top of the mountain. Around the fire there were twelve
stones, one of them much bigger and higher than the rest. Twelve men
were seated on the stones. Three of them were very old and white;
three were not so old; three were middle-aged; and three were
beautiful youths. They did not talk. They sat silent gazing at the
fire. They were the Twelve Months.

For a moment Marushka was frightened and hesitated. Then she stepped
forward and said, politely:

"Kind sirs, may I warm myself at your fire? I am shaking with cold."

Great January nodded his head and Marushka reached her stiff fingers
towards the flames.

"This is no place for you, my child," Great January said. "Why are you
here?"

"I'm hunting for violets," Marushka answered.

"Violets? This is no time to look for violets with snow on the ground!"

"I know that, sir, but my sister, Holena, says I must bring her violets
from the forest or she'll kill me and my mother says so, too. Please,
sir, won't you tell me where I can find some?"

Great January slowly stood up and walked over to the youngest Month. He
handed him a long staff and said:

"Here, March, you take the high seat."

So March took the high seat and began waving the staff over the fire.
The fire blazed up and instantly the snow all about began to melt. The
trees burst into bud; the grass revived; the little pink buds of the
daisies appeared; and, lo, it was spring!

While Marushka looked, violets began to peep out from among the leaves
and soon it was as if a great blue quilt had been spread on the ground.

"Now, Marushka," March cried, "there are your violets! Pick them
quickly!"

Marushka was overjoyed. She stooped down and gathered a great bunch.
Then she thanked the Months politely, bade them good-day, and hurried
away.

Just imagine Holena and the stepmother's surprise when they saw Marushka
coming home through the snow with her hands full of violets. They opened
the door and instantly the fragrance of the flowers filled the cottage.

"Where did you get them?" Holena demanded rudely.

"High up in the mountain," Marushka said. "The ground up there is
covered with them."

Holena snatched the violets and fastened them in her waist. She kept
smelling them herself all afternoon and she let her mother smell them,
but she never once said to Marushka:

"Dear sister, won't you take a smell?"

The next day as she was sitting idle in the chimney corner she took the
notion that she must ha