格林童话集：The Spindle，the Shuttle and the Needle
there was once a girl whose father and mother died while she was still a little child. all alone,
in a small house at the end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself by
spinning, weaving, and sewing. the old woman took the forlorn child to live with her, kept her
to her work, and educated her in all that is good. when the girl was fifteen years old, the old
woman became ill, called the child to her bedside, and said, "dear daughter, i feel my end
drawing near. i leave thee the little house, which will protect thee from wind and weather, and
my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which thou canst earn thy bread." then she laid her hands
on the girl's head, blessed her, and said, "only preserve the love of god in thy heart, and all will
go well with thee." thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was laid in the earth, the
maiden followed the coffin, weeping bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect. and now the
maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and was industrious, and span, wove, and sewed, and
the blessing of the good old woman was on all that she did. it seemed as if the flax in the room
increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a
shirt, she at once found a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of nothing, and
even had something to share with others.
about this time, the son of the king was travelling about the country looking for a bride. he was
not to choose a poor one, and did not want to have a rich one. so he said, "she shall be my wife
who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest." when he came to the village where the
maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest
girl in the place? they first named the richest; the poorest, they said, was the girl who lived in
the small house quite at the end of the village. the rich girl was sitting in all her splendour
before the door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up, went to meet him,
and made him a low curtsey. he looked at her, said nothing, and rode on. when he came to the
house of the poor girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little room. he stopped
his horse, and saw through the window, on which the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at
her spinning-wheel, busily spinning. she looked up, and when she saw that the prince was
looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall, and went on spinning. i do not know
whether, just at that moment, the thread was quite even; but she went on spinning until the king's
son had ridden away again. then she went to the window, opened it, and said, "it is so warm in
this room!" but she still looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white feathers in his
hat. then she sat down to work again in her own room and went on with her spinning, and a
saying which the old woman had often repeated when she was sitting at her work, came into her
mind, and she sang these words to herself, --
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