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Updated: May 16, 2025
Katinka put the bouquet in her bosom and did not even thank the poor child. The next morning the wicked sister, as she sat idling by the stove, took a fancy for some strawberries. "Go to the forest and bring me some strawberries," said she to Dobrunka. "Oh, sister, what an idea! as if there were any strawberries under the snow!" "Hold your tongue, stupid fool, and do as I bid you.
If you don't go to the forest and bring me back a basket of strawberries, I will beat you to a jelly." The mother took Dobrunka by the arm, put her out of the door, and drew the bolt on her. The poor girl returned to the forest, looking with all her eyes for the light that she had seen the day before. She was fortunate enough to spy it, and she reached the fire trembling and almost frozen.
She shook it, and an apple fell; she shook it again, and a second apple followed. "Make haste, Dobrunka, make haste home!" cried September, in an imperious voice. The good child thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully ran home. You may imagine the astonishment of Katinka and the stepmother. "Red apples in January! Where did you get these apples?" asked Katinka.
Thousands of little white stars enameled the turf, then turned to red strawberries, looking, in their green cups, like rubies set in emeralds. "Make haste, my child, and gather your strawberries," said June. Dobrunka filled her apron, thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully ran home. You may imagine the astonishment of Katinka and the stepmother.
Dobrunka lived to a good old age, always virtuous and happy, having, according to the proverb, winter at the door, summer in the barn, autumn in the cellar, and spring in the heart. Swanda the Piper A Bohemian Tale Swanda, the Piper, was a jolly companion.
Dobrunka gathered a large bouquet, thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully ran home. You can imagine the astonishment of Katinka and the stepmother. The fragrance of the violets filled the whole house. "Where did you find these fine things?" asked Katinka, in a disdainful voice. "Up yonder, on the mountain," answered her sister. "It looked like a great blue carpet under the bushes."
"Why have you come here, my child?" he asked. "What are you looking for?" "I am looking for violets," replied Dobrunka. "This is not the season for them; there are no violets in the time of snow," said January, in his gruff voice. "I know it," replied Dobrunka, sadly; "but my sister and mother will beat me to a jelly if I do not bring them some.
Dobrunka was soon married. The Twelve Months did not abandon their child. More than once, when the north wind blew fearfully and the windows shook in their frames, old January stopped up all the crevices of the house with snow, so that the cold might not enter this peaceful abode.
Dobrunka told him, with tears, how, if she did not bring home some red apples, her mother and sister would beat her to death. Old January repeated the ceremonies of the day before. "Brother September," said he to a gray-bearded man in a purple mantle, "this is your business."
Dobrunka waited through the evening and the night, but no one returned. In the morning she took her wheel and spun a whole distaff full; there was still no news. "What can have happened?" said the girl, weeping. The sun was shining through an icy mist and the ground was covered with snow. Dobrunka prayed for her mother and sister.
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