Little Snow White-(From Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Europe)

made of black ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, “Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window-frame.” 

Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony; and she was therefore called Little Snow-white. And when the child was born, the Queen died. 

After a year had passed the King took to himself another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that anyone else should surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself in it, and said— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

the looking-glass answered— 

“Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!” 

Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass spoke the truth. 

But Snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful; and when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more beautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her looking-glass— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

it answered— 

“Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen.
But more beautiful still is Snow-white, as I ween.” 

Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at Snow-white, her heart heaved in her breast, she hated the girl so much. 

And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said, “Take the child away into the forest; I will no longer have her in my sight. Kill her, and bring me back her heart as a token.” The huntsman obeyed, and took her away; but when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce Snow-white’s innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, “Ah, dear huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the wild forest, and never come home again.” 

And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and said, “Run away, then, you poor child. ” “The wild beasts will soon have devoured you, ” thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her. And as a young bear just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its heart and took it to the Queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook had to salt this, and the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had eaten the heart of Snow-white. 

But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so terrified that she looked at every leaf of every tree, and did not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm. 

She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost evening; then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself. Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon; moreover, there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes. 

Little Snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none of them suited her; one was too long, another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one was right, and so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to sleep. 

When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back; they were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit their seven candles, and as it was now light within the cottage they saw that someone had been there, for everything was not in the same order in which they had left it. 

The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”

The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?”

The third, “Who has been taking some of my bread?”

The fourth, “Who has been eating my vegetables?”

The fifth, “Who has been using my fork?”

The sixth, “Who has been cutting with my knife?”

The seventh, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?” 

Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole on his bed, and he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?” The others came up and each called out, “Somebody has been lying in my bed too.” But the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-white, who was lying asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the light fall on little Snow-white. “Oh, heavens! oh, heavens!” cried they, “what a lovely child!” and they were so glad that they did not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so got through the night. 

When it was morning little Snow-white awoke, and was frightened when she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her name was. “My name is Snow-white,” she answered. “How have you come to our house?” said the dwarfs. Then she told them that her step-mother had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she had run for the whole day, until at last she had found their dwelling. The dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you will keep everything neat and clean, you can stay with us and you shall want for nothing.” “Yes,” said Snow-white, “with all my heart,” and she stayed with them. She kept the house in order for them; in the mornings they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold; in the evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready. The girl was alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her and said, “Beware of your step-mother, she will soon know that you are here; be sure to let no one come in.” 

But the Queen, believing that she had eaten Snow-white’s heart, could not but think that she was again the first and most beautiful of all; and she went to her looking-glass and said— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

and the glass answered—

“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she.” 

Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed her, and that little Snow-white was still alive. 

And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like an old pedler-woman, and no one could have known her. In this disguise she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried, “Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap.” Little Snow-white looked out of the window and called out, “Good-day, my good woman, what have you to sell?” “Good things, pretty things,” she answered; “stay-laces of all colors,” and she pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored silk. “I may let the worthy old woman in,” thought Snow-white, and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces. “Child,” said the old woman, “what a fright you look; come, I will lace you properly for once.” Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman laced so quickly and so tightly that Snow-white lost her breath and fell down as if dead. “Now I am the most beautiful,” said the Queen to herself, and ran away. 

Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home, but how shocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-white lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces; then she began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again. When the dwarfs heard what had happened they said, “The old pedler-woman was no one else than the wicked Queen; take care and let no one come in when we are not with you.” 

But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front of the glass and asked— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall, 
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

and it answered as before— 

“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she.” 

When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for she saw plainly that little Snow-white was again alive. “But now,” she said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous comb. Then she disguised herself and took the shape of another old woman. So she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!” Little Snow-white looked out and said, “Go away, I cannot let anyone come in.” “I suppose you can look,” said the old woman, and pulled the poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a bargain the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.” Poor little Snow-white had no suspicion, and let the old woman do as she pleased, but hardly had she put the comb in her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down senseless. “You paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now,” and she went away. 

But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs came home. When they saw Snow-white lying as if dead upon the ground they at once suspected the step-mother, and they looked and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out when Snow-white came to herself, and told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open the door to no one. 

The Queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

and it answered as before— 

“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she.” 

When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook with rage. “Snow-white shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!” 

Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that everyone who saw it longed for it; but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die. 

When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself up as a country woman, and so she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of the window and said, “I cannot let anyone in; the seven dwarfs have forbidden me.” “It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.” 

“No,” said Snow-white, “I dare not take anything.” “Are you afraid of poison?” said the old woman; “look, I will cut the apple in two pieces; you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.” The apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Snow-white longed for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman ate part of it she could resist no longer, and stretched out her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth than she fell down dead. Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood! this time the dwarfs cannot wake you up again.” 

And when she asked of the looking-glass at home— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

it answered at last— 

“Oh, Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.” 

Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have rest. 

The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found Snow-white lying upon the ground; she breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was all of no use; the poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days long. 

Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she were living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said, “We could not bury her in the dark ground,” and they had a transparent coffin of glass made, so that she could be seen from all sides, and they laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she was a king’s daughter. Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for Snow-white; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove. 

And now Snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she did not change, but looked as if she were asleep; for she was white as snow, red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony. 

It happened, however, that a king’s son came into the forest, and went to the dwarfs’ house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the mountain, and the beautiful Snow-white within it, and read what was written upon it in golden letters. Then he said to the dwarfs, “Let me have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it.” But the dwarfs answered, “We will not part with it for all the gold in the world.” Then he said, “Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live without seeing Snow-white. I will honor and prize her as my dearest possession.” As he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the coffin. 

And now the King’s son had it carried away by his servants on their shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten off came out of her throat. And before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive. “Oh, heavens, where am I?” she cried. The King’s son, full of joy, said, “You are with me,” and told her what had happened, and said, “I love you more than everything in the world; come with me to my father’s palace, you shall be my wife.” 

And Snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding was held with great show and splendor. But Snow-white’s wicked step-mother was also bidden to the feast. When she had arrayed herself in beautiful clothes she went before the looking-glass, and said— 

“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?” 

the glass answered— 

“Oh, Queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
But the young Queen is fairer by far as I trow.” 

Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched, so utterly wretched, that she knew not what to do. At first she would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and must go to see the young Queen. And when she went in she knew Snow-white; and she stood still with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance until she dropped down dead. 

Story taken from:  http://www.nationalgeographic.com/grimm/index2.html

Back to top

Gold-Tree and Silver Tree-From Scotland

Once upon a time there was a king who had a wife, whose name was Silver-Tree, and a daughter, whose name was Gold-Tree. On a certain day of the days, Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree went to a glen, where there was a well, and in it there was a trout. 

Said Silver-Tree, "Troutie, bonny little fellow, am not I the most beautiful queen in the world?" 

"Oh! indeed you are not." 

"Who then?" 

"Why, Gold-Tree, your daughter." 

Silver-Tree went home, blind with rage. She lay down on the bed, and vowed she would never be well until she could get the heart and the liver of Gold-Tree, her daughter, to eat. 

At nightfall the king came home, and it was told him that Silver-Tree, his wife, was very ill. He went where she was, and asked her what was wrong with her. 

"Oh! only a thing which you may heal if you like." 

"Oh! indeed there is nothing at all which I could do for you that I would not do." 

"If I get the heart and the liver of Gold-Tree, my daughter, to eat, I shall be well." 

Now it happened about this time that the son of a great king had come from abroad to ask Gold-Tree for marrying. The king now agreed to this, and they went abroad. 

The king then went and sent his lads to the hunting hill for a he goat, and he gave its heart and its liver to his wife to eat; and she rose well and healthy. 

A year after this Silver-Tree went to the glen, where there was the well in which there was the trout. 

"Troutie, bonny little fellow," said she, "am not I the most beautiful queen in the world?" 

"Oh! indeed you are not." 

"Who then?" 

"Why, Gold-Tree, your daughter." 

"Oh! well, it is long since she was living. It is a year since I ate her heart and liver." 

"Oh! indeed she is not dead. She is married to a great prince abroad." 

Silver-Tree went home, and begged the king to put the long-ship in order, and said, "I am going to see my dear Gold-Tree, for it is so long since I saw her." The long-ship was put in order, and they went away. 

It was Silver-Tree herself that was at the helm, and she steered the ship so well that they were not long at all before they arrived. 

The prince was out hunting on the hills. Gold-Tree knew the long-ship of her father coming. 

