The Name of the Helper
Folktales of type 500,in which a mysterious and threatening helper is defeated
when the heroine discovers his name
translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2000
translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2000
Once upon a time there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he got into a conversation with the king and said to him: "I have a daughter who knows the art of turning straw into gold."
So the king immediately sent for the miller's daughter and ordered her to turn a whole room full of straw into gold in one night. And if she could not do it, she would have to die. She was locked in the room, and she sat there and cried, because for her life she did not know how the straw would turn into gold.
Then suddenly a little man appeared before her, and said: "What will you give me, if I turn this all into gold?" She took off her necklace and gave it to the little man, and he did what he had promised.
The next morning the king found the room filled with gold, and his heart became even more greedy. He put the miller's daughter into an even larger room filled with straw, and told her to turn it into gold. The little man came again. She gave him a ring from her hand, and he turned it all into gold.
The third night the king had her locked in a third room, which was larger than the first two, and entirely filled with straw. "If you succeed this time, I'll make you my wife," he said.
Then the little man came and said, "I'll do it again, but you must promise me the first child that you have with the king."
In her distress she made the promise, and when the king saw that this straw too had been turned into gold, he took the miller's daughter as his wife.
Soon thereafter the queen delivered a child. Then the little man appeared before her and demanded the child that had been promised him. The queen begged him to let her keep the child, offering him great riches in its place.
Finally he said, "I'll be back to get the child in three days. But if by then you know my name, you can keep the child.!"
For two days the queen pondered what the little man's name might be, but she could not think of anything, and became very sad. On the third day the king came home from a hunt and told her how, two days earlier, while hunting deep in a dark forest, he had come upon a little house. A comical little man was there, jumping about as if on one leg, and crying out:
Today I'll bake; tomorrow I'll brew.
Then I'll fetch the queen's new child.
It is good that no one knows
Rumpelstiltskin is my name.
The queen was overjoyed to hear this.
Then the dangerous little man arrived and asked: "Your majesty, what is my name?"
"Is your name Conrad?"
"No."
"Is your name Heinrich?"
"No."
"Then could your name be Rumpelstiltskin?"
"The devil told you that!" shouted the little man. He ran away angrily, and never came back.
Source: Jacob and Wilheml Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin, 1812), v. 1, no. 55.
In a city there was a wonderfully beautiful but poor girl. A merchant fell in love with her and asked her to marry him. However, because merchants expect a rich dowry, before the wedding she gave herself over to the devil. Thus the devil brought her great wealth under the condition that she would have to discover his name within one year, otherwise the devil would take her.
The year's end was approaching, and she still did not know the devil's name.
One night a shepherd was lying in his hut just outside the city when he saw a fire not far away. Walking toward the fire, he came to a hill. There he saw various beings dancing around. One of them was particularly cheerful as he jumped around the fire, singing:
It is good; it is good,
That Mistress Beautiful does not know,
That my name is Hipche, Hipche.
The next day the shepherd want to the merchant's wife and told her what he had seen and heard. She took note of the name, and when the year had come to an end, the devil appeared before her, and she stated the name: Hipche.
Thus the devil was defeated, and Mistress Beautiful lived happily and prosperously with her merchant. With the money that she had received from the devil, their trade expanded across the land and over the sea.
In a great forest there once lived a cowherd and a shepherd, and they helped one another in times of need. The cowherd had a daughter and the shepherd a son. From their childhood on they were inseparable, and the older they became the fonder they grew of each other. Thus, when they came of age the shepherd's son proposed to the shepherd's daughter, and she was promised to him in marriage.
Some time later an ugly dwarf approached the cowherd and asked for the daughter's hand in marriage. He brought many valuable presents for the mother and the daughter. The daughter could not stand the dwarf, because he was so ugly, and she did not want to marry a dwarf in any event. The mother did not like him either, but that did not stop her from accepting his presents.
One day he returned, again with many costly things, but this time the mother said, "You are not going to get my daughter, no matter how many presents you bring."
The daughter added, "I do not want your presents at all, and I want you even less!"
Then the dwarf became very angry, threw the costly things on the floor, and replied to the mother, "It's not that simple to get rid of me! Earlier you accepted my presents, and I want to be paid for them. I will return tomorrow at noon. If by then you know my name, then you may keep your daughter, otherwise I will take her by force!"
