The children were, however, still awake and had heard the conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hänsel again got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked the door, and Hänsel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, “Do not cry, Grethel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.”

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their beds. Their bit of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest Hänsel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. “Hänsel, why dost thou stop and look round?” said the father, “go on.”

“I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me,” answered Hänsel.

“Simpleton!” said the woman, “that is not thy little pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.” Hänsel, however, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path.