_In the hands of the industrious the simplest things can be made
the means of good fortune._
Once upon a time there was a little girl whose father had died and
left her with an old grandmother who lived in a cottage on the
edge of the town. They were very poor and earned their living by
spinning, and weaving and sewing. By and by the grandmother died,
too, and then the girl, who was sixteen years of age, had nothing
but the spindle, the shuttle and the needle. But with these she
made beautiful things to sell. Everybody saw how lovely she was and
praised beautiful things she made.
Now, the prince of the country had said he wanted to marry a poor
girl, but she had to be beautiful and industrious. One day he came
to the village where the girl lived, and asked if there were any
poor girls there fit to be his bride. At once all the poor girls
dressed up in their best clothes, and brought out all the things
they had made and sat on the front steps. But the prince passed
them all by for they were ugly and dowdy.
At last he came to the cottage where the poor girl lived. She was
busy at her work inside and did not look up when the prince passed
by. As he went on the spindle leaped out of her hand and danced
down the road after the prince, spinning a beautiful golden thread.
The prince was astonished and said:
“What is this? A golden thread! It must lead somewhere,” and he
turned back to follow the spindle that kept on spinning golden
threads.
After a while the shuttle jumped out of the hand of the girl and
danced out of the house and began weaving a beautiful carpet. On
it were flowers and fruits, and animals, and birds and trees. It
was a wonderful carpet and grew so fast that you could see it as it
spread along the path and down the road.
By and by the prince came to the carpet.
“What is this? A wonderful carpet! It must lead somewhere,” and he
got off his horse and began to walk on the carpet that grew bigger
and more beautiful every minute.
And now the needle leaped out of the hands of the poor girl and
began to sew all by itself. It began to make the most beautiful
dresses in the world, with gold thread and lace and fine velvet.
They fitted the young girl exactly, and when the prince came into
the cottage she sat in a chair covered with embroidery, wearing a
dress fit for a bride of a king.
The prince took her by the hand and said:
“You are the poor girl of my dreams. You shall be my princess,
for you are more beautiful than the things you wear.” And at the
wedding, the spindle, the shuttle, and the needle danced until they
were quite tired out.