tiny white hands. In the morning, as
usual, her mother came in to weigh the
thread; and again it was over weight.

"You graceless witch!" she snorted,
"you complained of over-work, and it is
all too little for such a minx as you."

Away she went, banging the door, and
the maiden sat weeping and biting at a
hard loaf, too hard for her little teeth. In
the evening her mother came in three
times, each time dragging behind her a
very large bagful of flax.

"Now, mark you!" she said. "If all this
is spun and made into skeins by daybreak,
I give you no more work, and you may be
as idle as you like; but if you do not finish
this, I will kill you: that is my decision."

The maiden sat immovable till midnight,
"For," thought she, "either the fairies will
come and I shall be saved, or they will not
come any more, and I shall die." But
at midnight the faithful fairy came,
accompanied by two other fairies: just as if she
guessed that there were three bagfuls to
spin. First of all they made the poor girl's
bed comfortable, and then they each gave
her a kiss. She fell asleep; and when the
morning broke, the work was done.

It was Sunday morning; for the first
time, the poor girl was not scolded. Her
mother arrayed herself in her best clothes,
and said she was going to church.

"Pray take me too!" entreated the girl.
"I have not been to church for so long."

"Do you think I would take you dressed
in those rags?" answered her mother.

If the girl were in rags, it was the
mother's fault. But off she started in a
great hurry, because the church was three
miles off. The young girl, left as usual
to herself, knelt down to say her prayers,
when a familiar voice called out: "May I
come in?" And, to the girl's delight, in
walked the fairy.

"So you would like to go to church?"
she said. "And to church you shall go."

Saying those words, the fairy touched
the girl with her wand, and, as the rags
dropped off, the most magnificent clothes
took their place, and her face became so
much more lovely, that, pretty as she had
been before, no one would have known her.

"Go down-stairs, and you will find a
carriage," said the fairy; and disappeared.

Half bewildered by the events of the last
few days, the girl went down the creaking
stairs, and found at the door a fine carriage
with four horses and two coachmen. She
got in, and they, without asking any
questions, drove her to the church. It was a
little village church, and everybody around
was well known; so that the arrival of a
great princess created a great sensation,
and everybody looked at her during mass.
After the service she drove back; the
carriage and the fine clothes disappeared; and
she had hardly resumed her rags when the
mother walked in.

"Such a sight!" she exclaimed: "such
a grand sight. There was a great lady—
perhaps the queen—at church. Everybody
looked at her."

"Was she at all like me, mother?" asked
the girl.

"Like you indeed!" said the woman,
laughing most scornfully. "A good joke!
You, forsooth, like the handsomest lady in
the land, who wears silks and satins every
day! You, who are but a dirty slut, fit
only to stay at home and open the door!"

So the girl said nothing more. Next
Sunday she again begged to go to church,
and got the same answer as before; and
again, when her mother was gone, the
friendly fairy appeared. This time the
clothes with which she decked the maiden
were far more splendid than last time.
And her slippers were of pure gold. The
carriage was more splendid, the horses were
all white, and the coachmen were like
princes of the land. Everybody, in the
church and out of the church, stared at
the beautiful stranger. As she left the
church in a hurry, she was followed by a
crowd, her mother in the midst of it, to
see her get into her carriage. In her
hurry she ran on a few steps, and, in
getting into the carriage, dropped one of
her golden slippers. Her mother was sharp,
and seized this shoe before any one in the
crowd had perceived her movement; "for,"
thought she, "it must be made of real
gold, and I can sell it to-morrow. Is it, or
is it not, real gold?" she went on repeating
to herself, as she turned the slipper round
and round in her hands.

The girl hurried home as fast as her
beautiful horses could prance, and, before
her mother came in, she had already put
on her old clothes, and also had had a short
conversation with the fairy.

"Look at this," said the mother, holding
the slipper under her nose.

"Why that is my slipper, I declare!"
answered the daughter.

"I always thought you were rather
mad," answered the mother. "Your slipper,
indeed, you conceited ape! why you could
not put half your hand in it."

Then the maiden took the shoe, and put