In a cozy little village, nestled beside a whispering river, lived a miller who sometimes stretched the truth like dough. One sunny afternoon, the King happened to pass by. Wanting to impress the King, the miller puffed out his chest and declared, "Your Majesty, my daughter is truly special! She can spin straw into pure, glittering gold!"

The King, whose eyes sparkled at the mere mention of gold, said, "Is that so? Well, bring her to my castle tomorrow. I'd like to see this amazing skill."

The next day, the miller's daughter, a kind girl named Lily, found herself in a room piled high with straw. A spinning wheel stood in the corner. "Spin all this straw into gold by morning," the King commanded, "or you'll be in big trouble!" Then he locked the door, leaving Lily all alone.

Lily burst into tears. "Spin straw into gold? That's impossible!" she wailed.

Suddenly, a tiny little man, no taller than her knee, with a pointy hat and twinkly eyes, popped into the room. "Good evening, miss," he chirped. "Why all the tears?"

"The King wants me to spin this straw into gold, and I don't know how!" she sobbed.

"Hmm," said the little man, stroking his chin. "What will you give me if I spin it for you?"

"My pretty necklace," Lily offered, taking it off.

The little man snatched the necklace, sat down at the spinning wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr! By morning, all the straw had turned into gleaming gold.

The King was overjoyed but also very greedy. He led Lily to an even bigger room filled with straw. "Do it again!" he ordered.

Poor Lily cried again, and again the little man appeared. "What will you give me this time?" he asked.

"My little silver ring," she said, slipping it from her finger.

The little man took the ring, and whirr, whirr, whirr! Soon, the room was filled with even more gold.

The King was ecstatic! But he still wasn't satisfied. He took Lily to the largest room yet, overflowing with straw. "Spin this into gold," he said, "and I shall make you my Queen!"

When the little man appeared for the third time, Lily cried, "I have nothing left to give you!"

The little man tapped his pointy shoe. "Then promise me," he said, his voice a little sly, "your first child when you become Queen."

Lily was terrified, but what could she do? She thought, "Perhaps he'll forget all about it." So, she promised. And whirr, whirr, whirr! The little man spun all the straw into mountains of gold.

The King kept his word and married Lily, and she became the Queen. A year later, a beautiful baby was born, and the Queen was happier than she had ever been. She had almost forgotten about the little man.

But one day, he appeared in her room! "I've come for what you promised," he said, grinning.

The Queen was horrified. She offered him all the riches in the kingdom. "No," said the little man. "Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world."

The Queen wept so bitterly that the little man felt a tiny bit of pity. "Alright," he said. "I'll give you three days. If you can guess my name within those three days, you can keep your child."

The Queen spent all night thinking of every name she had ever heard. She sent messengers far and wide to collect even more names.

On the first day, the little man came. The Queen guessed, "Is your name Caspar? Or Melchior? Or Balthazar?"
"No, no, no!" he chuckled. "That's not my name."

On the second day, she tried again. "Perhaps it's Ribs-of-Beef? Or Spindleshanks? Or Sheepshanks?"
"Wrong again!" he sang, dancing a little jig.

The Queen was desperate. But just before the third day, one of her messengers returned. "Your Majesty," he panted, "I couldn't find any new names, but as I passed a high mountain in the deep woods, I saw a tiny cottage. And around a crackling fire, a funny little man was hopping and singing:

'Tomorrow I brew, today I bake,
And then the Queen's child I will take;
Oh, lucky am I, and it's plain to see,
That Rumpelstiltskin is the name for me!'"

You can imagine how happy the Queen was to hear this!

When the little man arrived on the third day, he rubbed his hands together. "Well, Your Majesty, what is my name?"

The Queen pretended to think. "Is it... Conrad?"
"No!"
"Is it... Heinrich?"
"No!"
Then, with a smile, she said, "Could it perhaps be... Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The fairies told you! The fairies told you!" shrieked the little man. He was so angry that he stomped his right foot deep into the ground. Then he grabbed his left foot with both hands and pulled so hard that he tore himself in two!

And that was the end of the little man named Rumpelstiltskin. The Queen kept her baby, and they all lived happily, with no more worries about spinning straw into gold.

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