"Oh!" said she to the servants, "my mother is coming, and she will kill me." 

"She shall not kill you at all; we will lock you in a room where she cannot get near you." 

This is how it was done; and when Silver-Tree came ashore, she began to cry out, "Come to meet your own mother, when she comes to see you." 

Gold-Tree said that she could not, that she was locked in the room, and that she could not get out of it. 

"Will you not put out," said Silver-Tree, "your little finger through the keyhole, so that your own mother may give a kiss to it?" 

She put out her little finger, and Silver-Tree went and put a poisoned stab in it, and Gold-Tree fell dead. 

When the prince came home, and found Gold-Tree dead, he was in great sorrow, and when he saw how beautiful she was, he did not bury her at all, but he locked her in a room where nobody would get near her. 

In the course of time he married again, and the whole house was under the hand of this wife but one room, and he himself always kept the key of that room. On a certain day of the days her forgot to take the key with him, and the second wife got into the room. What did she see there but the most beautiful woman that she ever saw. 

She began to turn and try to wake her, and she noticed the poisoned stab in her finger. She took the stab out, and Gold-Tree rose alive, as beautiful as she was ever. 

At the fall of night the prince came home from the hunting hill, looking very downcast. 

"What gift," said his wife, "would you give me that I could make you laugh?" 

"Oh! indeed, nothing could make me laugh, except Gold-Tree were to come alive again." 

"Well, you'll find her alive down there in the room." 

When the prince saw Gold-Tree alive her made great rejoicings, and he began to kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Said the second wife, "Since she is the first one you had it is better for you to stick to her, and I will go away." 

"Oh! indeed you shall not go away, but I shall have both of you." 

At the end of the year, Silver-Tree went to the glen, where there was the well, in which there was the trout. 

"Troutie, bonny little fellow," said she, "am not I the most beautiful queen in the world?" 

"Oh! indeed you are not." 

"Who then?" 

"Why Gold-Tree, your daughter." 

"Oh! well, she is not alive. It is a year since I put the poisoned stab into her finger." 

"Oh! indeed she is not dead at all, at all." 

Silver-Tree went home, and begged the king to put the long-ship in order, for that she was going to see her dear Gold-Tree, as it was so long since she saw her. The long-ship was put in order, and they went away. It was Silver-Tree herself that was at the helm, and she steered the ship so well that they were not long at all before they arrived. 

The prince was out hunting on the hills. Gold-Tree knew her father's ship coming. 

"Oh!" said she, "my mother is coming, and she will kill me." 

"Not at all," said the second wife; "we will go down to meet her." 

Silver-Tree came ashore. "Come down, Gold tree, love," said she, "for your own mother has come to you with a precious drink." 

"It is a custom in this country," said the second wife, "that the person who offers a drink takes a draught out of it first." 

Silver-Tree put her mouth to it, and the second wife went and struck it so that some of it went down her throat, and she fell dead. they had only to carry her home a dead corpse and bury her. 

The prince and his two wives were long alive after this, pleased and peaceful. 

I left them there. 

Story taken from:  http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0709.html#goldtree

Back to top

Maria, the Wicked Stepmother, and the Seven Robbers-From Italy 

Because of these friendly greetings the man thought, "She would be a wife for me," and he married the woman. 

After they were married, the woman became very unfriendly toward poor Maria, for stepmothers have always been that way, and with time she could not stand her at all. 

Then she said to her husband, "The girl eats too much of our bread. We will have to get rid of her." 

But the man said, "I cannot kill my child!" 

Then the woman said, "Tomorrow take her with you out into the country and leave her there alone, so that she will not be able to find her way back home." 

The next day the man called his daughter and said to her, "We are going out into the country. We will take something to eat with us." 

Then he got a large loaf of bread, and they set forth. However, Maria was clever, and she filled her pockets with bran. As she walked along behind her father, from time to time she threw down a little pile of bran onto the pathway. After walking for many hours they came to the top of a steep cliff. Her father dropped the loaf of bread over the cliff, then cried out, "Oh, Maria, our bread fell down there!" 

"Father," said Maria, "I will climb down and get it." 

So she climbed down the cliff and got the bread, but by the time she had climbed back up to the top, her father had gone away, and Maria was all alone. 

