When the huntsmen seized the maiden, she awoke and was frightened and cried out to them: "I am a poor child, forsaken by father and mother. Take pity on me and let me go with you." Then they said to her: "Many-furred Creature, you can work in the kitchen. Come with us and sweep the ashes together." So they put her in the cart and went back to the palace. There they showed her a tiny room under the stairs, where no daylight came, and said to her: "Many-furred Creature, you can live and sleep here." Then she was sent into the kitchen, where she carried wood and water, poked the fire, washed vegetables, plucked fowls, swept up the ashes, and did all the dirty work.
So the Many-furred Creature lived for a long time in great poverty. Ah, beautiful king's daughter, what is going to befall you now?
It happened once when a great feast was being held in the palace that she said to the cook: "Can I go upstairs for a little bit and look on? I will stand outside the doors." The cook replied: "Yes, you can go up, but in half an hour you must be back here to sweep up the ashes." Then she took her little oil lamp and went into her little room, drew off her fur cloak, and washed off the soot from her face and hands, so that her beauty shone forth, and it was as if one sunbeam after another were coming out of a black cloud. Then she opened the nut and took out the dress as golden as the sun. And when she had done this she went up to the feast, and everyone stepped out of her way, for nobody knew her, and they thought she must be a king's daughter. But the King came toward her and gave her his hand, and danced with her, thinking to himself, "My eyes have never beheld anyone so fair!" When the dance was ended she courtesied to him, and when the King looked around she had disappeared, no one knew whither. The guards who were standing before the palace were called and questioned, but no one had seen her.
She had run to her little room and had quickly taken off her dress, made her face and hands black, put on the fur cloak, and was once more the Many-furred Creature. When she came into the kitchen and was setting about her work of sweeping the ashes together the cook said to her: "Let that wait till to-morrow, and just cook the King's soup for me. I want to have a little peep at the company upstairs. But be sure that you do not let a hair fall into it, otherwise you will get nothing to eat in future!" So the cook went away, and the Many-furred Creature cooked the soup for the King. She made a bread soup as well as she possibly could, and when it was done she fetched her gold ring from her little room and laid it in the tureen in which the soup was to be served up.
When the dance was ended the King had his soup brought to him and ate it, and it was so good that he thought he had never tasted such soup in his life. But when he came to the bottom of the dish he saw a gold ring lying there, and he could not imagine how it got in. Then he commanded the cook to be brought before him. The cook was terrified when he heard the command and said to the Many-furred Creature: "You must have let a hair fall into the soup, and if you have you deserve a good beating!"
When he came before the King, the King asked who had cooked the soup. The cook answered: "I cooked it." But the King said: "That's not true, for it was quite different and much better soup than you have ever cooked." Then the cook said: "I must confess. I did not cook the soup; the Many-furred Creature did." "Let her be brought before me," said the King.
When the Many-furred Creature came the King asked her who she was. "I am a poor child without father or mother." Then he asked her: "What do you do in my palace?" "I am of no use except to have boots thrown at my head." "How did you get the ring which was in the soup?" he asked. "I know nothing at all about the ring," she answered. So the King could find out nothing and was obliged to send her away.
After a time there was another feast, and the Many-furred Creature begged the cook again to let her go and look on. He answered: "Yes, but come back again in half an hour and cook the King the bread soup that he likes so much." So she ran away to her little room, washed herself quickly, took out of the nut the dress as silver as the moon and put it on. Then she went upstairs looking just like a king's daughter, and the King came toward her, delighted to see her again, and as the dance had just begun, they danced together. But when the dance was ended she disappeared again so quickly that the King could not see which way she went.
She ran to her little room and changed herself once more into the Many-furred Creature, and went into the kitchen to cook the bread soup. When the cook was upstairs she fetched the golden spinning wheel and put it in the dish, so that the soup was poured over it. It was brought to the King, who ate it and liked it as much as the last time. He had the cook sent to him, and again he had to confess that the Many-furred Creature had cooked the soup. Then the Many-furred Creature came before the King, but she said again that she was of no use except to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew nothing at all of the golden spinning wheel.
When the King had a feast for the third time things did not turn out quite the same as they had before. The cook said: "You must be a witch, Many-furred Creature, for you always put something in the soup, so that it is much better and tastes nicer to the King than any that I cook." But because she begged hard he let her go up for the third time. Now she put on the dress as shining as the stars and stepped into the hall in it.