Practice Typing

She sat down in one corner of the room, and began to bewail her hard fate; when on a sudden the door opened, and a droll looking little man hobbled in, and said, Good morrow to you, my good lass; what are you weeping for. Alas. said she, I must spin this straw into gold, and I know not how. What will you give me, said the hobgoblin, to do it for you. My necklace, replied the maiden.