Snow-White and Rose-Red

There was once a poor widow who lived all alone in a little cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden, and in the garden stood two rose trees. One of them bore white roses, and the other bore red. The widow had two children who were just like the two rose trees, and one was called Snow-White and the other Rose-Red. They were as good and kind, as hardworking and cheerful as any two children in the world could be. Only Snow-White was quieter and gentler than Rose-Red. Rose-Red liked to run about in the meadows and fields, looking for flowers and catching butterflies, while Snow-White stayed at home with her mother, helping her with the housework, or reading aloud to her when there was nothing to do.

The two children loved each other so dearly that they always held hands whenever they went out together. And when Snow-White said, "We will never leave each other," Rose-Red answered, "Not as long as we live," and their mother would add, "What one of you has, she must share with the other."

Often they wandered through the forest alone, gathering red berries, and no wild creature ever harmed them. Instead the animals came close in trust. The little hare would eat a cabbage leaf from their hands, the roe deer grazed at their side, the stag leapt merrily past them, and the birds sat still upon the branches and sang whatever songs they knew.

No harm ever came to them. If they had stayed too long in the forest and night overtook them, they would lie down side by side upon the moss and sleep until morning came, and their mother knew this and had no worry on their account.

Once, when they had spent the night in the woods and the red dawn woke them, they saw a beautiful child in a shining white dress sitting near where they had slept. He stood up and looked at them very kindly, but said nothing, and walked away into the forest. And when they looked about them, they found they had been sleeping right at the edge of a deep cliff, and would surely have fallen into it in the darkness if they had gone only a few steps further. Their mother told them it must have been the angel who watches over good children.

Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother's little cottage so tidy that it was a joy to look inside. In summer Rose-Red took care of the house, and every morning, before her mother woke, she set a bunch of flowers by her bed with one rose from each tree in it. In winter Snow-White lit the fire and hung the kettle on the hook above it. The kettle was made of brass, but it shone like gold, so brightly was it polished. In the evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother would say, "Go, Snow-White, and bolt the door." Then they gathered round the hearth, and the mother took her spectacles and read aloud from a great book, while the two girls sat and spun and listened. Near them a little lamb lay upon the floor, and behind them, on a perch, sat a white dove with its head tucked beneath its wing.

One evening, as they were sitting so cozily together, someone knocked at the door as if wishing to be let in. The mother said, "Quick, Rose-Red, open the door. It must be a traveller looking for shelter." Rose-Red went and drew back the bolt, thinking it was some poor man. But it was not. It was a bear, who thrust his broad black head in at the door.

Rose-Red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered up, and Snow-White hid herself behind her mother's bed. But the bear began to speak and said, "Do not be afraid. I will do you no harm. I am half-frozen, and I only want to warm myself a little beside you."

"You poor bear," said the mother, "lie down by the fire, only take care that you don't burn your coat." Then she called, "Snow-White, Rose-Red, come out. The bear will not hurt you. He means well." So they both came out, and little by little the lamb and the dove came nearer too, and lost their fear of him. The bear said, "Children, knock the snow out of my coat a little." So they fetched the broom and swept his hide clean, and he stretched himself by the fire and growled with contentment and comfort. Before long they were quite at ease with him, and played all sorts of tricks on their clumsy guest. They tugged at his fur with their hands, set their little feet on his back and rolled him this way and that, or took a hazel switch and beat him, and when he growled, they laughed. The bear took it all in good part. Only when they grew too rough did he cry out, "Leave me alive, children:

Snow-White and Rose-Red so fair, would you beat your suitor to death, take care?"

When it was time for bed and the others went to sleep, the mother said to the bear, "You may stay lying there by the hearth, and then you will be safe from the cold and the bad weather." As soon as day dawned, the two children let him out, and he trotted away across the snow into the forest.

From then on the bear came every evening at the very same hour, laid himself down by the hearth, and let the children play with him as much as they liked. And they grew so used to him that the door was never bolted until their black friend had arrived.

When spring came and everything outside was green, the bear said one morning to Snow-White, "Now I must go away, and I cannot come back for the whole summer." "Where are you going, dear bear?" asked Snow-White. "I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the wicked dwarfs. In winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they have to stay below and cannot dig their way up. But now, when the sun has thawed and warmed the earth, they break through, and come up to pry and steal. And whatever once falls into their hands and lies in their caves does not easily see daylight again."

Snow-White was very sad at his going, and as she unbolted the door for him and the bear pushed his way out, he caught against the bolt and a piece of his coat was torn off, and it seemed to Snow-White that she saw gold shining through it — though she was not quite sure. The bear ran quickly away, and was soon lost from sight behind the trees.

Some time later the mother sent the children into the forest to gather firewood. There they found a great tree lying felled on the ground, and near the trunk something was jumping up and down in the grass, but they could not make out what it was. When they came closer, they saw a dwarf with an old withered face and a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of the beard was caught in a crack in the tree, and the little fellow was jumping back and forth like a dog tied to a rope, and did not know what to do.

