"
All night long the Queen racked her brains for all the names she could
think of, and sent a messenger through the country to collect far and
wide any new names. The following morning came the Dwarf, and she began
with "Caspar," "Melchior," "Balthassar," and all the odd names she knew;
but at each the little Man exclaimed, "That is not my name." The second
day the Queen inquired of all her people for uncommon and curious names,
and called the Dwarf "Ribs-of-Beef," "Sheep-shank," "Whalebone," but at
each he said, "This is not my name." The third day the messenger came
back and said, "I have not found a single name; but as I came to a high
mountain near the edge of a forest, where foxes and hares say good night
to each other, I saw there a little house, and before the door a fire
was burning, and round this fire a very curious little Man was dancing
on one leg, and shouting:
"'To-day I stew, and then I'll bake,
To-morrow I shall the Queen's child take;
Ah! how famous it is that nobody knows
That my name is Rumpelstiltskin.'"
When the Queen heard this she was very glad, for now she knew the name;
and soon after came the Dwarf, and asked, "Now, my lady Queen, what is
my name?"
First she said, "Are you called Conrade?" "No."
"Are you called Hal?" "No."
"Are you called Rumpelstiltskin?"
"A witch has told you! a witch has told you!" shrieked the little Man,
and stamped his right foot so hard in the ground with rage that he could
not draw it out again.
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