The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough. He had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course of this night. But if you succeed, you shall be my wife.” “Even if she be a miller’s daughter,” thought he, “I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.” When the girl was alone the Little Man came again for the third time, and said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time also?” “I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl. “Then promise me, if you should become Queen, your first child.” “Who knows whether that will ever happen?” thought the miller’s daughter. And, not knowing how else to help herself in this difficulty, she promised the Little Man what he wanted. And for that he once more span the straw into gold. And when the King came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage. And the pretty miller’s daughter became a Queen. A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought to the Little Man. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “Now give me what you promised.” The Queen was horror-struck, and offered the Little Man all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the Little Man said, “No, something that is alive, is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.” Then the Queen began to weep and cry, so that the Little Man pitied her. “I will give you three days’ time,” said he; “if by that time you find out my name, then you shall keep your child.” So the Queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names there might be. When the Little Man came the next day, she began with _Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar,_ and said all the names she knew, one after another. But to every one the Little Man said, “That is not my name.” On the second day, she had inquiries made in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there. And she repeated to the Little Man the most uncommon and curious, “Perhaps your name is _Shortribs_, or _Sheepshanks_, or _Laceleg_?” but he always answered, “That is not my name.” On the third day, the messenger came back again, and said, “I have not been able to find a single new name. But as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there I saw a little house. Before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire a funny Little Man was jumping. He hopped upon one leg, and shouted: “_To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake, And next, I shall the Queen’s child take! Ah! well it is, none knows the same-- That Rumpelstiltskin is my name!_”