ousewife!"

When he broached the wine, he was no less pleased, for it was of the
best.

"This, at any rate, must have cost you a great deal, neighbour," said
he, drinking the farmer's health as Molly left the room.

"I don't know that rotten apples could be better used," said the
farmer; "but I leave all that to Molly. Do you brew at home?"

"We give _our_ rotten apples to the pigs," growled the Ogre. "But
things will be better ordered when she is my wife."

The Ogre was now in great haste to conclude the match, and asked what
dowry the farmer would give his daughter.

"I should never dream of giving a dowry with Molly," said the farmer,
boldly. "Whoever gets her, gets dowry enough. On the contrary, I shall
expect a good round sum from the man who deprives me of her. Our
wealthiest farmer is just widowed, and therefore sure to be in a
hurry for marriage. He has an eye to the main chance, and would not
grudge to pay well for such a wife, I'll warrant."

"I'm no churl myself," said the Ogre, who was anxious to secure his
thrifty bride at any price; and he named a large sum of money,
thinking, "We shall live on rats henceforward, and the beef and mutton
will soon cover the dowry."

"Double that, and we'll see," said the farmer, stoutly.

But the Ogre became angry, and cried; "What are you thinking of, man?
Who is to hinder my carrying your lass off, without 'with your leave'
or 'by your leave,' dowry or none?"

"How little you know her!" said the farmer. "She is so firm that she
would be cut to pieces sooner than give you any benefit of her thrift,
unless you dealt fairly in the matter."

"Well, well," said the Ogre, "let us meet each other." And he named a
sum larger than he at first proposed, and less than the farmer had
asked. This the farmer agreed to, as it was enough to make him
prosperous for life.

"Bring it in a sack to-morrow morning," said he to the Ogre, "and then
you can speak to Molly; she's gone to bed now."

The next morning, accordingly, the Ogre appeared, carrying the dowry
in a sack, and Molly came to meet him.

"There are two things," said she, "I would ask of any lover of mine: a
new farmhouse, built as I should direct, with a view to economy; and a
feather-bed of fresh goose feathers, filled when the old woman plucks
her geese. If I don't sleep well, I cannot work well."

"That is better than asking for finery," thought the Ogre; "and after
all the house will be my own." So, to save