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By Root 2113 0

thoughts to go to sleep. She thrust her elbow into her husband’s side, and said: “Listen, Lenz, to what I have been thinking: if I were to find one florin and one was given to me, I would borrow another to put to them, and you too should give me another, and then as soon as I had got the four florins together, I would buy a young cow.” This pleased the husband right well. “It is true,” said he, “that I do not know where I am to get the florin which you want as a gift from me; but, if you can get the money together, and can buy a cow with it, you will do well to carry out your project. I shall be glad,” he added, “if the cow has a calf, and then I shall often get a drink of milk to refresh me.” “The milk is not for you,” said the woman, “we must let the calf suck that it may become big and fat, and we may be able to sell it well.” “Certainly,” replied the man, “but still we will take a little milk; that will do no harm.” “Who has taught you to manage cows?” said the woman; “whether it does harm or not, I will not allow it, and even if you were to stand on your head for it, you should not have a drop of the milk! Do you think, because there is no satisfying you, Long Laurence, that you are to eat up what I earn with so much difficulty?” “Wife,” said the man, “be quiet, or I will give you a blow on your mouth!” “What!” cried she, “you threaten me, you glutton, you rascal, you lazy Harry!” She was just laying hold of his hair, but Long Laurence got up, seized both Lean Lisa’s withered arms in one hand, and with the other he pressed down her head into the pillow, let her scold, and held her until she fell asleep for very weariness. Whether she continued to wrangle when she awoke next morning, or whether she went out to look for the florin which she wanted to find, that I know not.

The Hut in the Forest

A POOR WOOD-CUTTER lived with his wife and three daughters in a little hut on the edge of a lonely forest. One morning as he was about to go to his work, he said to his wife: “Let our eldest daughter bring me my dinner into the forest, or I shall never get my work done, and in order that she may not miss her way,” he added, “I will take a bag of millet with me and strew the seeds on the path.” When, therefore, the sun was just above the centre of the forest, the girl set out on her way with a bowl of soup, but the field-sparrows, and wood-sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up the millet long before, and the girl could not find the track. Trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and night began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and she began to be afraid. Then in the distance she perceived a light which glimmered between the trees. “There ought to be some people living there, who can take me in for the night,” thought she, and went up to the light. It was not long before she came to a house the windows of which were all lighted up. She knocked, and a rough voice from inside cried: “Come in.” The girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of the room. “Just come in,” cried the voice, and when she opened the door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting his face with both hands, and his white beard fell down over the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. The girl told her story to the old man, and begged for shelter for the night. The man said:

“My pretty hen,

My pretty cock,

My pretty brindled cow,

What are you saying now?”

“Duks,” answered the animals, and that must have meant: “We are willing,” for the old man said: “Here you shall have shelter and food, go to the fire, and cook us our supper.” The girl found in the kitchen abundance of everything, and cooked a good supper, but had no thought of the animals. She carried the full bowl to the table, seated herself by the gray-haired man, ate and satisfied her hunger. When she had had enough, she said: “But now I am tired, where is there a bed in which I can lie down, and sleep?” The animals