He was a very popular King. Because he felt he had plenty of money, he didn’t bother to collect any taxes and he threw his money about, literally. He would go for a drive in his carriage every morning and throw a few handfuls of gold coins to the left and to the right to the people who lined his route and he waved to them as they scrambled for the money on all fours.
It was great fun to be so rich.
But one morning, he went to his treasury to get out some more gold. He was going for his ride in the park and needed money to throw out of his carriage windows. People would be most upset if he went past without throwing money as usual.
He went first to the smaller room and looked in. Empty! All the gold had gone. He tried the bigger room. Same story! Feeling a bit annoyed, he opened the huge room and all he could find was one gold coin that had got stuck in a crack in the floorboards and a bale of straw in the corner which, somehow or other, hadn’t been changed into gold.
“Oh well,” he said. “I suppose I better get some more straw in and get the Queen to change it into gold.”
Being a practical person in spite of his carelessness over money, he called in at the local Seed and Corn Merchants and ordered several loads of straw to be delivered to the palace.
Then he went looking for the Queen.
The Queen was in her parlour eating, not just bread and honey, but an enormous breakfast. Six fried eggs, slices and slices of yummy toast and lots and lots of sausages, battled for space on her breakfast platter with nicely done tomatoes, mushrooms and crisp rashers of bacon. A steaming coffee pot stood close by filling the air with a delicious aroma.
The Queen, of course, had put on a lot of weight, but she didn’t care. She was happy.
She had just finished her breakfast and was about to go to work on a gigantic box of chocolates, when the King came in.
“What do YOU want?” she said gruffly, annoyed at being interrupted in her most favourite of occupations – popping chocolates into her mouth. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, you could spin some straw into gold,” he said, trying to help himself to a chocolate, before she snatched them out of his way.
“What?” she said sharply.
“Can’t you just spin a little bit?”
“Spin?” she said.
“Yes,” said the king.
“SPIN?” she said in a threatening way. “SPIN?” She got up and towered above him. He was only a very short King.
“Yes,” he said. “I need the money and I’ve ordered the straw.”
“Well you can just go and cancel it again,” she said. “Queens don’t do any spinning.”
“You used to.”
“That was twenty years ago,” she said angrily, her treble chins wobbling with rage. “I’m QUEEN now. Queens don’t do any spinning. Get a kitchen maid to do it.”
“That’s what you were before I married you,” said the King.
The Queen picked up the gigantic box of chocolates and threw it at the King so hard that the contents scattered in all directions. Some of the chocolates with soft centres left gooey messes on the walls and on the door and some stuck to the ceiling.
“How dare you talk to me like that. Get out!” she shouted.
She started throwing anything she could lay her hands on at the King. Candlesticks, framed photographs, shepherdesses made out of porcelain, vases, flower pots...
The King managed to escape with only superficial cuts and bruises, but he did manage to pick up a couple of chocolates from the gigantic box that the Queen had thrown at him and pop them into his mouth. This made the Queen even more furious and she redoubled her efforts to cause him a serious injury, but the King had made good his escape.
The King was sitting in his counting house with his head in his hands, when a footman brought him a card.
“What’s this?” said the King wearily.
“There’s a person to see you, your Majesty,” said the footman.
Being called, ‘Your Majesty’ cheered him up tremendously. After all he was the King.
He turned the card over - he had been looking at the blank side. The inscription on the card read:
RUMPELSTILTSKIN & SUPERMAN INC.
All impossible tasks undertaken
Consult us now and make your problems
Disappear...
“Show them in,” he said graciously.
“There’s only one, Your Majesty,” said the footman.
“Oh is there?” said the King. “Wheel him in then, wheel him in.”
In came in the ugliest person the King had ever come across. A dwarf with a wooden leg - so horrible looking that he would have made the Phantom of the Opera or the Hunchback of Notre Dame look like Rudolf Valentino.
The King looked at the card again and then at the one-legged dwarf and said, “Which one are you?”
“What?” said the dwarf.
“Are you Superman or are you Rumpelstiltskin?” said the King patiently.
“Oh I see,” said the dwarf. “I’m Rumpelstiltskin. Superman used to be my partner, but we split up. Slight difference of opinion, but I kept the old visiting cards. Waste not, want not, if you know what I mean?”
“Quite,” said the King. He looked at the card again and then tapped it with a finger. “It says here you undertake impossible tasks?”
“That’s right,” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“Right,” said the King. “Can you spin straw into gold?”
“No problem,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Got any straw?”
“I’ve got a bit,” said the King. “But I’ve put in an order for a load and that should be arriving in a day or two.”
“Well,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “I could get on with what you’ve got. There’s nothing like the present and a journey of a hundred miles begins with the first step.”
“Quite so,” said the King and he led Rumpelstiltskin to the largest of the three chambers, which still had that one bale of straw in it.
*
Next morning the King stood outside the largest of the three chambers and knocked on the door. “Rumpelstiltskin?” he called. “Are you there?”
“Ye-es,” came the reply.
