Well, the woman she were wholly bate, and she took her spinnin' to the door to spin, and as she span she sang:
"My darter ha' ate five, five pies to-day—
My darter ha' ate five, five pies to-day."
The king, he were a comin' down the street and he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn't hare, so he stopped and said:
"What were that you was a singin of, woman?"
The woman, she were ashamed to let him hare what her darter had been a-doin', so she sang, 'stids o' that:
"My darter ha' spun five, five skeins to-day—
My darter ha' spun five, five skeins to-day."
"S'ars o' mine!" said the king, "I never heerd tell of any one as could do that."
Then he said: "Look you here, I want a wife, and I'll marry your darter. But look you here," says he, "'leven months out o' the year she shall have all the vittles she likes to eat, and all the gownds she likes to git, and all the cumpny she likes to hev; but the last month o' the year she'll ha' to spin five skeins iv'ry day, an' if she doon't, I shall kill her."
"All right," says the woman; for she thowt what a grand marriage that was. And as for them five skeins, when te come tew, there'd be plenty o' ways of gettin' out of it, and likeliest, he'd ha' forgot about it.