The Shoemaker's Apron: A Second Book of Czechoslovak Fairy Tales and Folk Tales. Fillmore Parker
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January slowly stood up and walked over to the youngest Month. He handed him a long staff and said:
"Here, March, you take the high seat."
So March took the high seat and began waving the staff over the fire. The fire blazed up and instantly the snow all about began to melt. The trees burst into bud; the grass revived; the little pink buds of the daisies appeared; and, lo, it was spring!
While Marushka looked, violets began to peep out from among the leaves and soon it was as if a great blue quilt had been spread on the ground.
"Now, Marushka," March cried, "there are your violets! Pick them quickly!"
Marushka was overjoyed. She stooped down and gathered a great bunch. Then she thanked the Months politely, bade them good-day, and hurried away.
Just imagine Holena and the stepmother's surprise when they saw Marushka coming home through the snow with her hands full of violets. They opened the door and instantly the fragrance of the flowers filled the cottage.
"Where did you get them?" Holena demanded rudely.
"High up in the mountain," Marushka said. "The ground up there is covered with them."
Holena snatched the violets and fastened them in her waist. She kept smelling them herself all afternoon and she let her mother smell them, but she never once said to Marushka:
"Dear sister, won't you take a smell?"
The next day as she was sitting idle in the chimney corner she took the notion that she must have some strawberries to eat. So she called Marushka and said:
"Here you, Marushka, go out to the forest and get me some strawberries."
"Good heavens, my dear sister," Marushka said, "where can I find strawberries this time of year? Whoever heard of strawberries growing under the snow?"
"What, you lazy little slattern!" Holena shouted. "You dare to argue with me! You go this minute and if you come back without strawberries, I'll kill you!"
Again the stepmother sided with Holena and, taking Marushka roughly by the shoulder, she pushed her out of the house and slammed the door.
Again the poor child climbed slowly up the mountain side weeping bitterly. All around the snow lay deep with no track of man or beast in any direction. Marushka wandered on and on, weak with hunger and shaking with cold. At last she saw ahead of her the glow of the same fire that she had seen the day before. With happy heart she hastened to it. The Twelve Months were seated as before with Great January on the high seat.
Marushka bowed politely and said:
"Kind sirs, may I warm myself at your fire? I am shaking with cold."
Great January nodded and Marushka reached her stiff fingers towards the flames.
"But Marushka," Great January said, "why are you here again? What are you hunting now?"
"I'm hunting for strawberries," Marushka answered.
"Strawberries? But, Marushka, my child, it is winter and strawberries do not grow in the snow."
Marushka shook her head sadly.
"I know that, sir, but my sister, Holena, says I must bring her strawberries from the forest or she will kill me and my mother says so, too. Please, sir, won't you tell me where I can find some?"
Great January slowly stood up and walked over to the Month who sat opposite him. He handed him the long staff and said:
"Here, June, you take the high seat."
So June took the high seat and began waving the staff over the fire. The flames blazed high and with the heat the snow all about melted instantly. The earth grew green; the trees decked themselves in leaves; the birds began to sing; flowers bloomed and, lo, it was summer! Presently little starry white blossoms covered the ground under the beech trees. Soon these turned to fruit, first green, then pink, then red, and, with a gasp of delight, Marushka saw that they were ripe strawberries.
"Now, Marushka," June cried, "there are your strawberries! Pick them quickly!"
Marushka picked an apronful of berries. Then she thanked the Months politely, bade them good-bye, and hurried home.
Just imagine again Holena and the stepmother's surprise as they saw Marushka coming through the snow with an apronful of strawberries!
They opened the door and instantly the fragrance of the berries filled the house.
"Where did you get them?" Holena demanded rudely.
"High up in the mountain," Marushka answered, "under the beech trees."
Holena took the strawberries and gobbled and gobbled and gobbled. Then the stepmother ate all she wanted. But it never occurred to either of them to say:
"Here, Marushka, you take one."
The next day when Holena was sitting idle, as usual, in the chimney corner, the notion took her that she must have some red apples. So she called Marushka and said:
"Here you, Marushka, go out to the forest and get me some red apples."
"But, my dear sister," Marushka gasped, "where can I find red apples in winter?"
"What, you lazy little slattern, you dare to argue with me! You go this minute and if you come back without red apples I'll kill you!"
For the third time the stepmother sided with Holena and, taking Marushka roughly by the shoulder, pushed her out of the house and slammed the door.
So again the poor child went out to the forest. All around the snow lay deep with no track of man or beast in any direction. This time Marushka hurried straight to the mountain top. She found the Months still seated about their fire with Great January still on the high stone.
Marushka bowed politely and said:
"Kind sirs, may I warm myself at your fire? I am shaking with cold."
Great January nodded and Marushka reached her stiff fingers towards the flames.
"Why are you here again, Marushka?" Great January asked. "What are you looking for now?"
"Red apples," Marushka answered. "My sister, Holena, says I must bring her some red apples from the forest or she will kill me, and my mother says so, too. Please, sir, won't you tell me where I can find some?"
Great January slowly stood up and walked over to one of the older Months. He handed him the long staff and said:
"Here, September, you take the high seat."
So September took the high seat and began waving the staff over the fire. The fire burned and glowed. Instantly the snow disappeared. The fields about looked brown and yellow and dry. From the trees the leaves dropped one by one and a cool breeze scattered them over the stubble. There were not many flowers, only wild asters on the hillside, and meadow saffron in the valleys, and under the beeches, ferns and ivy. Presently Marushka spied an apple-tree weighted down with ripe fruit.
"There, Marushka," September called, "there are your apples. Gather them quickly."
Marushka reached up and picked one apple. Then she picked another.
"That's enough, Marushka!" September shouted. "Don't pick any more!"
Marushka obeyed at once. Then she thanked the Months politely, bade them good-bye, and hurried home.
Holena and her stepmother were more surprised than ever to see Marushka coming through the snow with red apples in her hands. They let her in and grabbed the apples from her.
"Where did you get them?" Holena demanded.
"High up on the mountain," Marushka answered. "There are plenty of them growing there."
"Plenty of them! And you only brought us two!" Holena cried angrily. "Or did you pick more and eat them yourself on the way home?"
"No, no, my dear sister," Marushka said. "I haven't eaten any, truly I haven't. They wouldn't let me pick any more than two. They shouted to me not to pick any more."
"I wish the lightning had struck you dead!" Holena sneered. "I've a good mind to beat you!"
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