A widow’s kind stepdaughter jumps into a well after her spindle and enters the service of Frau Holle, whose feather bed she shakes until it snows in the world above. Gold pours over her at the great gate, but her idle sister, who comes down for the same reward, has a kettleful of pitch tipped over her instead.
There was once a widow who had two daughters. One of them was lovely and hard-working; the other was plain and idle. But it was the idle one the widow loved best, because that one was her own child, and so the other, who was only a stepdaughter, had to do all the work of the house and sit among the ashes when it was done.
Every day the poor girl carried her spinning out to the road and sat down beside the well, and there she spun and spun until her fingers were sore and bleeding.
One day the spindle was so stained that she leaned over the water to rinse it clean. It slipped out of her hand and sank to the bottom. She ran crying to her stepmother and told her what had happened, but her stepmother scolded her without a scrap of pity.
“You let the spindle fall in,” she said. “Now you can go and fetch it out again.”
So the girl went back to the well, and she could not think what to do. At last, with her heart aching, she climbed onto the rim and jumped in after the spindle.
Everything went dark. When she opened her eyes again she was lying in a meadow, with the sun shining above her and many thousands of flowers standing all around. She got up and walked on across the meadow, and after a while she came to an oven that was full of bread, and the bread called out to her.
“Take me out, take me out, or I shall burn! I have been baked long enough.”
So she went to the oven, took up the long wooden shovel and drew out every loaf, one after another. Then she walked on until she came to an apple tree so heavy with fruit that its branches sagged, and the tree called out to her.
“Shake me, shake me! We apples are all of us ripe.”
So she shook the tree until the apples came down like rain, and she went on shaking until not one was left above. She gathered them into a neat heap and went on her way.
At last she came to a little house, and an old woman looked out of it. She had such big teeth that the girl was frightened and turned to run.
“What are you afraid of, dear child?” the old woman called after her. “Stay with me. If you do all the work of the house properly, you will be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well and shake it out thoroughly, until the feathers fly. Then it snows in the world above. I am Frau Holle.”
The old woman spoke so kindly that the girl took heart and agreed to enter her service. She did everything to her mistress’s satisfaction, and she always shook the bed so hard that the feathers flew about like snowflakes. In return she had a pleasant life there. Never a cross word, and good hot food every day of the week.
She stayed with Frau Holle for a long while, and then she began to grow sad. At first she did not know what was wrong with her, and at last she understood that it was homesickness. She was a thousand times better off here than she had ever been at home, and still she longed for home.
“I am homesick,” she said to the old woman at last. “However well I am looked after down here, I cannot stay any longer. I must go up again to my own people.”
“It pleases me that you want to go home,” said Frau Holle, “and because you have served me so faithfully, I will take you up myself.”
She took the girl by the hand and led her to a great gate. The gate was opened, and just as the girl stood underneath it a shower of gold came pouring down, and all of it stayed on her, so that she was covered with gold from head to foot.
“That is yours, because you have worked so well,” said Frau Holle, and she gave her back the spindle that had fallen into the well.
Then the gate closed, and the girl found herself standing on the earth again, not far from her stepmother’s house. As she came into the yard the cock was sitting on the well, and he crowed:
Cock-a-doodle-doo!Our golden girl has come home to you!
She went indoors, and because she was covered with gold, her stepmother and her sister both made her very welcome.
The girl told them everything that had happened to her. When the stepmother heard how all that wealth had come to her, she wanted the very same good luck for her own plain, lazy daughter. So the lazy girl had to sit by the well and spin, and to make sure her spindle was stained she pushed her hand into a thorn hedge and pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well and jumped in after it.
Like her sister, she came to the beautiful meadow, and she walked along the very same path. When she reached the oven, the bread cried out again.
“Take me out, take me out, or I shall burn! I have been baked long enough.”
“And get myself dirty?” said the lazy girl. “Certainly not.” And on she went.
Soon she came to the apple tree, and the tree cried out.
“Shake me, shake me! We apples are all of us ripe.”
“That would suit you nicely,” she answered. “One of you might fall on my head.” And on she went.
When she came to Frau Holle’s house she was not the least bit frightened, because she had heard all about the big teeth already, and she hired herself out on the spot.
The first day she made herself work hard and did whatever Frau Holle asked, for she was thinking of all the gold that would be given to her. But on the second day she began to idle, and on the third day she idled more, and after that she would not get up in the morning at all. She did not make Frau Holle’s bed as it ought to be made, and she never shook it hard enough for the feathers to fly. Frau Holle soon had enough of her and told her that her service was over.
The lazy girl was quite content to go, because now, she thought, the shower of gold would come. Frau Holle led her to the great gate too. But as she stood underneath it, instead of gold a whole kettleful of pitch was tipped over her.
“That is the reward for your service,” said Frau Holle, and she shut the gate.
So the lazy girl came home, black with pitch from head to foot, and when the cock on the well saw her he crowed:
Cock-a-doodle-doo!Our pitchy girl has come home to you!
And the pitch stuck fast to her, and would not come off as long as she lived.
That is why, in that country, when the snow comes drifting down, people still say that Frau Holle is making her bed.
Retold by Talerie, Source: Household Tales by Brothers Grimm (opens in a new window)
License: Public domainCopy this text, adapt it, use it however you like. A link back to Talerie is appreciated but never required.CC0 1.0 (opens in a new window)
