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“Kill the mouse which is gnawing at its root, and it will again bear golden apples.” Then the watchman thanked him, and gave him as a reward two asses laden with gold, which followed him.

At last he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the watchman what the devil had said: “A toad is in the well beneath a stone; you must find it and kill it, and the well will again give wine in plenty.” The watchman thanked him, and also gave him two asses laden with gold.

At last the luck-child got home to his wife, who was heartily glad to see him again, and to hear how well he had prospered in everything. To the King he took what he had asked for, the devil’s three golden hairs, and when the King saw the four asses laden with gold he was quite content, and said, “Now all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter. But tell me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold come from? this is tremendous wealth!”

“I was rowed across a river,” answered he, “and got it there; it lies on the shore instead of sand.”

“Can I too fetch some of it?” said the King; and he was quite eager about it.

“As much as you like,” answered he. “There is a ferryman on the river; let him ferry you over, and you can fill your sacks on the other side.” The greedy King set out in all haste, and when he came to the river he beckoned to the ferryman to put him across. The ferryman came and bade him get in, and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his hand and sprang out. But from this time forth the King had to ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying still? If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from him.

The Louse and the Flea

A louse and a flea kept house together and were brewing beer in an eggshell. Then the little louse fell in and burnt herself. On this the little flea began to scream loudly. Then said the little room-door, “Little flea, why art thou screaming?”

“Because the louse has burnt herself.”

Then the little door began to creak. On this a little broom in the corner said, “Why art thou creaking, little door?”

“Have I not reason to creak?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping.”

So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart passed by and said, “Why art thou sweeping, little broom?”

“Have I not reason to sweep?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking.”

So the little cart said, “Then I will run,” and began to run wildly.

Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, “Why art thou running so, little cart?”

“Have I not reason to run?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking,
The little broom is sweeping.”

The ash-heap said, “Then I will burn furiously,” and began to burn in clear flames.

A little tree stood near the ash-heap and said, “Ash-heap, why art thou burning?”

“Have I not reason to burn?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking,
The little broom is sweeping,
The little cart is running.”

The little tree said, “Then I will shake myself,” and began to shake herself so that all her leaves fell off; a girl who came up with her water-pitcher saw that, and said, “Little tree, why art thou shaking thyself?”

“Have I not reason to shake myself?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking,
The little broom is sweeping,
The little cart is running,
The little ash-heap is burning.”

On this the girl said, “Then I will break my little water-pitcher,” and she broke her little water-pitcher.

Then said the little spring from which ran the water, “Girl, why art thou breaking thy water-jug?”

“Have I not reason to break my water-jug?

“The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking,
The little broom is sweeping,
The little cart is running,
The little ash-heap is burning,
The little tree is shaking itself.”

“Oh, ho!” said the spring, “then I will begin to flow,” and began to flow violently. And in the water everything was drowned, the girl, the little tree, the little ash-heap, the little cart, the broom, the little door, the little flea, the little louse, all together.

The Girl Without Hands

A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty, and had nothing left but his mill and a large apple-tree behind it. Once when he had gone into the forest to fetch wood, an old man stepped up to him whom he had never seen before, and said, “Why dost thou plague thyself with cutting wood, I will make thee rich, if thou wilt promise me what is standing behind thy mill?”

“What can that be but my apple-tree?” thought the miller, and said, “Yes,” and gave a written promise to the stranger.

He, however, laughed mockingly and said, “When three years have passed, I will come and carry away what belongs to me,” and then he went.

When the miller got home, his wife came to meet him and said, “Tell me, miller, from whence comes this sudden wealth into our house? All at once every box and chest was filled; no one brought it in, and I know not how it happened.”

He answered, “It comes from a stranger who met me in the forest, and promised me great treasure. I, in return, have promised him what stands behind the mill; we can very well give him the big apple-tree for it.”

“Ah, husband,” said the terrified wife, “that must have been the devil! He did not mean the apple-tree, but our daughter, who was standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.”

The miller’s daughter was a beautiful, pious girl, and lived through the three

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