SISTER AND HALF-SISTER
Martha Ward Carey translation
A MULHOUSE STORY
ONCE there was a woman who had two daughters: one was her husband’s daughter by his first marriage, and the other was her own child. One day when the half-sister was spinning by the well, her spindle fell into the water and her mother beat her cruelly. She went back to the well and was trying to get her spindle out again, when her hard-hearted mother gave her such a push that the poor girl fell into the well.
When she reached the bottom she found a large and magnificent garden. As she was walking along, in tears, the pear-tree said to her,—
“Young girl, why are you crying so?”
The young girl answered,—
“Have I not good reason to cry? My step-mother gave me such a push that I fell into the well.”
The pear-tree said,—
“Young girl, hold your apron; I will give you some pears.” And the young girl received from him the most delicious pears.
Afterwards she came to a plum-tree; the plum-tree said to her,—
“Young girl, why are you crying so?”
The young girl answered,—
“Have I not good reason to cry? My step-mother gave me such a push that I fell into the well.”
The plum-tree said to her,—
“Hold your apron; I will give you some plums”; and he shook into her lap the most beautiful plums. And the good little girl was treated in the same way by the other trees.
At last she came to a grand castle all of gold, and she was still shedding bitter tears. A fair lady was looking out at the window; she asked her,—
“Young girl, why are you crying?”
“Have I not good reason to cry? My step-mother gave me such a push that I fell into the well.”
“Come now,” said the lady, “you can spend the night with me; but first tell me, where do you prefer to eat—with the little dog and the little cat, or with the gentleman and lady?”
The young girl answered modestly,—
“With the little dog and the little cat. I should not like to be in any one’s way.”
And on this account they permitted her to eat with the lady and gentleman.
The lady said to her,—
“Where do you prefer to sleep—with the little dog and the little cat, or with the gentleman and lady?”
The young girl answered,—
“With the little dog and the little cat.”
And accordingly they permitted her to sleep with the gentleman and lady.
The next day the lady said to her,—
“How would you prefer to be driven back to your home?—in a carriage smeared with pitch and resin, or in one all of silver and gold?”
The young girl answered,—
“In one smeared with pitch and resin.”
But she was allowed to return in a carriage of silver and gold.
When she arrived at home, her half-sister, who was looking out of the window, began to clap her hands and cry out,—
“O! Bidi bidi boum! My half-sister comes, And heavily laden With silver and gold. I must go and help her unload. O! Bidi bidi boum!”
When the wicked mother saw that the half-sister had become so distinguished, she said to her own child,—
“Come now, Annette! throw your spindle also into the well and jump in after it! Who knows? Perhaps the same thing will happen to you down there, and you will be able to come back in a golden carriage.”
But this one was a wicked and obstinate child. Her mother had scarcely finished speaking before the spindle was at the bottom of the well, and the little girl leaped after it and came into the large beautiful garden of which I have already spoken. The sun shone with a golden brightness, and the roses and lilies—oh! but it was perfectly splendid!
The little girl went to the pear-tree and said,—
“Come now, give me some pears also!”
But she waited a long time, and the pear-tree did not move.
She went a little farther and came to a plum-tree, and said to it,—
“Come, plum-tree, give me also some plums.”
But it gave her nothing, that is what the plum-tree did; what the other trees did, it is needless for me to tell you.
The fair lady was again looking out from her palace at the end of the garden, and said,—
“Young girl, where are you going? From whence do you come? What does your little heart long for?”
“I wish to come in, I wish to eat, I wish to sleep in a little garden bed, and I wish to go back again in a little golden carriage.”
The lady could scarcely help laughing, but she continued her questions:—
“With which do you prefer to eat—with dog and cat, or with lord and lady?”
“Why, with lord and lady, of course.”
And consequently she was obliged, as a punishment, to eat with the dog and cat.
A little while afterwards the lady asked her again,—
“With which would you like best to sleep—with the dog and cat, or with the lord and lady?”
“Why, with the lord and lady, of course.”
But who was obliged to sleep with the dog and cat? It was my wicked little girl.
The next morning when she got up, the lady said to her,—
“How would you prefer to go back to your home—in a carriage smeared with pitch and resin, or in a carriage of gold and silver?”
“In the gold carriage, certainly,” cried she.
But for punishment, she was obliged to go back again in the carriage smeared with resin.
What did her mother say when she saw her child return in the carriage smeared with pitch and resin, disgraced and scoffed at, and what did she look like then? Well, I should like to tell you about it; but my great-grandmother, who was so good as to tell me the story, was losing her memory, and could not remember any more.
Auguste Stoeber, “Elsaessiches Volksbüchlein.”