Helen lost herself and wandered
hither and thither. After a while she saw a light
above her, and, following in its direction, reached
the mountain-top.
There was the flaming fire, the twelve blocks
of stone, and the Twelve Months. At first she
was frightened and hesitated; then she came
nearer and warmed her hands. She did not ask
permission, nor did she speak one polite word.
``What hath brought thee here? What dost
thou seek?'' said the great January severely.
``I am not obliged to tell you, old graybeard.
What business is it of yours?'' she replied
disdainfully, turning her back on the fire and going
toward the forest.
The great January frowned, and waved his
wand over his head. Instantly the sky became
covered with clouds, the fire went down, snow
fell in large flakes, an icy wind howled round the
mountain. Amid the fury of the storm Helen
stumbled about. The pelisse failed to warm her
benumbed limbs.
The mother kept on waiting for her. She looked
from the window, she watched from the doorstep,
but her daughter came not. The hours passed
slowly, but Helen did not return.
``Can it be that the apples have charmed her
from her home?'' thought the mother. Then she
clad herself in hood and pelisse, and went in
search of her daughter. Snow fell in huge masses.
It covered all things.
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