She started to cry, for she was very far from home, and in a strange place. But then she thought about the bran and took courage. Following the bran, she finally arrived home again, late that night. 

"Oh, father," she said, "why did you leave me alone?"

The man comforted her and talked to her until he had reassured her. 

The stepmother was very angry that Maria had found the way back, and some time later she again told her husband that he should take Maria out into the country and abandon her in the woods. 

The next morning the man called his daughter once again, and they set forth. The father again carried a loaf of bread, but Maria forgot to take the bran with her. In the woods they came to an even steeper and higher cliff. The father again dropped the bread over the edge, and Maria had to climb down to get it. When she arrived back at the top, her father had gone away, and she was alone. She began to cry bitterly, and she ran one way and the other for a long time, only to find herself even deeper in the dark woods. 

Evening came, and suddenly she saw a light. She walked toward it and came to a little house. Inside she found a set table and seven beds, but no people were there. 

The house belonged to seven robbers. 

Maria hid behind a dough trough, and soon the seven robbers returned home. They ate and drank, and then went to bed. The next morning they left, but the youngest brother remained at home in order to cook the food and clean the house. After they had left, the youngest brother went out to buy food. Then Maria came out from behind the dough trough, swept and cleaned the house, and then put the kettle on the fire in order to cook the beans. Then once again she hid behind the dough trough. 

When the youngest brother returned home he was amazed to see everything so clean, and when his brothers came back, he told them what had happened. They were all astonished and could not imagine how it had happened. The next day the second brother remained at home alone. He pretended that he too was going away, but he returned at once and saw Maria, who had come out once again to clean up the house. 

Maria was frightened when she saw the robber. "Oh," she begged, " for heaven's sake, do not kill me!" 

"Who are you?" asked the robber. 

Then she told him about her wicked stepmother, and how her father had abandoned her in the woods, and how for two days she had been hiding behind the dough trough. 

"You don't have to be afraid of us," said the robber. "Stay here with us and be our sister, and cook, sew, and wash for us." 

When the other brothers returned home, they were satisfied with this, so Maria stayed with the seven robbers, did their housekeeping, and was always quiet and diligent. 

One day as she was sitting by the window sewing, a poor old woman came by and asked for alms. 

"Oh," said Maria, "I don't have much, for I myself am a poor, unhappy girl, but I will give you what I have." 

"Why are you so unhappy?" asked the beggar woman. 

Then Maria told her how she had left home and had come here. The poor woman went forth and told the wicked stepmother that Maria was still alive. When the stepmother heard this she was very angry, and she gave the beggar woman a ring that she was to take to poor Maria. The ring was a magic ring. 

Eight days later the poor woman came again to Maria to beg for alms, and when Maria gave her something, she said, "Look, my child, I have here a beautiful ring. Because you have been so good to me, I want to give it to you." 

Suspecting nothing, Maria took the ring, but when she put it on her finger she fell down dead. 

When the robbers returned home and found Maria on the floor, they were very sad, and they cried bitterly for her. Then they made a beautiful coffin and laid Maria inside it, after having adorned her with the most beautiful jewelry. They also put a large amount of gold in the coffin, which they then set on an oxcart. They drove the oxcart into the city. When they came to the king's castle they saw that the stall door was wide open. They drove the oxen inside, in order to bring the cart into the stall. This caused the horses to become very uneasy, and they began rearing up and making noise. 

Hearing the noise, the king sent someone down to ask the stall-master what had happened. The stall-master answered that a cart had been driven into the stall. No one was with the cart, but on it there was a beautiful coffin. 

The king ordered that the coffin be brought to his room, and there he had it opened. When he saw the beautiful dead girl inside, he began to cry bitterly, and he could not leave her. He had four large wax candles brought and had them placed at the four corners of the coffin and lit. Then he sent everyone out of the room, barred the door, fell onto his knees before the coffin, and wept hot tears. 

When it was time to eat, his mother sent for him, asking him to come. He did not answer at once, but instead wept all the more fervently. Then the old queen herself came and knocked on the door and asked him to open it, but he did not answer. She looked through the keyhole, and when she saw that her son was kneeling next to a corpse, she had the door broken down. 

However, when she saw the beautiful girl, she herself was very moved, and she leaned over Maria and took her hand. Seeing the beautiful ring, she thought that it would be a shame to let it be buried along with the corpse, so she pulled it off. Then all at once the dead Maria came to life again. 

