Well, that was no great thing, they said, so they agreed; and she with the long nose began to wash away as hard as ever she could; but the more she rubbed and scrubbed the bigger the spots grew.
"Ah!" said the old hag, her mother, "you can't wash; let me try."
But she hadn't long taken the job in hand before it got far worse than ever; and with all her rubbing, wringing, and scrubbing, the spots grew bigger and blacker and darker and uglier.
Then all the other trolls began to wash; but the longer it lasted the blacker and uglier it grew, until at last it looked as though it had been up the chimney.
"Ah!" said the Prince, "you are none of you worth a straw; you can't wash. Why, there outside sits a beggar lassie, and I'll be bound she knows how to wash better than the whole lot of you."
So he shouted to the lassie to come in, and in she came.
"Can you wash this clean, lassie?" said he.
"I don't know, but I think I can."
And almost before she had taken it and dipped it in the water, it was white as driven snow, and whiter still.