Whir! whir! went the wheel. Faster and faster it whirled.

In the morning the straw had all been turned into finest gold.

When the king opened the door, how his eyes glistened at the sight of
the gold! Still, it only made him greedy for more, so taking the poor
girl by the hand, he led her to a much larger chamber.

This was so full of straw that there was hardly room for her to sit at
the spinning wheel.

Turning to the maiden, the king said:

"There is your spinning wheel, and here is the straw. If you do not spin
all of it into gold by morning, your head shall be cut off. But if you
do spin the gold, I will marry you and make you my queen."

"For," thought the king, "though she is only a miller's daughter, yet
she can make me the richest king in the world."

Hardly had the door closed behind the king, when the little old man came
hopping and skipping into the room.

Taking off his pointed cap, he said to the girl, "What will you give me
if I will again spin this straw for you?"

"Ah!" said the maiden, "I have nothing more to give."

"Then you must make me a promise," said the little man. "You must
promise to give me your first child, after you have become queen."