The young king said joyfully to his mother, "This girl shall be my wife!"

The old queen answered, "Yes, so shall it be!" and she embraced Maria.

Thus Maria became the king's wife, and the queen. They lived joyfully and in splendor until they died. 

Story taken from: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0709.html

Back to top

The Crystal Casket-From Italy

There was once a widower who had a daughter. This daughter was between ten and twelve years old. Her father sent her to
school, and as she was all alone in the world commended her always to her teacher. Now, the teacher, seeing that the child had
no mother, fell in love with the father, and kept saying to the girl, "Ask your father if he would like me for a wife." 

This she said to her every day, and at last the girl said, "Papa, the school-mistress is always asking me if you will marry her." 

The father said, "Eh! my daughter, if I take another wife, you will have great troubles." 

But the girl persisted, and finally the father was persuaded to go one evening to the schoolmistress' house. When she saw him she
was well pleased, and they settled the marriage in a few days.  Poor child! How bitterly she had to repent having found a
stepmother so ungrateful and cruel to her! She sent her every day out on a terrace to water a pot of basil, and it was so dangerous that if she fell she would go into a large river. 

One day there came by a large eagle, and said to her, "What are you doing her?" She was weeping because she saw how great
the danger was of falling into the stream. The eagle said to her, "Get on my back, and I will carry you away, and you will be
happier than with your new mamma." 

After a long journey they reached a great plain, where they found a beautiful palace all of crystal; the eagle knocked at the door and said, "Open, my ladies, open! for I have brought you a pretty girl." When the people in the palace opened the door, and saw
that lovely girl, they were amazed, and kissed and caressed her. Meanwhile the door was closed, and they remained peaceful and contended. 

Let us return to the eagle, who thought she was doing a spite to the stepmother. One day the eagle flew away to the terrace where the stepmother was watering the basil. "Where is your daughter?" asked the eagle. 

"Eh!" she replied, "perhaps she fell from this terrace and went into the river; I have not heard from her in ten days." 

The eagle answered, "What a fool you are! I carried her away; seeing that you treated her so harshly I carried her away to my
fairies, and she is very well." Then the eagle flew away. 

The stepmother, filled with rage and jealousy, called a witch from the city, and said to her, "You see my daughter is alive, and is in the house of some fairies of an eagle which often comes upon my terrace; now you must do me the favor to find some way to kill this stepdaughter of mine, for I am afraid that some day or other she will return, and my husband, discovering this matter, will
certainly kill me." 

The witch answered, "Oh, you need not be afraid of that; leave it to me." 

What did the witch do? She had made a little basketful of sweetmeats, in which she put a charm; then she wrote a letter,
pretending that it was her father, who, having learned where she was, wished to make her this present, and the letter pretended
that her father was so glad to hear that she was with the fairies.  Let us leave the witch who is arranging all this deception, and
return to Ermellina (for so the young girl was named). The fairies had said to her, "See, Ermellina, we are going away, and shall be absent four days; now in this time take good care not to open the door to anyone, for some treachery is being prepared for you by your stepmother." 

She promised to open the door to no one: "Do not be anxious, I am well off, and my stepmother has nothing to do with me." 

But it was not so. The fairies went away, and the next day when Ermellina was alone, she heard a knocking at the door, and said to herself, "Knock away! I don't open to anyone." 

But meanwhile the blows redoubled, and curiosity forced her to look out of the window. What did she see? She saw one the
servant girls of her own home (for the witch had disguised herself as one of her father's servants). "O my dear Ermellina," she said, "your father is shedding tears of sorrow for you, because he really believed you were dead, but the eagle which carried you off came and told him the good news that you were here with the fairies. Meanwhile your father, not knowing what civility to show you, for he understands very well that you are in need of nothing, has thought to send you this little basket of sweetmeats." 

Ermellina had not yet opened the door; the servant begged her to come down and take the basket and the letter, but she said, "No, I wish nothing!" but finally, since women, and especially young girls, are fond of sweetmeats, she descended and opened the door. When the witch had given her the basket, she said, "Eat this," and broke off for her a piece of the sweetmeats which she had poisoned. When Ermellina took the first mouthful the old woman disappeared. Ermellina had scarcely time to close the
door, when she fell down on the stairs. 

