This wise man told him that the only one who could pluck the
fruit of contentment for him was the one to whom the tree belonged.
This was one of the daughters of the woman who had sold the apple to him
for the pot of gold.
When the King heard this he was very glad; he had his horse saddled, and
he and his court rode away, and so came at last to the cottage where
Christine lived. There they found the mother and the elder sisters, for
Christine was away on the hills with her geese.
The King took off his hat and made a fine bow.
The wise man at home had told him this and that; now to which one of her
daughters did the apple-tree belong? so said the King.
"Oh, it is my oldest daughter who owns the tree," said the woman.
So, good! Then if the oldest daughter would pluck the apple for him he
would take her home and marry her and make a queen of her. Only let her
get it for him without delay.
Prut! that would never do. What! was the girl to climb the apple-tree
before the King and all of the court? No! no! Let the King go home, and
she would bring the apple to him all in good time; that was what the
woman said.
Well, the King would do that, only let her make haste, for he wanted it
very much indeed.
As soon as the King had gone, the woman and her daughters sent for the
goose-girl to the hills. Then they told her that the King wanted the
apple yonder, and that she must pluck it for her sister to take to him;
if she did not do as they said they would throw her into the well.
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