Prevod

In a village there lived a man and his wife, and the wife was so lazy that she never wanted to do any work. Whatever her husband gave her to spin, she never finished, and what she did spin she never reeled, but left it all wound up in a ball. Whenever her husband scolded her, she was always ready with an answer. “Why, how am I to reel the yarn when I have no reel? Go into the forest first and get me one.” “If that is all,” said her husband, “I will go into the forest and fetch some wood for a reel.” Then the wife grew afraid that, once he had the wood, he would make a reel out of it, and she would have to reel off her yarn and then begin spinning again. She thought for a little while, and a good idea came to her, so she secretly followed her husband into the forest. When he had climbed a tree to choose and cut the wood, she crept into the bushes beneath it, where he could not see her, and called up, “Who cuts wood for a reel shall die; who reels the yarn meets ruin thereby.”

The man listened, laid down his axe for a while, and wondered what this could mean. “Oh, nonsense,” he said at last. “What could it have been? Your ears were ringing. Don’t frighten yourself for nothing.” So he took up his axe again and was about to strike, when the voice called up once more from below, “Who cuts wood for a reel shall die; who reels the yarn meets ruin thereby.”

He stopped, grew frightened and uneasy, and pondered the matter. But after a little while his courage returned, and for the third time he reached for his axe and was about to strike. But for the third time the voice cried out loudly, “Who cuts wood for a reel shall die;

who reels the yarn meets ruin thereby.” Then he had had enough, and all desire to cut the wood had left him. He climbed hastily down the tree and set off home. His wife ran as fast as she could along the side paths, so that she would get home before him. When he came into the room, she acted quite innocently, as though nothing had happened, and said, “Well, have you brought some good wood for a reel?” “No,” he said, “I can see that this reeling business will never do.” He told her what had happened to him in the forest, and from then on left her in peace about it.

Before long, however, the man began to fret once more about the disorder in the house. “Wife,” he said, “it really is a disgrace that the spun yarn should be left lying there in a ball.” “Do you know what?” she said. “Since we cannot get a reel, you stand up in the loft and I will stand below. I will throw the ball up to you, and you can throw it down again, and at least we shall have a skein.” “Yes, that will work,” said her husband. So that was what they did, and when they had finished, he said, “Now that the yarn is in a skein, it must be boiled.” The wife grew afraid again, and although she said, “Yes, we will boil it first thing tomorrow morning,” she was already thinking up another trick. Early next morning she got up, lit the fire, and put the kettle on, but instead of the yarn she put in a lump of tow and let it boil away. Then she went to her husband, who was still in bed, and said, “I must go out for a while. Get up in the meantime and look after the yarn in the kettle over the fire. But you must do it in good time, mind you, for if the cock crows and you have not looked in on it, the yarn will turn to tow.” The man was eager to do his part and did not want to neglect anything, so he got up as quickly as he could and went into the kitchen. But when he reached the kettle and looked inside, he saw to his horror nothing but a lump of tow. The poor man kept as quiet as a mouse, thinking he had been careless and it was all his fault, and from that day on he never said another word about yarn or spinning. But you must admit, she was a nasty woman.