rt of the kingdom to find
strange names.

The next day the little man came again. The queen began to call off to
him all the names that she had found--Caspar, Melchior, and many, many
others.

At each one the little man shook his head, and said, "No, that is not my
name."

Then the queen had her men go from house to house through the town. They
took down the name of every man, woman, and child.

When the little man came again, the queen had a long list of names to
give him.

"Is your name Cowribs, or Sheepshanks, or Bandy legs?" she said to him
at last.

He answered to each one, "No, that is not my name."

On the third day the queen's men began to come back from all parts of
the kingdom. They had been far and wide to find new names.

One of these men said, "I could not find any new names, but going by
some deep woods, I heard a fox wish good-night to a rabbit.

[Illustration]

Soon I came upon a little house, in front of which a fire was burning.
Around this fire danced a little man. He wore a pointed cap, and had a
long nose and bandy legs. As he went hopping and jumping about, first on
one leg and then on the other, he sang:

My baking and brewing I will do to-day,
The queen's son to-morrow I will take away,
No wise man can show the queen where to begin,
For my name, to be sure, is Rumpelstiltskin."

The queen clapped her hands for joy. She knew that at last she had found
the name.

She sent the servant away with a bag of gold, and waited for the queer
little man to come to her. At sunset the little fellow came hopping and
skipping up to the queen.

"Now, O queen," he said, "this is your last chance. Tell me my name."

The queen asked, "Is your name Conrad?"

"No."

"Henry?"

"No."

"Then your name is Rumpelstiltskin."

"The fairies have told you!" shouted the little man dancing about.

He became so angry that, in his rage, he stamped his right foot into the
ground.

This made him more angry still, and taking hold of his left foot with
both hands, he pulled so hard that he tore himself quite in two.

WILLIAM AND JACOB GRIMM

[Illustration]

BED IN SUMMER

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

A