The witch's plan was a very simple one, and had never yet failed. When she wanted a child she just flung her ball in the direction of the child's home, and however far off it might be, the ball was sure to reach it. Then the ball would begin rolling slowly back to the witch, so that the kid always thought that he could catch it the next minute.
Just as the good old man cut the skin of the peach, it seemed to burst open and there, inside, lay a tiny little baby boy, smiling up at them.
There came a very bad year, and the famine was so great that these poor people resolved to rid themselves of their children.
Now, while the old woman was washing the clothes, what should she see but a fine ripe peach that came floating down the stream? The peach was big enough, and rosy red on both sides.
The Cat said to his master with a grave and serious air: ‘Do not thus afflict yourself, and you shall see that you have not so poor a portion in me as you think.’
The Princess had no sooner taken the spindle than it ran into her hand, and she fell down in a swoon.