Well, so they was married. An’ for ’leven months the gal had all the vittles she liked to ate, and all the gowns she liked to get, and all the company she liked to have.

But when the time was gettin’ oover, she began to think about them there skeins an’ to wonder if he had ’em in mind. But not one word did he say about ’em, an’ she wholly thought he’d forgot ’em.

But the last day o’ the last month he takes her to a room she’d never sets eyes on afore. There worn’t nothing in it but a spinnin’-wheel and a stool. An’ says he: “Now, my dear, here yow’ll be shut in to-morrow with some vittles and some flax, and if you hain’t spun five skeins by the night, your head will goo off.”

An’ awa’ he went about his business.

Well, she were that frightened, she’d allus been such a useless mawther, that she didn’t so much as know how to spin, an’ what were she to do to-morrow, with no one to come nigh her to help her. She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, and lawk! how she did cry!

However, all on a sudden she heard a sort of a knockin’ low down on the door. She upped and oped it, an’ what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right curious, an’ that said:

“What are you a-cryin’ for?”

“Wha’s that to you?” says she.

“Never you mind,” that said, “but tell me what you’re a-cryin’ for.”

“That won’t do me no good if I do,” says she.

“You don’t know that,” that said, an’ twirled that’s tail round.

“Well,” says she, “that won’t do no harm, if that don’t do no good,” and she upped and told about the pies and the skeins, and everything.

“This is what I’ll do,” says the little black thing, “I’ll come to your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at night.”

“What’s your pay?” says she.

That looked out o’ the corner o’ that’s eyes, and that said: “I’ll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, an’ if you hain’t guessed it afore the month’s up, you shall be mine.”

Well, she thought she’d be sure to guess that’s name afore the month was up. “All right,” says she, “I agree.”

“All right,” that says, an’ lawk! how that twirled that’s tail.

Well, the next day, the king he took her into the room, an’ there was the flax an’ the day’s vittles.

“Now there’s the flax,” says he, “an’ if that ain’t spun up this night, off goes your head.” An’ then he went out an’ locked the door.

He’d hardly gone when there was a knockin’ on the window.

She upped and she oped it, and there sure enough was the little old thing a-settin’ on the ledge.

“Where’s the flax?” says he.