Though still clad in a short, ragged gown, she was now in the first flush of fair young maidenhood, and possessed marvellous beauty, with the natural grace and noble bearing of a Princess; and in spite of the red kerchief which so tightly swathed her head, a few stray golden locks escaped to betray the hidden wealth of her woman's crowning glory.
She lay thus sweetly day-dreaming in full sight of the hut, on the roof of which hopped a tame raven cawing to a big yellow tom-cat on the ground below; but, presently, she was interrupted by the old witch, who popped her head out of the window and began to scold the girl for letting the geese stray too far.
The goose-girl sprang up and collected the geese together once more; and then, hearing the witch still calling to her, she entered the little garden, where she stopped again to gaze at a lovely golden-yellow lily-bud growing there, sighing because it refused to open to the light of day.
The old dame, however, soon dragged her away with a cuff, and, putting a kettle into her hands, bade her draw water from the trough near by; and when the girl stooped again to smile at her fair reflection in the water, she scolded her more than ever, and set her to knead a magic cake.
The goose-girl made the cake, kneading into it various strange powders and herbs given her for the purpose by the witch; and when it was done, she held it high above her head, declaring that he who ate of it should see his sweetheart quickly. The old witch, however, snatched it from her and declared instead that it would bring death to those who ate of it.
The girl, full of horror, ran off to rest beneath the linden-tree and seek comfort from her pet dove; and presently, the old witch departed into the forest depths beyond, to gather simples and loathsome things for her potions, first telling the young captive that it was useless for her to try to wander away, since she had cast a spell over the bushes and briars, and that they would thus hold her back.
As soon as the dame had departed, the little goose-girl's spirits rose at once, so that she began to sing and dance in the sunshine; and then, snatching up a wreath of wild-flowers she had made earlier in the day and hidden in a bush, she set it on her head, and ran to gaze at her reflection in the water trough.
The charming picture she saw there delighted her, and she called to the geese to come and admire her also; but whilst she laughed at their quacking and rejoiced in her own fair looks, she was suddenly addressed by a stranger, and, turning in haste, found herself face to face with a handsome youth, who, though clad in garments torn and travel-stained, yet had the proud and kingly air of one of royal birth.
Though at first terrified, the goose-girl gazed in amazement at the stranger, her fear quickly vanishing in wonder, admiration, and delight; and when the youth laughed at her surprise and begged her to give him greeting, she asked in awestruck tones:—"Are you a man?"
The stranger laughingly assured her that he was, keeping his own eyes fixed upon her face, for, though he had beheld many fair maidens before, he had never yet been confronted with one of such dazzling loveliness as this ragged child.