"How can I do this in only twenty-four hours—spin all that flax, weave it into cloth, and make a shirt out of it? Well! I must set to work! and do what I can.... He will at least see that my will was good, though I was unable to perform the task."
Thus saying, she dried her tears, ate some of her bread and strawberries, sat down to the spinning-wheel, and began to spin by the light of the moon.
The time went by quickly, as she worked, and it was daylight before she knew.
And there was no more flax left; she had spun out the last distaff-full.
She was astonished to see how fast the work had gone, and began to wonder how she was to weave the thread without any loom.
Thinking, she fell asleep.
When she woke the sun was already high in the heavens. There was breakfast ready on the table, and a loom under the window.
She ran down to the neighbouring brook, washed her face and hands, came back, said grace, and ate her breakfast; then she sat down to the loom.
The shuttle flew so fast that the cloth was all ready by noon.
She took it out into a meadow, sprinkled it from the brook, spread it out in the sun, and in one hour the cloth was bleached.