With that the dwarf disappeared. Great concern now ruled the cowherd's household.
Now the shepherd's son, while watching over his sheep in the forest, had often seen the dwarf, but every time he had approached him, the dwarf had disappeared. On this day he was watching over his sheep in the vicinity of a cave, and this was the dwarf's cave. The shepherd stood there, leaning on his staff, when suddenly the dwarf came by, as though he were being driven through the forest by a windstorm, and he disappeared into the cave. At the cave's entrance there was a yellow flower that the shepherd's son had often admired because of its unusual color and shape. Before entering the cave, the dwarf had touched the flower. A loud sound came from within the cave. The shepherd's son listened, and he heard the dwarf sing:
Here I sit,The shepherd's son took note of the name, because it seemed so very unusual to him. That evening when he visited his sweetheart, and noticed her concern, he told her everything that had happened, and comforted her. The mother repeated the name over and over again until it came easily to her, and now they were no longer fearful about the dwarf's return.
Carving gold,
My name is
Holzrührlein Bonneführlein.
If the mother knew that,
She could keep her daughter.
The next day at noon he appeared as announced. He stepped up to the mother and said sarcastically, "Now my dear lady, do you know my name?"
The mother pretended to be afraid and answered, "Oh, what could your name be? Are you not called Mäuserich?"
The dwarf laughed and said, "Not even close!"
"Is your name perhaps Ruppsteert?"
"Wrong again!" laughed the dwarf.
"Oh, what are you called then? Your name wouldn't be Holzrührlein Bonneführlein, now would it?"
The dwarf disappeared in an instant, and he was never heard from nor seen again. The shepherd's son married the cowherd's daughter, and they lived long and happy lives together.
Once upon a time there was a girl whose task it was to spin a certain quantity of flax every day. However, she could never complete her work. Then one day a man came to her who promised her that he would spin the flax for her every day if she could guess his name. But the girl could not guess his name. Then the man went away and turned himself into a bird. Flying happily back and forth it cried out:
God is dat, god is dat,
Dat de Diern nich weet,
Dat ick Nägendümer heet.It is good, it is good,
That the girl does not know
That my name is Nägendümer.
A shepherd who was herding his flock nearby heard this, and he told it to the girl.
Sometime later the man returned to the girl and repeated his offer.
She said to him, "Your name is Nägendümer!"
The man answered, "A bad person told you that!" But he kept his promise, and from then on he spun all her flax every day.
A long time ago near Sandbühl there lived an elf. He was scarcely three spans tall. He often ran around dressed in only a shirt, which angered the people, but otherwise he did not get in their way. On the contrary did them many favors. He cut straw for them, tended their cows, and helped them with work at home and in the field. He also provided the sick with healing herbs and rescued many children from death.
One time a beautiful peasant girl was gored by a steer. She screamed aloud and called for help. The friendly elf came immediately, comforted her, and promised to help and rescue her, if she would marry him and go with him to the elf kingdom. She had no choice but to say yes, and upon her agreement the elf rescued her. Now she was supposed to go with the dwarf into the mountain, but she did not at all want to. She therefore asked the elf if he would not release her, promising him a beautiful red jacket if he would do so.
The dwarf said, "I can easily get a red jacket. However, if you can guess my name within three days, you shall be released from you promise."
The girl was satisfied with this answer, and she went home.
She thought the entire night about the dwarf's name, but it did not come to her. The next day the girl went out to the sand hill where the elf stayed. She said all kinds of names, but none was the right one, and the dwarf said, "Go home and think about it some more."
The girl returned home and thought day and night about what the little man's name might be. The following day she went out to the sand hill again, where she found the dwarf. Then she said many, many names, but none was the right one.
The dwarf said, "Go home and think about it better, or tomorrow you will be my wife."
So the girl, with her head hanging, returned home sad and dejected. She had given up hope of guessing the dwarf's name.
But where the need is greatest, there help will come the soonest. A peasant boy was working near the sand hill, and at noontime he lay down behind the brush to rest. The elf came out of his hole in the ground, and thinking that no one was there, he clapped his hands and danced around in his little shirt while singing,
|
Gott sei Lob und Dank, |
Praise and thanks to God, |
|
Gott sei Lob und Dank, |
Praise and thanks to God, |
The peasant boy was amused by the dwarf's antics, and that evening when he went to the girl's house to visit, he laughingly told her what he had seen and heard that day in the meadow near Sandbühl. The girl was now happy beyond measure and no longer had any fears or concerns.
