The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
Animal Sketches And Stories
Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon
BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS
CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES
FABLES FOR CHILDREN
FABLES FROM INDIA
FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS
FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
For Classes Ii. And Iii.
For Classes Iv. And V.
For Kindergarten And Class I.
FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
Good Little Henry
JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]
Jean De La Fontaine
King Alexander's Adventures
KINGS AND WARRIORS
LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
Lessons From Nature
LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG
MODERN FAIRY TALES
MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED
MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES
MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES
Myths And Legends
NEGLECT THE FIRE
ON POPULAR EDUCATION
PLACES AND FAMILIES
Poems Of Nature
RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)
RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"
RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE
ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY
Selections From The Bible
SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES
Some Children's Poets
Songs Of Life
STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS
STORIES FOR CHILDREN
STORIES for LITTLE BOYS
STORIES FROM BOTANY
STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN
STORIES FROM IRELAND
STORIES FROM PHYSICS
STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA
STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY
STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK
The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers
The Little Grey Mouse
THE OLD FAIRY TALES
The Princess Rosette
THE THREE HERMITS
THE TWO OLD MEN
UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES
VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO
Spindle Shuttle And Needle
from The Green Fairy Book
Once upon a time there lived a girl who lost her father and mother
when she was quite a tiny child. Her godmother lived all alone in
a little cottage at the far end of the village, and there she
earned her living by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman
took the little orphan home with her and brought her up in good,
pious, industrious habits.
When the girl was fifteen years old, her godmother fell ill, and,
calling the child to her bedside, she said: 'My dear daughter, I
feel that my end is near. I leave you my cottage, which will, at
least, shelter you, and also my spindle, my weaver's shuttle, and
my needle, with which to earn your bread.'
Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her, and
added: 'Mind and be good, and then all will go well with you.'
With that she closed her eyes for the last time, and when she was
carried to her grave the girl walked behind her coffin weeping
bitterly, and paid her all the last honours.
After this the girl lived all alone in the little cottage. She
worked hard, spinning, weaving, and sewing, and her old
godmother's blessing seemed to prosper all she did. The flax
seemed to spread and increase; and when she wove a carpet or a
piece of linen, or made a shirt, she was sure to find a customer
who paid her well, so that not only did she feel no want herself,
but she was able to help those who did.
Now, it happened that about this time the King's son was making a
tour through the entire country to look out for a bride. He could
not marry a poor woman, and he did not wish for a rich one.
'She shall be my wife,' said he, 'who is at once the poorest and
When he reached the village where the girl lived, he inquired who
was the richest and who the poorest woman in it. The richest was
named first; the poorest, he was told, was a young girl who lived
alone in a little cottage at the far end of the village.
The rich girl sat at her door dressed out in all her best clothes,
and when the King's son came near she got up, went to meet him,
and made him a low curtsey. He looked well at her, said nothing,
but rode on further.
When he reached the poor girl's house he did not find her at her
door, for she was at work in her room. The Prince reined in his
horse, looked in at the window through which the sun was shining
brightly, and saw the girl sitting at her wheel busily spinning
She looked up, and when she saw the King's son gazing in at her,
she blushed red all over, cast down her eyes and span on. Whether
the thread was quite as even as usual I really cannot say, but she
went on spinning till the King's son had ridden off. Then she
stepped to the window and opened the lattice, saying, 'The room is
so hot,' but she looked after him as long as she could see the
white plumes in his hat.
Then she sat down to her work once more and span on, and as she
did so an old saying which, she had often heard her godmother
repeat whilst at work, came into her head, and she began to sing:
'Spindle, spindle, go and see, If my love will come to me.'
Lo, and behold! the spindle leapt from her hand and rushed out of
the room, and when she had sufficiently recovered from her
surprise to look after it she saw it dancing merrily through the
fields, dragging a long golden thread after it, and soon it was
lost to sight.
The girl, having lost her spindle, took up the shuttle and,
seating herself at her loom, began to weave. Meantime the spindle
danced on and on, and just as it had come to the end of the golden
thread, it reached the King's son.
'What do I see?' he cried; 'this spindle seems to wish to point
out the way to me.' So he turned his horses head and rode back
beside the golden thread.
Meantime the girl sat weaving, and sang:
'Shuttle, weave both web and woof, Bring my love beneath my roof.'
The shuttle instantly escaped from her hand, and with one bound
was out at the door. On the threshold it began weaving the
loveliest carpet that was ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on
both sides, and in the centre a thicket seemed to grow with
rabbits and hares running through it, stags and fawns peeping
through the branches, whilst on the topmost boughs sat birds of
brilliant plumage and so life-like one almost expected to hear
them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side and the carpet
seemed almost to grow of itself.
As the shuttle had run away the girl sat down to sew. She took her
needle and sang:
'Needle, needle, stitch away, Make my chamber bright and gay,'
and the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about
the room like lightning. You would have thought invisible spirits
were at work, for in next to no time the table and benches were
covered with green cloth, the chairs with velvet, and elegant silk
curtains hung before the windows. The needle had barely put in its
last stitch when the girl, glancing at the window, spied the white
plumed hat of the King's son who was being led back by the spindle
with the golden thread.
He dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when
he entered the room there stood the girl blushing like any rose.
'You are the poorest and yet the richest,' said he: 'come with me,
you shall be my bride.'
She said nothing, but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her,
and led her out, lifted her on his horse and took her to his royal
palace, where the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.
The spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in
the treasury, and were always held in the very highest honour.
Next: The Crystal Coffin
Previous: The Twelve Huntsmen