The Twelve Months
The Twelve Months
An Oral Re-telling of a Bohemian Fairy Story
by
R. T. Wyche
In the Bohemian land there lived a woman, who had one daughter named Katinka, and a stepdaughter named Dobrunka. The woman, naturally, loved her own daughter more than she did her stepdaughter, but her own child was not as fair nor had she as pleasing a disposition as had the stepdaughter Dobrunka.
This displeased the woman so that she made Dobrunka, the stepdaughter, do all the housework, the cooking and the churning, whereas, her own daughter, Katinka, she dressed in fine clothes and let her live in idleness. And more than that—she frequently allowed Katinka to order Dobrunka around the house as if she were a servant. Dobrunka was always pleasing in countenance and in spirit, and the work she did made her strong and wholesome, whereas the idleness in which Katinka lived made her very disagreeable.
One day, Katinka came to Dobrunka, and said: “Dobrunka, I want some violets; go out into the fields or the forest and find me some.”
Dobrunka said, “Why Katinka, that is a strange request. This is not the time for violets; it is mid-winter.”
Whereupon Katinka grew very angry and said: “Go, do as I say and bring me some violets, or I shall beat you to a jelly.” With that Katinka pushed her out of the door and with the help of her mother barred the door behind her.
Now, it was mid-winter and snow was upon the ground, and Dobrunka started through the forest not knowing what to do. As she walked along the forest, she saw on a hillside a fire burning. Soon she came to the fire, and there sat twelve old men with long grey beards. Their names were the Twelve Months.
It was mid-winter, and January, of course, was presiding. As Dobrunka came near to the group, not knowing what to do nor where to go, she stopped and began to cry.
January saw her, and said: “Child, why do you stand there shivering and crying, what is the matter?”
Dobrunka said, “My mother and sister have driven me from the house, and they said if I do not bring them some violets they will beat me to a jelly.”
January felt sorry for the girl, and he said: “Violets do not belong to me; perhaps March can help you.”
Near by sat March, and he turned and saw the girl was troubled and he pitied her.
March stood up and waved his wand over the fire. The fire and the circle of old men disappeared. March and the girl were standing in a field and the air was fragrant with the breath of early Spring. March said, “Daughter look down at your feet, and gather as many violets as you wish!”
As Dobrunka looked, all about her the field was purple with violets. She stooped down and gathered a great handful of them.
When she came back to the house and entered the door, Katinka saw her, and said, “Yes, I knew you could bring them, you were just pretending that you could not.” And, the perfume of the violets filled the whole house.
Some days after Katinka came again to Dobrunka, and said:
“Dobrunka, I want some strawberries, red and fresh from the fields.”
“There sat twelve old men”
Dobrunka said, “Why sister, how strangely you talk. This is not the time for strawberries; it is mid-winter. But Katinka said: “Obey me, you said there were no violets the other day; you brought them,—go, bring me some strawberries or I will beat you to a jelly.”
With that she pushed her out of the door and the stepmother helped her bar the door.
Dobrunka then turned toward the forest again. Snow was still on the ground. She walked along toward the mountain and saw again the fire burning in the distance. Soon she was standing where sat the twelve old men in a circle.
January heard her footfall on the snow. Dobrunka stopped and began crying. January said to her, “Child, why did you come back, we gave you violets and still you are back again?”
Dobrunka said, “My mother and sister have driven me from my home, and they say if I do not bring some strawberries they will beat me to a jelly.”
January said: “I am sorry, but I cannot help you. Strawberries do not belong to me; perhaps May can help you.”
May was sitting across the circle. He looked at the girl standing there in trouble and he felt sorry for her. He stood up and waved his wand across the fire. The old men disappeared and the fire. Dobrunka found herself standing in a field. It was a perfect day in May. Above her head the sky was soft and blue; in every treetop sang the birds. May, the old man, stood by her and said:
“Look child at the earth and see what you will find.”
Dobrunka looked, and all about in great bunches grew strawberries, peeping like jewels from the green leaves.
May said to her, “Help yourself.” And stooping down she gathered her hands full and then ran back to the house.
When she entered the door, her sister seized the berries and ate them all up.
A few days after that, Katinka came again to Dobrunka and said: “Dobrunka, I want some apples, fresh and ripe; go to the forest and find me some.”
Dobrunka said, “Why sister how strangely you talk,—this is not the time for apples; it is mid-winter.”
Katinka said, “Lazy girl, you said you could not find the violets, but you did. You said there were no strawberries, but you brought them; go, and get me some apples or I will beat you to a jelly.”
Whereupon she pushed her from the door and the stepmother helped her to bar the door behind her.
Dobrunka turned again to the forest. She remembered where the old men lived on the mountainside and was soon standing near the circle. She crept along very quietly. She did not wish to ask the old men to help her again because they already had been so kind to her, but January saw her standing with bowed head and shivering in the cold.
He said, “Child, child, why did you come back here? We sent you away the other day with your wants supplied.”
Then Dobrunka said: “My mother and sister have driven me from the house, they say if I do not bring them some apples they will beat me to a jelly.”
January said, “Apples do not belong to me; perhaps September can help you.”
“One day the handsomest youth in all the world came by”
On the opposite side of the circle sat September, and he saw the girl standing there, helpless. He felt sorry for her and standing up, he waved his wand over the fire. The circle and the old men disappeared. They were standing in a gently rolling field. The air was soft; the crickets were chirping in the grass and there was in the sky a haze. All around here stood great apple trees, loaded with fruit, red and yellow.
September said to the girl, “Help yourself.”
Dobrunka picked up two of the largest apples, and then fled back to the house. When her sister saw her, she seized the apples, ate one and gave the other to her mother. As soon as the apples were eaten,—she came to Dobronka, and said, “Why did you not bring more apples?”
Then Dobrunka told her about the old men and how they had helped her each time.
“Then,” said Katinka, “I know why you did not bring more, you ate them up on the way. Go back, and bring me more or I will beat you.”
Dobrunka said, “Please do not send me again in the cold,” and she begged that she might stay in the house.
Then Katinka said, “I will go myself; if you could get them I can get them from the old men.”
She left the house and walked through the forest, and soon came in sight of the fire where sat the twelve old men. When she came near to them, she said, “Hello there, old grey beards, I want some apples and want them quick!”
January was not accustomed to such words. He stood up and waved his wand over the fire and the fire and the circle were gone.
Katinka found herself in a great forest. The wind was wailing through the treetops, the snow was falling and it was bitter cold. Katinka did not come back to the house. Her mother waited for her and by and by she started out in search of her, but she, too, was lost in the storm that raged, and never came back.
Dobrunka waited in the house. The night passed, and the next day and many days. By and by the snow melted. The birds and flowers of Spring came, but still the lost ones did not come back. Dobrunka had the house all alone. One day, the handsomest youth in all the world came by and met Dobrunka. They became friends, and afterwards they were married and lived happily forever thereafter.
The Storytellers’ League, of the State Normal School, of Dillon, Montana, have decided for the present year to devote their attention to a line of work, which so far as we know, has not yet been attempted by any other League. They will investigate the part that the supernatural, especially witchcraft, plays in literature, and will follow it not only through folk literature, but the following units: Goethe’s Faust, Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Macbeth, Konigs-kinder and Hansel and Gretel. The general theme will be broken from time to time by the introduction of stories suitable for a special session. At the last meeting in December the program will be given over to Christmas stories, tales and legends. Miss Florence Mayer is President of the League.