Early in the morning of the following day she went up to the sand hill. She took a red jacket for the dwarf, for she wanted to give him something for rescuing her. When the tiny little man saw her coming he was filled with joy, and said, "Now tell me, what is my name?"
The girl said, "Putzli."
Then the dwarf laughed and asked her once again.
The girl said, "Nudi."
Then the elf laughed until he shook, and said, "Guess once again!"
Then the girl answered, "Would your name be Kugerl?" and gave him the red jacket.
Then the dwarf began to cry and to moan, and carrying the jacket he went out into the woods. Since that hour he has not been seen again, and no one knows where he went.
Ages ago, in olden times, there lived a powerful count. All the lands far and wide belonged to him, and he had everything that his heart desired. He shared his wealth and his happiness with a good wife, who was as beautiful as the day and as dear as an angel. They had lived together happily together for several months, and the days seemed to them to be as short as minutes. One day the count was out hunting and went deeper and deeper into the forest. In the heat of the hunt he went further than ever before, and he became separated a good distance from the rest of his party. As he stood there alone in the forest, a dwarf suddenly appeared before him. The little forest dweller was only three feet tall, and his full beard reached his knees. Angrily he rolled his fiery red eyes and said, "What are you doing here? This is my realm, and you must pay a penalty to me. If you do not give me your wife, you shall not leave this forest alive."
The count was considerably frightened by the dwarf's appearance and his angry words, for he had often heard all kinds of spooky stories about strength and the wickedness of the little man of the forest. His old nurse had told him these stories when he was but a child. What was he to do? This was a critical situation. The frightened count did not know how to escape other than to try to beg and talk his way out.
"Forgive me," said the count, "that I have trespassed upon your realm. I did not know that it was yours, and I will certainly never do it again."
But the wild dwarf would not be pacified, and he said, "What I have said to you must happen. Either you or she."
"Demand what else you will, and I shall give it to you," said the count, "but do not insist upon this."
Then the little man appeared to reconsider, and he said, "If must be so, then I will place your fate in your wife's hands. I will give you both one month's time. If she is able, in three attempts, to guess my name then she shall be yours and free -- otherwise she shall belong to me."
The count was somewhat comforted with this, but still his heart was burdened. He made his way toward home, accompanied by the little man of the forest. Both were serious, and neither spoke a word. After they had gone some distance they came to an ancient gray-bearded fir tree. The dwarf stopped here and said, "This is the boundary of my realm. I will await your wife here at this fir tree, which is nine times older than the other trees. Three times she may have three guesses! But if you do not keep your word it will go badly for both of you."
The count now walked slowly homeward, for his heart was heavy, and the closer he came to his castle, the gloomier and sadder he became. As he approached the gate, the countess, who had seen him from her window, came out to meet him. She was filled with joy and happiness, for her husband was home again. But she soon noticed that he was not happy, as he usually was, but instead looked like seven days of rainy weather. This made her sad and concerned, and she asked the count what was wrong with him.
As soon as they entered the castle and were in the sitting room, the tired and sad count told her how he had met the dwarf and how he had wanted take the countess, and what conditions he had at last agreed to.
When the countess heard this, she became as pale as a corpse, and her beautiful, fine cheeks were wet with tears. Happiness and joy had now disappeared from the castle, and everyone there became silent and sad. The countess most often sat in an alcove thinking and thinking how short her happiness had been, or she went to the castle chapel where she prayed and cried.
The count no longer went out hunting nor to the jousting matches but sat instead on his old chair, richly decorated with carvings, on which his ancestors had also sat. Supporting his head with his right hand, he contemplated, but he himself did not know about what.
Thus passed day after day and week after week, until finally there were three days left in the month. The count and countess went out into the forest, then further and further until they could see the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. The count stayed behind, and the countess proceeded alone. Otherwise it was beautiful in the forest. The birds were singing; the squirrels were jumping about or sitting there splitting pine cones; and the wild roses were blossoming so beautifully white and red. But the countess had a heavy heart as never before, and she sadly walked on until she came to the fir tree.
The dwarf, beautifully dressed in green and red, was waiting for her. A mischievous pleasure overcame him when he saw the countess, for she pleased him greatly.
"Now guess my name, Lady Countess!" he said quickly, as though he hardly expected her to do so.
