Hetrudgedmanyamile，andatlastcametoawood。Inthewoodwasahut，andinthehutsatanold，oldwoman，themotherofpeasantsoldiers，spinningflaxandweeping。Andasshespunshedidnotputherfingerstohermouthtowetthemwithspittle，buttohereyestowetthemwithtears。WhentheoldwomansawEmelyá；nshecriedoutathim:’Whyhaveyoucomehere？’ThenEmelyá；ngaveherthespindle，andsaidhiswifehadsentit。
Theoldwomansoftenedatonce，andbegantoquestionhim。AndEmelyá；ntoldherhiswholelife:howhemarriedthelass；howtheywenttoliveinthetown；howhehadworked，andwhathehaddoneatthepalace；howhebuiltthecathedral，andmadeariverwithshipsonit，andhowtheKinghadnowtoldhimtogoto’there，don’tknowwhere，andbringback’that，don’tknowwhat。’
TheGrandamlistenedtotheend，andceasedweeping。Shemutteredtoherself:’Thetimehassurelycome，’andsaidtohim:’Allright，mylad。Sitdownnow，andIwillgiveyousomethingtoeat。’
Emelyá；nate，andthentheGrandamtoldhimwhattodo。’Here，’
saidshe，’isaballofthread；rollitbeforeyou，andfollowwhereitgoes。Youmustgofartillyoucomerighttothesea。Whenyougetthereyouwillseeagreatcity。Enterthecityandaskforanight’slodgingatthefurthesthouse。Therelookoutforwhatyouareseeking。’