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Updated: May 31, 2025
Marouckla prayed to die rather than suffer such ill-treatment. Weeping bitterly, she took refuge in the kitchen. Helen and her mother found the apples more delicious than any they had ever tasted, and when they had eaten both longed for more. "Listen, mother," said Helen. "Give me my cloak; I will fetch some more apples myself, or else that good-for-nothing wretch will eat them all on the way.
"Then why did you not bring more?" said Helen angrily; "you must have eaten them on your way back, you wicked girl." "No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them," said Marouckla. "I shook the tree twice; one apple fell each time. I was not allowed to shake it again, but was told to return home." "May God smite you with his thunderbolt," said Helen, striking her.
Brezène obeyed, at the same time waving his wand over the fire. Immediately the flames rose towards the sky, the snow began to melt and the trees and shrubs to bud; the grass became green, and from between its blades peeped the pale primrose. It was Spring, and the meadows were blue with violets. "Gather them quickly, Marouckla," said Brezène.
"Then why did you not bring more?" said Helen angrily; "you must have eaten them on your way back, you wicked girl." "No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them," said Marouckla. "I shook the tree twice; one apple fell each time. I was not allowed to shake it again, but was told to return home." "May Perum smite you with his thunderbolt," said Helen, striking her.
"You wretched creature! Do you dare to disobey me?" said Helen. "Not another word. Off with you! If you do not bring me some violets from the mountain forest I will kill you." The stepmother also added her threats to those of Helen, and with vigorous blows they pushed Marouckla outside and shut the door upon her. The weeping girl made her way to the mountain.
Only a few flowers of autumn were visible, such as the fleabane and red gillyflower, autumn colchicums in the ravine, and under the beeches bracken and tufts of northern heather. At first Marouckla looked in vain for red apples. Then she espied a tree which grew at a great height, and from the branches of this hung the bright red fruit. Zaré ordered her to gather some quickly.
"Gather them quickly, Marouckla," said Tchervène. Joyfully she thanked the months, and having filled her apron ran happily home. Helen and her mother wondered at seeing the strawberries, which filled the house with their delicious fragrance. "Wherever did you find them?" asked Helen crossly. "Right up among the mountains; those from under the beech trees are not bad."
"Run, Marouckla," said she, "and fetch me fresh, red apples from the mountain." "Apples in winter, sister? Why, the trees have neither leaves nor fruit!" "Idle thing, go this minute," said Helen; "unless you bring back apples we will kill you." As before, the stepmother seized her roughly and turned her out of the house.
The stepmother also added her threats to those of Helen, and with vigorous blows they pushed Marouckla outside and shut the door upon her. The weeping girl made her way to the mountain. The snow lay deep, and there was no trace of any human being. Long she wandered hither and thither, and lost herself in the wood. She was hungry, and shivered with cold, and prayed to die.
Days, weeks, months went by, but the rich man never returned, and none knew what had become of him. I think, between you and me, the younger brother had his suspicions but he very wisely kept them to himself. There was once a widow who had two daughters, Helen, her own child by her dead husband, and Marouckla, his daughter by his first wife.
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