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RUMPELSTILTZKIN
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house burned a fire, and round the fire sprang the most grotesque little man, hopping on one leg and crying:
To-morrow I brew, to-day I bake,
And then the child away I’ll take;
For little deems my royal dame
That Rumpelstiltzkin is my name!
And then the child away I’ll take;
For little deems my royal dame
That Rumpelstiltzkin is my name!
You may imagine the Queen’s delight at hearing the name, and when the little man stepped in shortly afterwards and asked: ‘Now, my lady Queen, what’s my name?’ she asked first: ‘Is your name Conrad?’ ‘No.’ ‘Is your name Harry?’ ‘No.’ ‘Is your name, perhaps, Rumpelstiltzkin?’ ‘Some demon has told you that, some demon has told you that,’ screamed the little man, and in his rage drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.[1]
