“Perhaps I can,” replied the old woman.
“But what kind of work would you have me to do?”
“I want you to make some coarse cloth for me, out of this wool.”
“Very well, let me have the wool then.”
And so, the peasant’s wife handed the large bag of wool to the old woman, who, without more ado, tossed it up on her back, at the same time saying,
“You may depend on my coming back with the cloth, the first day of summer.”
“But what payment will you ask for your work when you bring the cloth,” said the peasant’s wife.
“I won’t take any payment; but you must tell me what my name is, in three guesses.”
The peasant’s wife, too lazy to spin and weave for herself, agreed to this strange condition, and so the old woman departed.
As the winter months passed on, the peasant often asked what had become of the wool.