He
might scream as he liked,--it was of no use. Then
she went to Grethel, shook her till she awoke and
cried: ``Get up, lazy thing; fetch some water, and
cook something good for your brother; he is in the
stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he
is fat, I will eat him.''
Grethel began to weep, but it was all in vain; she
was forced to do what the wicked witch told her.
And now the best food was cooked for poor
Hansel, but Grethel got nothing but crab-shells.
Every morning the woman crept to the little
stable, and cried, ``Hansel, stretch out your finger
that I may feel if you will soon be fat.''
Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to
her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could
not see it; she thought it was Hansel's finger, and
wondered why he grew no fatter. When four weeks
had gone by, and Hansel still was thin, she could
wait no longer.
``Come, Grethel,'' she cried to the girl, ``fly
round and bring some water. Let Hansel be fat
or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him.''
Ah, how sad was the poor little sister when she
had to fetch the water, and how her tears did flow
down over her cheeks!
``Dear God, do help us,'' she cried. ``If the
wild beasts in the forest had but eaten us, we
should at any rate have died together.''
``Just keep your noise to yourself,'' said the
old woman; ``all that won't help you at all.
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