But the old man"s daughter was a very good sweet girl; nevertheless her stepmother hated her; she was always tormenting her, and wishing her dead.
One day she had beaten her very cruelly, and pushed her out of doors; then she said to the old man:
"Your wretched daughter is always giving me trouble; she is such an ill-tempered, spoilt hussy, that I cannot do anything with her. So if you wish for peace in the house, you must put her into your waggon, drive her away into the forest, and come back without her."
The old man was very sorry to have to do this; for he loved his own little daughter most dearly. But he was so afraid of his wife that he dared not refuse; so he put the poor girl into his waggon, drove a long way into the forest, took her out, and left her there alone.
She wandered about a long time, gathering wild strawberries, to eat with a little piece of bread, which her father had given her. Towards evening she came to the door of a hut in the forest, and knocked at the door.
n.o.body answered her knock. So she lifted the latch, went in, and looked round--there was n.o.body there.
But there was a table in one corner, and benches all round the walls, and an oven by the door. And near the table, close to the window, was a spinning-wheel, and a quant.i.ty of flax.
The girl sat down to the spinning-wheel, and opened the window, looked out, and listened; but n.o.body came.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GOOD LITTLE GIRL IS SENT AWAY]
But as it grew dusk she heard a rustle not far off, and from somewhere not far from the hut, a voice was heard, singing:
"Wanderer, outcast, forsaken!
Whom the night has overtaken; If no crime your conscience stain, In this hut to-night remain."
When the voice ceased, she answered:
"I am outcast and forsaken; Yet unstained by crime am I: Be you rich, or be you poor; For this night here let me lie!"
Once more there was a rustle in the branches; the door opened, and there came into the room--a bear!
The girl started up, very frightened; but the bear only said:
"Good evening, pretty maiden!"
"Good evening to you, whoever you are," she replied, somewhat rea.s.sured.
"How did you come here?" he asked. "Was it of your own free will, or by compulsion?"
The maiden told him all, weeping; but the bear sat down beside her, and stroking her face with his paw, replied:
"Do not cry, pretty one; you shall be happy yet. But in the meantime you must do just what I tell you. Do you see that flax? You must spin it into thread; of that thread you must weave cloth, and of that cloth you must make me a shirt. I shall come here to-morrow at this same time, and if the shirt is ready I will reward you. Good-bye!"
So saying the bear made her a parting bow, and went out. At first the girl began to cry, and said to herself:
"How can I do this in only twenty-four hours--spin all that flax, weave it into cloth, and make a shirt out of it? Well! I must set to work! and do what I can.... He will at least see that my will was good, though I was unable to perform the task."
Thus saying, she dried her tears, ate some of her bread and strawberries, sat down to the spinning-wheel, and began to spin by the light of the moon.
The time went by quickly, as she worked, and it was daylight before she knew.
And there was no more flax left; she had spun out the last distaff-full.
She was astonished to see how fast the work had gone, and began to wonder how she was to weave the thread without any loom.
Thinking, she fell asleep.
When she woke the sun was already high in the heavens. There was breakfast ready on the table, and a loom under the window.
She ran down to the neighbouring brook, washed her face and hands, came back, said grace, and ate her breakfast; then she sat down to the loom.
The shuttle flew so fast that the cloth was all ready by noon.
She took it out into a meadow, sprinkled it from the brook, spread it out in the sun, and in one hour the cloth was bleached.
She came back with it to the hut, cut out the shirt, and began to st.i.tch at it diligently.
The twilight was falling, and she was just putting in the last st.i.tch, when the door opened, and the bear came in, and asked:
"Is the shirt ready?"
She gave it to him.
"Thank you, my good girl; now I must reward you. You told me you had a bad stepmother; if you like, I will send my bears to tear her and her daughter in pieces."
"Oh! don"t do that! I don"t want to be revenged; let them live!"
"Let it be so then! Meanwhile make yourself useful in the kitchen; get me some porridge for supper. You will find everything you want in the cupboard in the wall; but I will go and fetch my bedding, for I shall spend to-night at home."
The bear left the room, and the maiden made up the fire in the oven, and began to get the porridge ready.
Just then she heard a sound under the bench, and there ran out a poor, lean little mouse, which stood up on its hind-legs, and said in human tones:
"Mistress! help me lest I die A poor weak, little mouse am I!
I am hungry, give me food; And to you will I be good."
The girl was sorry for the mouse, and threw it a spoonful of porridge.
The mouse ate it, thanked her, and ran away to its hole.
The bear soon came in, with a load of wood and stones; these he laid upon the stove, and having eaten a basin of porridge, he climbed upon the stove, and said:
"Here, girl, is a bunch of keys on a steel ring. Put out the fire; but you must walk about the room all night, and keep on jingling these keys, till I get up; and if I find you alive in the morning you shall be happy."
The bear began snoring directly, and the old man"s daughter kept walking about the hut, jingling the keys.
Soon the mouse ran out of its hole, and said:
"Give me the keys, mistress, I will jingle them for you; but you must hide yourself behind the stove, for the stones will soon be flying about."
So the mouse began to run up and down by the wall, under the bench. The maiden hid behind the oven, and about midnight the bear woke up, and threw out a stone into the middle of the room.