Cinderella Short Story — Jacob Grimm Wilhelm Grimm

The wife of a rich man fell sick She called her daughter and said Dear child be good and pious The good God will always protect you After that she closed her eyes and died Every day the maiden went out to her mother s grave When the spring sun had drawn it off again the man had taken another wife

There was once a poor peasant He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire and his wife sat and spun Then How sad it is that we have no children With us all so Quiet and in other houses it is noisy and lively said he Yes replied the wife and sighed even if we had only one and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb I should be quite satisfied We would still love it with all our hearts

The wife of a rich man fell sick She called her daughter and said Dear child be good and pious The good God will always protect you After that she closed her eyes and died Every day the maiden went out to her mother s grave When the spring sun had drawn it off again the man had taken another wife

There was once a poor peasant He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire and his wife sat and spun Then How sad it is that we have no children With us all so Quiet and in other houses it is noisy and lively said he Yes replied the wife and sighed even if we had only one and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb I should be quite satisfied We would still love it with all our hearts

There was once a poor peasant He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire and his wife sat and spun Then How sad it is that we have no children With us all so Quiet and in other houses it is noisy and lively said he Yes replied the wife and sighed even if we had only one and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb I should be quite satisfied We would still love it with all our hearts

The wife of a rich man fell sick She called her daughter and said Dear child be good and pious The good God will always protect you After that she closed her eyes and died Every day the maiden went out to her mother s grave When the spring sun had drawn it off again the man had taken another wife

There was once a poor peasant He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire and his wife sat and spun Then How sad it is that we have no children With us all so Quiet and in other houses it is noisy and lively said he Yes replied the wife and sighed even if we had only one and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb I should be quite satisfied We would still love it with all our hearts

The wife of a rich man fell sick She called her daughter and said Dear child be good and pious The good God will always protect you After that she closed her eyes and died Every day the maiden went out to her mother s grave When the spring sun had drawn it off again the man had taken another wife

There was once a poor peasant He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire and his wife sat and spun Then How sad it is that we have no children With us all so Quiet and in other houses it is noisy and lively said he Yes replied the wife and sighed even if we had only one and it were quite small and only as big as a thumb I should be quite satisfied We would still love it with all our hearts