There was once upon a time a poor miller who had a very beautiful
daughter. Now it happened one day that he had an audience with the King,
and in order to appear a person of some importance he told him that
he had a daughter who could spin straw into gold. “Now that’s a talent
worth having,” said the King to the miller; “if your daughter is as
clever as you say, bring her to my palace to-morrow, and I’ll put her to
the test.” When the girl was brought to him he led her into a room full
of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and spindle, and said: “Now set to
work and spin all night till early dawn, and if by that time you haven’t
spun the straw into gold you shall die.” Then he closed the door behind
him and left her alone inside.

The Miller's Daughter by Anne Anderson

So the poor miller’s daughter sat down, and didn’t know what in the
world she was to do. She hadn’t the least idea of how to spin straw into
gold, and became at last so miserable that she began to cry.
Suddenly the door opened, and in stepped a tiny little man and said:
“Good-evening, Miss Miller-maid; why are you crying so bitterly?” “Oh!”
answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and haven’t a notion
how it’s done.” “What will you give me if I spin it for you?” asked
the manikin. “My necklace,” replied the girl. The little man took the
necklace, sat himself down at the wheel, and whir, whir, whir, the wheel
went round three times, and the bobbin was full. Then he put on another,
and whir, whir, whir, the wheel went round three times, and the second
too was full; and so it went on till the morning, when all the straw
was spun away, and all the bobbins were full of gold. As soon as the sun
rose the King came, and when he perceived the gold he was astonished and
delighted, but his heart only lusted more than ever after the precious
metal. He had the miller’s daughter put into another room full of straw,
much bigger than the first, and bade her, if she valued her life, spin
it all into gold before the following morning. The girl didn’t know what
to do, and began to cry; then the door opened as before, and the tiny
little man appeared and said: “What’ll you give me if I spin the straw
into gold for you?” “The ring from my finger,” answered the girl. The
manikin took the ring, and whir! round went the spinning-wheel again,
and when morning broke he had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
The King was pleased beyond measure at the sights but his greed for gold
was still not satisfied, and he had the miller’s daughter brought into a
yet bigger room full of straw, and said: “You must spin all this away
in the night; but if you succeed this time you shall become my wife.”
“She’s only a miller’s daughter, it’s true,” he thought; “but I couldn’t
find a richer wife if I were to search the whole world over.” When the
girl was alone the little man appeared for the third time, and said:
“What’ll you give me if I spin the straw for you once again?” “I’ve
nothing more to give,” answered the girl. “Then promise me when you
are Queen to give me your first child.” “Who knows what may not happen
before that?” thought the miller’s daughter; and besides, she saw no
other way out of it, so she promised the manikin what he demanded, and
he set to work once more and spun the straw into gold. When the
King came in the morning, and found everything as he had desired, he
straightway made her his wife, and the miller’s daughter became a queen.

When a year had passed a beautiful son was born to her, and she thought
no more of the little man, till all of a sudden one day he stepped into
her room and said: “Now give me what you promised.” The Queen was in a
great state, and offered the little man all the riches in her kingdom if
he would only leave her the child. But the manikin said: “No, a living
creature is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.” Then the
Queen began to cry and sob so bitterly that the little man was sorry for
her, and said: “I’ll give you three days to guess my name, and if you
find it out in that time you may keep your child.”

Then the Queen pondered the whole night over all the names she had ever
heard, and sent a messenger to scour the land, and to pick up far and
near any names he could come across. When the little man arrived on the
following day she began with Kasper, Melchior, Belshazzar, and all the
other names she knew, in a string, but at each one the manikin called
out: “That’s not my name.” The next day she sent to inquire the names
of all the people in the neighborhood, and had a long list of the
most uncommon and extraordinary for the little man when he made
his appearance. “Is your name, perhaps, Sheepshanks Cruickshanks,
Spindleshanks?” but he always replied: “That’s not my name.” On the
third day the messenger returned and announced: “I have not been able to
find any new names, but as I came upon a high hill round the corner of
the wood, where the foxes and hares bid each other good-night, I saw
a little house, and in front of the house burned a fire, and round
the fire sprang the most grotesque little man, hopping on one leg and
crying:

“To-morrow I brew, to-day I bake,
And then the child away I’ll take;
For little deems my royal dame
That Rumpelstiltzkin is my name!”

You can imagine the Queen’s delight at hearing the name, and when the
little man stepped in shortly afterward and asked: “Now, my lady Queen,
what’s my name?” she asked first: “Is your name Conrad?” “No.” “Is your
name Harry?” “No.” “Is your name perhaps, Rumpelstiltzkin?” “Some demon
has told you that! some demon has told you that!” screamed the little
man, and in his rage drove his right foot so far into the ground that it
sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with
both hands and tore himself in two.(1)

(1) Grimm.