there was once a widow who had two daughters. the elder was so like her mother in temper and face, that to have seen the one was to have seen the other. they were both so disagreeable and proud, that it was impossible to live with them. the younger, who was the exact portrait of her father in her kindly and polite ways, was also as beautiful a girl as one could see. as we are naturally fond of those who resemble us, the mother doted on her elder daughter, while for the younger she had a most violent aversion, and made her take her meals in the kitchen and work hard all day. among other things that she was obliged to do, this poor child was forced to go twice a day to fetch water from a place a mile or more from the house, and carry back a large jug filled to the brim. as she was standing one day by this spring, a poor woman came up to her, and asked the girl to give her some water to drink.

"certainly, my good woman," she replied, and the beautiful girl at once stooped and rinsed out the jug, and then, filling it with water from the clearest part of the spring, she held it up to the woman, continuing to support the jug, that she might drink with greater comfort. having drunk, the woman said to her, "you are so beautiful, so good and kind, that i cannot refrain from conferring a gift upon you," for she was really a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor village woman, in order to see how far the girl's kind-heartedness would go. "this gift i make you," continued the fairy, "that with every word you speak, either a flower or a precious stone will fall from your mouth."

the girl had no sooner reached home than her mother began scolding her for being back so late. "i am sorry, mother," said she, "to have been out so long," and as she spoke, there fell from her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two large diamonds. the mother gazed at her in astonishment. "what do i see!" she exclaimed, "pearls and diamonds seem to be dropping from her mouth! how is this, my daughter?"—it was the first time she had called her daughter. the poor child related in all simplicity what had happened, letting fall quantities of diamonds in the course of her narrative. "i must certainly send my other daughter there," said the mother. "look, fanchon, see what falls from your sister's mouth when she speaks! would you not be glad to receive a similar gift? all you have to do, is to go and fetch water from the spring, and if an old woman asks you for some to drink, to give it her nicely and politely." "i should like to see myself going to the spring," answered the rude, cross girl.

"i insist on your going," rejoined the mother, "and that at once."

there was once a widow who had two daughters. the elder was so like her mother in temper and face, that to have seen the one was to have seen the other. they were both so disagreeable and proud, that it was impossible to live with them. the younger, who was the exact portrait of her father in her kindly and polite ways, was also as beautiful a girl as one could see. as we are naturally fond of those who resemble us, the mother doted on her elder daughter, while for the younger she had a most violent aversion, and made her take her meals in the kitchen and work hard all day. among other things that she was obliged to do, this poor child was forced to go twice a day to fetch water from a place a mile or more from the house, and carry back a large jug filled to the brim. as she was standing one day by this spring, a poor woman came up to her, and asked the girl to give her some water to drink.

"certainly, my good woman," she replied, and the beautiful girl at once stooped and rinsed out the jug, and then, filling it with water from the clearest part of the spring, she held it up to the woman, continuing to support the jug, that she might drink with greater comfort. having drunk, the woman said to her, "you are so beautiful, so good and kind, that i cannot refrain from conferring a gift upon you," for she was really a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor village woman, in order to see how far the girl's kind-heartedness would go. "this gift i make you," continued the fairy, "that with every word you speak, either a flower or a precious stone will fall from your mouth."

the girl had no sooner reached home than her mother began scolding her for being back so late. "i am sorry, mother," said she, "to have been out so long," and as she spoke, there fell from her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two large diamonds. the mother gazed at her in astonishment. "what do i see!" she exclaimed, "pearls and diamonds seem to be dropping from her mouth! how is this, my daughter?"—it was the first time she had called her daughter. the poor child related in all simplicity what had happened, letting fall quantities of diamonds in the course of her narrative. "i must certainly send my other daughter there," said the mother. "look, fanchon, see what falls from your sister's mouth when she speaks! would you not be glad to receive a similar gift? all you have to do, is to go and fetch water from the spring, and if an old woman asks you for some to drink, to give it her nicely and politely." "i should like to see myself going to the spring," answered the rude, cross girl.

"i insist on your going," rejoined the mother, "and that at once."