“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My fruit is ripe, and my boughs are like to break with the weight of it.”
“Not I!” cried the girl. “I will not shake you. Suppose one of the apples should fall upon my head. Your boughs may break for all of me!” And so she went on her way, munching an apple that she had picked up from off the ground.
It was not long before she came to Mother Hulda’s house, and there was Mother Hulda herself looking out of the window. The ugly girl was not afraid of her and her long teeth, for the good sister had already told her about them. She marched up to the door and opened it as bold as bold.
“I have come to take service with you,” she said, “and to get the reward.”
“Very well,” answered Mother Hulda. “If you serve me well and faithfully the reward shall not be lacking.”
She then took the ugly girl upstairs and showed her the bed, and told her how she was to shake and beat it. Then she left her there.
The ugly girl began to beat the bed, but she soon tired of it and came downstairs and asked if supper were ready. Mother Hulda frowned, but she said nothing, and she gave the girl a good supper of bread and meat.
The next day the ugly girl hardly beat the bed at all, and the next day it was still worse. At the end of the week hardly a flake of snow had floated out over the world.
“You will never do for me,” said Mother Hulda. “You will have to go.”
“Very well,” answered the girl. “I am willing, but give me my reward first.”