Well, so they were married. An' for 'leven months the gal had all the
vittles she liked to ate, and all the gownds she liked to git, and all
the cumpny she liked to have.
But when the time was gettin' oover, she began to think about them there
skeins an' to wonder if he had 'em in mind. But not one word did he say
about 'em, an' she whoolly thowt he'd forgot 'em.
Howsivir, the last day o' the last month, he takes her to a room she'd
niver set eyes on afore. There worn't nothin' in it but a spinnin' wheel
and a stool. An' says he, "Now, me dear, hare you'll be shut in
to-morrow with some vittles and some flax, and if you hain't spun five
skeins by the night, yar hid'll goo off."
An' awa' he went about his business.
Well, she were that frightened. She'd allus been such a gatless gal,
that she didn't se much as know how to spin, an' what were she to dew
to-morrer, with no one to come nigh her to help her? She sat down on a
stool in the kitchen, and lork! how she did cry!
Howsivir, all on a sudden she hard a sort of a knockin' low down on the
door. She upped and oped it, an' what should she see but a small little
black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right kewrious, an'
that said:
"What are yew a-cryin' for?"
"Wha's that to yew?" says she.
"Niver yew mind," that said, "but tell me what you're a cryin' for.
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