Marushka roughly by the shoulder, she pushed her out of the house and slammed the door.
The poor child climbed slowly up the mountain side weeping bitterly. All around the snow lay deep with no track of man or beast in any direction. Marushka wandered on and on, weak with hunger and shaking with cold.
“Dear God in heaven,” she prayed, “take me to yourself away from all this suffering.”
Suddenly ahead of her she saw a glowing light. She struggled towards it and found at last that it came from a great fire that was burning on the 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.
