ttle
girl, took her in his arms, kissed her, and set off with her to his
wife. When he reached the house he took a kneading-trough, put the
little thing in it, set it on the roof, and then crawled into the
cottage, saying:

"Come quick, wife, come quick, and see what a treasure of a daughter,
with golden hair and eyes like stars, our Lord has given me."

When they hurried out, to see the treasure of a girl and take the
trough down from the roof, they saw nothing, no trace of the child
anywhere. The old man crossed himself and sighed deeply. He searched
hither and thither, right and left, but the little girl was nowhere to
be found. He hunted through the straw in the hut and on the ground
behind it to see if she had fallen down; but if she wasn't there she
wasn't, and that ended the matter, for they couldn't stamp her out of
the earth.

Oh, heavens, how the old man grieved and wrung his hands in despair.
How could he help being startled by such a thing! He had put the child
in the trough and seen her after he had laid her in it, and knew
exactly where he had left her, and now to be unable to find her just a
moment after was quite too bad.

"What could have happened to the little girl? Has the angel of the
Lord taken her? Have the elves and wicked gnomes stolen her away?
What in the world could have occurred!" said the man, sighing.
Somebody had taken her, that was plain. But neither angels nor elves
nor wicked gnomes frequented the neighborhood. Now, my good friends,
just listen to the amazing event. A vulture or a griffin, whichever it
was, but we'll say a griffin, was passing by, and, hearing the child's
cries, swooped swiftly down, seized the little one, tucked her under
its right wing, soared up into the sky with her, and took her to its
eyry to feed its young. After putting her in its nest, the griffin
flew off again. But the young birds, instead of eating the little
girl, looked kindly at her, gave her some soft bread-crumbs, made a
bed for her, and covered her with their wings to protect her from the
chill of the morning air.

I must now tell you that in this terrible forest, at the bottom of a
well of pure poison, lived a dragon with twelve heads, and this well
was not far from the tree in whose top rested the griffin's nest. This
horrible dragon never let the little griffins grow up, but as soon as
they were ready to fly stretched out two of its fiery heads and put an
end to their lives, so that the poor