the most beautiful large white flowers; so the swallow flew down with Tiny, and placed her on one of them. But how surprised she was to see in the middle of the flower, a tiny little man, as white and transparent as if he had been made of crystal! He had a gold crown on his head, and delicate wings at his shoulders, and was not much larger than Tiny herself. He was the angel of the flower; for a tiny man and a tiny woman dwell in every flower; and this was the king of them all.

“Oh, how beautiful he is!” whispered Tiny to the swallow.

The little prince was at first quite frightened at the bird, who was like a giant compared to such a little creature as himself. But when he saw Tiny, he was delighted, and thought she was the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen. He took the gold crown from his head, and placed it on hers, and asked her name, and if she would be his wife, and queen over all the flowers.

This certainly was a very different sort of husband to the son of a toad, or the mole, so she said, “Yes,” to the handsome prince. Then all the flowers opened, and out of each came a little lady or a tiny lord. Each of them brought Tiny a present; but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings. They fastened them to Tiny’s shoulders, so that she might fly from flower to flower. Then there was much rejoicing, and the swallow, who sat above them, in his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he did as well as he could.