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Ashputtel

There was once a wife of a rich man who fell sick and when she felt that her end drew near, she called her only daughter to her bedside, and said, “Always be a good girl, and I will look down from heaven and watch over you.” Soon afterwards she shut her eyes and died. She was buried in the garden and her little girl went every day to her grave and wept, and was always good and kind to all about her. Snow spread a beautiful white covering over the grave but by the time the sun had melted it away again, her father had married another wife. This new wife had two daughters of her own and she brought them home with her. They were fair in face but foul at heart and it was now a sorry time for the poor little girl. “What does the good-for-nothing want in the parlour?” Said they, “those who would eat bread should first earn it; away with the kitchen maid!” Then they took away her fine clothes, and gave her an old grey frock to put on, and laughed at her and turned her into the kitchen.

There she was forced to do hard work; to rise early before day-light, to bring the water, to make the fire, to cook and to wash. Besides that, the sisters plagued her in all sorts of ways and laughed at her. In the evening when she was tired she had no bed to lie down on, but was instead made to lie by the hearth among the ashes. As this made her always dusty and dirty, they called her Ashputtel.

It happened once that the father was going to the fair, and asked his wife’s daughters what he should bring them. “Fine clothes,” said the first. “Pearls and diamonds,” cried the second. “Now, child,” said he to his own daughter, “what will you have?” “The first sprig, dear father, that rubs against your hat on the way home,” said she. 

He bought for his stepdaughters the fine clothes, pearls and diamonds they had asked for. On his way home, as he rode through a green copse, a sprig of hazel brushed against him, and almost pushed off his hat, so he broke it off and brought it away. When he got home he gave it to his daughter. She took it and went to her mothers grave and planted it and cried so much that it was watered with her tears. There it grew and became a fine tree. Three times every day she went to it and wept and soon a little bird came and built its nest upon the tree, and talked to her and watched over her, and brought her whatever she wished for.

Now it happened that the king of the land was to hold a feast which was to last three days, and out of those who came to it his son was to choose a bride for himself. Ashputtel’s two sisters were asked to come. They called her up and said, “ Now, comb our hair, brush out shoes, and tie our sashes for us for we are going to dance at the king’s ball.” Then she did as she was told, but when all was done she could not help crying, for she thought to herself, she should have liked to have gone to the dance too. At last she begged her mother very hard to let her go. “You! Ashputtel?” Said she, “ you who have nothing to wear, no clothes at all, and who cannot even dance….you want to go to the ball?” And when she kept on begging, to get rid of her, she said at last, “I will throw this basin-full of peas into the ash heap, and if you have picked them all out in two hours time you shall go to the feast too.” Then she threw the peas into the ashes. But the little girl ran out at the back door into the garden and cried out:

“Hither, hither, through the sky,

Turtle-doves and linnets fly!

Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay,

Hither, hither, haste away!

One and all, come help me quick,

Haste ye, haste ye, pick, pick, pick!”

Then first came two white doves flying in at the kitchen window. Next came two turtle-doves and after therm all the little birds under heaven came chirping and fluttering in and flew down into the ashes. The little doves stooped their heads down and set to work, pick pick, pick. Then the others began to pick, pick, pick and picked out all the good grain and put it in a dish and left the ashes. At the end of one hour the work was done, and all flew out again at the window. Then she brought the dish to her mother, overjoyed at the thought that now she should go to the ball. But she said, “No, no! You have no clothes and cannot dance, you shall not go.” And when Ashputtel begged very hard to go, she said, “ If you can in one hour’s time pick two of those dishes of peas out of the ashes, you shall go too.” And thus she thought she should at last get rid of her. So she shook two dishes of peas into the ashes; but the little maiden went out into the garden at the back of the house and cried out as before:

“Hither, hither, through the sky,

Turtle-doves and linnets fly!

Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay,

Hither, hither, haste away!

One and all, come help me quick,

Haste ye, haste ye, pick, pick, pick!”

Then first came two white doves flying in at the kitchen window. Next came two turtle-doves and after therm all the little birds under heaven came chirping and hopping about and flew down about the ashes. The little doves stooped their heads down and set to work, pick pick, pick. Then the others began to pick, pick, pick and picked out all the good grain and put it in a dish and left the ashes. Before half an hour’s time all was done and out they flew again. And then Ashputtel took the dishes to her mother, rejoicing to think that now she should go to the feast. But her mother said, “It is all of no use, you cannot go. You have no clothes and cannot dance, and you would only put us all to shame,” and off she went with her two daughters to the feast.

Now, when all were gone, and nobody was left at home, Ashputtel went sorrowfully and sat down under the hazel-tree, and cried out:

“Shake, shake, hazel tree,

Gold and silver over me!”

Then her friend the bird flew out of the tree and brought a gold and silver dress for her, and slippers of spangled silk. She put them on and followed her sisters to the feast. They did not know her and thought she must be some strange princess, she looked so fine and beautiful in her new clothes. They never once thought of Ashputtel for they took for granted that she was safe at home in the dirt.

