In a certain village lived a Man and his Wife, who was such a very idle woman that she would do no work at all scarcely; for what her husband gave her to spin she did very slowly, and then would not take the trouble to wind it, so that it lay on the ground ravelled and shackled. Whenever her husband scolded her she was always beforehand with an excuse, and used to say, “Why, how can I wind without a reel? you must go and fetch me one from the wood first.” “Well, if that is all,” said her husband one day, “if that is all, I will go and find you one.” As soon as he said this, the Woman began to be afraid that if he found a piece of wood he would make a reel from it, and she would have to wind up what was ravelled and begin afresh. She therefore considered a while what she should do, and then the lucky thought came to run into the forest secretly after her husband. She found him in the act of cutting a branch off, for the purpose of trimming it; and so, slipping in among the brush wood where he could not see her, she began to sing—
“He that cuts a reel shall die,
And he that winds shall perish.”
The Man listened, laid down his axe, and wondered what the voice meant. At last he said, “Ah! well! what should it be? it was nothing but some fancy in my head, about which I need not fear!” So saying, he seized his axe and began again; but the voice sang as before—
“He that cuts a reel shall die,
And he that winds shall perish.”
The Man stopped again, and began to feel very uncomfortable and frightened; but he soon took courage and began to chop again. At the same time the voice cried again—
“He that cuts a reel shall die,
And he that winds shall perish.”
This time he was too frightened to do anything more, and hastily leaving the tree he set out homewards. Meanwhile his Wife, by a bypath, and by means of great exertion, reached home before him; and when he arrived she looked as innocent as if nothing had happened, and inquired of her husband if he had brought a good reel? “No, no!” he said; “I can see very well that it is of no use; winding won’t do!” and then, after telling her all that had happened, he ceased to scold her for her idleness.
But only for a while, for soon the disorder in his house began to vex him again. “Wife, wife!” he said, “it is surely a shame that you leave your thread in that ravel.” “Well, do you know what to do?” said she; “since we can get no reel, do you lie down on the floor, and I will stand above you, and then you must throw the thread up to me, and I will send it back to you, and so we will make a skein.” “Ah! yes, that will do,” said the Man; and they pursued this plan, and as soon as the skein was ready he talked of its being boiled. This aggravated the woman again, and she bethought herself of some new plot, while she consented to do as he proposed. Early in the morning, accordingly, she got up, made a fire, and, putting on the kettle, put a lump of tow into it instead of the skein of thread, and left it to soak. This done, she went to her husband, who was still in bed, and said to him, “I have to go out now; but do you get up at once and see after the thread which is in the kettle over the fire; and mind you are very attentive to it, for if by chance the cock should crow before you look at it the thread will all turn to tow.”
The husband thereupon got up at once, and stopped for no further directions, but, running as quick as he could into the kitchen, he looked into the kettle, and grew pale with affright; the thread was already changed into tow. After this the poor man was as still as a mouse, for he believed that it was his fault that the thread was spoiled; and for the future he dared say nothing about thread and spinning.
But I must confess that after all the Woman was indeed an idle, slovenly wife.