that it looked as though blood had been sprinkled on the ground.
“Pick them at once, Maruša!” commanded June.
Maruša picked them joyfully till she had filled her apron full. Then she thanked the months with all her heart and scampered merrily home. Holena and the stepmother wondered when they saw Maruša bringing the strawberries. Her apron was full of them. They ran to open the door for her, and the scent of the strawberries filled the whole cottage.
“Where did you pick them?” asked Holena sulkily.
“There are plenty of them growing under the young beech-trees in the forest on the high mountains.”
Holena took the strawberries, and went on eating them till she could eat no more. So did the stepmother too, but they didn’t say to Maruša: “Here is one for you.”
When Holena had enjoyed the strawberries, she grew greedy for other dainties, and so on the third day she longed for some red apples.
“Maruša, go into the forest and get me some red apples,” she said to her sister.
‘Alas! sister dear, how am I to get apples for you in winter?” protested Maruša.
“You wretched little tatterdemalion, how dare you argue when I tell you to do a thing? Go to the forest at once, and if you don’t bring me the apples I will kill you I” threatened Holena.
The stepmother caught hold of Maruša and pushed her out of the door and shut it after her. Maruša went to the forest weeping bitterly. The snow was lying deep; there wasn’t a human foot print to be seen anywhere. But she didn’t wander about this time. She ran straight to the top of the mountain where the big fire was burning. The twelve months were sitting around the fire; yes there they certainly were, and Great January was sitting on the high seat.
“Please, kind sirs, let me warm my hands at the fire. I am trembling with cold.”
Great January nodded, and asked her: “Why have you come here, and what are you looking for?”
“I am looking for red apples.”
‘It is winter now, and red apples don’t grow in winter,” answered January. ‘
“Yes, I know,” said Maruša sadly; “but my sister and my stepmother, too, bade me bring them some red apples fro mthe forest. If I don’t bring them, they will kill me. Tell me, father, tell me, please, where I could find them.”
Great January rose up. He went over to one of the older months—it was September. He handed the club to him and said: “Brother, take the high seat.”
Month September took the high seat upon the stone and swung the club over the fire. The fire began to burn with a red flame, the snow began to melt. But the trees were not covered with leaves; the leaves were wavering down one after the other, and the cold wind was driving them to and fro over the yellowing ground. This time Maruša did not see so many flowers. Only red pinks were blooming on the hillside, and meadow saffrons were flowering in the valley. High fern and thick ivy were growing under the young beech-trees. But Maruša was only looking for red apples, and at last she saw an appletree with red apples hanging high among its branches.
“Shake the tree at once, Maruša!” commanded the month.
Right gladly Maruša shook the tree, and one apple fell down. She shook it a second time, and another apple fell down.
“Now, Maruša, run home quickly!” shouted the month.
Maruša obeyed at once. She picked up the apples, thanked the months with all her heart, and ran merrily home.
Holena and the stepmother wondered when they saw Maruša bringing the apples. They ran to open the door for her, and she gave them two apples.
“Where did you get them?” asked Holena.
“There are plenty of them in the forest on the high mountain.”
“And why didn’t you bring more? Or did you eat them on the way home?” said Holena harshly.
“Alas! sister dear, I didn’t eat a single one. But when I had shaken the tree once, one apple fell down, and when I shook it a second time, another apple fell down, and they wouldn’t let me shake it again. They shouted to me to go straight home,” protested Maruša.
Holena began to curse her: “May you be struck to death by lightning!” and she was going to beat her.
Maruša began to cry bitterly, and she prayed to God, to take her to Himself, or she would be killed by her wicked sister and her stepmother. She ran away into the kitchen.
Greedy Holena stopped cursing and began to eat the apple. It tasted so delicious she told her mother she had never tasted anything so nice in all her life. The stepmother liked it too. When they had finished, they wanted some more.
“Mother, give me my fur coat. I’ll go to the forest myself. That ragged little wretch would eat them all up again on her way home. I’ll find the place all right, and I’ll shake them all down, however they shout at me.”
Her mother tried to dissuade her, but it was no good. She took her fur coat, wrapped a cloth round her head, and off she went to the forest. Her mother stood on the threshold, watching to see how Holena would manage to walk in the wintry weather.
The snow lay deep, and there wasn’t a human footprint to be seen anywhere. Holena wandered about for a long time, but the desire of the sweet apple kept driving her on. At last she saw a light in the distance. She went towards it, and climbed to the top of the mountain where the big fire was burning, and round the fire on twelve stones the twelve months were sitting. She was terrified at first, but she soon recovered. She stepped up to the fire and stretched out her hands to warm them, but she didn’t say as much as “By your leave” to the