When the fairies returned they knocked at the door, but no one opened it for them; then they perceived that there had been some treachery, and began to weep. Then the chief of the fairies said, "We must break open the door," and so they did, and saw
Ermellina dead on the stairs. 

Her other friends who loved her so dearly begged the chief of the fairies to bring her to life, but she would not, "for," she said, "she has disobeyed me." But one and the other asked her until she consented; she opened Ermellina's mouth, took out a piece of the sweetmeat which she had not yet swallowed, raised her up, and Ermellina came to life again. 

We can imagine what a pleasure it was for her fiends; but the chief of the fairies reproved her for her disobedience, and she promised not to do so again. 

Once more the fairies were obliged to depart. Their chief said, "Remember, Ermellina: The first time I cured you, but the second I will have nothing to do with you." 

 Ermellina said they need not worry, that she would not open to anyone. But it was not so; for the eagle, thinking to increase her 
stepmother's anger, told her again that Ermellina was alive. The stepmother denied it all to the eagle, but she summoned anew the
witch, and told her that her stepdaughter was still alive, saying, "Either you will really kill her, or I will be avenged on you." 

The old woman, finding herself caught, told her to buy a very handsome dress, one of the handsomest she could find, and
transformed herself into a tailoress belonging to the family, took the dress, departed, went to poor Ermellina, knocked at the door and said, "Open, open, for I am your tailoress." 

Ermellina looked out of the window and saw her tailoress; and was, in truth, a little confused (indeed, anyone would have been
 so). 

The tailoress said, "Come down, I must fit a dress on you." 

She replied, "No, no; for I have been deceived once." 

"But I am not the old woman," replied the tailoress, "you know me, for I have always made your dresses." 

Poor Ermellina was persuaded, and descended the stairs; the tailoress took to flight while Ermellina was yet buttoning up the
dress, and disappeared. Ermellina closed the door, and was mounting the stairs; but it was not permitted her to go up, for she
fell down dead. 

Let us return to the fairies, who came home and knocked at the door; but what good did it do to knock! There was no longer
anyone there. They began to weep. The chief of the fairies said, "I told you that she would betray me again; but now I will have
nothing more to do with her." 

So they broke open the door, and saw the poor girl with the beautiful dress on; but she was dead. They all wept, because
they really loved her. But there was nothing to do; the chief struck her enchanted wand, and commanded a beautiful rich
casket all covered with diamonds and other precious stones to appear; then the others made a beautiful garland of flowers and
gold, put it on the young girl, and then laid her in the casket, which was so rich and beautiful that it was marvelous to behold. Then the old fairy struck her wand as usual and commanded a handsome horse, the like of which not even the king possessed. Then they took the casket, put it on the horse's back, and led him into the public square of the city, and the chief of the fairies said, "Go, and do not stop until you find someone who says to you, 'Stop, for pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you.'" 

Now let us leave the afflicted fairies, and turn our attention to the horse, which ran away at full speed. Who happened to pass at
that moment? The son of a king (the name of this king is not known); and saw this horse with that wonder on its back. Then
the king began to spur his horse, and rode him so hard that he killed him, and had to leave him dead in the road; but the king
kept running after the other horse. The poor king could endure it no longer; he saw himself lost, and exclaimed, "Stop, for pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you!" 

Then the horse stopped (for those were the words). When the king saw that beautiful girl dead in the casket, he thought no
more about his own horse, but took the other to the city. The king's mother knew that her son had gone hunting; when she saw
him returning with this loaded horse, she did not know what to think. The son had no father, wherefore he was all powerful. He
reached the palace, had the horse unloaded, and the casket carried to his chamber; then he called his mother and said, 
"Mother, I went hunting, but I have found a wife." 

"But what is it? A doll? A dead woman?" 

"Mother," replied her son, "don't trouble yourself about what it is, it is my wife." 

His mother began to laugh, and withdrew to her own room (what could she do, poor mother?). 

Now this poor king no longer went hunting, took no diversion, did not even go to the table, but ate in his own room. By a fatality
it happened that war was declared against him, and he was obliged to depart. He called his mother, and said, "Mother, I wish
two careful chambermaids, whose business it shall be to guard this casket; for if on my return I find that anything has happened
to my casket, I shall have the chambermaids killed." 

