So the old hag's husband, who was every bit as bad as she, took the
spoon to have a taste.
"Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,"
said he.
"Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,"
said Buttercup down the chimney pipe.
Then they all began to wonder who it could be that chattered so, and
ran out to see. But when they came out at the door, Buttercup threw
down on them the fir-tree root and the stone, and broke all their
heads to bits. After that he took all the gold and silver that lay in
the house, and went home to his mother, and became a rich man.
* * * * *
GERMAN STORIES
* * * * *
SEVEN AT ONE BLOW
BY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM
A tailor sat in his workroom one morning, stitching away busily at a
coat for the Lord Mayor. He whistled and sang so gaily that all the
little boys who passed the shop on their way to school thought what a
fine thing it was to be a tailor, and told one another that when they
grew to be men they'd be tailors, too.
"How hungry I feel, to be sure!" cried the little man, at last; "but
I'm far too busy to trouble about eating. I must finish his lordship's
coat before I touch a morsel of food," and he broke once more into a
merry song.
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