There once was a widow with two daughters, one pretty, kind-hearted, and industrious, the other ugly, mean, and slothful. But the widow favoured the ugly girl
more, because she was her own daughter, pampering and coddling the one child, whilst forcing the other to fetch and carry, wash and cook, spin and sew, until
her pretty face lay hidden beneath a mask of ash and grime.
Every day, fine or frosted, clear or cloudy, the widow sent the girl to a well by the roadside to do her spinning. The girl did as she was told, spinning until
her fingers bled.
Now, this particular day, the girl's spindle had grown red with blood. Taking it in both hands, she leant over the well to wash it clean. But the spindle
was slippery and the girl's fingers sore and tired, and the thing soon slid from her hands and into the water, fast-sinking to the very bottom of the well.
Fearing the wrath of her stepmother, the unhappy girl wept all the way home.
The stepmother was as cruel as such women usually are, berating the girl for her clumsiness, then declaring that: "since it was you who let the spindle
fall, it will be you who goes to fetch it."
And so the girl returned to the well, pacing and crying, until it began to seem that the most sensible thing was to jump in.
When she awoke, the girl found herself lying in a rich and verdant meadow, well-covered in small, star-like flowers.
The girl wandered about the meadow, soon discovering a large brick oven in the centre, scented with the warm and homey smell of baked bread. She stepped closer
and the bread called out: "Take me out, take me out, I'll burn! Take me out, take me out, I'm done, I'll burn!"
Instantly, the girl did as she was asked, wrapping her hands in her apron and lifting each loaf from the oven. She then continued on her way.
Soon, she came to an apple tree, its limbs laden with the ripest, reddest fruit. She stepped closer and the tree called out: "Shake me, shake me, my
apples are all ripe! Shake me, shake me, my apples are all sweet and ripe."
Instantly, the girl did as she was asked, shaking the tree, then piling the apples neatly by the trunk.
Finally, the girl came to a house; by the door stood an old woman with large, frightening teeth. At first, the girl backed away, but the old woman spoke kindly
to her: "Why do you back away, child? Come, stay with me and, if you work hard, you will be well rewarded. But you must remember to shake well the covers
of my bed and make the feathers fly about so that there will be snow upon the earth, for I am Mother Holle.
The woman's words and tone calmed the girl's fear, and she entered the small house with a glad heart. Every day she did the chores the old woman set,
and every day she made sure to shake well the covers of the bed, making the feathers dance and fall about. Her life, once miserable, was now comfortable and
happy: Mother Holle was always gentle and soft spoken, and every day there was meat upon the table, boiled or roasted.
But after a while, a certain melancholy settled upon the girl, and she found herself sickening for home. It seemed against reason, for she was happier with
Mother Holle than she had ever been before, but still she yearned for familiar sights and scents, perhaps even familiar faces.
"Well," said Mother Holle, "it is quite natural that you should want to go home, child, and I'm not angry at you for it. And, because you
have been such a good and loyal girl, I will show you the way myself." So, taking the girl by the hand, the old woman led her from the house and along
until they reached a tall gate. The gate swung open and the girl passed through it; as she did so, a shower of gold rained down upon her, the pieces sticking
to her hair, her frock, her toes. Handing her her spindle, Mother Holle said: "This is your reward for working so hard and so well." Then the gate
closed, and the girl found herself standing in bright sunlight, next to the well. When she came to her yard, a rooster began to crow: "Cock-a-doodle-do,
cock-a-doodle-do, golden girl's returned, she's quite well-to-do!"
Then the girl passed into the house, where her stepmother and sister fussed over her and her golden fortune.
When her stepmother learned how the girl had come into riches, she was determined that the same good fortune should come to her ugly, lazy daughter. And so,
handing the ugly girl a spindle, she sent her to the well to spin, telling her "to make sure the spindle is slick with blood". The girl, envying her
sister's luck, went to the well as told; there she pricked her fingers in the hedge and spattered the spindle with red. Then she tossed it into the well,
and herself after.
Like her sister, the ugly girl found herself lying in a rich and verdant meadow, well-covered in small, star-like flowers. Ignoring her surroundings, she set
out, determined to make her fortune.
Soon, she came to the oven and the bread called out: "Take me out, take me out, I'll burn! Take me out, take me out, I'm done, I'll
burn!"
"No," said the girl. "What if I burn myself? What if I dirty my dress?" And she passed the bread by.
Soon, she came to the apple tree, and the tree called out: "Shake me, shake me, my apples are all ripe! Shake me, shake me, my apples are all sweet and
ripe."
"No," said the girl. "What if an apple hits me on the head? What if your wood splinters in my hands?" And she passed the tree by.
Finally, the girl came to the house; she was unafraid, for she had already heard of Mother Holle's large and frightening teeth. So she entered the small
house and the old woman's service.
Come the first day, the girl tried hard, doing the chores the old woman set, and shaking well the covers of the bed, making the feathers dance and fall about.
Come the second day, she was tired, and she felt she deserved a little break. Come the third day, she remained in bed.
Soon, Mother Holle grew tired of the ugly girl and asked her to leave. "Oh, good," the girl thought to herself. "Now I shall get my
reward." And so she followed old woman from the house and along until they reached a tall gate. The gate swung open and the girl passed through it; as she
did so, a cauldron of darkest pitch emptied upon her head. "This is your reward for your work," said Mother Holle. Then the gate closed, and the girl
found herself standing in bright sunlight, next to the well. When she came to her yard, a rooster began to crow: "Cock-a-doodle-do, cock-a-doodle-do, this
girl's pitch black, she's ugly too!"
Then the girl passed into the house, where her mother fussed over her, but no amount of scrubbing and bathing would rid her of the pitch, and she left the
world even uglier than she had entered it.
