birthday, and shall die!" In a moment all was excitement. The jealous
old fairy rushed from the palace, but the people dashed after her.
"Drive the wicked witch from the kingdom! Burn every spindle in the
land!" they cried.

The twelfth fairy could not take away the bad wish, she could only
soften it. "The princess shall not die," she said, "but she shall fall
into a deep sleep that shall last for a hundred years."

The jealous old fairy was driven far, far away. The king ordered that
every spindle in the whole land be burned. Then every one was happy
once more, for now all thought that no harm could come near the little
Briar Rose.

Day by day the princess grew more gentle and more beautiful and all who
saw her loved her. Years flew by, the bad wish of the jealous old
fairy was forgotten. All the people thought that some day the little
princess would be their queen. She was a big girl now, almost a woman.
At last her fifteenth birthday came and, to amuse herself upon that
very morning, she went wandering about the old palace all alone. She
peeped into unused rooms; she took curious old treasures into her
hands; she walked through long halls; she ran up and down dark
corridors.

At last the princess reached the topmost tower of the great palace.
Here a flight of wooden steps led up to a little door that she had
never before seen. The door was close shut, but a rusty key stood in
the lock. She sprang upon the stairs. She turned the rusty key. The
door swung slowly open and the princess saw that, in a far corner of a
dimly lighted room, sat a little, bent old woman. She was spinning.