So the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grettel got nothing but crab-shells.  Every morning the old woman hobbled out to the stable and cried:  “Hansel, put out your finger, that I may feel if you are getting fat.”  But Hansel always stretched out a bone, and the old dame, whose eyes were dim, couldn’t see it, and thinking always it was Hansel’s finger, wondered why he fattened so slowly.  When four weeks had passed and Hansel still remained thin, she lost patience and determined to wait no longer.  “Hi, Grettel,” she called to the girl, “be quick and get some water.  Hansel may be fat or thin, I’m going to kill him to-morrow and cook him.”  Oh! how the poor little sister sobbed as she carried the water, and how the tears rolled down her cheeks!  “Kind heaven help us now!” she cried; “if only the wild beasts in the wood had eaten us, then at least we should have died together.”  “Just hold your peace,” said the old hag; “it won’t help you.”

Early in the morning Grettel had to go out and hang up the kettle full of water, and light the fire.  “First we’ll bake,” said the old dame; “I’ve heated the oven already and kneaded the dough.”  She pushed Grettel out to the oven, from which fiery flames were already issuing.  “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it’s properly heated, so that we can shove in the bread.”  For when she had got Grettel in she meant to close the oven and let the girl bake, that she might eat her up too.  But Grettel perceived her intention, and said:  “I don’t know how I’m to do it; how do I get in?” “You silly goose!” said the hag, “the opening is big enough; see, I could get in myself,” and she crawled toward it, and poked her head into the oven.  Then Grettel gave her a shove that sent her right in, shut the iron door, and drew the bolt.  Gracious! how she yelled, it was quite horrible; but Grettel fled, and the wretched old woman was left to perish miserably.

Grettel flew straight to Hansel, opened the little stable-door, and cried:  “Hansel, we are free; the old witch is dead.”  Then Hansel sprang like a bird out of a cage when the door is opened.  How they rejoiced, and fell on each other’s necks, and jumped for joy, and kissed one another!  And as they had no longer any cause for fear, they went in the old hag’s house, and here they found, in every corner of the room, boxes with pearls and precious stones.  “These are even better than pebbles,” said Hansel, and crammed his pockets full of them; and Grettel said:  “I too will bring something home,” and she filled her apron full.  “But now,” said Hansel, “let’s go and get well away from the witch’s wood.”  When they had wandered about for some hours they came to a big lake.  “We can’t get over,” said Hansel; “I see no bridge of any sort or kind.”  “Yes, and there’s no ferry-boat either,” answered Grettel; “but look, there swims a white duck; if I ask her she’ll help us over,” and she called out: 

  “Here are two children, mournful very,
  Seeing neither bridge nor ferry;
  Take us upon your white back,
  And row us over, quack, quack!”