set her down on a stool by the fire till the water should boil,
and locked the others up in the cellar.

"Tears won't put the fire out," thought the little maid. So instead of
crying she pulled out the old stocking, and went on with her darning.
When the Ogress came back from the cellar she went up to her and
looked at her work.

"How you darn!" she cried. "Now that's a sort of thing I hate. And the
Ogre does wear such big holes in his stockings, and his feet are so
large, that, though my hand is not a small one, I cannot fill out the
heel with my fist, and then who's to darn it neatly I should like to
know?"

"If I had a basin big enough to fill out the heel, I think I could do
it," said the little maid.

The Ogress scratched her big ear thoughtfully for a minute, and then
she said:

"To lose a chance is to cheat oneself. Why shouldn't this one darn
while the others boil? Yes, I think you shall try. Six days ought to
serve for mending all the stockings, though the Ogre hasn't a whole
pair left, and angry enough he'll be. And when household matters are
not to his mind he puts that big sack over my head, and ties it round
my neck. And if you had ever done housework with your head in a poke,
you'd know what it is! So you shall darn the stockings, and if you do
them well, I'll cook one of the others first instead of you."

Saying which, the Ogress fetched one of the Ogre's stockings, and the
widow's child put a big basin into the heel to stretch it, and began
to darn. The Ogress watched her till she had put all the threads one
way, and when she began to run the cross threads, interlacing them
with the utmost exactness, the old creature was delighted, and went to
fetch another child to be cooked instead of the widow's.

When the other little girl came up, she cried and screamed so that the
room rang with her lamentations, and the widow's child laid down her
needle and ceased working.

"Why don't you go on darning?" asked the Ogress.

"Alas! dear mother," said she, "the little sister's cries make my
heart beat so that I cannot darn evenly."

"Then she must go back to the cellar for a bit," said the Ogress.
"And meanwhile I'll sharpen the knife."

So after she had taken back the crying child, and had watched the
little girl, who now darned away as skilfully as ever, the Ogress took
down a huge knife from the wall, and began to sharpen it on a
grindstone in a corner of the kitchen. As she sharpened the knife, she