'Have you no manners in your country?' asked the crone.

'I can't stop and talk; I am in a hurry,' answered the girl. 'It is
getting late, and I have to find a place.'

'Stop and comb my hair for a little,' said the old woman, 'and I will
help you to get a place.'

'Comb your hair, indeed! I have something better to do than that!' And
slamming the gate in the crone's face she went her way. And she never
heard the words that followed her: 'You shall not have done this to me
for nothing!'

By-and-by the girl arrived at the farm, and she was engaged to look
after the cows and sift the corn as her stepsister had been. But it
was only when someone was watching her that she did her work; at other
times the cow-house was dirty, and the cows ill-fed and beaten, so that
they kicked over the pail, and tried to butt her; and everyone said
they had never seen such thin cows or such poor milk. As for the cats,
she chased them away, and ill-treated them, so that they had not even
the spirit to chase the rats and mice, which nowadays ran about
everywhere. And when the sparrows came to beg for some corn, they
fared no better than the cows and the cats, for the girl threw her
shoes at them, till they flew in a fright to the woods, and took
shelter amongst the trees.

Months passed in this manner, when, one day, the mistress called the
girl to her.