Mother's Nursery Tales
Copyright© 2024 by Katharine Pyle
Mother Hulda
There was once a widow who had two daughters; the elder of the girls was cross and ugly, but the mother loved her dearly because she was exactly like herself, and also because she was her own daughter. The younger girl was only her stepdaughter, and because of this, and also because the girl was good and pretty the mother hated her, and did all she could to make her miserable.
One day the good daughter sat by the well spinning, and as she spun she wept because she was so unhappy. The tears blinded her eyes, and presently she pricked her finger, and a drop of blood fell on the flax. The girl was frightened, for she feared her stepmother would scold her when she saw the flax, so she stooped over the edge of the well to try to wash the blood off it. But the spindle slipped from her hand and sank down and down through the water until it was lost to sight.
That was worse than ever; the girl did not know what her stepmother would do to her when she heard the spindle had been lost down the well. Still she was obliged to confess.
The widow was indeed very angry.
“You good-for-nothing!” she cried. “You are the trouble of my life. Out of my sight, and do not dare to return until you can bring the spindle with you,” and she gave the girl a push so that she almost fell over.
The girl was so frightened and unhappy that she ran out of the door; without stopping to think, she jumped into the well. Down, down she sank, through the waters, just as the spindle had done, and when she reached the bottom she found herself in a broad green meadow with a road leading across it.
The girl followed the road, and presently she came to a baker’s oven that stood beside the way, and it was full of bread. The girl was about to pass by, but the loaves inside called to her, “Take us out! Take us out! If we are left in the oven any longer we will burn.”
She was surprised to hear the bread speak to her, but she opened the door and drew the loaves out, and set them neatly on end to cool. Then she went on.
A little farther, she came to an apple-tree. It was so loaded down with fruit that the branches bent with the weight of it.
“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My apples are ripe and my boughs are like to break with the weight of them.”
The girl shook the apple-tree till the apples fell about her in a shower. She piled the apples neatly about the tree and went on her way.
After awhile she came to a little house, and an ugly old woman with long yellow teeth was looking out of the window. The girl was frightened at the old woman’s looks, and was about to turn away, but the woman called to her, “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I need a serving-maid. Come in, and if you serve me faithfully I will reward you well.”
The girl did not feel afraid any longer. She opened the door and went in.
The old woman took her upstairs and showed her a great feather bed. “I am Mother Hulda,” said she. “It is I who send out the frost and snow over the world. Every day you must give my bed a good beating. Then, when the feathers fly, it snows upon the earth.”
The girl stayed with Mother Hulda many months. Every day she gave the bed such a good beating that the feathers flew, and there was much snow that year. Mother Hulda was very much pleased with her. She was kind to her, and the girl had all she wanted to eat, and that of the best, and a comfortable bed to sleep in; but all the same, by the time the winter was over she began to feel sad and dull. She longed to see her home and her mother and sister, too, even though they were unkind to her.
“Now I see it is time for you to go back to the earth again,” said Mother Hulda. “You have served me well and faithfully, and you shall be rewarded as I promised you.”
She then opened a closet door and brought out the girl’s spindle and gave it to her. After that she took the girl by the hand and led her out of the house and along a road to a great gate that stood open.
“There lies your way,” said Mother Hulda.
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