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So she took her by the hand and led her to an open door, and as the girl passed through it there fell a heavy shower of gold all over her, till she was covered with it from top to toe.

‘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.’

And so she pursued her way. When she came to Mother Holle’s house she wasn’t the least afraid, for she had been warned about her big teeth, and she readily agreed to become her maid. The first day she worked very hard, and did all her mistress told her, for she thought of the gold she would give her; but on the second day she began to be lazy, and on the third she wouldn’t even get up in the morning. She didn’t make Mother Holle’s bed as she ought to have done, and never shook it enough to make the feathers fly. So her mistress soon grew weary of her, and dismissed her, much to the lazy creature’s delight.

‘For now,’ she thought, ‘the shower of golden rain will come.’

Mother Holle led her to the same door as she had done her sister, but when she passed through it, instead of the gold rain a kettle full of pitch came showering over her.

‘That’s a reward for your service,’ said Mother Holle, and she closed the door behind her.

So the lazy girl came home all covered with pitch, and when the old hen on the top of the wall saw her, it called out:

‘Click, clock, clack,
Our dirty slut’s come back.’

But the pitch remained sticking to her, and never as long as she lived could it be got off.[1]

[1] Grimm.