THE YOUNG SPINNER

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 20, 25 January 1939, Page 20

THE YOUNG SPINNER

Long ago, far »way in the Shetland Mand*, there once lived a little hime girl called Orete. Her home was built on the shore of a voe, or sea lake, that ran "quite a distance inland. It was built ef rough stones, and had only one window. The r*of wee covered with green sods, with big white daisies ami other flowers growing on it; wreathed, too, with ropes of seaweed, wound round stones, to prevent the soda from being blown off in high winde. There was no garden, but the ground was covered with fine white sand, full of little pink and white and yellow shells, for the green waves curled •t its edge only a little way off. There was a Are of peat in the middle of its only room, and as there was no chimney the smoke had to find ite way » out, so the walls looked black and dismal. Then a calf or some lambs, or even some little pigs often shared the fireside in cold weather, and there was scarcely any furniture, for Orete and her mother were very poor. But they had a spinning-wheel, and spun the sheep's wool into-yarn, and knitted thick stockings and clothes for the fishermen. On • sunny summer day the little ieland looked like fairyland, with othc/ fairy islands shining in the distance; but Orete, who would sit at the window with her spinning-wheel and look out upon the ieland, knew it in winter storms as well, and was afraid then of the great sea whh*h had caused her father's death and her own lameness, for poor little Orete could not run about and join in the games. Often for days •he had to lie, on her back, bearing a cruel pain that sometimes brought tears to her eyes. . • One day when the sea roared and the •pray struck against the small window, dimming it so that it Was impossible to see out of it, Orete, whose leg ached 'badly, wm lying em the bed " by the window. ■

For once the girl's busy fingers were idle as she watched a big spider beginning to spin his web in the corner of the window. When she first noticed him he was running a line from one corner to the other, then he went back to the middle and made a line fast to another corner, and, after making a sort of wheel with a lot of spokes all joining in the middle, he started off and began to work rounds. How clever he was! And he went round so fast that he made her feel quite giddy. The spider somehow seemed to grow bigger and bigger, and his web covered more and more of the window and was getting as white as snow. Slowly he seemed to change, till he was no longer a spider, but a trow, a queer little man with a face like a rosy, dried-up apple. And the trow nodded his head at her, and said in a tiny voice: "Watch me, Grete, and you will know how to knit." Yes, when ehe looked harder, it was. wool he was spinning, white and soft and fine; and the web—no, the knitting, of course —grew apace under his fingers. It was easy to sec how such beautiful patterns could be made. Orete was learning how to do it fast, and the little trow turned every now and then, and smiled. ■•/ The door opened. So did Grete's eyee. And now there was only a real spider, with an everyday sort of web, and—it was very odd—he was no longer at work, but was all tucked up'into a ball against the ledge because he was too disgusted at the glittering little beads of spray that had.jpr.ced and were hanging on his web,' to. go on making it. U W\, mother," she cried, "you have frightened.awcy the-.troiT just as I was getting on grandly with' learning -the fine knitting." ''

"What has the wee wifie been dreaming about?" said her mother. "Oh, lam tired! It has been a weary day's work." And she sat down, not noticing in her bewilderment that Grete did not answer. The little girl could not explain just then, and felt she wanted to think it all over before she forgot the wonderful pattern ehe had learned so strangely. She dreamed about it all night, and could scarcely eat any breakfast neat morning, she was so excited; and her mother helped her to pick out all the whitest wool from the bundles, so that she might start carding and spinning it without, delay. It would not epin fine enough to please her the first day; no, nor the second day, but she persevered until she was satisfied and as her wheel went whirring round she fancied she heard the trow'a voice saying, "Try again, Grete. Try again." She thought he was helping her all the time, for surely never had wool 'been spun of such fineness and eveness before. Then, too, the spider's web wae there; and ehe had only to look at the window and the pattern seemed to stand out clearly again. Before long the neighbours all came crowding in to see the wonderful shawl that looked like lace. The fame of it even. reached the ears of a great lady in Lerwick, .who sent a messenger in a boat to say she wished to see it. • Orete was sorry to part with her treasure, but her mother said it was a great honour for them, so it was borne away to Lerwick. \

Tien, one fine day, Orete saw a white sail making for the voe. Soon a lady -was sitting-beside her, and asking her about her-work «o kindly that she quite feirgot to be frightened. And when the lady left she gave Orete a gold piece for the shawl, the first gold piece that had ever 'been seen on. the island. Everybody wanted to learn how to get gold