The door opened and Rumpelstiltskin handed the King three gold coins.
“What’s this?” he said.
“Gold,” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“Three gold pieces?” said the King.
“Yes,” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“Is that all?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But there was a whole bale of straw,” the King wailed.
“So?” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“Twenty years ago, I would have got three large bags of gold out of a bale of straw.”
“That was twenty years ago,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “That’s inflation for you. You need a good few bales of straw to make one bag of gold coins, let alone three, nowadays.”
“Oh well,” said the King. “I’ll have to order much more straw then.”
“Right,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Let me know when it arrives and I’ll get busy then, but in the meantime there’s another little matter we have to discuss.”
“Oh, is there?” said the King, “What?”
“My fee.”
“Your fee?”
“Yes,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “You don’t expect me to work for nothing?”
“Work for nothing?” said the King, taken aback a little. “Oh I see... no of course not... no I can’t expect you to work for nothing... what do you want?”
“Your daughter,” he said. “I want to marry your daughter.”
“What,” cried the King. “Out of the question!”
“Take it or leave it,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “No daughter, no gold.”
“Really,” said the King. “Have you seen my daughter?”
“Yes, she is very beautiful.”
“Exactly,” said the King. “And have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“What’s
that got to do with it?” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Well, I’m not going to stand here and argue about it. As I said - no daughter - no gold. It’s up to you.”
“Can I think about it?” said the King. “And I’d better talk to the wife.”
“Yes,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Do that. You can have three days to make up your mind.”
He limped off and the King went back to the Queen’s chamber and knocked on the door.
“Who’s that?”
“It’s me,” said the King.
“Well you can take yourself off,” yelled the Queen. “The answer’s still ‘No!’”
“It’s all right,” said the King. “You don’t have to do any spinning. It’s something else altogether.”
“What then?” yelled the Queen through the still closed door.
“Somebody wants to marry our daughter,” the King called out.
The Queen opened the door. “That’s different, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
She had a fresh box of chocolates in her hand and was popping the chocolates in her mouth one after the other.
“Have a chocolate,” she said, offering the King one. “Who is this person who wants to marry our daughter?”
“He’s a stranger.”
“A visiting prince?”
“Not exactly,” said the King. “But I suppose you could call him a prince. A merchant prince.”
“A merchant prince! What may that be?”
“One that makes plenty of money. That would come in useful.”
“Money,” said the Queen. “We don’t need any money. We’ve got plenty of money.”
“No we haven’t,” said the King. “That’s why I wanted you to spin some straw into gold.”
“We’re back to that again, are we?” said the Queen. “What’s the princeling’s name?”
“Oh, he’s got a funny name.”
“Well?”
“Rumpelstiltskin,” said the King.
“Rumpel... stilts... Rump... Rump...” yelled the Queen. “No... no... no... not Rumpelstiltskin.” She fell down in a dead faint with a gigantic crash that sent shock waves through the whole of the palace.
They threw buckets of water over her and when she came to she was attacked by a terrible bout of hiccupping that nothing could cure.
So the King was left to make his own mind up about their beautiful daughter and Rumpelstiltskin.
*
Three days later, on the dot, Rumpelstiltskin called on the King.
“Well?” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“How about a quarter of my kingdom?” said the King.
“No,” said Rumpelstiltskin.
“Half?”
“Nothing doing.”
“I could make you an Earl.”
“No thanks.”
“A Duke then?”
But Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “I’ll be off then,” and started stumping out of the Palace.
“Wait... wait... wait.” the King moaned.
Rumpelstiltskin stopped and half-turned. “Yes?”
“How about if you marry one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber?”
Rumpelstiltskin turned and made for the door again.
“All right, all right,” wailed the King. “You can marry my daughter. I need the money. I’m broke. I’ve been a fool.”
“A fool and his money are soon parted,” said Rumpelstiltskin.
*
Well, the King’s daughter and Rumpelstiltskin got married - the beautiful Princess and the ugly, one-legged much older dwarf. Strangely enough, they lived happily ever after.
What about the King? Did he ever get his gold? The answer is no, he didn’t. Rumpelstiltskin double-crossed him, but for the good of the kingdom.
The people began to see what a show-off the King had been. By throwing his money about and not collecting any taxes, he had made everyone in the kingdom lazy and dissatisfied.
As soon as it became known how broke he was, the people turned against him and deposed him. He left the palace and moved in with the old Miller.
Rumpelstiltskin became King and the beautiful Princess his Queen. He didn’t need to spin straw into gold. He was a clever businessman and got everyone off their backsides and beavering away. In no time the country was booming and everyone got rich.
And what about the old Queen? Nobody was able to cure her hiccups. They tried jumping out and startling her. Didn’t work. They tried turning her upside down (that needed three strong men) and making her drink a glass of water while standing on her head (with four men holding her legs - two to a leg.) Didn’t work. They tried acupuncture and the Alexander technique. They tried homeopathic concoctions, they tried ancient incantations, they consulted healers and mystics and venerable fakirs who normally spend all their time lying about on beds of nails. Nothing worked. She continued to hiccup.
