But this was not all, for she soon
found that the thread, after going straight down for a little way,
turned first sideways in one direction, then sideways in another,
and then shot, at various angles, hither and thither inside the
heap, so that she began to be afraid that to clear the thread she
must remove the whole huge gathering. She was dismayed at the very
idea, but, losing no time, set to work with a will; and with aching
back, and bleeding fingers and hands, she worked on, sustained by
the pleasure of seeing the heap slowly diminish and begin to show
itself on the opposite side of the fire. Another thing which
helped to keep up her courage was that, as often as she uncovered
a turn of the thread, instead of lying loose upon the stone, it
tightened up; this made her sure that her grandmother was at the
end of it somewhere.
She had got about half-way down when she started, and nearly fell
with fright. Close to her ears as it seemed, a voice broke out
singing:
'Jabber, bother, smash!
You'll have it all in a crash.
Jabber, smash, bother!
You'll have the worst of the pother.
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