“Will you give me a drink of water?” asked the old woman.
“Gladly,” said Blanche. She drew the bucket full of water, and tilted it so the old woman could drink, but the crone lifted the bucket in her two hands as though it were a feather and drank and drank till the water was all gone. Blanche had never seen any one drink so much; not a drop was left in the bucket.
“May heaven bless you!” said the old woman, and then she went on her way.
And now Blanche had to fill the bucket again, and it seemed as though her arms would break, she was so tired.
When she went home her mother struck her because she had tarried so long at the well. Her blows made Blanche weep. Rose laughed when she saw her crying.
The very next day the mother became angry over nothing and gave Blanche such a beating that the girl ran away into the woods; she would not stay in the house any longer. She ran on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest, and there, in the deepest part, she met the old woman she had seen beside the well.
“Where are you going, my child? And why are you weeping so bitterly?” asked the crone.
“I am weeping because my mother beat me,” answered Blanche; “and now I have run away from her, and I do not know where to go.”
“Then come with me,” said the old woman. “I will give you a shelter and a bite to eat, and in return there is many a task you can do for me. Only, whatever you may see as we journey along together you must not laugh nor say anything about it.”
Blanche promised she would not, and then she trudged away at the old woman’s side.