His mother, who loved him, said, "Go, my son, fear nothing, for I myself will watch over your casket." 

He wept several days at being obliged to abandon this treasure of his, but there was no help for it, he had to go. After his departure he did nothing but commend his wife (so he called her) to his mother in his letters. 

Let us return to the mother, who no longer thought about the matter, not even to have the casket dusted; but all at once there
came a letter which informed her that the king had been victorious, and should return to his palace in a few days. The
mother called the chambermaids, and said to them, "Girls, we are ruined." 

They replied, "Why, Highness?" 

"Because my son will be back in a few days, and how have we taken care of the doll?" 

They answered, "True, true; now let us go and wash the doll's face." 

They went to the king's room and saw that the doll's face and hands were covered with dust and fly specks, so they took a
sponge and washed her face, but some drops of water fell on her dress and spotted it. The poor chambermaids began to weep, and went to the queen for advice. 

The queen said, "Do you know what to do! Call a tailoress, and have a dress precisely like this bought, and take off this one
before my son comes." 

They did so, and the chambermaids went to the room and began to unbutton the dress. The moment that they took off the first
sleeve, Ermellina opened her eyes. The poor chambermaids sprang up in terror, but one of the most courageous said, "I am a
woman, and so is this one; she will not eat me." 

To cut the matter short, she took off thee dress, and when it was removed Ermellina began to get out of the casket to walk about
and see where she was. The chambermaids fell on their knees before her and begged her to tell them who she was. She, poor
girl, told them the whole story. Then she said, "I wish to know where I am." 

Then the chambermaids called the king's mother to explain it to her. The mother did not fail to tell her everything, and she, poor
girl, did nothing but weep penitently, thinking of what the fairies had done for her. 

The king was on the point of arriving, and his mother said to the doll, "Come her; put on one of my best dresses." In short, she
arrayed her like a queen. Then came her son. They shut the doll up in a small room, so that she could not be seen. The king came with great joy, with trumpets blowing, and banners flying for the victory. But he took no interest in all this, and ran at once to his room to see the doll; the chambermaids fell on their knees before him saying that the doll smelled so badly that they could not stay in the palace, and were obliged to bury her. 

The king would not listen to this excuse, but at once called two of the palace servants to erect the gallows. His mother comforted
him in vain: "My son, it was a dead woman." 

"No, no, I will not listen to any reasons; dead or alive, you should have left it for me." 

Finally, when his mother saw that he was in earnest about the gallows, she rang a little bell, and there cam forth no longer the
doll, but a very beautiful girl, whose like was never seen. The king was amazed, and said, "What is this!" 

Then his mother, the chambermaids, and Ermellina were obliged to tell him all that had happened. 

He said, "Mother, since I adored her when dead, and called her my wife, now I mean her to be my wife in truth." 

"Yes, my son," replied his mother, "do so, for I am willing." 

They arranged the wedding, and in a few days were man and wife.

Story taken from: http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/sevendwarfs/stories/crystal.html

Back to top

Bibliography-

Snow White stories from other cultures:

Megas, Georgios A., ed. "Myrsina." Folktales of Greece. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, c1970. 

Pino-Saaverdra, Yolando, ed. "Blanca Rosa and the Forty Thieves." Folktales of Chile. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, c1967.
 

Villa, Susie Hoogasian. "Nourie Hadig." 100 Armenian Tales. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, c1966.
 

Snow White variations: 

Collins, Sheila Hebert.  Blanchette et les sept petits Cajuns : a Cajun Snow White. Grenta, LA : Pelican Pub. Co., c2002.
 

French, Fiona. Snow White in New York. New York: Oxford, 1990.
 

Novels based on Snow White:

Holt, Tom. Snow White and the Seven Samurai. London: Orbit Book, 1999.
 

Lackey, Mercedes. The Serpent's Shadow. New York: DAW Books, 2001.
 

Lee, Tanith. White as Snow. New York: Tor Books, 2000. 
 

Lynn, Tracy. Snow. New York: Simon Pulse, 2003.
 

Maguire, Gregory. Mirror, Mirror. New York: Regan Books, 2003. 
 

Yolen, Jane. Touch Magic. Little Rock: August House, c2000.
 

Back to top