"Brother Tchervène (June), do thou take the highest place."
Tchervène obeyed, and as he waved his wand over the fire the flames leapt towards the sky. Instantly the snow melted, the earth was covered with verdure, trees were clothed with leaves, birds began to sing, and various flowers blossomed in the forest. It was summer. Under the bushes masses of star-shaped flowers changed into ripening strawberries. Before Marouckla had time to cross herself they covered the glade, making it look like a sea of blood.
"Gather them quickly, Marouckla," said Tchervène.
Joyfully she thanked the months, and having filled her apron ran happily home. Helen and her mother wondered at seeing the strawberries, which filled the house with their delicious fragrance.
"Wherever did you find them?" asked Helen crossly.
"Right up among the mountains; those from under the beech trees are not bad."
Helen gave a few to her mother and ate the rest herself; not one did she offer to her stepsister. Being tired of strawberries, on the third day she took a fancy for some fresh red apples.
"Run, Marouckla," said she, "and fetch me fresh red apples from the mountain."
"Apples in winter, sister? why, the trees have neither leaves nor fruit."
"Idle creature, go this minute," said Helen; "unless you bring back apples we will kill you."