Rumpelstiltskin a personalised book with your child as the hero

Once upon a time there was a miller who was poor, but very proud. One day, as he stood by the road outside his mill, the king's carriage came rattling past and stopped. The miller wanted so much to seem important that, before he knew what he was saying, he called out, "Your Majesty, my daughter can spin straw into gold!"

Now the king loved gold more than anything in the world. "That is a talent I like very much," he said. "If your daughter is as clever as you say, bring her to the palace tomorrow, and we shall see."

The next morning the king led the miller's daughter up a winding stair to a tower room. It was heaped with straw from wall to wall, and in the middle stood a wooden spinning wheel and a little stool.

"Spin all of this into gold by morning," said the king. Then he went out, turned the big iron key in the lock, and left her alone.

The poor girl sat down on the stool. She did not know how to spin straw into gold. Nobody in the whole world knew how. She looked at the straw, and the straw looked back at her, and at last she began to cry.

Then, all of a sudden, the door creaked open, and in stepped a strange little man with a long beard and a pointed hat.

"Good evening, miller's girl," he said. "Why are you crying so?"

"I am supposed to spin all this straw into gold," she sobbed, "and I don't know how."

"What will you give me," asked the little man, "if I spin it for you?"

"My necklace," said the girl, and she held out her little string of beads.

The little man took the necklace, sat down at the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the bobbin was full of shining gold thread. He put on another, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the second was full too. And so he went on all night long, until every last straw was spun and the whole room glittered with gold.

At sunrise the king unlocked the door. When he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but it only made him want more. That evening he took the miller's daughter to a bigger room, heaped even higher with straw, and told her to spin it all by morning.

Again the girl sat down and cried, and again the door creaked open and the little man stepped in.

"What will you give me this time," he asked, "if I spin it for you?"

"The ring from my finger," said the girl. The little man took the ring, sat down at the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, by morning the straw was gold.

The king was more delighted than ever, but still he wanted more. On the third evening he took the girl to the biggest room of all, with straw piled almost to the ceiling. "Spin this too," he said, "and I will give you and your father a home here at the palace for as long as you live."

When she was alone, the little man came for the third time. "What will you give me now?" he asked.

"I have nothing left to give," said the girl.

The little man looked at the little white lamb who had followed her all the way from the mill and was standing close at her side. "Then promise me your lamb," he said.

The girl did not know what else to do. So she promised, and the little man spun the biggest room of all into gold.

In the morning the king kept his word. The miller's daughter and her father came to live at the palace, and the miller beamed with pride from morning till night. The girl had fine new clothes and a sunny room of her own, and her lamb trotted after her wherever she went. As the days went by, she quite forgot about the little man.

But one day, there he was, standing in her room. "Now give me what you promised," he said.

The girl was frightened. She opened a chest full of the palace's jewels and pushed it towards him. "Take all of this," she begged, "but please let me keep my lamb."

"No," said the little man. "Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world."

Then the girl cried so bitterly that the little man felt a little sorry for her. "Very well," he said. "I will give you three days. If by then you can guess my name, you may keep your lamb."

The girl sat up all night thinking of every name she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger out across the land to gather more. When the little man came the next day, she began: "Is your name Caspar? Melchior? Balthazar?" She read out every name on the messenger's long scroll, but at each one the little man laughed, "That is not my name!"

On the second day she tried the strangest names anyone could find. "Is your name Ribs-of-Beef? Or Sheepshanks? Or Laceleg?" But he only laughed, "That is not my name!"

On the third day the messenger came hurrying back. "I could not find a single new name," he said, "but as I came over a high hill at the edge of the forest, where the fox and the hare say goodnight to each other, I saw a tiny house. A fire was burning in front of it, and round the fire a ridiculous little man was hopping on one leg and singing:

*Today I bake, tomorrow I brew,* *the next day the little lamb comes home too.* *How glad I am that no one can claim* *that Rumpelstiltskin is my name!*"

How happy the girl was when she heard that!

Soon afterwards the little man came in. "Well, miller's girl," he said, "what is my name?"

"Is your name Conrad?" she asked.

"No."

"Is your name Harry?"

"No."

"Then perhaps," she said with a smile, "your name is Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Somebody told you! Somebody told you!" shrieked the little man, and he stamped his right foot so hard that it went straight through the floorboards. He tugged and he pulled until it came free, and then he jumped onto a big cooking ladle and flew out of the window in a terrible temper. And nobody ever saw him again.

The little lamb jumped for joy, and the miller's daughter waved goodbye at the window. From that day on they lived happily at the palace together, and nobody ever again asked anyone to spin straw into gold.