Rumpelstiltskin, now the King and the beautiful Princess, now the Queen, had children at regular intervals, year after year after year. There were endless celebrations and parties. The Queen Mother was there and hiccupped throughout the festivities, unable to eat.
As a result, she achieved her life’s ambition, which was to lose weight so she could wear all the beautiful designer gowns she had ordered shortly after her marriage to the old King.
She had been too fond of the good life and, although she had the best of intentions, she never had the willpower. But now they all fitted her again.
And so, as Rumpelstiltskin pointed out, the hiccupping proved a blessing in disguise.
Timing
by Pat Cochrane
The inspiration for the opening of this story came from a relative telling me the correct timing for soft-boiled eggs.
Watching the water, Ann thought that generations of Lawrence women had prepared boiled eggs in this exact way Edward had instructed her on their honeymoon.
“My mother’s eggs were always done to perfection and she had been taught by her husband’s mother, so we shall have no reason to do otherwise.”
Thoughts of her honeymoon and falling back through history prompted visions of the lift shaft, so Ann focused on the water forming small bubbles. Now the timing could begin.
The eggs cooked, Ann carried them to the dining room where Edward waited with expectant patience.
“Thank you, darling.” he smiled. “You are looking most attractive this morning. You suit that dress very well.”
Ann knew Edward’s compliment to be self-congratulatory. After the death of his mother, ‘a woman of impeccable taste,’ he’d carefully sorted through her clothes, the best of which he’d selected for Ann. He insisted he knew what suited her, her size and body shape and he always accompanied her on shopping trips. He liked to flatter himself that he had inherited his mother’s eye for detail and quality.
Ann opened her napkin, laid it on her lap and spread butter on her toast. She did not like eggs. “What news today, Edward?” She was skilled at deflecting her husband’s attention away from herself. And she knew this suited Edward’s requirements, that a wife should be modest and passive at all times.
Edward sliced the top from his egg with the precision of an executioner. “Well, the Prime Minister agrees with the Foreign Secretary that we cannot allow Hitler to have a free hand in Europe. The markets are distinctly nervous. Stable at the moment, but I’m sure it is only a matter of time.” Carefully, he balanced a spoonful of egg before taking it neatly towards his mouth and chewing with relish.
Ann averted her eyes, preferring not to witness Edward’s appetites. “Will it matter to Lawrence and Partners?”
Smiling, Edward inclined his head towards the tea things. “We at the insurance end will of course feel the effects, but not too badly and as you know I am rather well set up for any eventuality. Thanks both to my parents’ money and my position as senior partner at the company.”
Ann poured tea from the beautiful Victorian teapot that had been a wedding present given by her mother- in- law and which, p
rivately, Ann thought looked incongruous in such a modern setting. “But I do worry. You know I think we should sell this apartment. It is worth rather a lot of money and we could move; go inland where there are trees and birdsong rather than the constant screech of seagulls. Buy gold. Gold always retains its value, whatever happens on the world markets. You taught me that.”
Edward laughed and laying his hand, with what she imagined he thought to be comforting reassurance on her arm, cautioned; “Now Ann we have discussed this many times, too many. I have invested wisely and you have absolutely no reason to worry. Whatever happens, you and I have a lifetime of comfort and security ahead of us. You must trust my judgement, my dear.”
Ann sighed. “I do Edward, I do, but you know how I hate this apartment. Everywhere I look is sea, sea, sky and harsh relentless light.”
Her husband wiped his mouth meticulously with his napkin before lifting the teacup to his lips. Ann waited. She knew he was annoyed with her for introducing, yet again, the idea of moving from Marine Court, the tallest apartment block in the country and an icon to Art Deco architecture.
“You know I love this apartment and have no intention of moving, Ann.”
Ann was well aware he considered the modern apartment a tribute to a man of his position and an indication of not only how cultured and abreast he was of modern thinking, but also perfect for the rare occasions when he would decide it was appropriate for certain colleagues or business associates and their wives to come for dinner. He was proud of his wife’s skill as a cook and as equally jealous of sharing her company with others. Ann hated cooking and hated how the presence of guests increased Edward’s pompousness and self-satisfaction.
She took a deep breath. “I would love a house with a garden and trees that give shade, somewhere I could grow flowers for the house.” Enthusiasm added vigour to her voice. “It would give me something to occupy my time and you love fresh flowers.”
Edward’s complexion darkened as he cleared his throat. “Fresh flowers we can buy at any time. You can see green in Warrior Square Gardens, a pleasant enough place to walk and sit. Many women would envy you.”
Ann monitored the mood of her husband as he settled his teacup back onto its saucer with an irritated clatter.
“No money worries, someone to help with the cleaning, books to read and music to listen to. Should we want to dine out we have a choice of three restaurants without even needing to leave the Court.” He screwed his napkin into a tight ball. “Not to mention a husband who comes home each day early enough to spend the evenings with you, instead of going to his club like other husbands.” He carefully folded the abused napkin, using his broad thumb to press home the creases.
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