f the house; she had to sweep, cook, wash, sew, spin,
weave, cut the grass, and take care of the cow, while Katinka lived
like a princess--that is to say, did nothing.

Dobrunka worked with a good will, and took reproaches and blows with
the gentleness of a lamb; but nothing soothed her stepmother, for
every day added to the beauty of the elder sister and the ugliness of
the younger. "They are growing up," thought the mother, "and suitors
will soon appear, who will refuse my daughter when they see this
hateful Dobrunka, who grows beautiful on purpose to spite me. I must
get rid of her, cost what it may."

One day in the middle of January, Katinka took a fancy for some
violets. She called Dobrunka and said, "Go to the forest and bring me
a bunch of violets, that I may put them in my bosom and enjoy their
fragrance."

"Oh, sister, what an idea!" answered Dobrunka; "as if there were any
violets under the snow!"

"Hold your tongue, stupid fool," returned her sister, "and do as I bid
you. If you do not go to the forest and bring me back a bunch of
violets I will beat you to a jelly." Upon this the mother took
Dobrunka by the arm, put her out of the door, and drew the bolt on
her.

The poor girl went to the forest weeping bitterly. Everything was
covered with snow; there was not even a footpath. She lost her way and
wandered about till, famishing with hunger and perishing with cold,
she entreated God to take her from this wretched life.

All at once she saw a light in the distance. She went on, climbing
higher and higher, until at last she reached the top of a huge rock,
upon which a great fire was built. Around the fire were twelve stones,
and on each stone sat a motionless figure, wrapped in a large mantle,
his head covered with a hood which fell over his eyes. Three of these
mantles were white like the snow, three were green like the grass of
the meadows, three were golden like the sheaves of ripe wheat, and
three were purple like the grapes of the vine. These twelve figures,
gazing at the fire in silence, were the Twelve Months of the year.

Dobrunka knew January by his long white beard. He was the only one
that had a staff in his hand. The poor girl was terribly frightened.
She drew near, saying, in a timid voice, "My good sirs, please to let
me warm myself by your fire; I am freezing with cold."

January nodded his head. "Why have you come here, my child?" he asked.
"What are you looking for?"

"I am looking