Then the countess guessed, "Fir, Spruce, Pine," because she thought that for living in the forest he would certainly have the name of a tree.
The dwarf had hardly heard this when he broke out laughing and rejoicing until the entire forest resounded. "You have not guessed it!" he said gleefully. "See if you can do any better tomorrow than you did today. Otherwise you will become my wife!"
The countess, sadder still, walked away from the fir tree with downcast eyes. The dwarf stood there and smiled at her, taking pleasure in her grief. She soon found her husband, and told him how she had guessed so badly. They returned to their castle even sadder than they had left.
The rest of the day passed too fast, although it was a sad one. Evening was soon there, and night followed quickly. It was a sad and hopeless night, and neither sleep nor dreams entered the count's room.
When the first larks began to sing the next morning, the count and countess were already up and concerned about their plight. They went to the castle chapel to pray, and afterward went out into the dark green forest, then further and deeper until they saw the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. The count stayed behind and the countess proceeded alone. Otherwise it was beautiful out there in the forest. The birds were singing; the flowers were laughing and giving off their sweet scent; the squirrels were standing up like little men. But the countess had a heavy heart as never before, and with tears in her eyes she walked on until she came to the fir tree. She had scarcely arrived there when the little man of the forest walked up, dressed beautifully in blue and red. A mischievous pleasure overcame him when he saw the countess, for she pleased him greatly.
"Now guess my name, Lady Countess!" he said quickly, and smiled.
Then the countess guessed, "Oat, Buckwheat, Maize," for she thought that he might have the name of a grain.
The little elf had hardly heard this when he broke out laughing and rejoicing until the entire forest resounded. "You have not guessed it!" he said gleefully. You must do better tomorrow, or you will belong to me, and tomorrow will be my wedding."
The countess, sadder than ever before, walked away from the fir tree with wet eyes. The dwarf stood there impishly smiling at her. She soon found her husband, and told him how badly she had done. They returned to their castle even more gloomily than they had left.
The rest of the day passed under a shadow of sorrow. Evening was there before they realized it, and the dark night followed quickly. It was again a sad night, in which neither the count nor the countess closed their eyes.
As morning dawned, the count and countess were already up. They went to the castle chapel and prayed fervently. Then they went out into the beautiful green forest. It was still early, early in the morning, and many of the birds were still lying asleep in their nests. Only the brooks were rustling and murmuring, and the morning breezes were whispering through the tree branches. Otherwise it was quiet -- as quiet as in a church.
The count and countess walked until they saw the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. There the count kissed his beautiful countess, and a tear dropped onto his beard, for he did not know if he would ever see her again. The countess, however was more composed today, and her heart was not beating as quickly as it had done on the earlier occasions. She said good-bye to her husband and walked toward the fir tree. All soul alone, she stood there next to the old tree, but the dwarf was nowhere to be seen. On either side there were wild rosebushes, and they made a beautiful fence.
She walked along the path and soon came to a beautiful little valley. The most beautiful flowers were there, with vineyards and fig trees growing on the hillsides. In the middle of the field stood a neat little cottage. Its little windows glistened happily in the morning sunshine. Blue smoke curled upward from the little chimney, and a song sounded from within.
The countess forgot her pain and grief when she saw the little valley and the cottage. She crept up and, on tip-toes, looked inside the window to see if it was as beautiful inside as it was outside. She saw a lovely little kitchen, with things cooking and frying in pots and pans. The little man of the forest was standing at the hearth, first tending to one thing and then to another, at the same time singing with a smiling mouth:
Boil my oats, bubble my cabbage;
It is good that Lady Countess does not know
That Purzinigele is my name.
The countess had heard enough. She crept away and hurried back to the fir tree, so that the dwarf would not overtake her. Joyfully standing there, she could almost not wait for the dwarf to arrive. It was not long before the little man arrived. Today he was dressed even more beautifully than before. His clothing was embroidered with red and gold, and it glistened like a sunrise.
"Guess now for the last time," said the little elf to the countess, as though he had wanted to say, "This bird will not escape from my trap."
The countess started to say "Pur," while carefully observing her questioner.
"Not right! You have two guesses left!" said the little man.
"Goat," replied the countess.
With that the dwarf blushed a little and seemed to pause and think. Then he said, "Guess quickly! You have one more chance."
