Under the light of a full moon, I could see the old woman coming down to the well. The light from the orb of the moon over the mountain was so bright that you could have found a needle in the grass.

I watched from the tree as the old woman knelt before the well. She peeled off the old skin that covered her face and freed her golden hair from the grey wig. It broke forth like sunbeams! Her eyes shone as bright as the stars, and her cheeks bloomed soft and pink as apple blossoms.

Poor, darling girl, she was so sad! She wept bitterly, and her tears rolled into the grass. They shone like pearls. Pearls! I strained to get a better look, and the bough cracked.

She leapt up like a doe who had just heard gunshot. Then she was gone.

Count in Hiding in The Goose Girl at the Well, Grimms. Illustration by Rie Cramer.