to obey the Witch’s orders. The best food was now cooked for poor Hansel, but Grethel only had the shells of cray-fish.
The old Woman hobbled to the stable every morning, and cried: ‘Hansel, put your finger out for me to feel how fat you are.’
Hansel put out a knuckle-bone, and the old Woman, whose eyes were dim, could not see, and thought it was his finger, and she was much astonished that he did not get fat.
When four weeks had passed, and Hansel still kept thin, she became very impatient and would wait no longer.
‘Now then, Grethel,’ she cried, ‘bustle along and fetch the water. Fat or thin, to-morrow I will kill Hansel and eat him.’
Oh, how his poor little sister grieved. As she carried the water, the tears streamed down her cheeks.
‘Dear God, help us!’ she cried. ‘If only the wild animals in the forest had devoured us, we should, at least, have died together.’
‘You may spare your lamentations; they will do you no good,’ said the old Woman.
Early in the morning Grethel had to go out to fill the kettle with water, and then she had to kindle a fire and hang the kettle over it.
‘We will bake first,’ said the old Witch. ‘I have heated the oven and kneaded the dough.’
She pushed poor Grethel towards the oven, and said: ‘Creep in and see if it is properly heated, and then we will put the bread in.’
She meant, when Grethel had got in, to shut the door and roast her.
But Grethel saw her intention, and said: ‘I don’t know how to get in. How am I to manage it?’
“Stupid goose!’ cried the Witch. ‘The opening is big enough; you can see that I could get into it myself.’
She hobbled up, and stuck her head into the oven. But