"Purzinigele!" cried out the countess, filled with joy. Upon hearing his name, the dwarf angrily rolled his fiery red eyes, clenched his fists tightly, then grumbling disappeared into the thicket. The freed countess hurried back to the place where the count was impatiently waiting for her. There was such joy when the two found one another again.
To the joy of their people, the count and countess returned to their castle. They lived there many, many years as the happiest couple that anyone ever knew.
And what became of Purzinigele?
He was so angry that he ran away, and was never seen again.
Once upon a time there was a mother who had but one daughter. She was not an ugly girl, but she had the flaw that she was always too smart for her own good and that she would rather eat and be lazy than work. Such daughters bring little joy to their mothers, and so it was here as well. The daughter could do nothing right for her mother, who for an entire year never stopped scolding her.
Once the mother left early for the field, telling the daughter, who was still in bed, "Near noontime cook some soup and put a couple of kernels of rice in it so there will be something for me to eat when I get home. Now "a couple" was a common way of saying "not too much and not too little," but the girl did not understand that. She put a kettle of water on the fire, picked out two kernels of rice and threw them in. What a soup that was when the mother arrived home! She scolded, but to no avail. She had to pour out the water and make her own soup, if she wanted anything to eat.
Another time the mother went away again, and said, "Boil some meat for our noon meal."
"How much should I use?" asked the girl.
"Whatever is honest!" replied the mother, and left.
"Just what is honest?" thought the girl over and over. Then it occurred to her that their donkey, standing in the stall, was named Honest. "Yes, indeed, mother meant him," she cried. "To be sure, he is old and is no longer worth much. I'll not get a scolding this time."
So she went to the stall, struck the poor donkey dead, and chopped him up in pieces. Then she put a large washtub on the fire, threw the pieces into the water, and let it boil until it was hissing and bubbling. When the mother arrived home and saw what had happened she was beside herself and began to hit at her daughter with both fists. But that did not bring the poor donkey back to life. And his meat was so tough that it could not be eaten. So she threw it out to the dogs, and they were only able to eat it only because they were bitterly hungry and had sharp teeth.
Later the mother went away again and told the daughter, "For our noon meal cook some mush, but do it right."
The daughter cooked a lot of mush, and she herself ate seven dishes full. The eighth dish, the smallest one, she saved for her mother. When she came home and learned that the girl had already eaten seven dishes of mush, she became angry and began to scold loudly and intensely.
At that same moment a distinguished gentleman passed by the house, heard the scolding, and entered. "Why are you scolding this poor girl so?" he asked.
The mother was ashamed and quickly replied, "I am scolding her because she works too much. Today she has spun seven spindles full, and I do not want her to overtire herself."
"Can she really spin so well?" asked the gentleman.
"There is no one far and wide in the entire country who can spin as well as my daughter," answered the mother.
Then the gentleman said, "If that is so, then you can give her to me for my wife. I want to have a wife who works well, and I shall never find one who is better or more industrious."
Mother and daughter agreed happily. The wedding took place, and the gentleman took his young wife home with him.
A few days later he had a large pile of flax brought in and said, "Listen, wife, I will be out hunting the entire day. By tomorrow evening you are to have spun this flax."
She made a sour face and said, "Husband, my lord, that is not possible."
Then he became angry and repeated to her, "Do you think that I took you for a wife so you would not have to work? If you want to be lazy then you can go back to your own house." With that he went forth to hunt.
The wife was beside herself. The pile of flax was so large that even with a hundred maids she would not have been able to spin it in two days. While she was standing there in desperation, a dwarf crept up to her. He was dressed in red and wore a little crown on his head. He said, "Why are you so sad? What will you give me if I spin the flax?"
The wife did not answer, and the red dwarf continued, "I will spin the flax, but only under the condition that you guess my name within three tries. If you fail to do so, you will be mine and must come with me."
In her desperation the wife said yes, and immediately there appeared countless little dwarfs, and they carried all the flax away until not a single strand was left behind.
