There they all sat silently looking at the fire.
They were the Twelve Months of the Year. The
great January was placed higher than the others.
His hair and mustache were white as snow, and in
his hand he held a wand. At first Marouckla was
afraid, but after a while her courage returned, and
drawing near, she said:--
``Men of God, may I warm myself at your
fire? I am chilled by the winter cold.''
The great January raised his head and answered:
``What brings thee here, my daughter?
What dost thou seek?''
``I am looking for violets,'' replied the maiden.
``This is not the season for violets. Dost thou
not see the snow everywhere?'' said January.
``I know well, but my sister Helen and my
stepmother have ordered me to bring them violets
from your mountain. If I return without them
they will kill me. I pray you, good shepherds, tell
me where they may be found.''
Here the great January arose and went over to
the youngest of the Months, and, placing his wand
in his hand, said:--
``Brother March, do thou take the highest place.''
March obeyed, at the same time waving his wand
over the fire. Immediately the flames rose toward
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.
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