that the cruellest of men would never have thought of.
One day—it was in the middle of January—Holena felt a longing for the scent of violets.
“Go, Maruša, and get me some violets from the forest; I want to wear them at my waist and to smell them,” she said to her sister.
“Great heavens! sister. What a strange notion! Who ever heard off violets growing under the snow?” said poor Maruša.
“You wretched tatterdemalion! how dare you argue when I tell you to do something? Off you go at once, and if you don’t bring me violets from the forest I’ll kill you!” said Holena threateningly.
The stepmother caught hold of Maruša, turned her out of the door, and slammed it to after her. She went into the forest weeping bitterly. The snow lay deep, and there wasn’t a human footprint to be seen. Maruša wandered about for a long time, tortured by hunger and trembling with cold. She begged God to take her from the world.
At last she saw a light in the distance. She went towards the glow, and came at last to the top of a mountain. A big fire was burning there, and round the fire were twelve stones with twelve men sitting on them. Three of them had snow-white beards, three were not so old, and three were still younger. The three youngest were the handsomest of them all. They were not speaking, but all sitting silent. These twelve MEN were the twelve MONTHS. Great January sat highest of all; his hair and beard were as white as snow, and in his hand he held a club.
Maruša was frightened. She stood still for a time in terror, but, growing bolder, she went up to them and said: “Please, kind sirs, let me warm my hands at your fire. I am trembling with the cold.”
Great January nodded, and asked her: “Why have you come here, my dear little girl? What are you looking for?”
“I am looking for violets”, answered Maruša.
“This is no time to be looking for violets, for everything is covered with snow,” answered Great January.
“Yes, I know; but my sister Holena and my stepmother said that I must bring them some violets from the forest. If I don’t bring them, they’ll kill me. Tell me, fathers, please tell me where I can find them.”
Great January stood up and went to one of the younger months—it was March—and, giving him the club, he said: “Brother, take the high seat”.
March took the high seat upon the stone and waved the club over the fire. The fire blazed up, the snow began to melt, the trees began to bud, and the ground under the young beech-trees was at once covered with grass and the crimson daisy buds began to peep through the grass. It was springtime. Under the bushes the violets were blooming among their little leaves, and before Maruša had time to think, so many of them had sprung up that they looked like a blue cloth spread out on the ground.
“Pick them quickly, Maruša!” commanded March.
Maruša picked them joyfully till she had a big bunch. They she thanked the months with all her heart and scampered merrily home.
Holena and the stepmother wondered when they saw Maruša bringing the violets. They opened the door to her, and the scent of violets filled all the cottage.
“Where did you get them?” asked Holena sulkily.
“They are growing under the bushes in a forest on the high mountains.”
Holena put them in her waistband. She let her mother smell them, but she did not say to her sister: “Smell them.”
Another day she was lolling near the stove, and now she longed for some strawberries. So she called to her sister and said: “Go Maruša, and get me some strawberries from the forest.”
“Alas! dear sister, where could I find any strawberries? Who ever heard of strawberries growing under the snow?” said Maruša.
“You wretched little tatterdemalion, how dare you argue when I tell you to do a thing? Go at once and get me the strawberries, or I’ll kill you!”
The stepmother caught hold of Maruša and pushed her out of the door and shut it after her. Maruša went to the forest weeping bitterly. The snow was lying deep, and there wasn’t a human footprint to be seen anywhere. She wandered about for a long time, tortured by hunger and trembling with cold. At last she saw the light she had seen the other day. Overjoyed, she went towards it. She came to the great fire with the twelve months sitting round it.
“Please, kind sirs, let me warm my hands at the fire. I am trembling with cold.”
Great January nodded, and asked her: “Why have you come again, and what are you looking for here?”
“I am looking for strawberries.”
“But it is winter now, and strawberries don’t grow on the snow,” said January.
“Yes, I know,” said Maruša sadly; “but my sister Holena and my stepmother bade me bring them some strawberries, and if I don’t bring them, they will kill me. Tell me, fathers, tell me, please, where I can find them.”
Great January arose. He went over to the month sitting opposite to him—it was June—and handed the club to him, saying: “Brother, take the high seat.”
June took the high seat upon the stone and swung the club over the fire. The fire shot up, and its heat melted the snow in a moment. The ground was all green, the trees were covered with leaves, the birds began to sing, and the forest was filled with all kinds of flowers. It was summer. The ground under the bushes was covered with white starlets, the starry blossoms were turning into strawberries every minute. They ripened at once, and before Maruša had time to think, there were so many of them
