the castle. When all the people were gathered together, the
King's son stepped in among the crowd and cried:

'The maiden whose finger this ring slips over, whose head this golden
hoop encircles, and whose foot this shoe fits, shall be my bride.'

What a great trying on there was now among them all! The things would
fit no one, however.

'The cinder wench is not here,' said the Prince at last; 'go and fetch
her, and let her try on the things.'

So the girl was fetched, and the Prince was just going to hand the
ornaments to her, when the witch held him back, saying:

'Don't give them to her; she soils everything with cinders; give them to
my daughter rather.'

Well, then the Prince gave the witch's daughter the ring, and the woman
filed and pared away at her daughter's finger till the ring fitted. It
was the same with the circlet and the shoes of gold. The witch would
not allow them to be handed to the cinder wench; she worked at her own
daughter's head and feet till she got the things forced on. What was to
be done now? The Prince had to take the witch's daughter for his bride
whether he would or no; he sneaked away to her father's house with
her, however, for he was ashamed to hold the wedding festivities at the
palace with so strange a bride. Some days passed, and at last he had to
take his bride home to the palace, and he got ready to do so. Just as
they were taking leave, the kitchen wench sprang down from her place by
the stove, on the pretext of fetching something from the cowhouse, and
in going by she whispered in the Prince's ear as he stood in the yard:

'Alas! dear Prince, do not rob me of my silver and my gold.'

Thereupon the King's son recognised the cinder wench; so he took both
the girls with him, and set out. After they had gone some little way
they came to the bank of a river, and the Prince threw the witch's
daughter across to serve as a bridge, and so got over with the cinder
wench. There lay the witch's daughter then, like a bridge over the
river, and could not stir, though her heart was consumed with grief. No
help was near, so she cried at last in her anguish:

'May there grow a golden hemlock out of my body! perhaps my mother will
know me by that token.'

Scarcely had she spoken when a golden hemlock sprang up from her, and
stood upon the bridge.

Now, as soon as the Prince had got rid of the witch's daughter he
greeted the cinder wench as his bride, and they wandered together to the