The king’s son soon came up to her and took her by the hand and danced with her and no one else. He never left her side and whenever anyone else came to ask her to dance he said, “ This lady is dancing with me.” Thus they danced till a late hour of the night and she wanted to go home. The king’s son said, “I shall go and take care of you to your home,” for he wanted to see where the beautiful maid lived. But she slipped away from him unawares and ran off towards home. But the prince followed her so she jumped up into the pigeon-house and shut the door. Then he waited until her father came home and told him that the unknown maiden who had been at the feast had hid herself in the pigeon-house. But when they broke open the door they found no one within and as they came back into the house, Ashputtel lay, as she always did, in her dirty frock by the ashes, and her dim little lamp burnt in the chimney: for she had run as quickly as she could through the pigeon-house and onto the hazel-tree, and had there taken off her beautiful clothes and laid them beneath the tree, that the bird might carry them away, and had seated herself amid the ashes again in her little grey frock. 

The next day when the feast was again held, and her father, mother, and sisters were gone, Ashputtel went to the hazel-tree, and said:

“Shake, shake, hazel tree,

Gold and silver over me!”

And the bird came and brought a still finer dress then the one she had worn the day before. When she came in it to the ball, everyone wondered at her beauty, but the king’s son, who was waiting for her, was the one who took her by the hand and danced with her all night. And when anyone asked her to dance, he said as before, “This lady is dancing with me.” When night came she wanted to go home and the king’s son followed her as before, that he might see into what house she went: but she sprung away from him all at once into the garden, behind her fathers house. In this garden stood a fine pear-tree full of ripe fruit and Ashputtel, not knowing where to hide herself, jumped up into it without being seen. Then the king’s son could not find out where she had gone but waited till her father came home, and said to him, “The unknown lady who danced with me has slipped away again, and I think she must have sprung into your pear-tree.” The father thought to himself, “Can it be Ashputtel?” So he ordered an axe to be brought and they cut down the tree, but found no one upon it. And when they came back into the kitchen, there lay Ashputtel in the ashes as usual; for she had slipped down on the other side of the tree, and had given her beautiful clothes back to the bird at the hazel-tree, and then put on her little grey frock.

The third day, when her father and mother and sisters were gone, she went again into the garden and said:

“Shake, shake, hazel tree,

Gold and silver over me!”

Then her kind friend the bird brought a dress still finer then the former one, and slippers which were all of gold. When she came to the feast no one knew what to say for wonder at her beauty and the king’s son danced with her alone; and whenever anyone else asked her to dance, her said, “This lady is my partner.” Now, when night came, she wanted to go home; and the king’s son would go with her and said to himself, “I will not lose her this time!” But however, she managed to slip away from him, though in such a hurry that she dropped her left golden slipper upon the stairs.

So the prince took the shoe and went the next day to the king his father, and said, “I will take for my wife the lady that this golden slipper fits.” Both the sisters were overjoyed to hear this; for they had beautiful feet, and had no doubt that they could wear the golden slipper. The eldest went first into the room where the slipper was and wanted to try it on, and the mother stood by. But her great toe could not get into it, and the shoe was all together much too small for her. Then the mother gave her a knife, and said, “Never mind, cut it off; when you are queen you will not care about toes, you will not want to go on foot.” So the silly girl cut her great toe off and squeezed the shoe on, and went to the king’s son, then he took her for his bride and set her beside him on his horse and rode away with her. 

But on their way home they had to pass by the hazel-tree that Ashputtel had planted, and there sat a little dove on the branch singing:

“Back again! Back again! Look to the shoe!

The shoe is too small, and not made for you!

Prince! Prince!  Look again for your bride,

For she’s not the true one that sits by thy side.”

Then the prince got down and looked at her foot, and saw by the blood that streamed from it, what a trick she had played on him. So her turned his horse round and brought the false bride back to her home, and said, “This is not the right bride: let the other sister try to put on the slipper.” Then she went into the room and got her foot into the shoe, all but the heel, which was too large. But her mother squeezed it in until the blood came, and took her to the king’s son; and he set her as his bride by his side on his horse, and rode away with her.

But when they came to the hazel-tree, the little dove sat there still and sang:

“Back again! Back again! Look to the shoe!

The shoe is too small, and not made for you!

Prince! Prince!  Look again for your bride,

For she’s not the true one that sits by thy side.”

The he looked down and saw the blood streamed so from the shoe that her white stockings were quite red. So her turned his horse and brought her back again. “This is not the true bride,” said he to the father, “have you no other daughters?” “No,” said he, “There is only little dirty Ashputtel, the child of my first wife; I am sure she cannot be the bride.” However, the prince told him to send for her. But the mother said, “No, no, she is much too dirty, she will not dare to show herself,” however, the prince would have her come. And she first washed her face and hands, and then went in and curtsied to him, and he passed her the golden slipper. Then she took her clumsy shoe off her left foot, and put on the golden slipper; and it fitted her as if it had been made for her. And when he drew near and looked at her face, he knew her, and said, “This is the right bride.” But the mother and both the sisters were frightened and turned pale with anger as he took Ashputtel on his horse, and rode away with her. And when they came to the hazel-tree the white dove sang:

“Home! Home! Look at the shoe!

Princess! The shoe was made for you!

Prince! Prince! Take home thy bride,

For she is the true on that sits by thy side.”

And when the dove had done its song, it came flying and perched upon her right shoulder, and so went home with her.