He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried, "Why do you stand there? Can't you come and help me?" "What have you been up to, little man?" asked Rose-Red. "You silly, prying goose!" answered the dwarf. "I was trying to split the tree to get some small wood for my kitchen. Big thick logs burn up the little bit of food that folk like us need — we don't gobble down as much as you coarse, greedy people. I had just driven the wedge in nicely, and everything was going as I wished, but the wretched wood was too smooth and suddenly sprang out, and the tree snapped shut so fast that I couldn't pull my fine white beard free. Now it's stuck fast, and I can't get away. And there you stand, you silly, smooth, milk-faced things, laughing! Ugh, how horrid you are!"

The children tried as hard as they could, but they could not pull the beard out. It was caught too fast. "I'll run and fetch someone," said Rose-Red. "You witless sheep's-heads!" snarled the dwarf. "Who would go running for other people? You're already two too many for me. Can't you think of something better?" "Don't be so impatient," said Snow-White. "I'll find a way." And she took her little scissors from her pocket and cut off the end of the beard.

As soon as the dwarf felt himself free, he grabbed a bag that lay among the roots of the tree, which was full of gold, and heaved it up, muttering to himself, "Ill-mannered rabble, cutting off a piece of my splendid beard! Bad luck to you!" Then he swung the bag onto his back and went off without so much as another glance at the children.

Some time after that, Snow-White and Rose-Red went to catch a dish of fish. As they came near the brook, they saw something like a big grasshopper hopping toward the water, as if it meant to leap in. They ran up and found it was the dwarf. "Where are you going?" said Rose-Red. "You surely don't want to jump into the water?" "I'm no such fool!" cried the dwarf. "Don't you see, the wretched fish wants to pull me in?" The little man had been sitting there fishing, and by ill luck the wind had tangled his beard with the fishing line. Just then a big fish took the bait, and the feeble creature had no strength to pull it out. The fish had the upper hand and dragged the dwarf toward the water. He clung to every reed and rush, but it did little good — he had to follow the fish wherever it went, and was in great danger of being pulled in.

The girls came just in time. They held him fast and tried to free his beard from the line, but it was no use — beard and line were tangled hopelessly together. There was nothing to do but bring out the little scissors and cut off the beard, and a small part of it was lost. When the dwarf saw that, he shrieked at them, "Is that any way to behave, you toadstools, to spoil a man's face? Wasn't it enough to clip the bottom off my beard? Now you've cut off the best part of it. I can't let myself be seen by my own people. I wish you'd been made to run till you'd worn the soles off your shoes!" Then he took up a sack of pearls that lay in the rushes, and without another word he dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone.

Soon afterward it happened that the mother sent the two girls to town to buy needles and thread, laces and ribbons. The road led them across a heath where great blocks of rock lay scattered here and there. Now they noticed a large bird gliding in the air, circling slowly above them, sinking lower and lower, until at last it swooped down near a rock not far off. Immediately afterward they heard a piercing, pitiful cry. They ran up and saw with horror that an eagle had seized their old acquaintance the dwarf, and was about to carry him away.

The tender-hearted children at once took firm hold of the little man and pulled against the eagle so long that at last it let its prey go. When the dwarf had recovered from his first fright, he cried out in his screeching voice, "Couldn't you have handled me more gently? You dragged so at my thin little coat that it's all torn and full of holes, you clumsy, blundering creatures!" Then he took up a sack of precious stones and slipped away again under the rock into his hole. The girls, who were used to his ingratitude by now, went on their way and did their errands in the town.

As they crossed the heath again on their way home, they surprised the dwarf, who had poured out his sack of precious stones on a clean patch of ground, never thinking that anyone would come by so late. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones. They gleamed and sparkled in every color so beautifully that the children stopped to look at them. "What are you standing there gawking at?" screeched the dwarf, and his ashen-gray face turned scarlet with rage. He was about to go on scolding when a loud growl was heard, and a black bear came trotting out of the forest. The dwarf sprang up in terror, but he could not reach his hiding place, for the bear was already close. Then, in the fear of his heart, he cried, "Dear Mr. Bear, spare me! I'll give you all my treasures. Look at the lovely jewels lying there! Grant me my life. What good is a slim little fellow like me to you? You'd never feel me between your teeth. There, take those two wicked girls — they're tender morsels for you, plump as young quails. For mercy's sake, eat them!" But the bear paid no heed to his words. He gave the spiteful creature a single blow with his paw, and it never stirred again.

The girls had run away, but the bear called after them, "Snow-White and Rose-Red, do not be afraid. Wait, I will come with you." Then they knew his voice and stood still, and when the bear reached them, his bearskin suddenly fell away, and there he stood, a handsome man, dressed all in gold. "I am a king's son," he said, "and I was bewitched by that wicked dwarf, who had stolen my treasures. I had to run about the forest as a wild bear until his death should set me free. Now he has received the punishment he deserved."

Snow-White was married to him, and Rose-Red to his brother, and they shared between them the great treasure the dwarf had gathered together in his cave. The old mother lived on for many quiet, happy years with her children. And she brought the two rose trees with her, and they stood before her window and bore, every year, the most beautiful roses, white and red.