"Well, the angels led us here," reflected Haensel.
"Ye-es, that's true, they did," conceded Gretel.
"Come on. Let's just nibble a little bit," tempted Haensel.
And so, hand in hand, they hopped along, like two little mice, toward the magic house. Then they stole cautiously forward on tiptoe, until, at length, they were within reaching distance. Haensel's hand went out. He broke off a bit.
Quick as lightning came a squeaking voice from the inside:
|
"Nibble, nibble, mousekin, Who's nibbling at my housekin?" |
Haensel started back in fear.
"'Twas only the wind," said Gretel. "Let's taste it."
They did. Since it tasted better than anything they had ever eaten before, they feasted merrily for a while, never heeding the voice of the Witch or her ugly form, either, which, a little later, appeared at the door. I have no doubt that they would be feasting yet, if the Witch had not then and there stealthily stolen upon them. With a deft movement she threw a rope about Haensel's neck and held him fast.
The children's delight turned to terror. For she was a loathsome sight to see. Bent, toothless, with unkempt hair and clawlike hands, she looked the picture of a Witch indeed.