It happened that on the very day when she was fifteen years
old, the king and queen were not at home, and the maiden
was left in the palace quite alone. So she went round into
all sorts of places, looked into rooms and bed-chambers just
as she liked, and at last came to an old tower. She climbed
up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a little door.
A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the door
sprang open, and there in a little room sat an old woman with
a spindle, busily spinning her flax.
Good day, old mother, said the king's daughter, what are you
doing there. I am spinning, said the old woman, and nodded
her head. What sort of thing is that, that rattles round
so merrily, said the girl, and she took the spindle and wanted
to spin too. But scarcely had she touched the spindle when the
magic decree was fulfilled, and she pricked her finger with it.