Now the old woman did not want anyone to know what a greedy daughter she had; so she sang instead of that,
“My daughter has spun five, five skeins today.”
“Land sakes alive!” said the king, “I never heard tell of anyone’s doing that. Now look you here, my good woman. I want a wife, and I’ll marry your daughter. But look you here. For eleven months of the year she shall have all the victuals she wants to eat, and all the clothes she wants to wear, and all the company she likes to keep. But the twelfth month, she must spin five skeins every day, or off’ll go her head!”
“All right,” says the woman, for she thought:
“What a grand marriage this will be. And as for them there five skeins, by that time he’ll forget all about them.”
So they were married. And for eleven months the girl had all the victuals she wanted to eat, and she had all the clothes she wanted to get, and she had all the company she liked to keep. But sometimes she felt a little uneasy. Sometimes she thought of that spinning she must do.
The king, he never said one word about the five skeins, so as the eleven months had nearly passed, the girl thought that he had forgotten all about it.
But one day, it was the last day of the eleventh month! The king came to her, and he took her into a little room she had never seen before. There was nothing in it but a spinning wheel and a little chair and a small bare table.
“Here, my girl,” says he, “here I’ll put you tomorrow. And I’ll lock the door. And here you must stay all day long. At night I’ll come, and if you’ve not spun the five skeins, off’ll go your head!” And away he went about his business.