Kabanata Kabanata 3 · The Rose-Tree

There was once upon a time a good man who had two children: a girl by a

first wife, and a boy by the second. The girl was as white as milk, and

her lips were like cherries. Her hair was like golden silk, and it hung

to the ground. Her brother loved her dearly, but her wicked stepmother

hated her. “Child,” said the stepmother one day, “go to the grocer's

shop and buy me a pound of candles.” She gave her the money; and the

little girl went, bought the candles, and started on her return. There

was a stile to cross. She put down the candles whilst she got over the

stile. Up came a dog and ran off with the candles.

She went back to the grocer's, and she got a second bunch. She came to

the stile, set down the candles, and proceeded to climb over. Up came

the dog and ran off with the candles.

She went again to the grocer's, and she got a third bunch; and just the

same happened. Then she came to her stepmother crying, for she had spent

all the money and had lost three bunches of candles.

The stepmother was angry, but she pretended not to mind the loss. She

said to the child: “Come, lay your head on my lap that I may comb your

hair.” So the little one laid her head in the woman's lap, who proceeded

to comb the yellow silken hair. And when she combed the hair fell over

her knees, and rolled right down to the ground.

Then the stepmother hated her more for the beauty of her hair; so she

said to her, “I cannot part your hair on my knee, fetch a billet of

wood.” So she fetched it. Then said the stepmother, “I cannot part your

hair with a comb, fetch me an axe.” So she fetched it.

“Now,” said the wicked woman, “lay your head down on the billet whilst I

part your hair.”

Well! she laid down her little golden head without fear; and whist! down

came the axe, and it was off. So the mother wiped the axe and laughed.

Then she took the heart and liver of the little girl, and she stewed

them and brought them into the house for supper. The husband tasted them

and shook his head. He said they tasted very strangely. She gave some

to the little boy, but he would not eat. She tried to force him, but he

refused, and ran out into the garden, and took up his little sister, and

put her in a box, and buried the box under a rose-tree; and every day he

went to the tree and wept, till his tears ran down on the box.

One day the rose-tree flowered. It was spring, and there among the

flowers was a white bird; and it sang, and sang, and sang like an

angel out of heaven. Away it flew, and it went to a cobbler's shop, and

perched itself on a tree hard by; and thus it sang,

“My wicked mother slew me,

My dear father ate me,

My little brother whom I love

Sits below, and I sing above

Stick, stock, stone dead.”

“Sing again that beautiful song,” asked the shoemaker. “If you will

first give me those little red shoes you are making.” The cobbler gave

the shoes, and the bird sang the song; then flew to a tree in front of a

watchmaker's, and sang:

“My wicked mother slew me,

My dear father ate me,

My little brother whom I love

Sits below, and I sing above

Stick, stock, stone dead.”

“Oh, the beautiful song! sing it again, sweet bird,” asked the

watchmaker. “If you will give me first that gold watch and chain in your

hand.” The jeweller gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in one

foot, the shoes in the other, and, after having repeated the song, flew

away to where three millers were picking a millstone. The bird perched

on a tree and sang:

“My wicked mother slew me,

My dear father ate me,

My little brother whom I love

Sits below, and I sing above

Stick!”

Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work,

“Stock!”

Then the second miller's man laid aside his tool and looked up,

“Stone!”

Then the third miller's man laid down his tool and looked up,

“Dead!”

Then all three cried out with one voice: “Oh, what a beautiful song!

Sing it, sweet bird, again.” “If you will put the millstone round my

neck,” said the bird. The men did what the bird wanted and away to the

tree it flew with the millstone round its neck, the red shoes in one

foot, and the gold watch and chain in the other. It sang the song and

then flew home. It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house,

and the stepmother said: “It thunders.” Then the little boy ran out to

see the thunder, and down dropped the red shoes at his feet. It

rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house once more, and the

stepmother said again: “It thunders.” Then the father ran out and down

fell the chain about his neck.

In ran father and son, laughing and saying, “See, what fine things the

thunder has brought us!” Then the bird rattled the millstone against the

eaves of the house a third time; and the stepmother said: “It thunders

again, perhaps the thunder has brought something for me,” and she

ran out; but the moment she stepped outside the door, down fell the

millstone on her head; and so she died.