‘That’s a reward for being such a good little maid,’ said Mother Holle, and she gave her the spindle too that had fallen into the well. Then she shut the door, and the girl found herself back in the world again, not far from her own house; and when she came to the courtyard the old hen, who sat on the top of the wall, called out:
‘Click, clock, clack,
Our golden maid’s come back.’
Then she went in to her stepmother, and as she had returned covered with gold she was welcomed home.
She proceeded to tell all that had happened to her, and when the mother heard how she had come by her riches, she was most anxious to secure the same luck for her own idle, ugly daughter; so she told her to sit at the well and spin. In order to make her spindle bloody, she stuck her hand into a hedge of thorns and pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well, and jumped in herself after it. Like her sister she came to the beautiful meadow, and followed the same path. When she reached the baker’s oven the bread called out as before:
‘Oh! take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done enough.’
But the good-for-nothing girl answered:
‘A pretty joke, indeed; just as if I should dirty my hands for you!’
And on she went. Soon she came to the apple tree, which cried:
‘Oh! shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe.’
‘I’ll see myself farther,’ she replied, ‘one of them might fall on my head.’