“No,” replied Grethel, “that will be too heavy for the little duck; she shall take us across, one after the other.”
The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely across and had walked for a short time, they knew where they were, and at last they saw from afar their father's house.
Then they began to run, rushed in, and threw themselves into their father's arms. The man had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the forest; the woman, however, was dead. Grethel emptied her pinafore until pearls and precious stones rolled about the floor, and Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all care was at an end, and they lived happily together ever after.
My tale is done; there runs a mouse; whosoever catches it may make himself a big fur cap out of it.
BURG HILL'S ON FIRE
A CELTIC FAIRY TALE
BY ELIZABETH W. GRIERSON (ADAPTED)
Once upon a time there was a rich farmer who had a thrifty wife. She used to go out and gather all the little bits of wool which she could find on the hillsides, and bring them home. Then, after her family had gone to bed, she would sit up and card the wool and spin it into yarn, then she would weave the yarn into cloth to make garments for her children.
But all this work made her feel very tired, so that one night, sitting at her loom, she laid down her shuttle and cried:—