e end of that time
you cannot tell my name, you must give up the child to me."

Then the queen spent the whole night in thinking over all the names that
she had ever heard, and sent a messenger through the land to ask far and
wide for all the names that could be found. And when the little man came
next day, (beginning with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar) she repeated all
she knew, and went through the whole list, but after each the little man
said,

"That is not my name."

The second day the queen sent to inquire of all the neighbours what the
servants were called, and told the little man all the most unusual and
singular names, saying,

"Perhaps you are called Roast-ribs, or Sheepshanks, or Spindleshanks?"
But he answered nothing but

"That is not my name."

The third day the messenger came back again, and said,

"I have not been able to find one single new name; but as I passed
through the woods I came to a high hill, and near it was a little house,
and before the house burned a fire, and round the fire danced a comical
little man, and he hopped on one leg and cried,

"To-day do I bake, to-morrow I brew,
The day after that the queen's child comes in;
And oh! I am glad that nobody knew
That the name I am called is Rumpelstiltskin!"

You cannot think how pleased the queen was to hear that name, and soon
afterwards, when the little man walked in and said, "Now, Mrs. Queen,
what is my name?" she said at first,

"Are you called Jack?"

"No," answered he.

"Are you called Harry?" she asked again.

"No," answered he. And then she said,

"Then perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin!"

"The devil told you that! the devil told you that!" cried the little
man, and in his anger he stamped with his right foot so hard that it
went into the ground above his knee; then he seized his left foot with
both his hands in such a fury that he split in two, and there was an end
of him.

ROLAND

THERE was once a woman who was a witch, and she had two daughters, one
ugly and wicked, whom she loved the best, because she was her very own
daughter, and one pretty and good, whom she hated because she was her
step-daughter. One day the step-daughter put on a pretty apron, which
the other daughter liked so much that she became envious, and said to
her mother that she must and should have the apron.

"Be content, my child," said the old woman, "thou shalt have it. Thy
step-sister has long deserved death, an