MOTHER HOLLE
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anxious to secure the same luck for her own idle, ugly daughter; so she told her to sit at the well and spin. In order to make her spindle bloody, she stuck her hand into a hedge of thorns and pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well, and jumped in herself after it. Like her sister she came to the beautiful meadow,
and followed the same path. When she reached the baker’s oven the bread called out as before:
‘Oh! take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done enough.’
But the good-for-nothing girl answered:
‘A pretty joke, indeed; just as if I should dirty my hands for you!’
