“Let us dance together,” she said. She smiled at Betushka, put her arm about her, and as the music above their heads began to play, they whirled round and round with flying feet. Again Betushka forgot the spindle and the goats. Again she saw nothing but the beautiful maiden whose body was lithe as a willow shoot. Again she heard nothing but the enchanting music to which her feet danced of themselves.
They danced from noon till sundown. Then the maiden paused and the music ceased. Betushka looked around. The sun was already set behind the woods. She clasped her hands to her head and looking down at the unfilled spindle she burst into tears.
“Oh, what will my mother say?” she cried.
“Give me your little basket,” the maiden said, “and I will put something in it that will more than make up for today’s stint.”
Betushka handed her the basket and the maiden took it and vanished. In a moment she was back. She returned the basket and said:
“Look not inside until you’re home!
Look not inside until you’re home!”
As she said these words she was gone as if a wind had blown her away.