That evening the gentleman returned home from hunting. Seeing his wife quiet and still, he thought that she must be tired from spinning. Before they went to bed he told her, "Just think about what happened to me today. When I was up on the mountain and it was just getting dark, I came to a split in the earth. I looked down and saw beneath me a large room where many hundreds of little devils were hurriedly spinning flax. It was a joy to watch them. In the middle there stood a throne, and on it sat a dwarf dressed in red and wearing a little crown on his head. He was continuously clicking his tongue and crying out:
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What will she do, what will she say, When tomorrow we take it to her? Then she will guess so and so. But my name is Tarandandò. |
Then the wife became happy once again, and said, "Dear husband, my lord, what did the crazy dwarf say?" And when he repeated it, she secretly wrote down the name and went to bed feeling relieved.
The next morning the gentleman went hunting again. Then the red dwarf arrived with hundreds of little devils, who were carrying the flax, all finely and neatly spun, and not even a hair of it was missing. Then the red dwarf approached the wife and said with a scornful smile, "Here is the flax. Now guess what my name is."
Pretending to be at a loss for words, the wife said, "Is your name perhaps Peter?"
"No," cried the dwarf, laughing.
With an even sadder face she asked, "Is you name perhaps Toni?"
"No," repeated the dwarf and laughed even more scornfully.
Then she pretended to be thinking deeply and to have fallen into despair. But finally she said, "Is your name perhaps -- Tarandandò?"
"Curses!" cried the red dwarf, as though he had been stung by a viper. He slapping her hard on the cheek, and then he and his little devils departed into the air with such a sound of whistling and rushing that it was like a windstorm in the fall swirling the dry leaves about and blowing them through the woods.
When the gentleman arrived home that evening, his wife showed him the spun flax, and he was uncommonly satisfied. "But why is your cheek so swollen?" he asked.
"Oh, dear husband, my lord," she said, "that comes from spinning."
Soon afterward he had an even larger pile of flax brought in and ordered his wife to spin it within a few days. She was beside herself, but then it occurred to her that she had an aunt who was an uncommonly sly and clever woman who had helped many a relative out of difficulty. She went to her and told her of her troubles.
"Just let me deal with it," said the aunt. "Go home, and this evening when your husband is at home I shall come and pay you a visit. Then you'll see."
When it was evening she took a dead hen, filled it with blood and grease, put it under her arm between her skin and her undershirt, and went to her niece. She entered the room where the husband and wife were, and the latter approached her, saying, "Greetings, dear aunt. It is so good that you can visit us."
"Yes, yes, I have been looking forward to this for a long time," said the aunt, and pressed her arm against her body until the blood and grease ran out onto the floor, while she stood there all bent over.
"Oh, good woman, what are you doing there?" said the gentleman.
The sly woman looked casually at the blood drops on the floor, then complained loudly, "Oh, my ailment! My old ailment! I have a large boil under my arm. That's where the blood is coming from."
"How did you get such an ailment?" asked the gentleman with sympathy.
"Do you know, my lord," she replied, "when I was young and beautiful I always had to spin, and that is what brought on my ailment. How it grieved my dear departed husband. I believe it was the cause of his early death."
When the gentleman heard this he turned to his wife and said, "Listen, wife, you shall never touch another spindle. I can no longer stand spinning!"
That was fine with her. From that time forth she had the best and the most comfortable life, and if she hasn't died, she is still living lazily forth.
The girl cried a good deal. A prince, Lord of the Red Castle, happened at that moment to pass by, and inquired as to the cause of such treatment, for it horrified him that a mother should so ill-use her child.
"Why should I not punish her?" answered the woman. "The idle girl can do nothing but spin hemp into gold thread."
"Really?" cried he. "Does she really know how to spin gold thread out of hemp? If that be so, sell her to me."
"Willingly; how much will you give me for her?"
"Half a measure of gold."
"Take her," said the mother; and she gave him her daughter as soon as the money was paid.
The prince placed the girl behind him on the saddle, put spurs to his horse, and took her home.
On reaching the Red Castle, the prince led Helen into a room filled from floor to ceiling with hemp, and having supplied her with distaff and spinning wheel, said, "When you have spun all this hemp into gold thread I will make you my wife."
Then he went out, locking the door after him.
On finding herself a prisoner, the poor girl wept as if her heart would break. Suddenly she saw a very odd looking little man seated on the window sill. He wore a red cap, and his boots were made of some strange sort of material.
"Why do you weep so?" he asked.
"I cannot help it," she replied, "I am but a miserable slave. I have been ordered to spin all this hemp into gold thread, but it is impossible, I can never do it, and I know not what will become of me."
I will do it for you in three days, on condition that at the end of that time you guess my right name, and tell me what the boots I am wearing now are made of."
