Gretel wept bitterly, but it was quite in vain, for she was
obliged to do the witch's bidding; and every day she cooked the
choicest food for her brother, while she herself lived upon nothing
but oyster-shells.
Day by day the old woman visited the stable and called to Hansel to
put his finger through the window bars, that she might see if he were
getting fat; but the little fellow held out a bone instead, and as her
eyes were dim with age, she mistook the bone for the boy's finger,
and thought how thin and lean he was. When a whole month had passed
without Hansel becoming the least bit fatter, the old witch lost
patience and declared she would wait no longer. "Hurry, Gretel," she
said to the little girl, "fill the pot with water, for to-morrow, be
he lean or fat, Hansel shall be cooked for my dinner."
The tears chased each other down Gretel's cheeks as she carried in the
water, and she sobbed aloud in her grief. "Dear God," she cried, "we
have no one to help us but Thou. Alas! if only the wild beasts in the
wood had devoured us, at least we should have died together."
"Cease your chattering," cried the old witch angrily. "It will not
help you, so you may as well be still.
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