"There, Marushka," September called, "there are your apples. Gather them quickly."
Marushka reached up and picked one apple. Then she picked another.
"That's enough, Marushka!" September shouted. "Don't pick any more!"
Marushka obeyed at once. Then she thanked the Months politely, bade them good-bye, and hurried home.
Holena and her stepmother were more surprised than ever to see Marushka coming through the snow with red apples in her hands. They let her in and grabbed the apples from her.
"Where did you get them?" Holena demanded.
"High up on the mountain," Marushka answered. "There are plenty of them growing there."
"Plenty of them! And you only brought us two!" Holena cried angrily. "Or did you pick more and eat them yourself on the way home?"
"No, no, my dear sister," Marushka said. "I haven't eaten any, truly I haven't. They wouldn't let me pick any more than two. They shouted to me not to pick any more."
"I wish the lightning had struck you dead!" Holena sneered. "I've a good mind to beat you!"