Румпельштильцхен

           Bythesideofawood,inacountryalongwayoff,ranafinestreamofwater;anduponthestreamtherestoodamill.Themiller’shousewascloseby,andthemiller,youmustknow,hadaverybeautifuldaughter.Shewas,moreover,veryshrewdandclever;andthemillerwassoproudofher,thatheonedaytoldthekingoftheland,whousedtocomeandhuntinthewood,thathisdaughtercouldspingoldoutofstraw.Nowthiskingwasveryfondofmoney;andwhenheheardthemiller’sboasthisgreedinesswasraised,andhesentforthegirltobebroughtbeforehim.Thenheledhertoachamberinhispalacewheretherewasagreatheapofstraw,andgaveheraspinning-wheel,andsaid,‘Allthismustbespunintogoldbeforemorning,asyouloveyourlife.’Itwasinvainthatthepoormaidensaidthatitwasonlyasillyboastofherfather,forthatshecoulddonosuchthingasspinstrawintogold:thechamberdoorwaslocked,andshewasleftalone.

           Shesatdowninonecorneroftheroom,andbegantobewailherhardfate;whenonasuddenthedooropened,andadroll-lookinglittlemanhobbledin,andsaid,‘Goodmorrowtoyou,mygoodlass;whatareyouweepingfor?’‘Alas!’saidshe,‘Imustspinthisstrawintogold,andIknownothow.’‘Whatwillyougiveme,’saidthehobgoblin,‘todoitforyou?’‘Mynecklace,’repliedthemaiden.