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Gretel was a clever and lively maid who worked for a kind master. She loved good food and wine, and she always made sure to look her best, wearing neat shoes and a clean white apron. One day, her master told her that he was expecting a guest for dinner. He handed her two fine fat chickens and said she should roast them carefully, as his friend would arrive soon. Gretel was excited because she loved to cook, and she took great pride in making food delicious and golden brown.
She plucked the chickens, cleaned them, and put them on the spit. As they turned over the fire, the smell filled the kitchen, and Gretel’s mouth began to water. She said to herself that it was a shame to cook such wonderful chickens and not taste a bit, just to make sure they were seasoned right. She poured herself a little wine, just a small sip, to keep her spirits up while working. But the wine was so good, she thought another sip wouldn’t hurt. Soon, one sip became two, and two became three, until her cheeks glowed and she felt quite cheerful.
The chickens were roasting perfectly, their skin golden and crisp. Gretel turned the spit and basted them with butter, humming a happy tune. But then she thought, “If only the master’s friend doesn’t come soon, these chickens will be overcooked.” She looked out the window again and again, but no one was in sight. The smell grew stronger, and her stomach rumbled. She said softly to herself, “One of the wings looks like it’s burning. I’d better taste it, just to be sure it’s still good.” She picked off a wing and tasted it—it was delicious, so tender and juicy that she couldn’t help smiling. Then she thought, “The other wing might burn too. It wouldn’t be right to serve the master a spoiled piece.” So she ate the other wing as well.
By now, she was feeling quite warm from the wine and the food. Still, the master’s friend didn’t arrive. Gretel began to grow impatient. “It would be such a pity,” she said, “if the chickens got cold. The master himself might be late too, and then everything would be spoiled.” So she took her knife and cut off a small bit from one chicken’s breast. It melted in her mouth. “This is the best chicken I’ve ever made,” she said proudly. Then she tasted a small piece of the other one to compare. “Yes, this one is even better,” she said, taking another bite, and another, until she realized half of one chicken was gone.
Just then, her master came into the kitchen. He said cheerfully, “Gretel, is dinner ready?” Gretel jumped and quickly covered what was left of the chickens. “Yes, master,” she said, “they’re nearly done. You just sit down and wait for your guest.” The master said, “Very well, I’ll go fetch him myself.” Gretel nodded and thought, “Oh dear, now I’m in trouble. If the guest comes, there’s only one and a half chickens left. What am I going to do?”
As soon as her master left, Gretel poured herself another glass of wine and began to pace. “If only I could think of something,” she said. Then, as she looked at the chickens, she sighed. “One and a half chickens… that will never look right on a platter. I suppose I must eat the rest of this one so at least the other looks whole.” She sat down and ate the rest of the first chicken until only bones were left. Then she wiped her mouth and said, “Ah, that was fine! But now there’s only one left. If the guest comes, he’ll want one for himself. My master will be angry if he doesn’t get one too. Perhaps it’s best if I eat this one as well, and then I can say something happened to them.”
So Gretel finished the second chicken, licking her fingers clean. When she was done, she looked around and realized there was no trace of food left except the smell. She began to panic. “What shall I do now?” she cried. At that very moment, she heard footsteps coming. The master’s friend was arriving. Quickly, she ran to the door and whispered to the guest, “Go away, quickly! My master wants to harm you!” The man was startled. “What?” he said. “Yes,” Gretel whispered urgently, “he invited you only to cut off your ears. I heard him sharpening the knife. If you value your life, run while you can!”
The man was terrified. Without another word, he turned and ran down the road as fast as he could. Then Gretel hurried back inside. A moment later, her master came home, surprised to find no guest. “Where’s my friend?” he asked. Gretel looked worried. “Oh, master,” she said, “it’s terrible! Your friend came, but as soon as I brought out the chickens, he snatched them up and ran away shouting, ‘You won’t get me this time!’ He was gone before I could stop him.” The master was shocked. “What? My friend ran off with the chickens?” Gretel nodded sadly. “Indeed, sir. He must have had too much wine on his way here.”
The master was furious and shouted, “That ungrateful man! To steal my dinner!” He grabbed his knife and ran out the door, yelling, “Wait till I catch you!” Meanwhile, Gretel stood at the door laughing to herself. “That was clever,” she said softly. “Both chickens eaten, and no one to blame but the poor guest.”
The master ran a long way down the road, shouting after his friend, “Stop, stop! I only wanted to share dinner with you!” But the man thought he was being chased to have his ears cut off and ran even faster. He dropped his hat, his coat, and his walking stick as he fled. The master grew tired and stopped, panting, confused by what had happened. “Why would he run like that?” he muttered. “Surely he must have misunderstood me.” Then, shrugging, he trudged back home.
When he arrived, Gretel was standing by the door, pretending to be very upset. “Oh master,” she said, “what a shame! Your beautiful chickens, both gone! And after all the trouble I took roasting them.” The master sighed deeply. “Never mind, Gretel. At least we’re safe and sound. But I cannot believe my friend would behave so strangely.” Gretel nodded, pretending to agree, though inside she was giggling.
Later that evening, when her master went to bed, Gretel sat by the kitchen fire and patted her full stomach. “Ah,” she said with a satisfied smile, “it was a fine feast indeed. I should thank the master’s friend for saving me the trouble of serving dinner.” She laughed softly to herself, thinking how clever she had been to get away with everything.
The next day, her master went to visit his friend to ask why he had run away. But when he arrived, the man slammed the door in his face, shouting, “Keep away from me! I’ll never dine with you again. I know what you planned!” The master was left standing there bewildered, wondering what madness had come over his old friend. He returned home shaking his head. Gretel greeted him sweetly and asked, “Did your friend come to his senses?” The master sighed, “No, he’s completely lost his wits. He accused me of wanting to harm him. What nonsense!”
Gretel nodded seriously. “Perhaps he had too much to drink last night,” she said. “Wine can make people say foolish things.” The master agreed, though he still felt puzzled. But Gretel smiled inwardly, proud of her quick thinking and how neatly everything had turned out.
From that day on, Gretel continued to serve her master faithfully. Yet whenever she roasted chickens or prepared fine dishes, she made sure to taste a little more than she should. And she always told herself with a grin, “A clever cook deserves her share.” Her master never suspected how many fine meals Gretel enjoyed when he wasn’t looking.
Years later, when people in the village spoke of her, they laughed and said, “That Gretel is a clever one indeed! No one can fool her.” And she always smiled when she heard it, knowing that her wit and quick tongue had saved her many times. Even though she was just a maid, she had outsmarted both her master and his guest in one evening and turned a simple dinner into her own secret feast.
And so, Clever Gretel went on living happily, cooking delicious meals, sipping her wine, and never missing a chance to outsmart anyone who underestimated her.