I was actually thinking about this recently. Now, why? ...oh, yes, because something had reminded me of a similar fairy story I know, which had a different ending.
In this other story, there is again a woman who dotes on her ugly, lazy daughter and make her pretty, industrious daughter do all the work. This family lives near a forest, where the industrious daughter goes from time to time to gather various needful things.
On one occasion, her relatives send her out in search of some kind of fruit that's either not quite in season or just gone out (I don't have a story-teller's memory for details, I'm afraid). After searching and searching, she happens upon a clearing, in the centre of which, seated in a circle, are twelve men, with a distinct family resemblance and ranging in age from quite young to very old. Polite conversation ensues, which results in the men taking a liking to the girl and explaining that they are the twelve months of the year; and the appropriate month arranges for some of the fruit the girl is looking for to be growing nearby.
This happens in spring; and the same sequence of events re-occurs, with different fruit, in summer, autumn, and winter. Each time the girl encounters the twelve men, they are the same range from quite young to very old, but each individual man has moved three rungs up the age ladder (except the three oldest, who somehow become the three youngest).
Now, the girl's stepmother has been growing curious about the girl's fruit-finding abilities, but the girl's been keeping quiet about the source of her luck. When she's sent out into the snow to fetch strawberries (I do remember the strawberries, for some reason) and comes back not only alive, but bearing strawberries, it's the last straw. The stepmother lays into the girl, and forces her to tell all - and then, of course, nothing will do but that her own daughter go out and see this marvel for herself.
But this daughter is perhaps more idle than the one in the well-and-spindle story, or perhaps her mother just trusts her less - in any case, the mother goes too. Off they go, mother and daughter together, into the snow, with clouds piling up on the horizon, to find the twelve men and demand to see the trick with the strawberries.
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In this other story, there is again a woman who dotes on her ugly, lazy daughter and make her pretty, industrious daughter do all the work. This family lives near a forest, where the industrious daughter goes from time to time to gather various needful things.
On one occasion, her relatives send her out in search of some kind of fruit that's either not quite in season or just gone out (I don't have a story-teller's memory for details, I'm afraid). After searching and searching, she happens upon a clearing, in the centre of which, seated in a circle, are twelve men, with a distinct family resemblance and ranging in age from quite young to very old. Polite conversation ensues, which results in the men taking a liking to the girl and explaining that they are the twelve months of the year; and the appropriate month arranges for some of the fruit the girl is looking for to be growing nearby.
This happens in spring; and the same sequence of events re-occurs, with different fruit, in summer, autumn, and winter. Each time the girl encounters the twelve men, they are the same range from quite young to very old, but each individual man has moved three rungs up the age ladder (except the three oldest, who somehow become the three youngest).
Now, the girl's stepmother has been growing curious about the girl's fruit-finding abilities, but the girl's been keeping quiet about the source of her luck. When she's sent out into the snow to fetch strawberries (I do remember the strawberries, for some reason) and comes back not only alive, but bearing strawberries, it's the last straw. The stepmother lays into the girl, and forces her to tell all - and then, of course, nothing will do but that her own daughter go out and see this marvel for herself.
But this daughter is perhaps more idle than the one in the well-and-spindle story, or perhaps her mother just trusts her less - in any case, the mother goes too. Off they go, mother and daughter together, into the snow, with clouds piling up on the horizon, to find the twelve men and demand to see the trick with the strawberries.
And they never come back.