Without for one moment reflecting as to whether she would be able to guess aright she consented. The uncanny little man burst out laughing, and taking her distaff set to work at once.
All day as the distaff moved the hemp grew visibly less, while the skein of gold thread became larger and larger.
The little man spun all the time, and, without stopping an instant, explained to Helen how to make thread of pure gold. As night drew on he tied up the skein, saying to the girl, "Well, do you know my name yet? Can you tell me what my boots are made of?"
Helen replied that she could not, upon which he grinned and disappeared through the window. She then sat and looked at the sky, and thought, and thought, and thought, and lost herself in conjecturing as to what the little man's name might be, and in trying to guess what was the stuff his boots were made of. Were they of leather? or perhaps plaited rushes? or straw? or cast iron? No, they did not look like anything of that sort. And as to his name -- that was a still more difficult problem to solve.
"What shall I call him?" said she to herself -- "John? Or Henry? Who knows? perhaps it is Paul or Joseph."
These thoughts so filled her mind that she forgot to eat her dinner. Her meditations were interrupted by cries and groans from outside, where she saw an old man with white hair sitting under the castle wall.
"Miserable old man that I am," cried he; "I die of hunger and thirst, but no one pities my sufferings." Helen hastened to give him her dinner, and told him to come next day, which he promised to do.
After again thinking for some time what answers she should give the little old man, she fell asleep on the hemp.
The little old man did not fail to make his appearance the first thing next morning, and remained all day spinning the gold thread. The work progressed before their eyes, and it was only when evening came that he repeated his questions. Not receiving a satisfactory answer, he vanished in a fit of mocking laughter. Helen sat down by the window to think; but think as she might, no answer to these puzzling questions occurred to her.
While thus wondering the hungry old man again came by, and she gave him her dinner. She was heart-sick and her eyes were full of tears, for she thought she would never guess the spinner's name, nor of what stuff his boots were made, unless perhaps God would help her.
"Why are you so sad?" asked the old man when he had eaten and drunk; "tell me the cause of you grief, dear lady."
For a long time she would not tell him, thinking it would be useless; but at last, yielding to his entreaties, she gave a full account of the conditions under which the gold thread was made, explaining that unless she could answer the little old man's questions satisfactorily she feared some great misfortune would befall her.
The old man listened attentively, then, nodding his head, he said: "In coming through the forest today I passed close to a large pile of burning wood, round which were placed nine iron pots. A little man in a red cap was running round and jumping over them, singing these words:
My sweet friend, fair Helen, at the Red Castle near,"Now that is exactly what you want to know, my dear girl; so do not forget, and you are saved."
Two days and two nights seeks my name to divine,
She'll never find out, so the third night 'tis clear
My sweet friend, fair Helen, can't fail to be mine.
Hurrah! for my name is Kinkach Martinko,
Hurrah! for my boots are of doggies' skin O!
And with these words the old man vanished.
Helen was greatly astonished, but she took care to fix in her memory all that the good fellow had told her, and then went to sleep, feeling that she could face tomorrow without fear.
One the third day, very early in the morning, the little old man appeared and set busily to work, for he knew that all the hemp must be spun before sunset, and that then he should be able to claim his rights. When evening came all the hemp was gone, and the room shone with the brightness of the golden thread.
As soon as his work was done, the queer little old man with the red cap drew himself up with a great deal of assurance, and with his hand in his pockets strutted up and down before Helen, ordering her to tell him his right name and to say of what stuff the boots were made; but he felt certain that she would not be able to answer aright.
"Your name is Kinkach Martinko, and your boots are made of dogskin," she replied without the slightest hesitation.
At these words he spun round on the floor like a bobbin, tore out his hair and beat his breast with rage, roaring so that the very walls trembled.
"It is lucky for you that you have guessed. If you had not, I should have torn you to pieces on this very spot:" so saying he rushed out of the window like a whirlwind.
Helen felt deeply grateful towards the old man who had told her the answers, and hoped to be able to thank him in person. But he never appeared again.
The Prince of the Red Castle was very pleased with her for having accomplished her task so punctually and perfectly, and he married her as he had promised.
Helen was truly thankful to have escaped the dangers that had threatened her, and her happiness as a princess was greater than she had dared hope. She had, too, such a good stock of gold thread that she never had occasion to spin any more all her life long.